Tuesday, November 17, 2009

A Day in the Strife

I am sick. I hate this. However, being sick gives me the time to blog a bit. Oddly, being sick also tames some of the hate. I'm a nicer person when I'm sick. It's weird, but true.

Then I turned on the TV. As much as illness tames the fire of loathing, daytime TV fans the flames. So here I am, watching TV and drinking TheraFlu. Forgive me if this gets too Paula Abdul.

Lakeside Behavioral Health runs ads for counseling during The Price is Right. There is something to be said for knowing your audience. Of course the ads are targeted at people who need therapy "after work hours". So, fail. ::Click::

How is Rachel Ray not attacked every time she opens her mouth? She just used the words 'shingle' and 'banana' in the same sentence. Also she used her voice. Words also used today: crusty, shingled (yes, again), Mr.Bear's belly, burger vessel, nubbers. I must be losing the will to live as I haven't changed the channel. Does she know this show is supposed to make people want to eat? I want to strangle her. ::Click::

E! News is proof humans are inherently bad. I don't know half of the people they are talking about and don't care about the other half. Except the Gosselins. Those guys are both complete douches. The E! News reporter just said 'nip slip'. ::Click::

If you are on a televised judge show, you have already lost. At life. ::Click::

Wayne Brady is hosting Let's Make A Deal. He hates his life almost as much as I hate his life. I wanted to rail on about what a fucking loser he is, but he knows already. You can see it in his sad, broken eyes. But I watched the show for 10 minutes. What does that say about me? ::Click::

Shhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Ellen is on.

I fell asleep for a few and awoke just long enough to ignore Dr. Phil.
Now I'm off to chug a lug a mug of TheraFlu. Yummy.

I may have to watch the Discovery Channel the rest of the night to cleanse my brain. Or the Travel Channel. I hear Andrew Zimmern is going to eat a whole pig brain in Ghana. That will be the most appetizing thing I've seen all day.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Why Can't We Be Friends?

People like me. I make a great first impression. I like people. But only superficially. I may have fun hanging out at a party, but I do not want to catch a cup of coffee with you later.
And that's great. I have plenty of friends. More than I care to bother with most days. But you may want to be friends with me and I get that. I am pretty spectacular. So let's set some ground rules with this simple quiz. Please be as honest as you can and maybe, just maybe this will work out.

Do you like dogs?
Do you like music?
Do you enjoy judging other people with standards too strict for anyone to live up to?
Can you knit? Well?
Can you bake? Well? For others?
Can you take a freakin' joke?
Do you give to charity?

If you answered no to more than half of these questions, well, I'm just not that into you.

If you have answered yes to more than half of these questions, you are well on your way to beginning to find out if we can be friends! Please move on to the next section.

Can you name more than 3 cast members from Big Brother?
Is Mayonnaise your favorite food?
Do you refer to your significant other as "hubby/wifey", "daddy/mother" or "my love"?
Are you a practicing witch?
Is 'chillaxin' a word one should use?
Do you think television is beneath you?
Do you strongly believe in a multiverse theory for quantum mechanics?
Do you purchase People, Us Weekly, Star or InTouch magazine on a regular basis?
Have you read all the Harry Potter Books?

If you answer yes to more than 3 of these questions, go home. It will never work out between us. I'll still talk to you at parties and acknowledge you when we run into each other at a restaurant, but WE will never be.

If you answered yes to less than three, you've got a fightin' chance at being my friend. Please move on to the last section.

Do you own a Hummer?
Do you think being gay is a choice?
Do you like to sing aloud for other people when not in a performance setting?
Is Fox News your main source of news?
Have you purchased a book written by Ann Coulter or Bill O'Rielly (not as a gag gift)?
Are you a jerk to servers?
Do you go on and on about your kids all the damn time?
Have you ever compared someone to Hitler and meant it? (other than someone who actually looks like Hitler)
Do you read TMZ?
Have you ever brought your own food or beverage to a restaurant instead of ordering?
Are you Taylor Swift?
Are you a close friend or fan of Taylor Swift?
Do you listen to Taylor Swift?
Do you think voting is a waste of time?
Have you, as an adult without children, attended a midnight release of a Harry Potter book in costume?
Do you bitch incessantly about Memphis?
Would you do a reality show with your kids?
Do you insist on bringing deviled eggs to parties, even if I ask you nicely not to?

If you answered yes to ANY of these questions, GO AWAY. I don't want to know you, see you or share air with you.
That's just how is goes.

If you answered no to these questions, we should get dinner sometime. But not alone, with a group, just in case you're really boring or dumb or hard to look at. It may not be much, but it's a start.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Cozumel Cruise - The lost Tweets

Day one - All Aboard

Our cabin steward says to call her "Sparky". I will call her "Twitchy" to myself.

Muhammad and his wife have just beaten us in a Mind Bender game. It is on. Jihad!

Ice Cream!

This ship is like Vegas without all the strippers. Or the desperation.

First show of the cruise - "Welcome Aboard" I found the strippers and the desperation.

The dining room is gorgeous. Our table is great, if you like surly teenagers.

Ice Cream!

Day Two - Ah! The Sea.

Judging by the attendance at the "Friends of Dorothy" meet-up, they include 3 middle aged men and the drunken sales team from a healthcare company.

This is the most bitter piano bar I have ever been in. Tom hates his life. He may stab Dorothy's friends.

Ice Cream!

Show 2. There is a talking couch. For real, yo.

White boy in white suit sings 'Minnie the Moocher'. It is even whiter than you think.

Ever wonder what happened to the kids who were REALLY into Show Choir? Found 'em.

Look! Ice Cream!

Day Three - Hola, Cozumel.

We have welcomed ashore by a traditional Mexican cochina. ------------> They call it Fat Tuesdays. How quaint!

We are 2 feet from the sun, but apparently in the cheap overpriced fake Mexican stuff you don't need capital of the world.

Aqua Fresca is awesome! But probably because it is mainly fruit and sugar not so much water and fresh.

Babies riding on motorbikes without helmets. Way to go Mexico.

Cozumel's main exports? Pottery and distain for Americans.

The sand on this beach is made of shards of glass and razors.

I think our cabbie is conspiring to have us killed.

Ooo! Ice Cream!

Day Four - Back to the Sea!

Bingo, bitches. 3 card bingo.

Muhammad's wife just won a jewelry giveaway. I may toss her overboard.

Word Jumble competition? That's why we cruise.

I like that some things are universal. I hate that one of those things is stupid drunk girls singing "Strawberry Wine" at karaoke.

Casino Win!

Ugh. Ice cream.

Beatles Tribute Show. On a cruise ship. By extra white cruise performers and literal song reenactments. Yes, please.

Day 5

"Please prepare to get off the boat."

"You do know you have to get off the boat, right?"

"Get off our boat! Now!"

"No, Seriously. GET OFF THE BOAT."

Tuesday, September 8, 2009


Music is my life. Or at least a big chunk of it. I listen to music. I sing and play. I used to write and perform. Like most failed musicians, I work in music now. Also, like most failed musicians, I'm pretty sure I know enough about music to expertly critique it.

