The Mondays, Interpreted

This is exactly how I feel today, and every Monday when my alarm goes off.

Have I told you lately that I love Paul Rudd?

Speaking of Nature

Hey HB, someone figured out what all those animals are saying:
ANIMALS TALKING IN ALL CAPS!

Are these real children?

Please tell me they're real.

Source

I can't wait to dress up my offspring like rappers.  Future little Biscuit will look amazing as mini Kreayshawn.

We like big butts and we cannot lie

It's Monday and I've got nothing creative in me this morning. I'm chugging my americano in the hopes that my brain will start working soon, but things aren't looking good. 


While I recover from this weekend, enjoy this testimonial piece about booty spanx. Though HB and I clearly don't need any help in the big butt category, the fact that this product exists makes me feel oh so positive about the gifts my mama gave me. 


My favorite part? "I love Russ Meyer and actresses like Christina Hendricks or Sofia Vergara whose bodies are basically superpowered weapons aimed directly at the collective crotch of America." Amen. 

Playlist: NM-FingSFW Power Songs for when you want to feel like a bad ass Lady

Have I mentioned that we grew in Sacramento? Yeah, we did, and because of that we have a special brand of white girl flava. I have long maintained that no matter how classy, successful, or far from the nest a Sacramento girl flies, she will always secretly know how to dance like she's starring in a rap video. I witnessed this first hand at the last wedding I went to, for one of my original Sacramento homies. We requested "Pony" by Ginuwine and the dance floor turned into the hip hop version of Dirty Dancing. 


I'm not a big music person - like, I don't go to tons of concerts or try to like bands before they are cool. I generally use music to boost moods and as the soundtrack for my life. The two general categories are power songs to boost energy/excitement, and crying songs for crying. However, there are a lot of flavors within these two categories, and I think my favorite flavor of power song is the inappropriately dirty, sometimes anti-feminist, way too hardcore for my goofy 5'9" white girl ass rap song. I used to listen to these songs to get pumped up before basketball games, and in college I had some pretty hardcore mixes for listening before my races. But now, in my old age,  I love these songs for my drive to work on Mondays (and every other day I drive) when I would really rather be doing anything else. I love them for my runs. And I especially love them for chair dancing at work and laughing to myself that my coworkers are none the wiser to the dirty things I'm blasting on my iPod.


These are some of my favorite inappropriate power songs. I know I am forgetting some, and I'm no expert. What did I miss? Parents, do not hit play on these videos. You may never be able to look at me the same way again. Friends - make sure you're wearing headphones in the work-space. Enjoy!

Recognize: you are nature's bitch.

Being a Holar Bear, I have a unique perspective on the way humans interact with nature.  I think in general, humans view everything a wee bit more anthropocentrically than they should. You may be worried that this is going to turn into the ethical rant from a super-hippie-flower-cub, but you'd only be partially correct. I tend towards the practical in almost every situation. Some of you may be saying "HB, what is practical about those early 90's Queen Latifah style hoops you are wearing?" The answer: They go with EVERYTHING, they let you know I am a Lady, and also that I am not afraid to wear giant gold hoops so you shouldn't eff with me. See, practical!
But I digress. My reasons  for believing that people are a little too focused on people are things such as: many varieties of animals can kill you if they want, storms eat houses, people flesh is squishy and their talons are useless, and Nature gives us food. I am keenly aware of my place in nature's grand scheme and I am always frightened for the humans who chose to believe that because their brains are bigger (squishy), that they are invincible. 
I cringe when I see a person with their back to the ocean, I shake my fist at people who try and keep wild animals as pets, I giggle when I hear about people wanting to swim with dolphins, and I am genuinely saddened when people waste resources because they are entitled or lazy.
On a lighter note...I love it so so so much when nature bitch-slaps stupid people back to reality (note: I said bitch-slap, not maim or kill, or devastate). Enter a favorite Internets Gem of mine: Animals being dicks. Enjoy.

