Welcome To The Party, Bad Wolf!

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce my main partner in crime for the last 11 years and the baddest bitch I know. Rosie (aka Bad Wolf) is now contributing to the blog. If you think I am warped, just wait until she unleashes.

On an admin note, the blog might be undergoing some altercations... er, alterations in the next few days while the two of us figure out the best way to set this up. Have patience with us!

My Style Icon This Autumn

They always say that moving to a new town is a clean slate. Although I don't want to completely transform, I am going to embrace the opportunity to fine tune one aspect of my life: my wardrobe! I have gotten complacent the last few years. Khakis, V-necks and ballet flats are my go-to uniform for work. I always used the weekends as my chance to bust out the fun clothes but lately you are lucky to see me outside of sweats, flip-flops and a T-shirt on a Saturday. My general attitude has been "Why bother?" I am seriously teetering in to "What Not To Wear" territory, and have found myself looking over my shoulder to make sure Stacey and Clinton aren't going to swoop down on me.

I have gotten crazy inspiration from my new TV obsession Mad Men. My new style icon is the sexy office vixen Joan Holloway.

Proof that curvy girls are sexy

This lady totally makes me want to grab a box of bright auburn hair dye, slap on some red lipstick and sashay around the office in shift dresses and heels. I am bordering on girl crush territory here.

I already have the hips for it. The clothes in the stores this season support the look. Only thing is I have to find a good stylist to do something with this dark blonde mop that I have been sporting on my head lately. Otherwise... think I can pull it off?

The Sound Bite That Became My Tipping Point

I am that elusive creature that all the political pundits have dedicated endless hours of speculation to: the bitter, disenfranchised Clinton supporter. Not quite a PUMA (party unity my ass) but very close. I admire and respect Hillary Clinton. When Kerry lost in 2004, I comforted myself by saying that everything would all be alright when Hillary took over in 2008. In the early days before the primaries, I was positive that Clinton would hand that punk Obama a piece of his own ass.

Obama had never really inspired warm and fuzzy feelings in me. I believed that he made a pit stop in the Senate just to get directions to the White House. I thought he talked a good game but lacked the fortitude to back it up. Biden as his running mate didn't help. Although I had quit believing in the fairytale of a Obama-Clinton ticket, Biden struck me as a pompous, sneaky Beltway insider; a Democrat version of Cheney.

Despite being a life-long Democrat, I found myself taking a look at McCain. A very quick look since I am as left as you can get on most social issues. And even though American women have possessed the right to vote for less than a century, I kicked around the idea of just sitting this election out. When I was in the Army, I used to chastise fellow soldiers for not taking the time to vote. "What other job to you get to choose who the CEO of your company is? We get a say in who our Commander-In-Chief is going to be... how can you throw that away?" I would preach. Quite the hypocrite, aren't I?

I wasn't expecting much from the Democratic National Convention but yet I found myself getting energized. Not surprising that Hillary Clinton's speech was the one that convinced me that I couldn't sit on the sidelines for an election this important. She was on fire! Even 2 days later, these words keep ringing in my ears:

"We don't need four more years of the last eight years."

No we don't, Senator Clinton...no we don't.

I tip my hat to you, Hillary Clinton. You are a strong, admirable woman who continues to be an inspiration. Your gracious backing for Obama proved that you could check any ego at the door and put your country's needs first. I would have loved to seen you sworn in as the first female president but I won't let my disappointment cloud my judgment.

Dirtbag Alert: Dante Moore

Dante Moore
, a computer engineer who was fed up with being a nerd who got no play from the ladies, has taken it upon himself to write a "help" book for single women. The advice found in "The Re-education of the Female" (ugh... just typing that title made me break out in to hives): Learn how to cook man-friendly meals, do as you're told, stay pleasant and non-confrontational and, above all else, DON'T GET FAT!

Here is a little sample from his manifesto:
"The fatter you get, the more you decrease your potential single-man pool. Let me give you an example. When you go to the grocery store to shop, do you pick out the nastiest-looking, most rotten, smelliest fruit or meat you can find? Oh, you don't? Why not? . . . It's the same with men when they see baby elephant-sized, out-of-shape women."

Even better is:

"Here's a little secret, ladies: men never really ask for anything. They command. . . . And believe me, what you won't do, ten broads around the corner will."
Thank you, Mr. Dante Moore. Reading your vile excuse for advice made me vomit. Looks like I found a new diet plan. Maybe I should pick up a copy of your book, so every time I get the urge to eat, I can just read a passage and completely lose my appetite. Maybe I will lose the will to express my own opinions since I will be so weak from calorie deprivation. Then I can be really skinny and submissive and get a domineering, arrogant douchebag like you for a boyfriend.