Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Giggles - Stop Being Ungrateful!

Sometimes I forget that my own personal agony as a young lady growing up in America with a full-time job and and still having the privilege of living at home compares in no way to women in other countries who need to marry to get out of their home (many times, these women have no say). This compares in no way to women who have to sneak Bibles into their home countries to practice their own religious beliefs. And this compares in no way to women who are castrated.

I have friends and we dance in mirrors with only our underwear on -- after showers with actual hot water.  I could sing Lady Gaga out loud to my mom in the middle of the street, as she walks away to avoid embarrassment.  I could kiss my boyfriend.  Anywhere. And hold his hand. I could litter and not get stoned, but not really because I do not litter (btw littering is inhumane and not the answer - I hope you're convicted if you litter).

And so I'm thinking about these ideas this morning, and the most uncomfortable chain of events occur: I walk into work this morning with a french vanilla medium iced coffee from Chock Full-of-Nuts, and watched it spill from my desk to the floor as I reached over for a folder.  A whoosh sound occurred and I was embarrassed because I knew that everyone heard the coffee drop because it was inundated with ice but it's okay, I don't need help; please, people, don't rush too much to help me.  I then had to run to the kitchen area for napkins to clean the coffee up so I could wipe down with Clorox wipes to scare away stickiness.  Then I cleaned the coffee that sprinkled on my legs.  That's when I noticed the eight mosquito bites I have on my left leg that make me look like a heroine addict.  It was 11:25am, and I was still without make-up.

This is a caffeinated skank's crazy morning.

But I read a blurb about how the government in Saudi Arabia is shutting down unlicensed gyms for women.  First of all, gyms are gender-segregated in Saudi Arabia.  Male gyms are licensed by the government, and female gyms aren't.  That's the reason the government could do such a disfortune to it's women.

Now, let's analyze this.
1 - Saudi Arabian women who are educated are the ones pushing for the country's female fitness.  Makes sense.  The search for knowledge brings a discontent with the status quo, and change begins to itch like a bad wedgie.  Knowledge brings Discontent.  Perhaps this is why a country like America is made up of the most unhappy people.  We're so much more free to do as we please, than women in other countries, but depression rates nationally are astronomically.  My coffee spilled this morning, and I lacked caffeine until lunchtime.  But I could drive, and I could show off my curly hair, and I could jaywalk.

Unhappy American women, why are you so downcast?  

2 - Seriously, if gyms were banned for females in America, I wouldn't feel so bad about my giggles.  (this spelling is intentional, as you saw in my last post. ;) ).

Why is it that women so thin fight for gyms that fat people like us take for granted? 

Something is clearly wrong with this picture:

<------- Ladies, really?  You need a polka dot bikini!

4 - A guest on Chelsea Lately tonight spoke out on the topic of Stephanie Pratt, Spencer Pratt's sister (from the Hills), coming out the fridge talking about how she's bulimic:  "You know those Hollywood girls.  You have to tie them together to have sex with them."

Sometimes being a little chunky is crucial to, you know.  But at the end of the day, we want to see your boyfriend walking down the street next to you.  Not having to walk behind you because you take up the whole block.

In conclusion, I don't want to take advantage of gyms that I take for granted.  I don't want to complain about having to work-out when truth is people complain about not being able to work out.  And I never, ever want to be so fat, you can't see my bathing suit bottom (check numbers 1 and 3 in picture).

Until next time, hit the gym for all the women who can't!  And Saudi Arabia, hang in there!

Monday, June 29, 2009

In the beginning...

  • ...there was a dot.
  • And the dot asexually reproduced into two dots,

  • which reproduced into four dots,

  • which reproduced into eight dots.
And so on. And so on.

And it was good.

And then she rested.

The year is traditional Spain, and four flamenco dancers, two men and two women, line themselves in front of four guitar players in a plaza in Andalusia in the late afternoon, after the excruciating sun has decided to take a little nap until tomorrow's new work day. There are trees everywhere with bitter oranges worthy only of a jam. History everywhere made tangible through cathedrals and castles and clouds that speak of wars and victories. The sun's hibernation allows festivities of leg shaking and kicking and knocking. Faster and faster and faster. Spanish pride.

Their attire? Let's focus on the female attire: adorned with either a well-brimmed polka dotted hat, or a wide, lively colored flower, she wears a red dress clad with white polka dots. Everywhere. It's fun. It's a mess. It's wild. But it's whole and coherent. Sort of like how this blog will be. It'll dance with ideas. It'll sweat with female hotness. It'll be traditional to certain values. But in the end, it will be fashionable. You can wear it. And you can pass it to your friends and their little girls.

Le Polka Dot Chic is broken down into 3 components:

1 - Le-isure Talk - discourse on everything from boys to skanks to fashion to photography to news to commentary to gossip to cities to travel to cooking to making out to not making out. this is your cafe talk. this is your late-night sleepover talk. this is the talk you say in your head when you're bored and staring at something fat and giggly. (like your lower gut, but hopefully not for too long) Ooooo yes, and this includes made-up words that I like to create from time to time when the English dictionary and every other language fails to express something I am trying to communicate. Sometimes a word will be a mixture of different words from different languages (as you will see in #2). Nonetheless, it will be, and I have spoken.

Le-isure Talk looks like the following but I will provide further explanations in entries. This le-isure talk occurred one day last week over dinner with two of my most favorite girls in the whole entire world:

Dot A - I have done it in the car; now it's time to do it on top of the car.

Dot A - I did it in a national park.

Dot B - You let him hump your face?

Dot C - I let him hump my face and he fixed my eyes.

And then, that's when I will go into a lengthy discussion on Le Polka Dot's trendiest sunglasses. LOL.

2 - Le-cessities - Le + Necessities - this is your must-own section. i will say no more. if you do not own these, you will live most unhappily and unfulfilled. and die a rich person's lonely death.

Dress done by Venezuelan fashion designer Carolina Herrera - a fan of our favorite, you guessed it, in the late '80's and '90s.

3 - Le Amor - what we love and what loves us back. what we don't love but still loves us. (some of you know this). and what we absolutely will never love. ever.

Please feel free to drop a dot every now and then, and I promise to bring you complimentary dots as they come. hopefully, they will form some making-some-sort-of-sense picture eventually. if not, well, they still do well on their own.

Love Me!