HB

I like Young Adult literature, and I'm not ashamed

I've shamelessly devoured almost every popular young adult series to be released in the last 10 years. And before that, it didn't count, because I WAS a young adult. My Babysitter's Club and Sweet Valley high obsessions were totally legitimized (speaking of which, if you loved Claudia and gang as much as I did, check this out). It started (continued?) with Harry Potter, of course. I was the creepy 23 year old who obsessively sniffed out a copy of the 7th book on it's release day in Santiago, Chile. Then I was the creepy 23 year old crying while reading the conclusion on my flight back to the states. Totally normal stuff.


I admit that I also read the whole Twilight series, for which I was endlessly ridiculed. Yeah, it's written by a Mormon with a crazy religious subtext, but whatever, it was entertaining. Most recently, I went through the whole Hunger Games series in about a week. You guys, this one is so good. It's dark and scary and a little bit twisted. And the main character, Katniss, is a kick ass heroine that I wish I had read about as a young lady. My only criticism was how short the books and series are. It's easy to burn through a book in a day or two.

Happy Friday!

This Friday, let's all do a sexy dance in honor of Halloween!

Extra sexy for good measure:

Ladies Love Mindy Kaling

I just pre-ordered Mindy Kaling's book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? This is a big deal, because I have been temporarily banned from buying hard copies of books due to the trauma of our recent move out of a second story home and into a third story apartment. BF and I had some "conversations" about whether it made sense for me to be holding on to my 40 pound micro-econ textbooks from grad school. "Lee Friedman is a genius, LEAVE ME ALONE" wasn't a very compelling argument, so BF granted me long-term use of his kindle with the understanding that I would download weightless copies of my train-reading instead of amassing more books that would eventually need to be moved out.


So yes, pre-ordering a hard cover copy of a book is a big deal around our home. I can't really say anything about my imaginary best friend Mindy that people haven't said before me: you feel like you know her, she speaks for women like me, she's g-d hilarious. Ladies love her.


You know what else is awesome? Her website. I highly recommend you waste some time reading through. My favorite find is the audio file here: it's  Mindy reading the section from her book called "Best Friend Rights and Responsibilities." Fluff, she's talking to us!


"It is super weird for us NOT to share a bed. How else will we talk until we fall asleep?" - TRUTH.

A Dress for my Box of Wine

Want: The Baggy Winecoat! Boxed wine is kind of a baller on a budget staple around my house. The BF and I are big fans of Target's Wine Cubes. We drunkenly stormed the booth at the SF Chronicle wine competition tasting event to let the poor rep know exactly how much we enjoyed the Sauvignon Blanc. We're classy? 


Seriously though, this would really fit in with my lifestyle. Park drinking, ballpark drinking, tailgate drinking. And, as one comment on Hairpin notes, you can keep your hands free for snacking! Win win!

Junk Wars

Seems like those creative types in TV Land finally figured out how to play the Penis and Vagina game! 

Who can say it loudest?


Holar Bear can always say it loudest.

What I've Learned in Consulting: Everything I Knew Before is Wrong

I grew up with a set of decidedly non-business-pants wearing parents. That's not to say that my parents weren't successful, but thankfully for us sisters they were not single-minded career people that instilled in us the values that work comes first and family comes second. My dad was home every night and read books out loud to us (like The Hobbit-the whole thing!) over many bed times. My mom was a small business owner, which allowed her to pick us up from school and make delicious dinners for us most nights. My step-mom was a teacher who orchestrated the most amazing home arts and crafts projects for us. We were very lucky little biscuits and bears.


This arrangement produced two relatively well-adjusted adults, but sometimes I feel like all the values they instilled in me just sort of vanished or don't make sense in the workplace I inhabit today. Continuing on from my warm household and liberal, middle/lower class high school to a 6 year stint in higher education (can I go back now?) at 2 public, awesomely hippy-liberal schools, I was sheltered in an environment of mutual kindness, the Golden Rule, and integrity.


