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Dear Santa, I've Been a Really Good Girl and This Year...
I want a glittery hooha.
I don’t think I’m alone in this wish. Women spend an extraordinary amount of time doing things to ourselves to make ourselves more attractive to the opposite sex. Being I was in the midst of a Chocolate Rage (i.e. you’re pissed off for no reason whatsoever, so you’re eating chocolate to try to talk yourself back off the roof and unload the gun again) and flipping through articles about “10 Things You Can Do to be Happier Right Now!”, in which I hoped one of them recommended high doses of chocolate, I stumbled upon the reason why I was so unhappy. I don’t have a glittery hooha.
Along suggestion #5 of the happiness article, my peripheral vision was distracted by “Designer Vags”, as in, yes, designer vaginas. So I clicked on it because my curiosity can’t be stopped at times. To my determent. And there was this rational, nice little article all about elective surgery to make your hooha tighter…and shinier and smaller. You know, all those things women want with all parts of their bodies. Now, admittedly, I’ve had those girl thoughts about is it “pretty” enough on all aesthetic levels, but pretty much dismissed it when “Hey, I’ve got one, he doesn’t, and he wants to play here…so I think I’m good” rationally came to mind.
I mean, if I was going to have elective surgery to have something prettied up, I’d pick something a little more obviously seen on me and seen a little more often by the majority. Despite the rumors and what Sin wrote on the bathroom wall at the Vu, my hooha has only been seen by a privileged few. (And baby, if you’re reading this blog, I actually meant: privileged one, which is you, sweetie. Thanks.)
I wondered vaguely at the things women do to win men, and about our extensive procedures we do to pretty everything up—especially there, but I thought my hooha ponderings were at a close when I traveled to a different blog. I’d find something new to distract me from emails and folders. Oh, and my chocoholic rage. That’s why I was surfing, you know. I went to the Romance Roundtable (love them!), who were giving their favorite “must reads” and stuff. Alice recommended a Jennifer Cruisie blog, and being I love all things Jennifer Cruisie, I went, knowing I was in for a laugh.
And there I learned about the magical glittery hooha. And now I understand why women all want one. We read about the glittery hooha in books, and we want one for ourselves. We are suffering from hooha envy. (Freud is going to be so disappointed it’s not the other type, I know.)
Of course, the problem with glittery hoohas is that like the unicorn, French virgins in porn movies, and Bush’s Weapons of Mass Destruction, they don’t actually exist. Yet it’s clear we’re hoping for them anyway. We want that magical element (whether it be a glittery hooha or the perfect chicken recipe) that will make us so lovable nobody, especially not that hottie we’re currently laying six ways from Sunday, will want to ever leave us.
I missed out on the original discussion of Cruisie’s blog, and I’m curious, why is it the mythical glittery hooha cures all relationship ills? Why does the notorious rake reform for this Holy Grail of Vajayjays? And why are we women so worried about them to the point we’re putting jewelry in them or going under the knife to make them…perkier, just so we can attract the opposite sex? *grins* Why aren’t we ever worried about being smart enough to catch a man? Or is that rhetorical question? And as writers, clearly this is the myth we're all writing--should we feel guilty for perpetuating this ideal? What stories have you read that really flaunt the glittery hooha myth?
P.S. I've just noticed it's Veteran's Day...and thought about saving this blog for a different day but I thought, you know I bet the armed services have seen their share of glittery hoohas... Still, Happy Veteran's Day. Thank you for all you do and for protecting all our hoohas, not just the glittery ones.
42 comments:
But on the other side, aren't some heroines searching for the glittery cock? You know where the Glittery Cock makes them into a better woman and fulfills all their dreams, fantasies, hopes, desires . . . Excuse me while I go throw up! LOL. But most of those books are way old school were rape was just another form of I love you (hello, Whitney, My Love). And if I do come across any book where the heroine is an idiot and the hero is an idiot, bye-bye it goes.
I think that many of us who are writing now don't perpetuate the myth of the Glittery Cock/Magical Vagina. It's more about the hero/heroine coming together because of the other and how love can overcome all odds. So no guilt needed!
Pass the chocolate though . . . I'm in one of those moods, too.
Where not were. Sigh. Stupid typing.
Eating more chocolate.
Hey there is that glittery cock in Dangerous Games that works fine and 'randy' for me (love lora leigh) *g*
Who knows why people do the things they do. Want the things they want. But I've read that you can re-virginize yourself with a quick little operation. I can see the appeal to some (culturally) for doing that. Me... I never want to experience virgin sex again, ouch, like way ouch. And I get that some people might want tightening up after a baby. Hey, that's what ben-wah balls are for people.