I am a bit of a music snob, but not in the usual way. I like all genres and listen to just about everything. The trick is to judge that thing on it's own merit. Brittany Spears can never compete with Bizet. She probably couldn't even pronounce Bizet. But she is good at what she does. Or, at least, she used to be.

All this leads to my love/hate affair with 96.1 The Pig FM in Memphis. They play a huge variety of music, pretty much everything except rap and classical. If they did, they would be the Best. Station. Ever.

I don't always like the songs they play, but there is so much variety, it is worth waiting it out for 2 minutes. That being said, I have come to some conclusions through my recent listening.

1. I don't like Jimmy Buffett, but now at least I get it. He is a jingle singer. He writes really simple, catchy songs that are easy to sing along with when your are drunk. There is plenty of room for audience participation. And that is what most people want, to feel like they are part of something. No matter how absolutely inane and trite it is. And it is.

2. The Cars v. Rick Springfield. In case you have never heard them back to back, don't. I adore The Cars and think they are highly underrated. As much as I loathe Springfield, I was able to at least accept him as a product of his time. However, recently I heard The Cars' "My Best Friend's Girl" followed by "Jesse's Girl". I now know that Rick listened to that song and completely ripped it off. Rick Springfield. You are dead to me, sir.

3. Fuck folk singers. We as Americans have taken too much crap from folk singers. I am sick of us wading through so many Peter, Paul and Marys in the hopes of finding a Bob Dylan. Puff the Magic Dragon is dumb. The fact that it is considered a FOLK classic, not a children's classic just proves that Americans can't be trusted.

4. As much as I hate to admit it, there are some Dave Matthews songs that I think I might like, if only Dave Matthews didn't sing them. However, I have learned that the only thing worse that a DMB song, is one performed live. He sounds like a cross between Carol Channing and the creepy old pedophile from The Family Guy.

5. Everyone fails. Even The Beatles recorded crap music. (Thanks a lot, Ringo.) But that doesn't mean we have to listen to it. Can we all agree that just because Ray Stevens was popular for 20 minutes in the 70's doesn't mean we ever have to acknowledge his music or existence again? Can we also agree that if Ray Charles records the amazing definitive version of 'What I Say' that I never have to hear Jerry Lee sing it? Let Jerry Lee be good at being Jerry Lee. Stop fucking up R&B classics and go drink something. I'm willing to let him coast on 'Great Balls of Fire' forever.

6. Let's be done with the Doors already. Seriously. Listen to the Doors live and you will notice that even the audience is sick of them. Jim has to yell at them to listen. Let's just admit we all got high and got tricked into believing this stuff was deep and move on. No shame. No blame. Just move on.

7. Most parody songs sucks. Especially 'political' satire songs. You know it. I know it. Quit encouraging them.

8. The Tina Turner recording of Fool in Love feature Ike Turner and The Ikettes is one of the greatest songs ever put on vinyl. Prove me wrong.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Hell is (for) Children

We had our nephew and niece over for a visit last night. I think kids are fabulous. They are spectacular, but I am occasionally reminded there are a lot of things that we the childless take for granted. Minor joys, but joys none the less.

1. Eating. The kids ate half my dinner and all my breakfast. From 3 in the afternoon till noon the next day, they had a bag of grapes, 2 cups of broccoli, 1/2 a cookie sheet of cheese nachos, 100 cal pack of cheez-its, 2 slices of toast with jam, 1/2 a papaya, an omelet, 3 doughnuts, a cup of mixed fruit, 3 glasses of milk, 3 glasses of juice and an apple. On the upside, everything I put on my plate they ate. Children are instant portion control.

2. Sleeping. Kids don't sleep and really don't care if you sleep. These kids were no sleep, non-stop, no naps till 11:30. Up at 6 a.m. And not up at 6 a.m. like I am - half awake and groggy, stumbling and drowsy. But full force up. And forget going back to sleep. Quiet for kids is just under 6oo decibels.

3. Breathing. I found myself breathing shallow trying to avoid whatever germ it is that makes that boy's noise run non-freaking-stop. I don't consider myself a germ-a-phob, but if there will be a global pandemic it will be carried by the sticky, filthy hands of a 3 year old.

I'm not saying kids aren't full of limitless joy, but today, I will eat, sleep and breath what, when and how I want. Oh, and I'm gonna go pee right now, without being interrupted. Suck on that, moms.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Wax Off

Not everyone can be lucky enough to know me. Though tales of the wonder and glory of my Brazilian waxes are told near and far, what good is that to you?

You are not alone. Many of my clients are students, who, much like baby birds, must leave the comfort of the nest and move on. However, they become frantic when faced with the task of finding a new esthetician. I cannot possibly know the best waxers in every city.  But hopefully with these helpful hints, you can find the waxer you’ve been dreaming of. 

  1. Ask friends and coworkers. If you see an eyebrow you like, ask where they got it done. When the girls at the water cooler start gabbing about their bikini wax, ask who they use. This assumes you know people in the new city, but if not, make friends. I believe in you. You are wonderful and likeable.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to you.
  2. Consult on online source. While Anti-frump will meet most of your needs, we do not yet have a service index. Go on. Go to citysearch.com, we won’t be mad, I promise. But just looking at the rating is no good. Read the reviews. People love to be brutally honest on anonymous message boards.
  3. Call the salon or spa. After reading the reviews or talking to friends, call the place you are considering. Talk to the esthetician or set up a consultation. Think of it as a first date. So don’t go all the way yet. Get to know each other first.
  4. For Brazilian waxing, ask a few specifics.
    1. What kind of wax do you use? We like hard wax. It is gentle, clean, and most effective. Strip wax is great for fine hairs on the leg and arm, but it is icky and painful. It can kiss our ass, not wax it.
    2. Do you wax labia? We are all grow-ups here. We want a waxer who is not afraid to talk about, or wax, our lady bits. “Lady bits” and “Va-jay-jay” are acceptable..
    3. What kind of waxes do you offer? Brazilian can mean so many things. So can “landing strip”. Ask what areas are included in each service. Be clear about what you do and do not want waxed. Not everyone wants to look like a 12 year old. Some of us believe a little patch at the top is like showing I.D.  We are also thankful when it is a natural looking strip, not the angry Hitler moustache.
    4. How do you wax?  These will seem like simple questions, but they are very important, and should be answered quickly and easily by your esthetician. If the answer to any of these is no, run for the hills.

                                               i.      Do you use gloves? YES!!

                                             ii.     Do you tweeze stray hairs? Yes! You do not want to look like you have the mange.

                                            iii.     Do you use new sheets and towels for every client? YES, YES, YES!!

                                            iv.     Do you sanitize your tweezers after every client? Yes! 30 minutes in 90% alcohol is good, but autoclave is great too.

                                              v.     Do you use disposable waxing sticks? Seriously, YES!

                                            vi.     Are you licensed? YES! Every state has different requirements, but they are important. You can check with your state beauty board and find out if your girl (or guy) is the trained professional you are looking for. She should also have a license hung in her room or on her badge. Do not settle. Your nail tech should remove calluses, not hair.

