Feminist Quote of the Day

"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman."
~Anaïs Nin


Hot. Seriously Hot.

Yo betches. I know it's been a while, and that's just how I roll. But there are some updates and thangs you should know about!

I'm contributing to a review site called Hot Ink. You should come give us a visit, and stay a while.

Also, this blog will continue to be my personal betching site, but if you have a mind for more intellectual conversations about everything WOMAN, then you can check out my shiny new website, girlnamedboo.com. I have recruited some amazing women, ages 16 to 55, to contribute to the conversations. Please, give a look, but be nice because it is not officially launched. It is what we call soft launched, like Uncle Joe's erection after a night of heavy whiskey love.

That's all for now! Ta ta, everyones.



Name the Only American Minority Group that Actually Constitutes the Majority of the Population!


LOVE me some Beyonce, but YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES ALLLLL over this. NineteenPercent: be my besty.

h/t Mary!


Operation: Combating Bitterness

Today's exercise for combating bitterness is: making up new insults. Just off the top of my head:

slut trumpet
bone slapper
poo poo platter
shit munch
ass flap
carnie licker
scrum pickle

Childish? Yes. Time wasting? Absolutely. Giggle inducing? Eh. But at least it helps get my mind off things.


Iron Heart

What is it that makes it possible for people to open their heart, again and again, in spite of experiencing heartbreak and pain? When we are small, we learn that hot things will burn, and for the most part, we avoid hot things that can burn us. Why is it that we can remember physical pain--pain that resides primarily in the body--and not remember emotional pain?

I have tried so hard to not let myself shut down; over and over, I have allowed people into my life that ultimately prove they don't have my best interests at heart. And no matter how much you keep those people at a distance, they always end up hurting you.

My heart is screaming out today. I'm just a complete wreck, and I promised myself, over and over, that I wouldn't let myself go here ever again.




As I said before: UM.

Well, that's...interesting.


My New Favorite Thing

Three beautiful words:
Top. Butt. Cleavage.


A Hatbox

A hatbox can be perfect
A study in design, form
and, lastly, function

Just a 3/4 thought

Just 3/4 in to a bottle of wine
I'm fine
I'm fine
And I'll know more about it
in the morning

Just 3/4 in to a life of time
I'm fine
I'm fine
And I'll know more about it
in the mourning

The Blogging Conundrum

When I first started this blog, it was totally anonymous. No one knew who Girl Named Boo was. I slowly began introducing my "real life" friends to the blog, and even when I knew my real life people were reading, I still felt a sense of anonymity.

But now, I've basically come out of the blog closet. Boo has always been my nickname (since I was a little baby Boo), but I find random Boo occurrences now.

For instance:

Walking to get a quick lunch last week, someone driving by me in a car yelled out "Hey Boo!" I was so shocked I almost fell on the ice that covers our city sidewalks. Still don't know who that was, but it was totally strange.

For another instance:

On my "real name" facebook page, I get a lot of "Boo," rather than Kara. That, I like. It feels natural to me.

For more instance:

What is really weird to me, though, is when one of my friends passes on a message from someone I've never met, saying, "So and so saw blahblahblah on your blog/twitter/fb, and says somethingsomething."

Conclusion: I would be a terrible celebrity.


Self-Protection Mode: People Pleaser/Hand Biter

I've come to discover two things about how I interact with people; two extremes that I sometimes find myself operating from. They both come from the same source, the same motivation—self-protection—but come out in very different forms.

People Pleaser
One side of this dichotomy is the people pleaser. People Pleaser came to life when I was a child, coping with what it meant for my parents to be divorced. I wanted their love and was terrified that because, in my child's mind, they didn't love each other anymore, then they could possibly stop loving me, too. Thus, as I moved between the worlds of "Mom" and "Dad" as separate entities, my People Pleaser emerged. People Pleaser tells each parent what they want to hear in order to maintain that parent's love. This, of course, bled into other relationships in my life, and for much of my childhood and early teen years, I was a consummate People Pleaser.

Hand Biter
But alas, one side of the coin cannot exist without the other, and thus, as I hit puberty and started to understand the strength of saying no, pushing back, and other forms of rebellion, Hand Biter took a stand. Hand Biter is another self-protector, and in my case, formed out of the frustration of being a People Pleaser and still being hurt by those that I loved. Hand Biter has a sharp tongue, and strikes before she can be struck. Hand Biter has the perfect biting thing to say, and says it without thought to anything but protecting onesself. Hand Biter is the exact opposite of People Pleaser.

As an adult, People Pleaser and Hand Biter are still with me. They have grown and developed as I have, and they are as much a part of me as my hand or my fingerprint. They have their own scars, and they make appearances when I am feeling vulnerable or distrustful. I have come to understand that, even through understanding these sides of myself, it doesn't mean these pieces of me will ever go away. Nor, I think, would I want them to. They represent the Amazon Woman parts of me: The self-preserving part of me. The part of me that will survive in the face of whatever happens, and I welcome that strength. But I am trying to learn how to call on these protectors only when I need them.