Pass the choco's my way, too! mmmm..... chocolate....
Ahoy there pirates! Don't get too close cus I'm on sick leave....unmentionable malady..... ugh!
Freed from normal duties, my enquiring mind was roaming the cosmos. With all the stars in the galaxy to choose from, somehow I landed here to find Hellion contemplating her navel...or rather her non-glittery hooha!
Really Ely and Tiff! You do our esteemed skipper an injustice to sink so low....though I'll have one of those chocs if your offering. :wink:
The captain has clearly been contemplating that age old question of feminist philosophy:
How can I become the fairest one of all?
The greatest minds, from Plato to Bertrand Russel and Alfred Whitehead have failed to solve it, but here today I'm going to reveal the results of my researches.Its as yet unpublished so confidential for your eyes only.
The answer lies not in glittering hoohas or vital statistics. No its all in the eyes and face. The eyes connect directly with the mind and can reveal so much of mystery and beauty.
A smile with a wisp of hair fluttering across the face and eyes twinkling with mischief, laughter and intelligence is something no man can resist.
OK Tiff and Ely, perhaps you do have a small point, but when it gets that low, the guy should be well and truly caught anyway...then thats just the icing on the cake *g*
Crumbs I think I may be getting delirious....think I'd better lie down for a bit. :lol:
Y'know, I actually meant to read about re-virginization---I saved the article on the old computer and never transferred it over, so you've performed a pubic service for me. Hardyharhar.
I think romance novels zero in on the perfection of everything---who's the pinkest, wettest, tightest for the femmes; the guys just have to be iron hard and huge. It's all about the fantasy, when everything and everybody smells great, and there is TOTAL ACCEPTANCE. Don't we all want that? But I'm not going to have any work done, even though the girls need revirginizing more than anything. I'm ready for a National Geographic layout. But that's another topic for you.
Captain! - LOL! I'm totally cracking up! I've never heard of the glittery hooha, though obviously we all know the literary convention.
I haven't ever really had a thought about adjusting my hooha in anyway. Frankly, it works well for my purposes and is covered the majority of the time. I've never compared it to other women's hoohas so I have no idea how it measures up and I seriously don't want to know. There are plenty of other things on my body that I feel self-conscious about that people can see readily; I don't need any help.
But I think the glittery hooha eliminates the whole possibility of cheating from romance. I think cheating is such a dark spot for all of us that romances don't even want it mucking up our experience. This is fantasy, we're trying to escape the yuckiness of our real world. No cheaters as heroes and heroines.
Though obviously, cheating until after they sleep together. After they've intersected the glittery cock and the glittery hooha, apparently the intermingling of glitters is what does it. I'm fine if they mix it up before the "act."
I'm with Marn here - how do you *know* your hooha is subpar? Do you just ask? Compare? Study pictures? Pull out some mirrors at a sleepover?
Yikes *g*
Great blog Captain!
I have to head out to a dentist appt and I haven't read this entire thing but I swear I've been trying to figure out how to do a blog on vaginal rejuvenation. LOL! I heard about it on a radio show and I couldn't believe it! I have a ton to do today and now I'm pissed I'm going to miss this fantastic topic. But I'll check back in as soon as possible.
Especially since I just hired a new tutor and having a glittery hooha for our first session would be awesome! LMAO!!!
Mirrors at sleepovers. As if childhood sleepovers aren't already teeming with opportunities to feel subpar.
Ely, I have been guilty in wanting a glittery cock too. *LOL* And admittedly I don't feel that guilty about writing stories about either. (I am officially OUT of chocolate. This is going to be one long-ass day.)
Tiff: I would not want a repeat of virgin sex either. *LOL* And I'm sure the ben-wah balls would take care of it, but this is liposuction for people who don't want to do a billion crunches. (I'd rather have the liposuction, I think.)
Quantam: *smooches, hands him a bottle of scotch* For later, when you're feeling better. I'm sorry you're under the weather. EXACTLY. Q pegged me exactly: How can I be fairest of them all? It has been my delimma since childhood. I used to love the Ugly Duckling story because I thought it might apply to me, that I might one day grow into a swan. Still has not happened. *tsk, tsk* But I do have knowing eyes and a mysterious smile, so maybe I'll be able to pull something off. At least every once in a while.
