Remember #JurassicZoo? You should. It was great.
There's nothing harder than getting 3 Quokkas to cooperate! #JurassicZoo #ZoorassicWorld http://t.co/9sZfuMIBRu pic.twitter.com/RgqKlWTVT0
— Taronga Zoo (@tarongazoo) June 18, 2015
Basically, real zookeepers approached their animal charges with the same mystical posture as Chris Pratt used towards raptors in Jurassic World. Man, was I mega-jealous of these zookeepers. I am always pretty jealous of zookeepers, because that childhood dream of being a "zoologist" will never die, no matter how apparent it is that you hate statistical research and animal poop. But the meme above really pushed things over the edge.
Not only were the images of people taming wild creatures with nothing but a power stance very funny, it appeals to me as someone who has trouble dealing with all sorts of stuff. Decisions, conflict, expectations of others, WHAT TO WEAR. How awesome would it be if we could de-escalate our confusion and difficulties by holding up our hands in surrender/purposeful dominance?
So, I faced one of the things that makes me feel the most insecure: femininity.
Are these dresses appropriate for blogging????
Buying new clothes is like going to the dentist for me. I only do it when there are holes. I'm not girly; department stores make me lose my sh*t like a toddler who needs a nap. I stomp, whine and complain about being hungry. But with the newfound inspiration of dinosaurs and the Internet, I approached the process with strength! Power! And jazz hands! Also, my co-worker Bez took pics.
Mannequins, my natural enemy, subdued:
Their tiny waists can't stand against me.
Purses: are they an external vagina?
All I carry is a wallet!!!! I can't do this!!
These are too fancy to go UNDER your clothes, ok?
And where are the bottoms?!
The primitive test for "status" is scent...
...and I didn't pass the smell check.
Prepare your feet for battle, lady warriors.
Just ask Bryce Dallas Howard how important it is to wear running shoes.
First thing that comes up is the heels.
Starting to feel comfortable enough to face off against the Patriarchy:
Or a bunch of fake d*cks.
Finally, my mortal enemy, who I wish to make my friend: make-up.
No "no make-up selfies" for dis b*tch.
There ya go, everyone. If something in your life throws you, just "Jurassic World it." It was a rough journey, and while I haven't helicoptered off my island of sweatpants and sneakers, I did manage to buy one new shirt that isn't gray.
I also learned my mom is right. I should brush my hair.