An Interesting Social Phenomenon

First of all, I'd like to respond to Regina George's comment on my last post. The Roni hates it when people steal her catchphrases, and The Roni would like the record to reflect that it was SHE who coined the phrase "crush celibate" earlier this month. FURTHER, if The Roni can get past her bitter cynicism and frustration with men and relationships to a place where love abounds and there's a rainbow behind every cloud, then surely Regina George can see that too? RG, you have to look up, otherwise everything will just look down. Get on The Roni bandwagon (not literally)and realize that optimism really is the best policy. No one wants to hit it with a cynic. Trust The Roni on this one.

Second of all, there is an interesting phenomenon I would like to address. Today at TGLSOAT The Roni noticed a, well, noticeable amount of Hallway Avoiding going on. The Roni must admit she was participating in said hallway avoidance. But she was DEFINITELY once avoid-ED herself and once was complicit in a plot to avoid. I was just amazed at the amount of alternate-route-selecting-so-as-to-avoid-crossing-paths-with-someone that was going on. I mean sure, sometimes you're just not emotionally prepared to run into someone, and sometimes you forgot to put mascara on, or your jeans might as well be painted on to your enormous ass, or your hair looks like you've been taking pointers from Don King. Sure, we've all been there. But sometimes you just have to grab yourself by the balls and walk down that hallway. You see The Roni coming towards you, she's scary looking, she strikes fear in the hearts of men, but just give yourself a slap in the face and remind yourself that there are dozens of witnesses in WB in case she should bring about your untimely demise, and besides, there's nowhere to stash a body in TGLSOAT.
What I'm saying to you is this, buck up camper. You see me coming, you don't have to say hi, you don't have to stop, but for pete's sake, don't swerve the other way right in front of me. I see it and it makes me want to bitch slap you. You know who I'm talking about.

The lesson of all these things, friends, is to put on our big girl panties. Sure, we may wish we could emulate praying mantises (manti?) and bite the heads off of men after we mate with them. (Let's not even talk about the times we just wish we could mate with them in the first place...) We may want to run into Secured Transactions instead of being forced to cross paths with some hideous beast (say, The Roni). But people, we are adults! We can't join the Crush Franciscans just to avoid men! We can't pretend like we forgot our pocket protector and turn around and run the other way! This crap is right there in front of us. Pull those superman panties up and deal with it. Oh, and don't forget about sunshine and roses. And puppies and candy. Get on the optimism train!

Love is in the air

Ah February, the month of love...its very approach fills The Roni with thoughts of roses and chocolates and tender kisses. It's true, Dear Readers, The Roni loves love. She may be a cynic in every other way, but if there's one thing that turns her into a puddle of goo with a big butt, it's true love.
And right now it appears that love abounds! Even The Roni has found herself surrounded by love, albeit in the form of multiple inappropriate crushes. Boys just can't stop being cute and nice to The Roni and she just can't stop forming big, whopping crushes on them! And she's not alone - everywhere around her, her Close Personal Friends are falling prey to the swan song of l'amour. I don't know what's in the air (love?) or what's in the water (some kind of chemical causing a strange allergic reaction of love?), but I like it. So this year, let's try something different; let's put our bitter, jaded cynicism on the shelf and take our newfound love of love to bed.
Speaking of attempts to get into bed, I have for you some much-needed Blind Items!

Which member of the Panty Posse reached a major milestone over break and called The Roni to leave her a message giving her a heads up?

Cheers to Greek Gods for finding new girlfriends...in four days. The Roni had no idea it was possible to fall in like so quickly, but if anyone could do it, this serial dater could. Now hook The Roni up with her med student friends!

Violets to GW for throwing a sick party at his sick apartment last night! He may not be a breeder, but The Roni loves any man who bakes homemade bread for the tea sandwiches he has strategically spread on trays amongst multiple trays of homemade sweets. The Roni was particularly partial to the mini key lime tarts. And the cookies. And the Fritos. Oh yes, you know The Roni loves Fritos. Thank you, GW; if you ever change teams, call me. I'll eat whatever you bake.

