I don’t read magazines, except for InTouch Weekly if I’m feeling depressed or I’m flying somewhere. Because nothing takes my mind off of my troubles, or the fact that a possibly drunk pilot is schlepping me through a thunderstorm in a tin can at 35,000 feet, like learning what music Jessica Simpson’s cat likes. But, back in August, a friend brought me about fifteen magazines as a housewarming gift. Since then, they have gathered dust next to my bed because I have no time to read them.
But this morning, my eight year old brought me breakfast in bed! I had nothing to do but laze around enjoying a PopTart and a thimble-size cup of milk, so I reached for a Cosmopolitan. I hadn’t read Cosmo since I was a freshman in college and wanted to know how to make a Valentine’s Day planter for my “guy” out of candy hearts and his jock strap.
I quickly discovered I am officially old, and Cosmo has no relevance to my life whatsoever. This became devastatingly clear to me after skimming articles such as:
Five Fun Ways to Baby Your Butt. I have real babies to baby. I can’t imagine having the time to call a friend and lament, “I’m concerned about my tush. She just seems so over-wrought these days.”
Cosmo says that in order to “spoil my bum” and “de-stress my derriere,” I should give it a “facial,” which just seems confusing. That's not a facial at all. The "facial" should consist of exfoliant, a face mask, and coffee. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to drink the coffee to pass the time while you wait for the ass-mask to harden, or if you’re supposed to splash a Dunkaccino on your buttocks in order to wash off the mask.
After face-masking my rear, I should use a sponge paintbrush, like those found at hardware stores,* lift my leg up onto the bathtub so that my “butt-cheek crease is taut,”** and apply self-tanner with wide-circular strokes. The article does not qualify this by saying you should only do it if the rest of you is tan. Apparently, having only your ass be tan, in a primal bull’s-eye fashion not unlike an in-heat baboon, is appropriate.
The article goes on to warn me not to put the self-tanner in the crack “because the skin inside your crack is thinner.” That’s why I shouldn’t stick self-tanner in my ass-crack? That’s why???
His Manbag Decoded. At first I almost slammed the magazine shut, thinking Cosmo was going to read men’s scrotums like tea leaves. Then I realized they were talking about a real bag; like a man-purse. For example, a man who carries a messenger bag is “gutsy” and “dependable.” A man who carries a backpack “doesn’t exactly beg for you to slip your lacy undies in the pocket as a sexy surprise.” Which begs the question: what kind of man-purse does make one want to stick her panties in the pocket as a sexy surprise? A bedazzled clutch?
Is it Okay to Take Time Off from Your Husband? This one made me laugh so hard that I spewed PopTart across my bedspread. In this article, a woman goes away with her girlfriends and feels guilty that she enjoyed talking with them about face cream so much. She consults with a psychologist about how to break it to her husband that she likes to go out by herself sometimes. How in the world can she tell him this without hurting his feelings? The psychologist says to gently explain that “recharging her batteries” makes her a better wife. Given that this is Cosmo, I’m assuming they mean literally recharging her batteries. But I digress.
I’ll bet this article was ghost-written by a single woman, because any married woman knows that there are few things a husband enjoys more than when you go the hell away so they can watch sports in peace. Unless you go the hell away and leave all the children home with him during March Madness basketball. They do not like that.
Why He Loves When You Bite Your Lip. Biting your lower lip brings out his inner cave man! When your lips redden, you look fertile and guys want to impregnate you! After three rounds of drug-free childbirth, the last thing I need is to accidentally get impregnated by a cave man if I happen bit my lip while confusedly figuring out the tip on my dinner bill. I went right to the drug store and bought white lipstick.
Advice: I’ve been with a few guys who keep their eyes closed the entire time we have sex. Are they thinking about other women or what? Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.
Oh, wait… Cosmo’s verdict is “probably not.” Way to unconvincingly spare the ego, Cosmo. Then again, Cosmo may be right. He may not thinking of other girls. He may just be happily picturing your shiny, caffeinated, tan, baboon-ass.
*the article really says “hardware store.” I did not make that up.
**this article assumes that one’s butt cheeks are at all capable of getting “taut”; yet another reason why I am too old for this magazine.
Moms, do you read Cosmo?