After grad school, I started working for one of the Big 4 Consulting firms, where I had completed my summer internship and received a full time offer. I started down this career path not because I had ever dreamed of being a Consultant or even had a slight interest in business strategy. I was interested in cow poop and dairy farms! I wanted to bury my nose in research and policy analysis and be an expert! No, I signed away my life because I needed money after the aforementioned 6 years of college. So yes, this is all my fault. 


From my first day to my last day, my experience there was like 4 years of what-the-shit moments. I was not at all prepared to fit in with or excel in this space, and it took a toll on me, the one time over-achiever. I became so disenchanted in my job and with the world at large that my counselor (at work, not the mental kind, though I could have used one) told me it sounded like I was in an abusive relationship with my job and should quit. My career coach (who I hired to help me find a new job) told me that maybe I should think about a Leave of Absence because I sounded unstable. 


To put it simply, things were bad. And I can't help but wonder if I would have dealt with this better if I had grown up under different circumstances, or if maybe my parents could have made me a little more of a douche bag. I escaped the Big 4 with my mind somewhat intact, a whole lot of extra jadedness, and a handful of important biznass lessons. Here are some of the things I learned (un-learned) in my short business-pants life thus far. Follow my guidelines and I'm sure you'll be drinking scotch with Senior Management in no time.

Quote of the Day

I didn’t know they made jumpsuits in Capri-length, harem-pant varieties, though I was relieved to see the style didn’t diminish her exquisite camel toe one bit. The camel toe is the smile of the body, if the body were a face! My mother told me that. My mother did NOT tell me that.

 I love Real Housewives Recaps.

Drunk History = Awesome History

This entire series is genius. A friend's sister told me about this one weekend, and it pretty much ate up the entire next Monday at work. What can I say, I'm a good employee.

It's the perfect mix of history nerd love, loving the drink for realsies, and flawless acting and production value.

The one above is awesome, but this one is my favorite. " I want to lay down AND have a drink." Funny or Die disabled embedding, jerks.

Enjoy!

THIS IS NOT OK!!!! Halloween edition...

I am well aware that Halloween is one of those times of year that provides something of an excuse for walking around drunk and dressed like a hooker with the interests of a 6 year old (Slutty Kitty, Slutty Princess, Slutty Disney Princess).  I personally never use this particular "Hall Pass" as I am an adult woman with naturally big boobs, which means I spend the majority of my time trying to avoid making normal things look slutty (Slutty Business Suit, Slutty T-Shirt, Slutty anything that would look normal on most people).  
 Despite my choice not to participate, I try not to judge if other ladies choose to greet this holiday beaver first. I'm comfortable with you dressing "Sexy" (read: slutty, skanky). I'm comfortable with you dressing trashy and tacky. But that being said...there is a line and the above costume IS WAY OVER THE LINE. 


Someone please explain to me how dressing up as a "Sexy" Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtle (this is going to continue to stay in quotes, because if you think this is sexy, everything you believe/say should be in quotes, forever)  is remotely OK.

Lets break this down:

Ladies Love Jane Marie

A lot of the cool stuff I find on the internet is via The Hairpin. I don't know how popular this blog is in the wider world, but I think it's geared toward exactly my demographic: mid-late twenties, nerdy working ladies with feminist leanings and time to kill.

I stumbled upon the site when I was linked to "Women Laughing Alone with Salad" from Jezebel or Gawker or some such site. I was intrigued by this common affinity for bad stock photos.

As I continued to read the site each day, I noticed the great posts by one of the contributors: Jane Marie (nee Feltes). She's awesome and I have a raging lady crush on her. She likes 90's R&B and Hip Hop and she used to be a Producer on "This American Life" (check out one of my favorite episodes, where she gets Wall Street workers to say the things out loud that you only suspected they thought of them selves).

My favorite posts are those in her beauty-related self-help column, "how to be a girl."She makes amazing videos that actually break down how to do basic things like apply eye shadow and define your brows. As a lady who somehow made it to age 28 without ever learning how to properly do these things, these videos were revolutionary!

Side note: how does one normally learn to be a girl? Do your moms sit you down and teach you to apply makeup? Who tells you that you're not supposed to wash your hair everyday, or that you really should be waxing your lip? Am I the only one that missed these lessons in class? I taught myself how to french braid by googling "how to french braid hair." Is this normal?