Which of The Roni's new major crush objects found himself leaving the best bar review ever, going to a late night dance party in a stranger's apartment with two friends, leaving - but only with one friend, having lost the other - only to make the brilliant decision to hop a train in order to cross a bridge. The Roni thinks this was maybe the product of impaired judgment, and she disapproves because there's nothing she likes less than having a crush object killed in a freak train accident (if I had a nickel for every time that happened...). But she will let it slide this once because he (foolishly!) allowed her to...wait for it...cut his hair...into a Mohawk! Awesome.

We have a new named member of the Close Intimate Friends - congrats to Self-Created Drama (that's her Indian name) for making it into the ranks of people who find themselves in situations so ridiculous that The Roni can't help but write about it on her oh-so-public ether-manse. And thank you to Self-Created Drama for finding herself, yet again, entwined in "Are We or Aren't We?" drama! The Roni doesn't know what's going on either, but she loves the drama.

Ok, I think that does it. If you remember some drama that The Roni doesn't, let me know. For now, remember to love love! February may be short, but it can be a long, cold, lonely month, and I don't know about you, but I am certainly hoping someone will give me a teddy bear and some chocolates to keep me warm at night. Happy Hunting!

Girls Can Have Hott Butts Too...

Two things happened recently which have left The Roni speechless. (And by speechless I, of course, mean I haven't stopped talking about them yet...)
The first occurrence was a strange voice which spoke to me one day over break while I was sitting on the couch watching my third straight day of the Sex and the City Box Set stuffing my face. Suddenly, out of the blue, I hear "pass me a dorito." I look all around the living room, but there was no one there! "Down here, fat ass. Gimme some fritos, biatch." And then it hit me. My ass was finally talking to me. And it was telling me to feed it fritos. It was time for a change.
And so, in fear of my ass, which had officially taken over my life, I decided to "Run Girl, let me see your body sweat." That's right, I took it to the gym.
It was here that Scary Thing Number Two happened. I decided to mix up my work out, and thought I'd try a H.A.B.I.T. class - yes, that's Hips, Arms, Abs, Buns and Incredible Thighs. Those all sound good, right? I could use all of the above. So in I go to my first HABIT class.
This was a mistake. I should have known that any class at the undergrad gym with the words "Incredible Thighs" in it is a BAD idea. But I was foolish - I was blinded by my ass, which had grown to such proportions as to impeded my peripheral vision. It was time for a change. Or so I thought. Well, in walks The Roni to the aerobics room and it is FILLED, just REPLETE with spandex clad 12 year olds with their blonde bouffants piled up into these high ponytails that are just about as high and tight as their little high and tight 12 year old...well, you get the idea. I know instantly I am in trouble. Of course the instructor knows no limits on her desire to torture me, the elephant in the room (ha! when was the last time you got to use that expression in reference to yourself!). She begins the class with some "stretching." Suuuuuure, yeah, I buy that. Just call me the next time you're stretching on your own and you begin with some deep knee bends and ass out hamstring stretches. Basically it was a means to flaunt these teeny little undergrad spandexed behinds in my face to remind me that not only should I never miss another HABIT class again, but I should just plumb NEVER leave the gym! The next class starts in twenty minutes, you with the big booty, I highly recommend you stay for it. And the one tomorrow morning for that matter. In fact, here are the keys, why don't you just stay here and hit the treadmill before that?

Ok yes, this is a little self-deprecating. I realize that. And I say it not so much to remind you just how voluptuous the ass is (1-800-WHOLE-LOTTA) but to illustrate how teenie and...and perky...and tight these undergrad behinds were! I mean, I was just blown away. And I am telling you, if I gotta sit in a HABIT class every night for the next four months, I am getting me one of them. And a pair of hot pink spandex. Apparently those are tout la mode amongst the teenie ass set.

So to you, dear readers, I say, it's not just hot little law school hunnies who can have sweet tushies - Girls Can Have Hott Butts Too!