December 22, 2004

Time Magazine and Blogs

Blogs are definitly gaining popularity. When I opened my latest issue of Time Magazine and saw an article called "Blogs Have Their Day" I was a little surprised. Time Magazine doing blogs?

I read on, enjoying the fact that I, unlike many readers, actually know and use a blog. Before taking a class dealing with blogging, I would have just looked at the pictures, read the caption, and skipped over the actual article. Yet now, I'm an informed reader!

The article deals with the blog PowerLine and its impact on the "60 Minutes" scandal. Before they get all political though, the article talks about the wonders of the blog. Blogs are called "news Jetsons-style" for their ease of use and short amount of time needed to read one.

The end of the article reminded me of some of the articles I had read earlier about blogs being a new form of journalism. While Time doesn't doubt the blog's impact, it doesn't think that they can change the world. "Blogs are just too different, too weird, to become wholly mainstream. For starters, they're too cheap, too easy and too loud" states the article. Ah, another blogging conflict.

In the article there was also a text box called "10 Things We Learned About Blogs". I felt so smart reading it! It mentioned fake blogs, women bloggers and the fact that anyone can blog. Finally, what we've known for ages now is just making it into the "big" magazines.

Posted by VanessaKolberg at 10:58 PM | Comments (1)

A Day in the Life

Guys, you have it easy. Girls- we take forever to get ready, do our hair, and look nice. But guys can just brush their hair (maybe) and go. I was thinking about this the other day and wrote a story so guys can see what we really go through.

Disclaimer: Ok, this is supposed to be funny and sarcastic. It is shallow and vain and I know it is. It does not represent all girls. I was stereotypying, taking creative liberties, whatever. So don't leave comments about how untrue it is. Just shut up and read.


You wake up at quarter till twelve and the first thought you have is, “I wonder if that zit on my nose is gone yet? That new cream was damn expensive, so it should have worked.” You touch your nose and feel that the blemish is significantly reduced. Good. You’d hate to have a zit for one of those last-minute Christmas parties. Sure, you haven’t actually been invited yet, but you’re sure that someone will call. Plus, it never hurts to be prepared.

You lazily get out of bed and stop to look at yourself in the mirror. God, it’s a good thing none of your friends can see you like this. You are always so polished, so put together. If anyone saw your puffy eyes, pillow-marked face, rumpled clothes and crazy hair they wouldn’t believe it.

Next you make your way into the kitchen for, considering the time, lunch. What you would really like are some pancakes and eggs but it takes too much time and you are far too lazy. Plus way too much fat. You still want to fit into that hot dress you bought on sale at Kaufman’s, don’t you? Sure, you didn’t really need another little black dress, but it was too good to pass up. Besides, it’ll be nice to wear to those Christmas parties. Where are all those invitations? Your friends are so scatter-brained they’ll just call. Yes, that must be it.

After lounging around eating Special K cereal and watching yet another clip show on VH1 (that channel is like the Devil- it just sucks you in and you find yourself watching it for hours) you realize you have absolutely nothing to do today. Nada. It’s winter break, so there is no work. Basically your biggest concern is which trashy chick-lit novel you’re going to read next. Well, ok, there are some things you should be doing actually. You should be doing laundry, picking out a gift for your uncle and making out the last of your “heartfelt” Christmas cards. Yet you aren’t motivated to do any of it. It can wait.

What you are motivated to do however is take a bath. One of those nice long ones where you use every one of your beauty products. You grab a book off your self (doesn’t matter which one, they are all basically the same anyway) and head in. First you apply a thick facemask. It dries white and makes you look like a Kabuki but it doesn’t matter since no one will see you anyway. Next you start the water and add a few of the 500 bath products you’ve accumulated. Bubble bath, crystals and a bath ball. The winter weather has wreaked havoc on your skin and these products will make it smooth and soft again. Or at least that’s what the package says.

You get in and think, “Ah, baths are so lovely.” You could spend hours there and in fact, you do. Three hours later the bubbles are gone, the water’s cold, and you are halfway through the book (the heroine has fallen in love two times already and you can anticipate three more before it’s over). Most people would call three hours in a bath a waste of time, but not you. You were multitasking really. You were enriching your mind, softening your skin, and helping your complexion all at the same time. Before you get up you decide to exfoliate using your fancy new body scrub. Apparently it’s very important to get off all those dead skin cells and, as Cosmo says, “keep skin soft and radiant”. Radiant is good.

You get your shower, wash off your face mask, put on a hair treatment and get out. You comb your hair and start adding a plethora of products. It’s amazing how much crap you need just to make your hair look “natural”. Gel, mousse, volumizer. Next the face. Toner, lotion, moisturizer. Someone better be appreciating all this work. They you apply a thick layer of body lotion. You must have at least twenty, each touting a different promise. One would work just fine, but you keep amassing more and more like magic.

After getting out you notice how hungry you suddenly are. The Special K just didn’t cut it. You should eat something healthy like yogurt but Grandma’s cake is calling your name. One little piece won’t hurt. You end up eating three while watching another VH1 show. But you are PMSing, so at least you have and excuse. Good thing there isn’t chocolate in the house.

Then you remember you need to whiten your teeth. You totally bought into the commercial about the importance of having a white smile for the holidays. Yet the desire to whiten isn’t completely the result of sly advertising. You didn’t endure braces for six years to have a yellowed (but incredibly straight) smile. Plus, the strips prevent you from eating any more cake.

Strips on, you eagerly apply lip balm since your lips always dry out when whitening. It’s new and sort of burns a little after you put it on. This means that it’s working or that you are allergic to it. Either way, it makes your mouth soft. Who knows, there might be some mistletoe at that elusive Christmas party.

The phone rings. You jump up and answer it, thinking it’s someone mildly interesting. Of course, it isn’t. It is just Anna asking you if you want to do some last minute shopping with her. You say yes because, well, what else do you have to do? Besides, you are all clean and polished. You agree to meet her at the mall in forty-five minutes. Wait, forty-five minutes? Can you get ready that fast?

You run into your room and start getting ready. You open up your closet and drawers and spend ten minutes agonizing on what to wear. Does it even really matter? Your top will be covered by a jacket anyway.

After choosing the perfect shirt that no one will ever see you apply makeup. Foundation, powder, blush, eye shadow, highlighter, lipstick. Is that all necessary? It’s just Anna. Oh, but you never know who you’ll meet at the mall. Maybe some guy home on break too…wow, you really need to stop reading those novels. Yet even if you don’t meet the love of your life in Gap, you still want to look nice in general. Make good impressions. And girls dress up for friends just as much as for guys. You need to keep appearances up- always.

Makeup done, jewelry on, hair poofed, white strips out you are ready to go. You quickly spray yourself with your favorite perfume. It smells amazing and at $60 a bottle, it should. It is called Temptress but the only thing you ever tempted with it were bees at your graduation party in the summer. All that work- just for a mall trip? Sure, why not? It’s just a typical routine, nothing special. “Wow,” you think as your turn on the car, “guys have it so easy. Shower, clothes, and go. Heck, the outfit doesn’t even have to match. They don’t care as much, do they?”

Posted by VanessaKolberg at 4:30 PM | Comments (6)