This week, I bared my soul in the semifinals of Mars Studios' songwriting contest... and I lost. But I had a wonderful time competing, and I got some helpful feedback from the judges.
And, due to the lyrics of one of my songs, I was reminded of the most hilarious review anyone's ever written on Amazon.
It started because one of the two songs I played, Tissues, is a commentary about hookup culture -- which I think is gross and meaningless and empty. (But to each their own.) The girl in the song is singing to her "friend" that she "knew full well that you didn't love me," but she didn't want him to be alone.
But I love you enough that I care how you feel
Love you enough that I will hold you tight
I love you enough to give myself the raw deal
And help you through the night / Help you through the night.
And then the chorus:
And every week you take the garbage out, and go to the beach with your real friends
And I'm not one of them
And every week you throw the tissues out, and I am one of them
I know I'm one of them.
(You can watch the full video if you want -- I perform about 40 minutes in.)
So, yes. The metaphor here is that the girl in the story is a total major jizz rag. It's a hard song to play for an audience, because they take it super literally and look at me with all this pity and horror in their eyes. (One of the judges even wrote, "You must dump this JERK.") I am all for creative self-expression, but it definitely doesn't feel empowering to sit in front of a room full of people and play the role of a jizz rag.
So I thought I'd lighten the mood by sharing this ridiculous review, which definitely made me laugh out loud.
A mother's struggle
I want to start this off by thanking Kleenex for selling these in 36-packs. I've put it on subscription, and if they want to start selling a 72-pack, sign me up. I have three reasons for needing this much Kleenex, and their names are Liam, Samuel and Hank.
This is how it goes in this house. First the Kleenex disappears. Then the toilet paper. Then they go for fabrics. And you don't want it to get there, unless you're ready to invest in a five gallon drum of Fabreeze.
This used to be a good Christian home. But it's not about moral judgment anymore. I'm way beyond that. I'm in survival mode. If I don't supply absorbent paper products, I'm going to find my dish towels hidden in the basement, stiff as aluminum. The other day, I almost cut my hand on a sock. I am sorry to speak so frankly, but with three teenage boys, a woman has got to be practical.
The funny part is, they think they're being sneaky, with their 45 minute showers and sudden need for "privacy", as if I'm going to walk in on them journaling. They slink around the house like unfixed cats, while I try to announce my location at all times. No one needs to ask me to knock anymore. I knock on the walls. I practically wear a cow bell. I'm not looking to catch anyone by surprise, believe me. I'm just trying to get through this.
The other day my husband was watching me unload the groceries, and he asks me, all sweetness and light, "Honey, what're you doing with all that Kleenex?"
I about knocked him off his chair.
Way too funny!
For a moment, I felt smug that teenage girls don't need 36-packs of tissues to get them through puberty. But then I felt disheartened by something Peggy Orenstein, one of my favorite columnists, wrote in her recent bestseller, Girls and Sex.
In short, she writes that today's young women don't know the difference between "sexy" and "sexuality." They think that looking good and performing certain acts that turn guys on is the same thing as sexuality. It is not.
(And, as I wrote in 5 Good Reasons to STOP (Or At Least Cut Back On) Watching Porn, one survey found that 32% of women who struggled to orgasm with a partner cited "I'm too in my own head or focused on how I look" as the main reason why.)
Moreover, Peggy writes,
"It sometimes struck me that we’d performed the psychological equivalent of a clitoridectomy on our daughters: as if we believed, somehow, that by hiding the truth from them (that sex, including oral sex and masturbation, can and should feel fabulous) that they won’t find out, and so will stay ‘pure.'" Read more >
Not sure I 100% agree with that assessment -- but I do, at the very least, agree that it's sad that looking good for boys is more important to girls than feeling good. But the Girls and Sex author continues with some statistics about adolescent female masturbation.
Basically, a huge number of girls don't masturbate -- and a huge number do shave their pubic hair. It's sad, she notes, that girls only go "down there' with a razor, and not for their own pleasure -- even though this can result in painful cuts and bumps; ingrown hairs; and a disrupted microbiome.
(If you're going to do something with the hair down there, why not just dye it pink?)
But I digress. The point is:
1. Read the Amazon review. It's funny and creative, and we could all use a bit more of that in our lives.
2. Then go create something -- it's fine to consume 80% of the time, but you should create some of the time, too. A Google executive I know recommends 20%. (Need help getting started? I gave some advice at the end of this post.)
3. Peggy Orenstein's new book is awesome. Strongly consider reading it.
And 4. I am not really a jizz rag. (But isn't it interesting that, even though "hookup culture" is supposedly so empowering for women, everyone feels so sorry for me whenever I play that song?)
About the Author
Eva is a content specialist with a passion for play, travel... and a little bit of girl power. Read more >
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