We are picky about who waxes our lady bits, as we should be. Do not be afraid to shop around. Test by getting a bikini wax before going all out on the Brazilian. Or get an eyebrow first. Many times you just have to find someone you are comfortable with. That is okay. Be vigilant and do not settle for second best. You are worth it. Your lady bits are worth it.

Friday, August 14, 2009

In Your Face

Some people think facials are unnecessary and indulgent. These are not people we talk to. They are silly people who probably think going to a dentist is overrated. We are smarter than that.  We know that while we must take care of our skin at home, sometimes we need outside help. 

Facials do many things.  A facial can cleanse, exfoliate, repair, hydrate, calm, and teach you canasta. Just making sure you are paying attention. A trained esthetician will analyze your skin and discuss your habits at home. Together you will determine your goals for your skin. 

A standard facial can include any of the following:

1.     Cleansing. If this is not the first step, be concerned. It doesn’t have to be fancy, but your face has to be clean for step 2.

2.     Analysis.  Your facialist is looking for discoloration, sun damage, loss of elasticity, fine lines, moles, blackheads, and Jimmy Hoffa.

3.     Steam. After step 2, it is a free for all, but I like to steam. This allows the skin to relax and make exfoliation easier. Also you can pretend you are in Memphis in August. Close your eyes, and you’d swear you were there.

4.     Massage. Mmmmmmm. Nice. Sure it helps exfoliate, move lymph, and stimulate collagen production. But so what? Massage is awesome.

5.     Exfoliation. Some use a brush, some a scrub, some a peel. They all do the same thing in different ways. For reference, peels vary slightly. Glycolic is the most common peel. A 30-40% strength is plenty. It can be left on the skin for 2-5 minutes, sometimes with steam. Lactic acid is preferred for rosacea and sensitive skin. Light or no exfoliation is recommended for heavy acne and rosacea. See how smart I can be.

6.     Extractions. Holy Blackhead, Batman! This is not for the faint-hearted. Bite the bullet and do it. You will never know a joy greater than the catharsis of blackhead removal.

7.     Treatment. Here we do intense moisture, acne masks, peels, collagen, elastin, and DNA treatments, etc. Your esthetician may use freeze-dried masks or plant derived ampules. Thank her and tip well. Also do not be afraid of the electricity. Galvanic current is common. It is very low grade (1/1000 of an amp) and is helpful in deep penetration of product. Also if you have acne, ask about zapping. High frequency electrical current can zap problem areas before they become problems. Let us stop and give thanks for zapping.

8.     Moisture. Even if you are oily, you need moisture. This is for everyone, no exceptions.

Don’t you want a facial now? All the cool kids are doing it. Go get one ASAP. Unless you are getting married this week. There is always a chance of a breakout the day or two after a facial. I do not want an angry bride on my lawn, screaming that I ruined her wedding pics. The Hollywood secret is to get your facial the day of the event. The micro swelling caused by a facial gives you the glow we all aspire to. Also your makeup will wear better.

I recommend facials every one to four weeks if you have specific goals to meet. For maintenance, every one to four months should suffice. Either way, get a facial now. You deserve to be pampered. You deserve to have the healthiest skin possible. You deserve to have the most beautiful skin you can. Your face is the first thing people see (usually), treat it well. 

Friday, August 7, 2009

Hair's Looking at You, Kid

Salon Etiquette 101 or Avoiding The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

This may ruffle some feathers, but it is for your own good. This is really a primer course, but soon, my little chicks, you’ll be ready for advanced lessons. So take notes and be prepared to ask questions. Your beauty future depends on it.

  1. Show up. When you make an appointment, go to it. Seems simple, but often isn’t. If you cannot make it, call. ASAP. Our time is our money, please remember that. But don’t make up an elaborate story. Even if your aunt really did accidentally drop your appointment reminder card in the fish tank and a tetra ate it, we do not believe you or care.
  2. Show up on time. Again, simple enough. Fifteen minutes is not big to you, but it will put the rest of my day into chaos. Being chronically late, even if it is only 5 minutes, will make us dislike you. If you are excessively early however, you also cannot get mad if we are on time, not early. Our salon, our rules. Nanny nanny boo boo.
  3. Shut up and pay. Seems harsh to put it that way, I know. But look, if you walked into the salon and you knew the pricing to begin with, don’t whine to your stylist or esthetician about how expensive they are. Most likely they didn’t set the prices, and they cannot change them. If you are concerned about pricing, discuss it beforehand with the stylist, receptionist, esthetician, etc. No one will be upset if you want up front pricing. But once you agree, do not bitch about how much you are paying. This is not an auction, it is a salon. See rule 6.
  4. No kids. Unless they are getting a hair cut, leave them at home. Really. We don’t think they are cute or funny or smart or sassy or anything else. We think are going to fall or break something. We think they should shut up and sit down. We cannot think about you and your hair. When you bring a child to a salon, we rush your services so you will leave. It ain’t fair, but neither is life.
  5. No cell phones. Not in the lobby, as we shouldn’t have to wait for you to hang up to begin your appointment. Not while you get shampooed, as it is in the way. Not in the chair, as it is in the way and you should be talking to the stylist/esthetician. Not under the dryer, as you are loud, and no one cares that your best friend’s boyfriend is cheating on her with your sister’s boss. If you use a cell phone while you are getting a service from another human being, you are RUDE and we will say nasty things behind your back and to other clients. Sorry, but it is a salon and we are catty. If you need to make a call while you are waiting, step outside.
  6. Kiss our ass. Tip well. Be nice. If you are the first morning appointment, bring coffee. Compliment us. Tell us we are worth every penny. You will get better service. You will get better pricing. You will get better appointments. You will get better shampoo massage and facial massage. You will get a free pass on breaking one of the other rules time to time. Make us like you and we will make you prettier than all the other girls.

I know it seems harsh, but it is only because I care about you and I don’t want anyone to talk bad about you. And they will. A lot. Far worse than you ever dreamed. We are vile vile people when pushed. But we also talk about our favorite clients and how much we love them. We work them in for last minute appointments. We sneak in discounts. We pamper them. Be our favorite. Make it worth our time, and we will make it worth your time.

Friday, July 31, 2009

What’s scrub got to do, got to do with it?

There are two types of people in the world: those who don’t exfoliate, and those who over exfoliate. Both should keep reading and we will sort this all out. I’ll try not to rub you the wrong way. Ha! Get it?! Rub?! Wow. There’s more where that came from.

My Chemical Romance

Most people think of gritty scrubs to exfoliate. You may not realize it, but more commonly, people use a chemical to exfoliate. If you use an “anti-aging” product, it probably has AHAs.  AHAs, or Alpha Hydroxy Acids, are rapid exfoliates. The strengths vary, but most damage superficial layers of skin, forcing it to renew itself more quickly. AHAs can be used in anti-aging, anti-acne, and smoothing products. Glycolic acid is my favorite. It is an AHA with a molecular structure small enough to penetrate the skin, and therefore repair it from the bottom up. Who doesn’t like bottoms up?

AHAs are not for everybody. If you tan, have rosacea, broken capillaries, acne, or other conditions, consult with you esthetician or dermatologist. Also, if you are using skin care products with chemical exfoliates like AHAs, be careful about layering these. You want your results to be more Nicole Kidman and less Batman villain. Make sure you wear an SPF at all times and evaluate your skin’s health and appearance monthly.