Lady Jane also puts up a Friday bargain bin post with some amazing internets shopping gems. I found my home - made mozzarella kit from Zingerman's on sale through the bin!

So yeah, check out Jane's work on the Hairpin. I think you'll like it.

A Bit of Aunt Sandy Claus to Get You Through Your Monday

Sandra Lee is back for Halloween, and she's all cocktail no mocktail in her Halloween special! I think Holar will be pleased.

I'm going to watch this 4-minute best-of the special compilation on repeat to get me through Monday. Who wants to have a Semi-Homemade cocktail party with me? We might not survive, but it'd be worth it for the Tablescape I'm dreaming of creating.

Exercise Jackpot!

I'm running (old lady shuffling) my fourth half marathon on 11/20 in Monterey, CA, and I'm finally forcing myself on the long runs I need to prepare. I finished my 7 mile run on Saturday evening and clicked off my nike+ app, and JACKPOT! I have run exactly 777.7 miles - after hitting the 7 mile distance in my training! This must mean I'm about to win the lottery or become independently wealthy, right?

And before you get at all impressed that I have moved my ass over 777.7 miles in space, this is a running total since December 2008.

I should mention that the Nike + GPS app is great, and after I recently updated it, Dirk Nowitzki started talking to me, congratulating me on my runs. Since I run without headphones and my iPod talks out loud, it was a pretty awesome surprise for the people waiting at the bus stop I walked by. Me and Dirk - homies for life.

I'll let you know when the lotto money comes through. Should be any day now.

Make these cheap, yummy tacos

You may or may not have noticed recent news coverage about challenging economic times? No, maybe not, it's been pretty subtle. Believe it or not, things are not great out there in the world of business pants these days. I personally have been impacted by this economy in a few ways, and as such I'm currently a baller on a budget. This has been good in some ways - aside from accumulating a lot less useless crap, we have been cooking up a storm as a way to save money.

Last night we made an awesome new dish by tweaking a potato taco recipe I had wanted to try for a while. We "beefed" it up with the addition of soyrizo (vegetarian chorizo that is actually really good).

Exercise Peeves: Update

This morning in class we had a new instructor. I don't know where she came from - I think they may have found her on a corner in the Mission. Girlfriend was Russian (bonus points for an excellent accent), and taught the entire class in a hipster beanie. A HIPSTER BEANIE! While teaching a cardio pilates class. Look at your life! Look at your choices! Also, she sounded a lot like Paz de la Huerta... but Russian. How?

To get me to do burpies, you need to earn my respect first, and I will not do burpies for a Russian Paz in a hipster beanie. No siree.

UPDATE: I can't believe I forgot this detail. Her entire playlist was techno remixes of J-Lo and Destiny's Child. Where did you come from Hipster Russian?

Happy Friday!

Thanks for finding this awesome Friday dance, Scribe!

Tastes like feelings!

An illustrated guide to eating your emotions. The airplane/martini combination is spot on. Get out of my head, Hairpin!

Thiefbook

Facebook. The ultimate work time-waster. The ultimate stalking tool. The ultimate photo sharing/inside joke zinging/event planning tool. The ultimate Thief of Joy?

I joined facebook in the early days , before it became the all-encompassing monster it is today. It was in the days before walls, or photo-sharing, or "liking." Scrolling back to the first days of my page, it's funny to see how much things have changed. The early days are mainly my best friend Fluff and I writing back and forth that we miss eachother, making jokes that would be inappropriate for facebook consumption now, and having pretty personal exchanges that would be better suited for emails or personal messages.

I've Become One Big...

So that's why we started this blog...

“I look at the people in positions of authority in my office and see the stress and pressure they are under,” says one. She has lowered the bar beyond which satisfaction supposedly waits. “It makes me think, Well, maybe I don’t have to be in charge. Maybe I’ll be okay with just keeping afloat rather than making a splash.”