And I think that's the Universal question, Q: are men ever well and truly caught? (I guess it depends on the guy. *LOL*)
Maggies: I'm so glad I could do a pubic service for you. It's so rare I do anything of a charitable nature. TOTAL ACCEPTANCE. Yes, that is probably the real fantasy, isn't it, and not the glittery hooha! *LOL*
Marnee: Oh, don't leave it at just cheating. I notice a lot of things in novels that gloss over the "sad" side of realities. Usually people don't die; and if they have a medical condition, they're able to live with it almost indefinitely until they croak at age 90, which apparently is an acceptable age to die. I find this particularly amusing when it happens in historicals. None of the heroines in connected stories have birth complications...or die of appenditis (sp?). Death, betrayal...there are lots of realities we want glossed over in our romances because we already have to deal with them here.
Hal: There is no way in hell I'm polling those who've gotten to see it and ask if mine measures up. I have enough self-esteem issues as it is. Nor do I want to see a bunch of pictures of various ones so I can comfort myself with the fact we're all "snowflakes" here...no thanks. I'll just take their word on it.
I just love Lani Rich's take on the glittery hooha. Really, I believe it all started out as fun and games. If you consider it from a publishing standpoint, the wigs want attraction. And that attraction doesn't have to have a reason, it's just because. All other aspects of the story better darn well be realistic or you get the "I'm not buying it," line.
So enter the wonderful world of Soap Operas, they really don't make sense. Nothing in their world does, now I haven't watched an episode in over a decade but they totally moved out of fantasy and into paranormal and there is always tons of cheating. As soon as one heroine finds her happily ever after another is there to snatch it away from her.
The difference-moles and voles. After reading Jo Beverley's response to the Glittery Hooha, I'm under the belief that we romance writers choose moles as our hero's and heroines, where as the lovely soaps choose voles.
That in of itself makes our heroines intelligent beyond any Clairol # 10. And way more appealing than anything Dr.90210 can enhance. As for the men in our novel lives, well they are our perfect creation, whether it be in body, heart, or in mind and if they're lucky we give him all three.
Wonderful blog, Hellion, as always.
Renee
*LOL* Terri, I'm sure your new tutor will be covered in glitter by the time you're through with him. *pauses* I'm not sure that sounds right. *coughs* Never mind. Enjoy the dentist.
OMG, I'm gonna miss this too! I got called into work today!!!! GAH! I'll just have to catch up later.
All I know is that I took vows... in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better or for worse til death do us part. There was no mention of... until my hoohah gave out... or until he lost all of his hair... or until it took him more than a twinkle in my eyes and a breeze to get him standing at attention!
I'm with Marnee, here. I've never given a thought as to whether I measure up in that area or not. And I'd really prefer that my daughter not have to worry about that along with every other adolescent drama she has on her plate at the moment.
Whatever happened to growing old gracefully? Do we do that anymore or are we fighting it every single step of the way?
Awesome blog, Hellion. I wish I could joing in all day! *Irish with a sad pout off to work*
Renee: I'm not sure the last time I watched a Soap Opera (the real kind, not the night time soap operas like ER or Grey's Anatomy which also could probably count as a soap opera...)--but it's been a long time. And they were hopping out of everyone's bed all the time and making everyone miserable around them. I never could understand the draw. The writing was so bad! *LOL*
I forgot about the mole vs vole thing. *LOL*
Irish: so few grow old gracefully. *LOL* Annette Benning is probably it, and she's just gorgeous. She's a nice example but hardly one most of us can live up to. We'd all love to grow old gracefully if we're going to look that good...
I agree: adolescence has enough on its plate without adding glittery hoohas to the mix.
It doesn't help when *some* men get to a certain age--and look hot as George Clooney (I mean WHY is it men always look better when they get older but not women? Hmm?)--and are dating women in their 20s? I mean, what could the 20-something possibly have to say? I assure you I've conversed with many 20-somethings and most do not have anything to say...
No offense to the 20-somethings on this blog--I'm ranting about an Oprah blog I saw yesterday where one of the advice givers was a 20-something and I swear to God everything she had to say was WRONG.
Thanks for allowing me to start another day lol, Hellion. :)
I'm sure that I remember someone passing around a book of photographs of vaginas at a meeting back in the days when we were having our consciousness raised. The "snowflake law" was one of the purposes of the display and the discussion. And both were part of the whole owning-our-bodies thing. It's been a while, and I did't look at the book page-by-page, but I'm pretty sure there were no glittery hoohahs. (I'm absolutely certain I would have been banished from the group if I had said "hoohah.")