 A Convenient Smooth

If you prefer a good old-fashioned rub down, which scrub you chose is important. Not important enough to get Al Gore involved, but still, something worth thinking through. Choose smaller grit for face and slightly larger for body. I recommend body exfoliation daily, but face scrubs only once or twice a week. Be careful with sugar scrubs for body, which can cause issues with your lady bits. Ewww.

For body.

Sally Hansen Pedicure In A Minute. The creamy base helps smooth and hydrate. I alternate this with a pumice stone. NO RAZORS PLEASE! When getting a pedicure, or doing your own, avoid the callous shaver. It is dangerous and icky and in the long run it will only make you calluses worse.

St Tropez Body Polisher. I love love love love this scrub scrub scrub! It can smooth anything! Use before self-tanning to ensure even application and lasting results. It is also great for butt bumps. Don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.

 For Face

Clinique 7 Day Scrub Cream. Suitable for all skin types, this scrub is gentle and effective. Just remember to be gentle. Pretend you are washing a baby, not a skillet.

Baking Soda. I love this for very oily, clogged skin. Mix 1/4 teaspoon with 1-2 pumps of liquid facial cleanser. Apply gently to a very wet face. Scrub softly for 10-15 seconds and splash off. Moisturize immediately and thoroughly afterwards. This can be drying for some skin types, so do a test patch. I would recommend using this no more than 1-2 times a month. Please use a clean box, not your fridge box. Your facial products shouldn’t smell like ham.


DERMAdoctor KP Duty. Great for Keratosis Pilaris (KP) or “chicken skin”. My mom called them “sun bumps”. I call them “ those-hideous-disgusting-things-growing-on-my-upper-arms-making-me-feel-awful-about-tank-tops”. Po-tat-o, pot-a-to. KP Duty has glycolic acid and is a gentle chemical exfoliant and moisturizer in one.

Exfoliation is like ice cream. It should be indulgent and soothing and in moderation. It is however, not edible. Usually. We will cover that at a later date. 

Friday, July 24, 2009

The Sun Also Fries Us

Picture it. You, a reasonably sane person, are talking to me, your esthetician, about you skin. Smart move. You express concern about some wrinkles popping up around your eyes, general discoloration in your skin, and that dryness that has been bugging you. I, being a trained and educated professional, have a very simple answer. Stop tanning. That’s when you show signs of what must be heat stroke.

“But, I’m only getting a base tan.”

“I only tan in beds, not outside.”

“All the celebrities are doing it.”

“I need the Vitamin D.”

“Tan fat looks better than pale fat.”

“I’ll stop tanning when I’m older.”

I try to be patient, but enough is enough.

There is no such thing as a base tan. A steak cooked in the oven will still burn on the grill.

Tanning beds are just as bad as outdoor tans. And don’t believe that junk about beds where you can’t burn. While UVA rays are less likely to cause burning than UVB rays, they are suspected to have links to malignant melanoma and immune system damage. Also, they make you look older, faster. So there.

The stars do not actually tan. Usually. The smart ones use fake tan and bronzers. Besides, some stars drink and drive, and then break their probation, so get some better role models already.

Now you are trying to make me angry. Unless you are a vampire who only eats junk food, you get enough Vitamin D. If you have a health concern, go to a doctor, not the tanorexic teenager at the Tan-N-Go. Seriously.

Fat is fat. Tan or pale you take up the same amount of room. Trust me, I know.

The incidence of two types of skin cancer has nearly tripled among women under age 40. But, you could wait till you get cancer to stop. I’m sure that make sense somewhere.

Now that we are on the same page, and you have come to your senses. Let’s talk product.

Sunscreen is easy. Sunscreens' active ingredients do one of two things: Chemical screens like octisalate (which blocks UVB) and avobenzone, aka Parsol 1789 (which blocks UVA), absorb UV rays; physical blocks like zinc oxide and titanium dioxide reflect sunlight altogether. I prefer a physical block for sensitive skin. SPF 15 to 20 is great for the face. SPF 20-45 for the body. Apply 20 minutes before going out, and reapply every hour. SPF 15 everyday, no matter what.

So, now what? Well, lets get that sunscreen we talked about. I love Aveeno Continuous Protection SPF30 and Aveeno Baby SPF 55. But anything non-greasy and oil-free is swell. If you can get sweat-proof, do it. You will thank me later.

When you want a tan and you want it now, St. Tropez Whipped Bronze instant self-tanning mousse is what you need. Streakless, instant color dries in just 60 seconds for a perfect tan anytime, anywhere. Its self-adjusting mousse is oil free and complements any skin tone, while the tan deepens over 3 hours - all without the damaging effects of the sun. Also their Body Polisher is divine and will help your new tan last longer. Try a gradual tan lotion like Neutrogena Build A Tan to maintain your color. Shave, scrub, and tan. Move on with life. No more excuses.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Miss Me?

Hi kids! I have been so busy at work, I have neglected to rant in a timely fashion. Since things are looking like they are not slowing down, a solution had to be found. That solution? Previously written material.

I was an esthetician in another incarnation. And a damn good one. However, I decided the Arts were more important than your skin care and hair removal needs. But I am not heartless. 

Over the next 6 weeks or so, I will be presenting a series or hilarious and informative articles I wrote during that time. Hope that entertain and inform you. Or at least keep you busy till I get back.



I just got home from our new cosmetic superstore at the mall. Wow. Love it now as always, but let’s have a quick talk about how to behave in the cosmetics department.

  1. Stop putting your finger in everything. Use a spatula for creams, and q-tips or brushes for all else. I mean really.
  2. Stop putting everything on your face that everyone else has put their finger in. Is it really worth it? Icky icky icky. Buy the sample size.
  3. Stop letting your kids and teenagers put their fingers in everything. Double icky icky icky.
  4. Seriously, smack your kid about the head until they realize how miserable they are making those poor sales clerk’s lives. All they wanted was to work in beauty, and your insane wanna-be punk 14yr old is smearing blue cream shadow across her boyfriend’s face (and every surface in a 4 foot radius). It’s not worth $10.50 an hour to deal with that. Also it just pisses me off. Your kid is being a jerk. I am, in fairness, old and grumpy. But in this case, I am also right.

That is all on that. 

Moving on.

Skin care - Myth busting edition.

1.     Hemorrhoid cream doesn’t get rid of under eye bags. It actually will make them worse in the long run. It pulls the skin too taut and dries it out. This breaks down collagen and makes your bags worse. So there. 

Rule of thumb: don’t put anything on your face that you put on your butt.

2.     Petroleum Jelly is not a moisturizer. I promise. It can help to hold moisture, but it cannot penetrate the skin and moisturize.  However, if you need another reason, the butt rule applies.

3.     Chapstick is not a moisturizer. See #2.

4.     Toner is not cleanser. Rubbing alcohol is not toner. Rubbing alcohol is not drinking alcohol. Fresca is alcohol free and refreshing.

