Oh blog, you are my wings, and you, readers are the wind beneath!

I was tempted to craft a love letter to my blog. To apologize for my absence,

to remind that despite my neglectful behaviour, communication is my life...
Today is the day that I am going to swap my epic blog hiatus, with everyday epic blogging.

Dreams of T-Rex

I had a dream that I wrote a screenplay about Marc Bolan's life. It's possible that my cable-free oscar night inspired this. Regardless, Johnny Depp played Bolan and it was fantastic.

Next stop: Saint Awesome blogstown

Blogging.

A friend and I were talking blogs last night, and we both agreed that while the practice is completely self-indulgent, it is still totally awesome. However, today I took this to a whole new level, and pretty much memorized Blogger's Help section in the process. My blog now has a selection of published work that I have written during the past few years.

To ensure that I do not forget how to communicate with other human beings in a  somewhat rational and articulate manner, I'm cutting myself off. Regular blogging starts first thing tomorrow!


In the meantime, read this.

Are we not past "she asked for it?"

A convicted rapist will walk in Manitoba, because according to the judge the woman in question invited sexual attention, based on the way she was dressed. According to this judge, a woman can avoid being raped by wearing a bra, less makeup, and more clothes. Oh, and don't give the impression that you're interested in "partying," either, because apparently that is synonymous with providing consent. 

Read the full article here . Notice how the judge calls the rapist a "clumsy Don Juan." Does that explain the scar on the woman's knee, or her fear of leaving her home?

Trims anyone?

The running theme in conversations this week, has been haircuts. Let it be known, that I love them. Not just getting haircuts, but also when other people get them. This has been the cause for plenty of awkward moments, considering thatI live in a pretty small community, and have no sense of the kind of stranger's etiquette that others seem to be privy to.
I am totally that girl you don't know, who noticed you got your bangs trimmed, and told you they look great.
Creepy, right?

 A few nights ago, my mom, brother, and I, were talking about how protective parents are over their kid's hair. Until high school, it was completely common for girls' hair to be under the complete control of her parental units...I remember this one girl in particular, whose hair actually went past her hips. Can you guess who was called first for lice checks?

My sister and I were complete exceptions, with our matching bobs 'n bangs. My brother was not so lucky, he had to sport a flat top until he could speak, which possibly explains why he became so articulate at such a young age.

And so, the week of hair continues with Justin Bieber: performer, patriot, teen idol, and political commentator. Apparently he made headlines this week for chopping off his sweeping bang, in attempts to "give something back."  Bieber said, "I wanted to do something good. I'm giving pieces of it to different people. We're doing something special."
We are doing something special? Who is he referring to, him and his hair?

Questions aside, Ellen DeGeneres received a box of it, and will auction it off for charity.

Behind every successful woman... is a lazy dude?

The "good man" has died.
 
According to The Wall Street Journal, while women are out earning degrees, and working their way up the corporate latter, men are prioritizing buddies over babies, and disrupting the logical order our lives are supposed to follow. Men, the article says, have traded in their former dreams of fatherhood and mortgages for video games, dependency, and friends, living in a permanent state of "pre-adulthood." The poster boy for the modern Neverland man, is Seth Rogan's character from the film Knocked Up( he's the one that saves his bong before his pregnant girlfriend during a fire).

Women are labeled, in this article, as the first sex, as opposed to their "traditional" place as the second. Interesting, considering that in that last I checked women made seventy cents for every dollar a man brought home. 

Totally not an expert on masculinity, or the recent debate on how 'we are failing our boys,' but is it possible that men and women, or simply people in general are changing. If there are so many women prioritizing their careers and leading financially independent lives, is it possible that they have different priorities then women in previous generations? 

Backseat and other names

Lately, among twenty-something relatives and friends the main topic of conversation is baby names.
These people, whom I love to pieces, have named all of their unborn children, and share the names with warning in their eyes, suspect that the listener may be secretly plotting their first pregnancy and listening to the possibilities only to file them away for future use. The twenty something who finds themselves in this conversation, and is nowhere near welcoming babies into her life (me) is listening intently, but behind the smile and good intentions, can't help but think--
IT'S A FUCKING NAME.
Does it really matter if your bosses daughter's step cousin beat you to birthing a daughter and calling her Lola. Seriously.
Now, I've heard the line, "what's in a name," but now I actually understand that picking a name, is a very painful process. Absolute fear of picking the wrong name, or worse a plain bad one, has kept me from writing a blog for months.
Finally I threw caution to the wind, and googled 'name my blog."
It suggested a massive brainstorm, to rhyme your name with other words, to smash different words together, to think of where you spend all your time.
Since nothing rhymes with Kristan,  the rest is history.
 The title has something to do with being in a backseat, which for those who know me makes perfect sense, since it is the place where I spend a lot of my time.
The actual definition of 'backseat,' calls it a position of inferiority. Please. When does the driver of a car get to puppy watch, or frantically change radio channels? does the driver get to eat cupcakes while on the road? No,  but I do. Because I am always in the backseat...passenger side, if you want to get technical.

Check back for general pop culture ramblings, interesting tidbits of news, and sometimes self indulgent chatter.