On a more serious note, I see the rejuvenation trend is just one more way to avoid the realities of aging. As a culture, we are terrified of age and do our best to defeat it. Some may see the battle as valiant, but most of us are realists enough to know that finally it is futile.
That's "didn't look." Oh, for an editing function!
Hellion - you are so right, many things that are glossed over for fantasy sake. :) I was just saying the glitter hooha seems to avoid the cheating one. You're right, no one dies and betrayals are all fixed up by the end (usually).
If Cinderella had a glittery hooha, Prince Charming would just find it a challenge to find another and compare... If he is going to cheat, he is going to cheat. Glittery hooha or not. Same with her... Even if his magic wand banishes all doubt.
Hey, I've been with one man all my life, my first and only...and there is no glittery hooha. There's just keeping your word and working it out.
I think Q is right. When me mate and I met, it was the eyes and the hair...and we were in high school!
I would love to read a book where the man isn't of gigantic proportions and she is thrilled about it...
Wondrous blog today, nothing like staring at the words glittery hooha and trying to figure out what we're celebrating... Sounded like a parade float, or a new drink the bartender is pushing...
Then, I got it.
Irish said:
All I know is that I took vows… in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better or for worse till death do us part. There was no mention of… until my hoohah gave out… or until he lost all of his hair… or until it took him more than a twinkle in my eyes and a breeze to get him standing at attention!
Now Irish, therein lies the fallacy. A man can adore you without standing to attention!
Check out his eyes next time.....no secrets there. :wink:
Janga, you are too pessimistic I think. I for one appreciate a more mature outlook on life. We can't let these youngsters have it all their own way! And I haven't even seen your eyes!
2nd Chance said:
I think Q is right. When me mate and I met, it was the eyes and the hair…and we were in high school!
Thank you 2nd Chance. The trick is to find the right person in the first place. The eyes and hair then seal the bond! :D
I haven't figured what a glittery hooha is yet. And I don't dare to ask Mrs Q! *g*
You're welcome, Q. Me mom remembers how I said, "He has the darkest eyes." She knew I was a goner right there.
I like the idea of a glittery hooha being a mixed drink...what would it contain? Baileys? Kahlua? :)
And pair it with a magic wand...hmmmm...
Q, my friend, I adore you, but honestly I am not a pessimist. I'm really a glass half-full person. However, it seems absurd to me to spend $7000 or more in an attempt to defeat time. I like Victor Hugo's words: "Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age." But I don't think Hugo had rejuvenation surgery in mind.
I prefer to spend $$$ on those things that rejuvenate the mind and the spirit. Spending profligately in those ways not only brings me joy but offers me some hope of a kind of immortality in that they allow me to touch the lives of others.
Janga - that had to be the wisest thing I've heard in a while. :)
Janga: glad it brought you a giggle. I think as a culture we are terrified of getting older, growing older, LOOKING older (except for George Clooney, of course, who only looks better as he ages. Damnit.) Of course, I don't think it's because any of us would necessarily want to live our teens or 20s over again. I think we just want those bodies back--with all that we know now. *LOL* It's an unfortunate truth that to gain something in one area (wisdom, truth), you usually sacrifice something to gain it (hair, dewy youthful skin).
But it is better to spend your money on things that will matter most in the end. You have a better chance for immortality by touching people than by spending all your time 24/7 making sure you're wrinkle free.
But it's not even all about age. Age is the obvious one. But what about being someone else entirely? (Michael Jackson comes to mind.) The need we feel we must be someone else other than ourselves to please someone. We need bigger boobs (or perkier boobs) and tighter behinds, more hair on our heads, less hair everywhere else...I mean in my youth-youth, I certainly didn't have bigger boobs or a tighter behind. I've always looked about what I look like, but I've always wished I looked a little more like...oh, Kate Winslet or Scarlett Johnansen.
2nd Chance: Glittery Hooha does sound like a drink doesn't it? I could use a drink about now. *frowning at empty rum bottle*
I do laugh at the emphasis that the guy is more endowed than anyone else...I find this esp funny in historicals where the girl is a virgin and who could she possibly be comparing it to? If that's the first one you ever saw, wouldn't you think that's how they all look?
If the book I'm reading it doesn't mention "endowment" with any particular emphasis, I rejoice that I'm reading the rare book that the hero is of average proportions and is still a very capable, wonderful lover. *LOL*
The Glittery Hooha... A tropical blend of several rums, pinapple juice (with pinapple spear to represent the magic wand, of course). Along with lots of shaved ice, some of that red stuff they put in drinks... (I'm obviously not a mixologist!) ...
But it sounds good to me!