5.     You will not scrub your acne away. Or sun damage. No matter what scrub you use or how hard you use it. Soothe acne, don’t punish it. Less tough, more love.

6.     All natural is not always better. Arsenic is all-natural, so is poison ivy. I’ll take my chances with titanium dioxide thank you very much. Also, apricot pits are the worst part of the fruit; stop rubbing them all over your face. The acids in the apricot fruit are better at exfoliating anyway.

I do what I can to educate, but often crazy and habit team up and win. No doubt we will revisit this. Stay vigilant.


Thursday, July 9, 2009

Tiny Rant

3 small observations for the week.

1. HBO and Showtime.
Enough already with the sex scenes. With the utter failure of network television to produce anything watchable, (other than Law and Order and SYTYCD, of course) cable networks decided to get it right. Deadwood, Big Love, Weeds, The Tudors and others are outstanding programs. Spectacular writing and acting. I only have one minor complaint. The sex. I know it sounds old-fashioned. But do I have to see Bill Paxton's ass EVERY episode? And I get it, Henry the 8th liked to bang chicks. Seriously. Of course, when a network airs a great show like "Kings", it gets cancelled. Probably because the average person demands more ass than acting.

2. Time.
You have time. Stop whining that you do not have enough time. You do. I have plenty of time to go to the gym. I prefer to spend that time sleeping or reading or doing most anything else. You have time to cook dinner for real. (www.eatthistonight.blogspot.com) You have time to talk on the phone (and not in your car). Saying "I don't have time to ___" is just saying "I don't give a crap about ____" That's fine. Just say "I prefer beekeeping to TV". Quit acting like you are busier than everyone else. We've all got shit to do. I work full time (and then some), knit, play games, cook dinners, pack lunches, craft, spend time with friends, make bread, shop and many other things and guess what? I still have time to watch SYTYCD. Because it is just that damn important to me.

3. Coffee.
I used to be grumpy about fancy coffees. I used to complain about paying for frou frou drinks with soy milk and whipped cream. I used to act superior for drinking a plain old cup of joe. Then I had a fancy coffee. I have cultivated my palate to appreciate all the finer points of a $5 beverage. I now proudly order the ventiskinnyicedsoymochafrappenowhipdoubleshot in one breath with my head held high. Say what you will. Coffee is good, mochas are badass.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

It's Like Rain On Your Wedding Gay

There has been a lot of talk lately about how Gay Marriage threatens the sanctity of marriage. I don't claim to understand it. The only way I think my marriage could be threatened by gay marriage is if my husband and I were forced to dance at one. I hate to be put on the spot and my husband CAN NOT dance. There would be trouble. 

I have also heard that Gay Marriage threatens our children, values, religion, and way of life. I got to thinking and maybe "the straights" have a point. If we allow Gay Marriage, worlds will collapse. Life as we know it would crumble.

Fat Chicks. Fat chicks are a stable of gay culture. Straight fat chicks and gay men have formed bonds stronger than most marriages. They date, dance, confide in each other. They help each other forget the cruelty of a world that has left both of them single. If we allow Gay Marriage, fat chicks will be forced to solve their self-esteem issues and have intimate relationships with straight men. Even worse than that, they will be forced to serve as bridesmaids twice as often. The indignities will never end. The era of the "Fag Hag" will be all but lost. 

Weddings. Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan a wedding? Getting the venue you want, the caterer, the band. Now image fighting for your date with another bride AND a gay groom. There is no way you would win. All the best florists are gay. Guess who'll get preferential treatment. And wedding planners? Please. Who will have time for some homely straight girl who wants a princess wedding for 200. The planner would drop you mid-vows for a gay Carnival-style wedding with 500 guests, 3 ice sculptures and the 2007 Las Vegas Champion Cher Impersonator. Suddenly the decorator won't even be able to pretend your pink and green  polka-dot wedding theme doesn't make him nauseous. The very heteros who fought for the sanctity of marriage will be forced to have their weddings in the churches because the Opera House and Botanic Gardens will be booked. Imagine.

The Economy. Legal Gay Marriage would make it easier for homosexuals to form long term households. They would buy or build homes. They would decorate these homes and buy insurance for them. They would landscape and put in pools. With unemployment at its highest in decades, do you really think companies have the staff to handle the influx of business? No way. They would plan extravagant weddings. Do you think printers, musicians and tailors, etc are prepared for all the new wedding business? No. We cannot flood the economy will all this Gay Marriage money. 

Religion. Religion is often the biggest argument against Gay Marriage. It's a good thing marriage isn't a legal institution regulated by non-religious state and federal governments. It a shame the government forces churches to perform straight marriages even if the church does not endorse the union (doesn't it?) because surely it would force them to perform gay marriages that fell outside their doctrine. It's not like Gay Marriages could be officiated by judges, justices of the peace, or open minded clergy. Imagine if Christians had to take a long hard look at their beliefs and decided whether they were going to show God's love to everyone or not. Preposterous. 

When you look at the facts, it is hard to defend gay marriage. It just doesn't make sense. Unless, of course,  you are a reasonable person. 

Monday, May 18, 2009

There's No 'I' in 'Can't'

People often say to me "You are amazing! Is there anything you can't do?" Yes, and here is the list to prove it. 

I cannot make a meatloaf that is edible, much less tasty. Don't bother sending recipes. If the entirety of talent and experience on Food Network, Martha Stewart Living and Epicurious.com couldn't help me, neither can you.

I cannot apply basic fucking geometry. Seriously. The first time I measured for tile in my kitchen I had 2 boxes too few. The second time, 3 too many. They were one foot tiles. Damn. 

I cannot get all the way through Crime and Punishment. And I shouldn't have to.

I cannot hold a conversation over the phone. With anyone. If we are on the phone, I am probably alternating between knitting, playing computer games and wishing you would die. Also be guaranteed I have heard nothing you've said.

I cannot stop watching terrible crime procedural dramas. Shotty, predictable plots, gross out camera work, and terrible acting from David Caruso and Jeff Goldblum cannot stop me. CSI:Dayton starring Tom Arnold would probably make it to the top ten of my TiVo list.

I cannot keep a poker face. Really, if you think I am tough on paper, show me a picture of the make-up you want to wear for your wedding. My mouth may say 'oh, pretty', but my face will say 'you disgust me'. Nothing I can do about it.

It may not be much, but it's just enough to prove I'm human. Or close to it.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Just the facts, ma'am.

My dogs' happiness and well being are more important to me than yours.

No one thinks you are cool or clever when you quote lyrics as your Facebook status update.

Movies made about toys are stupid. Always. 

Your obsession with American Idol or Grey's Anatomy or whatever is just as dumb as my obsession with comics or sci-fi. Get over yourself. 

You cannot buy boobs and not fix your teeth, Jewel.

Seriously, "chillaxin'" is not a word. How many times do I have to tell you?

Community theatre may be great, but I will never willingly attend. Nothing personal, but I am not even a fan of professional plays and musicals.

Dogs doing "human" things are ALWAYS funny. Always.

I don't hate you just for owning a gas-guzzling SUV. I hate how shitty you are at driving and parking it too.

