trying to be sexy in a world that only accepts sexy. and doing it in a way that isn't an oxymoron.

oh also?

last week i really just wanted to look hot. like head turning hot. and all winter i have basically been wearing the same thing- jeans, peacoat that never comes off because it's so damn cold in all my classrooms, and boots. feelin' the frump.

so last week i put on probably the sexiest pair of shoes i own, these skin tight leather boots with ridiculously high heels and didn't wear a coat. actually wore something figure flattering. lipstick. curled the hairs. dark eye shadow. i was only going to school, but shoot, i was going to GO to school. right?

the catch: those sexy boots, yeah they are freakin' old. and the material on the heels is all peeled back. i'm way too poor to justify spending sixty bucks for new ones. solution? that black tape, it has a name that i'm blanking on, just wind it around the heels and WAH LAH! boots are good to go. but you have to be careful not to walk on grass or in anything wet like snow, because the adhesive in the tape fails.

got to school, walked the walk, (it's a long walk to class) avoided the puddles and grassy shortcuts. and then, an obstacle- stairs. steep stairs. two guys standing at the top of the stairs. in my head: oh yeah, i'm hot, i'm totally working these stairs, those two guys won't know what hit-  and BAM, fall down the stairs, grab onto hand railing, and instantly turn red. and start laughing obnoxiously loud and looking around. the two guys who were definitively never checking out my butt were very concerned and i was very embarrassed. and the tape job i did on the heels? totally shredded. i'm just not sexy hot anymore. i can barely walk down a flight of stairs in heels. marriage has lulled me into the comfort of sweatpants and ponytails.

today i tried again. squeezed into my hotpants, aka jeggings, a tucked in white v-neck, and my orange high heels. happy to report only one trip, and that was at the very beginning of the trek through trax.i ran into my friend from class, a late thirties guy who is gay, and he exclaimed, "oh work it girl!"

**i include the part about him being gay so you will know i don't have a secret older-man-boyfriend. because he's not into gals. and i do have a thing for older men. and grey hair. and slightly leathery skin... one day travis will be the most beautiful old man... ahh but i digress.**

the point is, i can still squeeze into my hotpants and wear obnoxious colored heels. even if i do get overly excited about a new vacuum. once a friend on facebook told me it doesn't matter what i look like anymore because i'm married. i found that very offensive for several reasons. firstly, our culture really only values me for one thing and that is how i look. for him to tell me that, it was like he was saying, "don't worry, now that you have nothing to offer, you have permission to blend into the background and become invisible." and the older women get, the more invisible they are. don't believe me? how many 40+ women do you see in the media? yep, guys get older and they just get better looking, like i just said, and women get older and we are hidden. we are raised to obey patriarchy, then only valued for how hot our ass looks in jeans, and then we bear children and raise them, which is no small task, we acquire wrinkles, extra pounds, grey hair, and it's all over.
phew, that was negative and sad. not sure what it has to do with me wearing orange heels and wanting to look hot. seems like an oxymoron maybe?
yes, i'm married and slightly invisible. like this:

because now that i'm married, there is no reason for any man to try to be just friends, because i have only one thing to offer a man and now the possibility of that offer is gone.

rant, rant, rant. i can curl my hair and wear high heels and still be a feminist. surprise!

i do have a best friend who is a male and we are and have always been just friends. 
it's possible.
i'm married, and i'm still workin' the hotpants. even if it's just for me. it is really awesome to know that travis finds me just as sexy in sweats as in lingerie.
sometime, tell an older woman in your life how beautiful, wonderful, and intelligent she is. she probably doesn't hear those things enough.
i refuse to hate my body for aging. i refuse to hate myself for getting grey hairs. for you mothers out there, don't you dare hate your body if it's not what it was before childbirth. ok. 

that'll do pig, that'll do.
wth, please stop blogging and do your homework.
xo