I do have to say...I've considered cosmetic assistance. But not for my hooha, who the mister appreciates just as is. (Imagine that visit to the plastic surgeon...instead of showing noses or enhanced boobs... "Here's my portfolio of hoohas... Pick one you like..."
Oh, Gods! Where is the rum?
I think my next hero will be a bit smaller than average, but makes up for it with an energetic imagination...
Grenadine is the red stuff they put in drinks.
*pauses*
You know, you might think I was an alocholic, wouldn't you?
Actually can you imagine being the surgeon for that job? You know the saying if you pick a job you love you never have to work a day in your life, and I have to wonder, surgeons usually become surgeons because they had some desire for it somewhere...and then...well, down the road, what puts you in that particular field, the prettifying of hoohas?
Dear Janga,
I know from your many posts that you are essentially an optimist.
You are of course right to say that the battle against ageing is futile. I just don't see it as a battle. More a natural progression which can be enjoyed as much as the earlier phase of life.
I don't condone cosmetic surgery either, but attendance at 'beauty salons' can be enjoyable and keep you looking good.....or so Mrs Q tells me as I pay the bills!
Hellion, thanks for the bottle.....you read me like a book! *g*
Jaunts to the Beauty Salon are cheaper forms of therapy. I say this because I went to a therapist for two years. It was very beneficial; however, I go and get my hair styled by this very lovely woman who charges about a third of the cost of a therapist, gives just as much validation and lovely advice as my therapist, and lets me leave her office looking a hell of a lot better than how I entered. When I left the therapist's office, I'd often be in tears (which while therapeutic, weren't great for my face), sniffling, and with crap hair.
Let's just say, between the two, I feel a lot better about my stylist's form of therapy. When you look prettier, you just feel better. It may not last, but what does? It's the same as when you do dishes and see an empty sink. (*snortal at thought of Hellion ever doing dishes*) Well, so I've been told. Tomorrow there will be new dishes...but for the moment, it's great. I prefer to get my hair done than do dishes.
Your Mrs. Q is a very smart woman.
Ohh Q! So sorry that you are under the weather. Perhaps this next sentence will make you feel better? Quantum, You are Absolutely RIGHT! Right about how dangerous The Eyes can be. Especially when there is intelligence and humor shining from them… I fell for my husbands eyes. I still “fall” for his eyes.
Yes.
Its so pathetic how easily I am amused….
I have one thing to say about vaginal rejuvenation. Not bloody-well-likely. If my significant other dared to request one I’d coo “Sure baby …. After you get your circumcision reversed.”
But really? Why would my dearest want to mess with perfection, hmm? (I am referring to myself, of course). Ok, maybe I’m not perfectly Perfect. But I AM perfectly comfortable with that. Which makes my lover, aka my DH, perfectly comfortable with me. See how that works? I value myself. So others value me too. And I don’t tolerate people who don’t Value me.
So as far as my husband is concerned my hooha is glittery.
A glittery, solid 24 carat Gold.
The Lucky Man.
My favorite line to my DH when we are having a fight is “Do I looook like I have to put up with that behavior?”
No. I don’t. I don’t, because I value myself.
And it shows. In my stance. In my demeanor. In MY Eyes.
We’re back to the eyes ,Q.
The line Works every time. And I don’t care what you look like. Just trust me on this … You can pull this line off as long as you: believe it, have dangerous passionate fire burning in you eyes, and you make your voice sound like smoky whiskey.
Or scotch…. Or tequila…. Doesn’t matter… as long as you make him feel the ‘burn’. Like he just had a shot of Very Fine liquor.
You are Very Fine liquo.
Or
if you prefer
you are a Glittery 24k HH!
Either way? He's lucky to have you!
Wenches! I always miss out on the bestest convos! Glittery hoohas and Jules talking about 24k HH's and chocolate. So does that mean there needs to be a glittery 24k chocolate hooha?
Sin - I vote for the chocolate glittery cock instead. ;)
I can't believe I missed this. *sigh* What a great conversation. For the record, I wouldn't let anyone near my hooha with anything sharp. Wait, that did happen when I gave birth.
Okay, outside of giving birth, ain't nobody getting near my lass with a scalpal!
I'm going to make a sign that says, "I have a 24K Glittery HooHa" and post it on my mirror. LMAO!!
Thanks Julie!
Jules wins the day with that argument. If you act like you have a 24K glittery hooha, everyone will believe it. Thank you, Jules! I plan to twitch my 24K hooha all weekend... *LOL*
Hey
Who says that I’m ACTING?!!
LOL
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