If you make the grocery give you a bag for an item that already has a built in handle (like a gallon of milk or laundry detergent) or for just one item, you are a dick. You should be bringing your own bags anyway, dummy.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Over the Thrill

We, as a culture, hold on to things for too long. We jump on the bandwagon and will ride it into the river given the chance. Before we all drown in Octo-mom frenzy, I give all of you permission to let the following things go.

MySpace - I am not impressed with your shitty band or the useless animated "thanks for the add" leprechaun. I would like to cyberstalk you in peace.

American Idol - I like the vapid, kinda gay one with the generic voice and sass.

Writing the word gourmet on stuff, even when it is not in fact gourmet. I'm talking to you Walgreen's Private Label "Gourmet" Root Beer

"Got -----" marketing campaigns. I saw this on a tow truck (got tow? - WHAT?) It is over.

"chillaxin". I call bullshit. This is not a word and it sounds stupid. Just as stupid as "chillin" did.

Unnecessary abbreviations to sound cool (ex. CNN Headline News is now HLN). While we are at it, you can all stop believing that CNN or HLN are real news. Robin Meade? Nancy Grace? Really?

Tolerating people who claim they "don't have time for TV". Bullshit. You just don't want to admit you watch it. BTW, watching it on DVD is still TV. And even if you don't watch, it doesn't make you a better person. It just make you boring and snotty.

"Funny" outgoing voicemail messages.

80's fashion. Just because the economy if giving us flashbacks doesn't mean we have to relive it. Let's learn from our mistakes people.

Using the phrase "Mother Earth". If you say this, I HATE YOU SO MUCH. Your mother is not Earth. Your mother is a chain smoking lunch lady with a bad perm and 2 ex husbands. The Earth is where you live, dumbass.

Fox "News". There is no point in reacting to or even acknowledging Rush Limbaugh, Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter, etc. If someone agrees with these people, there is nothing you can do for them. Logic is obviously not a priority.

Celebrity "baby bumps". Getting knocked up is not a skill or talent.

Anything Gwyneth Paltrow or Madonna says or does.

Trying to get me to watch Ugly Betty. I haven't and I won't. So shut up.

Susan Boyle. People like her the same way they like that pug dog that says "I love you". Sympathy and condescension don't sell albums. Britney in a bustier does. Facts are facts people.

Let the hate mail begin!

Saturday, April 11, 2009

The Douche Doesn't Fall Far From The Bag

Being the amazing aunt I am, I took my niece and nephew to an Easter Egg Hunt. I should get extra points for today. We show up, wait in line and finally get in. No big deal. Then we get the program. There are 90 eggs hidden in 64 acres and 300 people there to find them. Even if they follow the one egg per family rule, we are screwed. But in the spirit of good parenting, we push through. "Keep looking", I encourage them. "Maybe there is an egg in that tree." There are no eggs in any tree. Oh, well. Lying to kids seems to be a key tenant of parenting. "I bet there is an egg in that bush." After 2 gardens, a lake and a orchard, we give up.

We decide to try our luck at the age hunts. This where an area is roped off in a field and they just throw the eggs on the ground. We are waiting near the roped off area. There are eggs everywhere and parents are pushing and shoving their way to the front. They are calling other kids cheaters, because some toddler grabbed an egg near the rope. The kids are playing with rocks. The warm up act is a magician that has a "magic necklace" that is a long chain and a loop. He knots the chain around the loop and says "ta-da". Fuck you magic guy.

"Magic Necklace"-

I send the 9 yr old in with the young one to help him get eggs. People are pushing and grabbing. To her credit, she is quiet and polite and scores a full basket for her brother. The screaming rude guy next to me, his kids only got 2 eggs. We are winners.

We try to get water from 2 different fountains. They do not work. However, the nice lady in the box will sell us water for $5 a pop. Wheee. Then we open the eggs. No candy. Seriously. We have spent over an hour trying to get these damn eggs and there is no candy. Some have stickers. Most have coupons. Are you kidding me? Chick Fil-A Coupons. I hate everything. The kids are being good sports. I feel cheated. I was supposed to take them out, have fun and get them candy. Fail.

I tell you all of this, to tell you that the crowd was ripe. They were hot, tired, eggless, thirsty and broke. They had no candy. We get to the age 6-9 hunt. We are waiting at the ropes. By now, many of the total asshole parents are complaining loudly. We are being patient. Suddenly we hear someone yell "go!". The kids rush the field and start grabbing the eggs. But wait, it's 2:15. The hunt wasn't supposed to start til 2:30. And the little girl with the bullhorn didn't yell "go". Some guy did. I then realize that the guy who yelled it was just some parent. he is laughing. He is total douche. He, in his too-tight black tee and highlighted spiky hair, has ruined the hunt and thinks he is awesome. He walks around the crowd, laughing, explaining that he didn't hink the kids were dumb enough to fall for that. We hate him. (sidenote, I saw him earlier and his kid is an asshole too.)

- Not the actual guy, but real close.

I collect the kids and prepare to leave. Two ladies are walking towards the main entrance. They are screaming. They want their money back now. All $7.00 of it. Look, the hunt was a bust, but the gardens and face painting and play areas are worth $7.00 at least. So suck it up. But no, they are yelling loudly that this is a rip off and they need a manger now. They "did not pay $7.00 for this shit." No you didn't. You got in free. You were one person ahead of me in the entrance line.

Not the Actual ladies, but close.-

Suddenly this other nosy woman walks over and tells the ladies that she knows who did it. She offers to take the woman to the guy. Really. This stupid woman thinks it is a good idea to take 2 screaming disgruntled mothers to the man who ruined the Easter Egg hunt. It's like stupid travels in packs.

There is some yelling. The the blond jumps him. Flat out jumps him. She is punching him in the head. I hate violence, and I am not justifying anything, but this guy had it coming. Still a fist fight at an Easter Egg hunt? Come on. The staff pull the two apart. The best part? The freshly beat douche stands around trying to talk the people around him into understanding just how funny ruining the egg hunt was. Seriously.

I just can't wait to meet both their kids in few years.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Con Lair

I'm a nerd. It is a known and celebrated fact. But I like to think of myself as a certain class of nerd. Better than the average geek. I don't dress up like a furrie. I hate Star Trek. I don't own fangs or pointy ears. I'm not a level 6 elf in some online community, but some of my best friends are. Still, one thing I do love is a good Sci-Fi convention. "Con", as it is known, is the best. Everyone gets together to play games and trade comic books and buy goofy tee shirts. But the hardcore dress up. It is awesome. There can be some very cool and clever costumes, and done well, one can drink free based on that costume. However, I recently attended the Mid South Con. A very different breed of Con. This is my story.

This is a friend of mine who happened to be there. Battlestar Galactica fans will recognize the intricacies of this costume and appreciate the attention to detail.
Other than looking a bit butch, you could wear this out in the world and maybe pull it off. Maybe.

This however, is a totally new ball game. This is why I love con. A Hawaiian shirt AND a weird hood AND googles. Even I can't figure it out. He looks like Star Wars meets Weekend at Bernie's. Scary and stupid. I can't believe he was there alone.

The hawaiian shirt was popular. This guy paired it with 20 sided dice magnetically attached to his earring. I just don't know how much one guy can have stacked against him, but the limit is visible.

