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So while Elliot is making out with Kate (and turning her into a useless lump of “compliancy”), Christian then turns to Ana and tucks some hair behind her ear and keeps touching her face/lips and then he says “Laters, baby,” because apparently that’s how guys say goodbye to girls they like, and us girls are just supposed to melt and go all stupid because of it, even though that is the STUPIDEST PHRASE EVER, but whatever.
Kate and Ana head back into the apartment after walking the men-folk outside, and Kate asks if Ana and Christian had sex.
“No,” I snap irritably, hoping that will halt the questions. We head back into the apartment. “You obviously did, though.” I can’t contain my envy. Kate always manages to ensnare men. She is irresistible, beautiful, sexy, funny, forward…all the things that I’m not.
I understand how Ana feels, as I’ve been the President of Body-Image Issues since 1999, and I get that she thinks she’s ugly and clumsy and useless…but Ana manages to ensnare men all the time? So that line is kind of…annoying. Apparently Ana is just oblivious to the fact that EVERY SINGLE GUY SHE’S EVER MET is in love with her. “Man, no boys like me! EXCUSE ME WHILE I WADE THROUGH THIS PILE OF MEN THAT I HAVE TURNED DOWN IN JUST THE PAST 2 WEEKS.”
And besides, Ana never wanted to “ensnare” men? She keeps saying that Christian is the first guy she’s wanted, Christian is the first guy that’s made her feel this way…so why is she so envious of the fact that Kate gets all the man-folk, if she, Ana, never wanted them in the first place?
Idk. I guess I just don’t understand Ana.
Kate and Ana continue to talk about the whole Christian situation (Kate notices Ana’s new shirt, but isn’t creeped out by it, because apparently her Creep-Radar isn’t working because of Elliot), and Ana tells her that they kissed and even though Kate OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T LIKE CHRISTIAN, once Ana tells her that they’re going to Seattle tonight, Kate is all OH EM GEE WE NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE SUPER SEXY TO GET HIM TO SLEEP WITH YOU!
And then Kate decides to give Ana a make-over before work, which doesn’t make any sense. Or at least I think it’s a make-over…
“I have to be at work in an hour.”
“I can work with that time-frame. Come on.” Kate grabs my hand and takes me into her bedroom.
And then Ana goes to work.
Under Kate’s tireless and frankly intrusive instruction, my legs and underarms are shaved to perfection, my eyebrows plucked, and I am buffed all over. It has been a most unpleasant experience. But she assures me that this is what men expect these days.
WHO GIVES A FUCK WHAT MEN EXPECT. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SHAVE YOUR LEGS, DON’T SHAVE YOUR LEGS. WHO GIVES TWO SHITS IN SPACE ABOUT YOUR BODY HAIR.
If you don’t like to shave your legs, and your dude has a problem with that, that is stupid and he is a hypocritical asshole probably, unless he shaves his legs too, which is fine, but still, he can’t tell you what to do with your body. If you DO like to shave your legs, great! If you don’t, ALSO great!
Ugh. This book is really dumb about body image issues and body positivity.
Do what y’alls want to do. If a person really likes you, they’ll like you regardless of the presence/absence of hair on various parts of your body. What a ridiculous standard.
Kate still doesn’t trust Christian apparently, even though she’s all in favor of prepping Ana for the slaughter, and makes Ana promise to text her when they get to Seattle that night.
We also find out that apparently José keeps trying to contact Ana, but Ana isn’t talking to him, which is good and he deserves that. But instead of Ana being like “No, José, I’m not talking to you because you tried to sexually assault me in the parking lot while I was extremely drunk. Please stop contacting me until I tell you it’s okay to do so.” Ana is just avoiding the issue and having Kate tell José that Ana is mysteriously “busy.”
Ana apparently is incapable of telling people how she feels about things, and instead just avoids the subject. That’s good.
Tonight’s the night! After all this time, am I ready for this? My inner goddess glares at me, tapping her small foot impatiently.
WHY ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE SIZE OF HER IMAGINARY FRIEND’S FOOT.
THIS WHOLE BOOK IS STUPID. KILL ME.