The Hairpin linked to this great article this morning. It's not that uplifting (someone has a case of the Mondays), but it does make me feel better about my present circumstance of unwillingly wearing super-corporate business pants.

Also spot on - this passage:

"And since we are, as a generation, more addicted to positive reinforcement than any before us, and because we have learned firsthand the futility of finding that affirmation through our employers, we have returned to our stuff-making ways, via pursuits easily mocked: the modern-day pickling, the obsessive Etsying, the flower-arranging classes, the knitting resurgence, the Kickstarter funds for art projects of no potential commercial value. "

*Shifty eyes* Ladies Bits *Cough Cough*

Happy Friday!

Source: Emotions with Jon Hamm

Back it up, it' s Friday!

Steal these Pet Names

I like animals more than I like most people. There is probably something wrong with me for feeling this way, but I can't help it - animals are so pure in their intentions and there is NOTHING better than the "welcome home" you get from your puppy at the end of a long day. When I'm going to visit someone's home, usually my first question is, "do have a dog? cats?" And at parties I'm the person that's sitting on the floor in the laundry room with the pent-up dog because he's totally lonely you guys!

I'm a firm believer in funny pet names. My first arfer is a 4-year-old terrier/poodle mutt named George Michael. My second is a 2-year-old boxer lady named Sweet Dee. Bonus: telling people my dogs' names is a great way to quickly gauge if we have common interests!

I want more pets, but I realize that with my 1-bedroom city apartment and that whole "work" thing, I can't. I dream of one day retiring to a dog compound in the mountains, next to my imaginary dairy farm. I'll make cheese during the day with the help of my herd of mutts. It's going to be AWESOME. In all my dog fantasies (eww, not like that weirdos) I name my future pets.

Since I can't have any more fur babies, and I have so many more name ideas, I wanted to share them with the internets. I've grouped them by theme, and though I'm partial to arfers, these would be good for cats, fish, birds, ferrets, monkeys - anything! Please steal these pet names.

She's Crafty: LA Face with an Oakland Booty

I love arts and crafts... which is why technology consulting is such a good fit for me, amIright? Yep, creativity all day every day!

When I started at my new firm, I not only regained the right to sleep in my own bed instead of hotels every night, but I took back about 60 hours of personal time per week. It's been great! I can have hobbies and a life again!

The first thing I took on after I quit was cross-stitching. My boyfriend tells me this is something only 65 year old grandmothers do, but whatevs, HB and I learned how to cross stitch from our step mommy when we were kids and it stuck.

Given that I will never be a person that has seasonal decorations or grown-up artwork in my house, homemade cross-stitches seemed like the perfect home decor. I went on the search for the perfect pattern, and I hit a jackpot with Etsy seller Steotch. This lady is mad talented yo!

I ordered a couple of patterns, but I just finished my first masterpiece: "A Fair Young Lass"

Rap lyrics and bum worship - it's perfect for my living room! I plan on hanging it next to the one piece of professional art I've ever purchased: a pencil sketch of Eazy-E.

This pattern might make me go back on the no-seasonal decorations philosophy, though. How can you say no to Muricah and butter?

Self Portrait

Holar's portrait came out so well, I decided to take a look in the mirror and paint a self-portrait.

On a side note, did you know that butteredbiscuit.com is a Jesus/cemetary website? Curious.

Hometown Shame

No, that's not a summer camp or reunion this lady is planning. It's my 10 year high school reunion. (Hopefully) made possible car-wash fundraiser. In front of our high school.

Did I mention it won't be happening until our 11th year out of school?

I'm too embarrassed to even joke about this one.

Holar Beezy

Productive day.

Speaking of Paula Deen

I present to you, Paula Deen Riding Things. This may be my favorite find yet. Goodbye rest of the day!

My favorites:

Exercise Peeves

There are so many things working against me: a gene pool based entirely in Michigan, a limitless, undying appetite for cheese, having Paula Deen's long lost twin sister for a mother, and most of all, the years of competitive athletics that let me eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, until age 23.