At least these guys dressed up. This is could the best or worst lounge act ever. I would probably go either way.

Where are all the ladies, you ask? (Other than my lovely friend at the top of the page) Well, here's one.
And here are her friends.
Words escape me.

This costume is perfect, except that he didn't plan to need to see.
And he couldn't. He bumped into a few things and I could have warned him, but I didn't. And I never would. A fat kid in a backwards Snuggie and a pointy hat? I will always watch him fail. I will help him fail given the opportunity.

I have many many more pictures and far more stories. They will have to wait. I have a Cthulu game to attend to.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

It's Gonna Be A Grumpy Ride

I have had a bit of a grumpy couple of weeks or so. Why, you ask. Here you go.

The complete lack of a sugar-free, fat free Samoa Girl Scout Cookie
Hipsters and their mere presence keeping me from attending rock shows
Tiny back packs (thanks Lynsey)
Paying for dirt and rocks
April's lack of a stand mixer 
Bobby Jindal's access to microphones and cameras
Weather. All of it
People who can't be bothered to put on clean jeans for a funeral
Cafe Eclectic not making pistachio cake or cupcakes all the time
Cobweb mold. Seriously
Slumdog Millionaire. I haven't seen it. I will not see it. The more you talk about the less likely I will see it. Shut up, already.
Sonic Drive In
Eliza Dushku
Diet root beer is not on tap in my office
No Lobster King. I call bullshit
The lack of knowledge the general public has about dialing long distance correctly
Meat flavored with sugar. Meat should be savory. Stop it, Whole Foods. 
TWhirl and Twitter and TweetDeck and stupid Twechnology
Katy fuckin' Perry.

Unless you can fix one or more of these, I probably don't have mush use for you.
Oh, and follow me on Twitter for more regular updates. MrsLawcomic.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Dress to Digress

I recently attended an event where the dress code was "Casual - Hunting Attire Encouraged". Naturally, this inspired some spectacular clothing choices. I believe dress is one of the most important elements of a party. Guests like to know what do wear and they want you to be specific. Here are some suggestions for party dress codes. They will ensure a great party and eliminate all confusion.

"Boss is Out of Town" Casual Friday
Stevie Nicks Sportswear
Rockstar (Pre Rehab) Casual
Japanese Game Show - Spandex Encouraged
Grande Non-Formal, Half-Cas', No Whip
Brazilian Cowboy Black Tie
Singles Bar Desperate Cocktail
FLDS Sisterwife Semi-Casual
Aging Hipster Semi-Formal

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I Know This Much Is True.

I have never met anyone who had a Hummer and redeeming qualities.

The Mac Genius Bar really should have at least 2 of the things its name would suggest. Preferably all three.

You cannot prepare olives or eggplants in a way that will not gross me out.

The words "synergy" and "empower"  are never appropriate. 

Not matter what I think or say, I will most likely never attend a local "rock show" again. And that is awesome.

You can go to New York City and not see a Broadway show. I promise.

Save Ted Hughes and Shakespeare (and only then in small doses) I will never like poetry.

If you can't dial long distance correctly and call me when trying to reach the White House, you don't deserve to speak to the President or his staff, you don't get the job, and your complaint shouldn't be heard. So there.

IBC Diet Root Beer is superior to all others.

If you use your phone while driving, you are an asshole. No exceptions, except me.

One either likes Joss Whedon shows or one doesn't. There is no room for compromise. I don't. Stop trying to make me compromise.

If you can't find any women to be your friend, something is wrong with you. Seriously, people even like me.

People like Coldplay for the same reason they like pate and Hemingway. They think they are supposed to. Don't worry, it's all crap and you can stop playing along.

If I ignore your app request on Facebook, it IS a personal slight. You should take it as such.
Additionally, Facebook should include a "Christiana just de-friended the fuck out of you" app.

Homemade marshmallows are better. And always worth it. Especially if April is making them.

My music is better than yours. Your music sucks. 

I am right. I know this. A professional told me so. Suck on it.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Can't Buy Me Love, So Stop Trying

The greatest of all holidays is here. Last minute gifts are a hassle, but often necessary. Here are some great last minute gift ideas for your hard to shop for Valentine.

Groceries. Nothing says love like milk, eggs and bread. Now get in there and make me some French toast.

Absence of Malice (not the movie, actual lack of ill will)

A promise ring. This is the perfect gift to say "I don't want to marry you, but I don't feel like finding someone new right now."

"Price Check" Care Kit. Tell them that you care enough to save them the embarassment of shopping for all of their disgusting afflictions. Includes: tampons, douche, Preparation H, Gas X, jock itch cream, odor eaters and a Fall Out Boy CD.


Stolen Flowers. Why pay $150 for roses? Those dead people won't even miss the wreaths.

Rohypnol. Stop wasting all that time and money getting her drunk.

Tickets to see hilarious, live Improv Comedy at Cafe Eclectic on Valentine's Day at 8pm. Wait! You don't need tickets! Just show up!

Hugs and Kisses,

Thursday, January 29, 2009

You Can't Gwyn 'Em All.

It was brought to my attention this week that Gwyneth Paltrow has a blog and newsletter. I had a few concerns. First, what Gwyneth Paltrow news am I missing? Next, is there really that much Gwyneth Paltrow news? 

Answers? I am apparently missing a lot of Gwyneth news. Apparently goop.com will "Nourish the Inner Aspect". Sweet, Jesus. There are sections titled : Make, Go, Get, Do, Be and See. 

They should be titled: Cooking Dirty Hippie Food, Places You Should Visit If You Become A Millionaire Too, Stuff To Buy When You Become A Child Of Privilege, Preachy, Extra Preachy and Condescending, and Look How Cultured And Smart I Am. 

So I decided to read the last section. After an incredibly earnest opening, including just enough self-deprecation to make herself "likable", Gwyneth and her friends recommend books. 

Christy Turlington likes Hemingway and Faulker. She identifies with a Jane Austen character. Sure, I'll buy it. She writes a few coherent reviews. So, whatever.

 Aunt Louise likes War and Peace. I call bullshit. No one has ever actually read or liked War and Peace.

Gwyn likes Jane Eyre and Dostoyevsky. She writes of Crime and Punishment

"I first read this in high school and have returned to it numerous times. I think there was something about the complexity of the protagonist’s psychology that made me feel like I wasn’t the most misunderstood person in the world (which is what happens with hormonal teenagers). Besides the fact that it is incredibly written, the unsure morality was somehow reassuring. It was okay to be figuring out one’s own sense of right and wrong. In fact, it was one of life’s great endeavors."

Blah, blah, blah. I read Crime and Punishment in college. By which, I mean, I read 3 chapters and proceeded to write an 18 page paper on why I wouldn't finish it. I got an A. I refuse to believe Gwyneth got through this novel before me and repeatedly. I do believe she found the "unsure morality" reassuring. She strikes me as a bit shifty. 

Madonna likes The Bad Girl (too obvious), Shantaram (no doubt some of that red bracelet tripe) and The Time Traveler's Wife. Madonna is the only one to list books that someone might read without being forced by a freshman lit class. However she is the only one to not even attempt a review. This says a few things to us. 

