Thursday, February 05, 2004

I wasn't going to write about the Janet Jackson boob fiasco. I'm so f-ing sick of hearing about it on tv, radio, and everyone talking about it. But this morning I heard that Justin Timberlake is putting all the blame on Janet. Now there is a slim chance that he thought she'd be covered underneath the bustier. But it was his damn hand that yanked her bustier-scarf thing off. I sure didn't see Janet reach up there and do it herself. Wait, maybe she used some sort of psychic mind-control and forced him to pull it off. Whatever. Pretty soon men will be blaming domestic violence and rape on women. Oh yeah, they already do.

I hate how our culture sexualizes women's bodies. We use T&A to sell everything from cars to beer. Breasts serve a biological purpose. If we weren't so damn obsessed with women-objects, the boob fiasco would never have happened.

Hubby and I are getting together with best friend (bf) and her husband for dinner this weekend. I'm really not wanting to go, but this week was her birthday, so it'll be a chance for us to give her the present, yadda yadda. I'm pretty sure the only reason they've been so willing to make and keep plans with us recently is the whole situation with her mom. Basically I think they just want an excape from the house and don't have many other friends to socialize with. Her mom also likes hubby and me, so she approves of them hanging with us (bizarre, I know) and probably doesn't give them shit about it. Yesterday hubby got some mild flak from bf's hubby. He had left a message a couple days ago to call him to give info on day spas. We don't know anything about any of them, so hubby asked around at work. We figured he was going to surprise bf for Valentine's Day, so we didn't hurry to call back. When hubby did call yesterday, bf's hubby got onto him for taking so long. Turns out he wanted it for her birthday. Like the saying goes "Lack of planning on your part doesn't constitute an emergency on mine." Petty things, I know, but they add up after a while.

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