Now that I sit at a desk all day, every day, I'm faced with two choices: commit to intense exercise on a near-daily basis + eat in a responsible manner and maintain my weight, or sleep in + eat in a responsible manner and steadily gain 5-10 pounds a year. Notice that there's no weight loss option in that equation - that would require an additional "be hungry all the time" factor. And you wouldn't like me when I'm hungry.

Anywho, for now I'm going with the intense exercise and attempted weight maintenance approach. This means that on any given day I'm either taking a group exercise class or going for a long run. I'm a bit of a misanthrope on a normal day, but put me in a 6 am pilates/weight class or say "hey" on mile 4 of my run, and you'll see a whole new level of shifty-eyed bitchiness.

All this exercising inevitably puts me in contact with other human beings (jerks) and there are just so many things that annoy me. SO MANY. Since I like lists, I'll make a list of things that bug the shit out of me.

1. Over-Enthusiastic Instructors: Don't get me wrong, I don't want Michael Cera telling me to move my ass. But the minute you say, "sometimes when you smile, the exercise feels so much better!" while I'm holding plank position for minute 3 or trying not to shit my pants during a set of burpies, I'm totally over you. And if I could feel my legs, I'd kick you in the teeth.

Related: Instructors that refer to us as "girls" or "ladies", or refer to bathing suit season. Fuck you.

2. Hair: Don't exercise with your long hair down. When you do this, I have a reaction much like your elderly grandmother telling you to GET THAT HAIR OUT OF YOUR FACE. Hair elastics, rubber bands, hair ties - whatever you call them - they were invented for a reason. Mainly so that I don't throttle a stranger and violently pull her/his hair into a ponytail.

Related: That chick in my pilates class who uses those rubber-bands with plastic balls. And they always match her outfit. According to the licence place holder on her MINI (of course it's a MINI), she's a lawyer, and therefore NOT 8 years old. So stop it.

3. Clothing: So much to cover here. There's the girl in the slightly-too-worn-out capris that are COMPLETELY see-through when squatting. Please make it stop. Then there are the people in the full technical outfits. In the last race I ran, there was a girl pacing with me, wearing the running hotpants you see in the Olympics. This might be appropriate if she or I were moving at an Olympic pace, but when you're moving at roughly the speed of a glacier, you do not need technical gear or reduced wind resistance. Ever.

Related: Sports bras as shirts. We get it, you're in great shape. But I'm sure you can find an Under Armour or Nike shirt made of some kind of high tech liquid skin to make sure we all know it, while protecting us from your prolific under-boob and back sweat. Thanks.

Take note:

If your name has a hard O sound in it (like my real given name for instance, Polar Bear), don't be a slut. Its just too easy for your clever frienemies to sub ho or whore in for your "O" syllable. eg: Holar Bear.

Keep your heads up.

HB

You're Welcome.

The tagline says it all: Dedicated to the solitary soldiers keeping the grind alive.

I present to you: Dancing Alone to the Pony

Hometown Shame

HB and I are from Sacramento. I even lived there for 3 years after grad school. It's not that we're ashamed of our roots. But with exposure to the outside world and living in about 20 different cities and states combined, we gained perspective on the "unique" culture in which we were raised.

Sometimes I stumble across news stories, episodes of the Real Housewives of BH (thanks the Maloof), or more often facebook posts, that are just so telling of that experience that I pee myself laughing or shamefully blush. This one happened to fall into the peeing category.

Hustle on, Lady Sister. You keep that baby maker exclusive.

Look at your life, look at your choices

Sometimes at work when I'm being asked to care, like, REALLY CARE, about something like some obscure business process, or adding the "Special-Sauce"(this is an actual buzz word that real business pants wearing people use) to an employee engagement event, I think back to this sassy young man.

What are you doing? What, what, what are you doing? Seriously Sassy Gay Friend, how did I get here? Why are people telling me I need to work on my Executive Presence? Because in my calculations and observations, that means being a bigger asshole. I could write a novel about what I thought I'd do with my life, and how exactly I ended up being a Bob from Office Space, but that project is for another day.

