Blond

Cynthia Hilts, a competent and underrated pianist, composer, and singer, associates creativity with a predisposition for musical activism, in her latest album Lyric Fury, released on her own label, Blond Coyote. The album title is also the name of the eight-piece jazz ensemble she leads, which comprises multifaceted musicians such as trumpeter Jack Walrath, saxophonists Lily White (who also produces) and Lisa Parrott, trombonist Deborah Weisz, cellist Marika Hughes, bassist Ratzo Harris, and drummer

There are many stereotypes in our world, and we often can find them in the form of what is called “blond jokes”. It is a well-known fact that these “jokes” ridicule and stereotype all blond haired people. Though some people find them hysterical, blonde jokes are actually very damaging to the well-being of blonds all over the world.These jokes often portray blondes as being dim-witted, and they display them as being sexually promiscuous. People often view “blonde jokes” as being very sexist because

mother, tightly holding arms with her husband. Her blond curls rolled down to the middle of her back, and once you looked into her eyes you couldn’t look away because you would see an entirely different world within. They had two little boys. The youngest, Oliver, had the same blond hair as his mom and would never leave her side because he was awfully shy of the wandering people passing him. William, being the complete opposite, also had the same blond hair as his mother, but had deep brown eyes drunk

similarities that had my sister and I could be mistaken for twins, but we often acted very different. I could not fathom at the time how my sister and I could in any way be similar, due to the differences in our personalities. Sure, we looked alike, blond hair, and blue eyes like our dad. We were tall and both active. We resembled each other, certainly, but to our eyes we couldn't be more different. My sister enjoyed teasing me and being annoying, working me into a rage, while I enjoyed being silent

of the popular group, and I enjoyed the company of plebeians. These were some of the things different between us that I remember of that time. There were physical similarities and my sister and I could be mistaken for twins.. Sure, we looked alike, blond hair, and blue eyes like our dad. We were tall and both active. We resembled each other, certainly, but in my mind, until we met the stranger and uttered a few words that changed my outlook, we could not be more different. The “moment that changed

pre-Aryan inhabitant of Italian soil, who was through color most clearly distinguished from the blond, that is, Aryan, race of conquerors who had come to power...fin...the word characterizing the nobility which ultimately meant the good, the noble, the pure, but originally the blond-headed, in contrast to the swarthy, dark-haired original inhabitants. The Celts, incidentally, were a thoroughly blond race..." (16). This can easily be misinterpreted as blonde equals good and dark equals bad.

than that. A piece of plastic that little girls all over the world wish they could be. Even though, it is only a piece of plastic to adults that Barbie significantly means nothing to them. Growing up, I owned a couple of Barbie dolls. The tall, long blond hair, blue-eyed doll was my best friend and my “role model”. I wanted to become exactly like Barbie. As a child, I thought only beautiful people who looked liked Barbie signified beauty. To my little to no knowledge, I soon came to find out no one

and a short outburst of laughter. I got up ears hot with shame. I collected the books closest me. A blonde surfer looking boy helped me collect the ones that skid away. Everyone looked away. I wasn’t entertaining anymore. Irritated, I avoided the blond kid’s eyes as he handed me my books. A second boy appeared with dark curly hair and chiseled features, eyes wide with apologetic worry. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.” He placed his hand on my back his eyes looking at me closely. “Its fine

Where Did She Go? The main character in the short story "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?," written by Joyce Carol Oates, is a fifteen-year-old girl named Connie. Joyce Carol Oates gives this character a confused sense between being two different people. She is nice girl at home and sexually appealing girl when out with friends. Connie is pretty, insecure, attention seeking, lonely, and childlike. Connie's insecurities make her easily manipulated. Why does Connie leave with Arnold Friend

sensuous. An advertisement for the clothing store The Gap contained a highly attractive female. She had shoulder length hair blond hair and light blue eyes. She was sitting down with her legs crossed, dressed in a tight white shirt and a tight pair of blue jeans. Her smile was ear to ear and pearly white. In this ad the female was portrayed as the ideal beautiful woman, with blond hair blue eyes and a slender body. These two advertisements are advertisements for “glamorous” items. In each of the advertisements