Thursday, January 26, 2012

In which I try to convince myself that I will never be a CFWG..

If this is a CFWG, I kind of want to be it. (It's a .GIF! Click on it. Source.)

In which I am obsessed with the "Carefree White Girl" blog. In which I sit on the couch and eat Cheez-Its. In which I ponder which tires to purchase for my car. In which I use the phrase "in which" too much, but I love it.

In which I love everything about this photo.

Source.


In which I try to decide whether it upsets me that my ass will NEVER LOOK LIKE THIS NEVER.

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In which I decide it looks much more like this pin-up blonde's ass as she climbs into a truck, and am mostly content.

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(In which I worry that members of my family will frown at my use of the word "ass," but I hate the word "butt" and "tush" sounds silly.)

In which Clara Bow is adorable and looks like Miss Pillsbury (yes, from "Glee," ugh, I know).

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This morning I had my car serviced (there is no way I cannot snicker when I say that, proving that I am still not a grown-up) and my father and I went to breakfast and discussed model trains and eco-friendly mortuaries. I told him that I would sprinkle his ashes wherever he wished, if he really wanted me to, and he reminded me that it really upset me when I was little to think that I would have no gravestone to visit in the event of his cremation.

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Now quite the opposite upsets me. I hate the ecological (and economical) impact of graves (though I love graves dating from the Victorian era and before--they are so pretty and so good for photo shoots and DAMMIT I'M A CFWG).

In which these Carefree White Girls are actually Carefree White Women of a Certain Age Who Still Manage to Have Cheeky Fun. Does that make it better?

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