I realize this is a total white person problem, so for now I will pass my time finding entertainment on the internet, creating ENTIRE documents and emails in buzz words, and generally finding all the humor I can in my day to day life, while waiting for my kind benefactor to come along. Any takers?

Listen to me Adele

Dear Adele,

Look: I am truly sorry you have obviously had a difficult couple of years in the 'ole romance department. And, I do realize how much better it must make you feel to purge those emotions in song, but seriously fellow lady, you're killing us.

Here's the situation: us ladies are out there in this man-world, fighting to be taken seriously as strong and level headed business people. We're using business-words while maintaining our business-faces in our business-pants. We're making things happen. Big things. And people are respecting the shit out of us.

The catchy power-beats of top 40 radio stations usually provide us background noise or headphone distraction for all this business action. And then, "Someone Like You" hits Number 1 one on the billboard top 100.

Suddenly we're Achilles being stalked by an army of rabid chihuahuas. We tear up and lose our business-voices. At the faintest rumble of those sweet, sweet, rolling piano chords and the sound of your sing-crying, our voices crack like Justin Bieber.

All of that crazy-sad is instantly transferred to us. For me, it's like everyone I have ever loved and lost walks in, tells me I'm fat, and then convinces me it's my fault that they've joined forces to come inform me.

On top of it all, you're a trickster. You've convinced us ladies that we like this. We like it so much, we pay money for it and give you awards. We've made that shit a number one hit, and now we have to deal with it more often. I'm going to need you to happy this stuff up. Stat.

We know how you feel, we do. But, be cool lady, you can just talk to us. We'll tell you why he's not worth it and how his new chick's ass may be awesome, but that's fading, and she'll never fix that one wonky eye. We're all sisters, theres no need to go ruining everyones mascara.

Thank you,

HB, Lady

P.S. Thank you for being pretty and not looking hungry (you get points for that)

Sister ESPN

I love my sister. She's one of my best friends, and my number one fan. It wasn't always that way. While we never outright hated each other, we weren't close when we were young. Despite being only two years apart in school, we led totally separate lives. It was probably because in a lot of ways, we are total opposites.

I like to call out my dark hair small boobs vs. her blonde hair big boobs (bitch), but the differences are actually much deeper. She's outgoing, I'm painfully awkward. She loves a good risk, and I am like the Comcast DSL Turtles - I'll wait and see, thank you very much. She's a spender, I'm a saver. But despite all this, as we have gotten older, we have become super close friends, and I love spending what time I can with her.

I think that the older I get, the less I care about what other people think, and the more I want to surround myself with people that "get" me. I don't really want to put a ton of effort into befriending and being around people that aren't super spectacular. That's the best thing about Hola Bear, and why we have become so close. Sometimes we don't even have to speak to know exactly what the other is thinking. Then, when we do talk, it's like we speak our own language. An example from a conversation several years ago:

Biscuit: Where is your apartment?

Hola Bear: It's in Oakland. Near Jack London Square.

B: I have no idea what that means. Where is it in relation to the dinosaurs?

HB: Oh it's pretty close, I'm right near the water.

Dad (overhearing): What the hell are you guys talking about?

Obviously I was referring to the dinosaurs in the Port of Oakland. I have no idea what they are actually called. Cranes? Cargo box movers? Brontosauruses? They look like dinosaurs, and so I always thought of them as such. I had never said this out loud, nor talked to HB about the Oakland dinosaurs, but she just got it. Because she gets me. And that's why she is so freaking fantastic.

Welcome to our blog. We have talked for a long time about putting our weird sense of humor into some sort of a project, and finally we decided on the most ground-breaking, original idea of all time: a lady blog for lady bits. Bow down to our wizardly creativity.

We hope you like it, but even if you don't - at least we'll have a few good laughs together, in our very own language.

Testing without testes.

Here goes the Lady blogs first test entry.

Not that there is anything wrong with testes. Its just that this test is testes free. Because its a lady test, on a lady blog, by a lady. This lady has no testes. 

Booyah!