"I am Madonna, do as I say and read these."
"I don't have to justify my reading to you. I'm Madonna."
"I wrote down the titles of the books my housekeeper had in her bag. I'm Madonna, you bitch."

I am completely disturbed yet crazy fascinated by these women. The idea that they have some sort of insane book club is too much. I picture them now speaking in fake English accents, exchanging weird baby name ideas and arguing over who can look more sinewy (Madge, you're winning!) I would hate every nanny-scolding, macrobiotic, Eurotrash, yoga-filled, pretentious minute of it.

Now if you'll excuse me, Gwyenth is going to teach my how to accelerate a "sluggish bowel."

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Swift Kick In The Ass

I don't normally listen to Top 40 radio. I know you do, but I am cooler than you. Occasionally, I do like to stoop and switch on the old drive time, just so I can keep up with what the kids are into. And sometimes I actually enjoy it. I mean, Britney's "Womanizer"?  Yes ma'am, you have "got my crazy".  

But this Taylor Swift shit has got to stop.  If you are going to be a vapid blond, have the decency to be hot and dance. She probably would have gone unnoticed, but then she penned and recorded "Love Story." This will not stand and line by line, here is why.

"We were both young when I first saw you."
You're like 15 now. You don't get to use the word young when you are under 25. 

"I see you make your way through the crowd, little did I know that you were Romeo."
Damn right. Little you did know. He is not Romeo, stupid, and you are not Juliet. Also, had you actually read Romeo and Juliet, you would know it was a tragedy. Not the whiny pop wish of some dead-behind-the-eyes brat.

"We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew."
No you're not. No one will kill you. You will be grounded. Suck it up.
"You were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter."
 Have you ever read anything? Scarlet Letter? You're a Puritan in 17th Century Boston, who gives birth after committing adultery and struggles to create a new life of repentance and dignity? Really? Dammit, you are stupid.

"You be the prince and I'll be the princess."
Are you 12? He'll be middle management at the DMV and you'll do the laundry. Grow up.

"Romeo save me, they try to tell me how to feel. This love is difficult, but it's real."
Screw you. You are a ridiculous child. I am sure "they" do not tell you crap, princess. I had parents, they told me what to do, but who has ever been told what to feel? And this is not love, nor is is difficult, nor is it real. Don't you have Webkinz to tend to?

"Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess."
What mess? You are tweens dating. You are not in a bitter family feud that will inevitably result in both your deaths.

"I got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around. My faith in you is fading."
Already! It's been three verses!  I hate you, Taylor. I hate you from my soul.

" He knelt to the ground.....I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress."
You are not old enough to marry! And I thought your dad hated him. And hadn't you already lost faith in him? This union is doomed, not because you are star-crossed lovers, but because you are a fickle and sulking child.  

Look, I get that you want to sound smart and well read, but there wasn't a single other literary device you could use that hasn't been featured in over 200* other songs? 
(*In title alone according to iTunes, never mind every crappy song which mentions Romeo and Juliet in the lyrics.) 

I blame Taylor, but it took a lot of people to get this song this far. To hell with you all. Producers, radio stations, listeners. You obviously can't be trusted with something as simple as descent music. How can I trust you with anything else?

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Any Witch Way But Loose.

An open letter to the Wiccan / Pagan Community.

Hi Guys (and gals)!

How's it going? Look, I am not a religious person, but I am super happy you have found something to believe in. However, I happened upon some of your "literature" and we need to talk. Don't get excited, I didn't seek you out from curiosity. I was waiting for a table in the bookstore's Cafe and got stuck looking at the Pagan/Wicca shelf. I don't want into your coven or circle or Thursday night tea and biscuit meeting.

Now, before you get your bloomers in a bunch, I am not here to attack your beliefs. On paper everyone's religion looks ridiculous. Even the Christian Old Testament sounds like Lord of the Rings if you weren't raised with it. 

I'm here to talk marketing.
If you guys really want to get out there and get people excited about polytheistic nature-based magic, you need some help. So here goes.

1. Stop renaming yourself. When Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali, it was cool. Black guys who can fight get to change their names for religion. When Stephen Gunderson becomes Arsenic Moonglow, it is really, really gay. Seriously. 

2. Stop dressing like Stevie Nicks. Or Goth Barbie. Or Marylin Manson.  If you do insist on dressing like a druid at a Japanese sideshow, you cannot get mad when I stare at you and laugh. 

3. Stop writing poetry. Especially with names like "Superbly Ascending Illusion" or "I of the Mercury". What is lame when you are 13 is creepy and bothersome at 30. Jewel learned her lesson. If you set it to catchy pop music, you sound like less of a twat. But not by much.

4. Stop telling my future. Do not read my past. You do not know either. Nothing is more infuriating then some angsty man with a lip ring and guyliner saying things like "Your moon is in Jupiter and it's making you cranky" or "Maybe you upset the tree and that's why the limb crashed through your roof." Nope. I am cranky because there is a branch in my attic. 

5. Stop misspelling on purpose. Woman is spelled W-O-M-A-N. Tough break. The Christians beat you to an accepted written language. Suck it up. "Magickal" is not a word. Spell check says so. 

6. Stop being gross. I am a fan of the human body and I am not embarrassed or grossed out by normal bodily functions. If I was, I wouldn't still be married. But even I have limits. Stop making your own tampons. Stop saving the placenta for various icky things. Shave. Take a bath and remember that dreadlocks are ONLY for Rastafarians. If you refuse to accept these things, at least stop telling me about it. 

I know this doesn't apply to all of you. I know some really great Pagans and Christians and Muslims and Atheists. I'm talking to the Jerry Falwell type Pagans, the Wiccan equivalent of Promise Keepers. Stop taking yourselves so seriously. You don't have to be a stereotype. No one thinks you are mysterious or taboo anymore. We just wish you wouldn't wear so much damn Patchouli. 

Yours in Love!


Friday, January 2, 2009

You Say You Want a Resolution, Well, You Know....

The New Year is upon us. I am awesome the way I am, but you may need improvement. These are the resolutions I would like to suggest for those around me. 

Get more exercise.  I have a lot of errands. I often do not get to these, due to an incredibly busy social life. (People love me.) You could get out, see the city and get a workout by running those errands for me. Start with the dry cleaning. Thanks.

Be more responsible with money.  - Whether a cup of coffee or a beautiful skein of yarn, a gift keeps the demons at bay. By which, I mean me. I like soy lattes and green merino.

Talk less and listen more.  You going on and on about your day will only make me grumpier and therefore make it harder for me to keep my resolution to stop hitting people. Listen to me when I say "Shut up."

Spend more time with family. - You can start with mine. I can ignore them if you don't. Besides, after listening to your glaring failures and shortcomings, my mom will think I am a super hero.

Attend church more regularly. - Obviously you are in need of structure. Many people don't know this, but God is quite easily found. He is in my kitchen on Sunday mornings just past 11am. But he will only show himself and bless you if you make french toast. With bacon. 

I want you to be a better person because I care. Now seriously, shut up and flip the bacon.