Wow. Really? Huh.

How Swede It Is

2010-11-15T13:37:00.001-08:00

Sweden has a higher level of social spending to GDP than any other nation. Because of this, they some of the lowest levels of both relative and absolute poverty, and one of the most equal income distributions. Sweden also provides equal and comprehensive access to both education and health care. Given every advantage to not just survive, but thrive, the Swedes turn around and do this.

http://tnbrg.blogspot.com/

and this

http://tnbrg.blogspot.com/2008/11/hussein-is-president-of-united-states.html

What the hell?

But what do you expect? This is his profile http://www.blogger.com/profile/03276576110257211366

Interests include: decay, fashion, christianity, gangs and throw ups. Indeed.

Lost in translation

2010-11-09T10:34:00.001-08:00

I do not know what is going on here, but I am super excited that involves a wedding dress, happy fish icon and Alfred Hitchcock. Win, win, extra super awesome win. http://azo-edu.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog

Beat on the brat

2010-11-08T19:23:00.001-08:00

Oh my god! Someone come quick, that one kid is kicking the crap out of the other kid and trying to bury him in a pile of leaves! And this lady is drawing pictures of it and printing it on "fall" themed note cards! http://juliescraftyspot.blogspot.com/2010/11/digi-doodle-shops-best-challenge... Oh the humanity!

Beat on the brat

2010-11-08T19:22:00.001-08:00

Oh my god! Someone come quick, that one kid is kicking the crap out of the other kid and trying to bury him in a pile of leaves! And this lady is drawing pictures of it and printing it on "fall" themed nite cards! http://juliescraftyspot.blogspot.com/2010/11/digi-doodle-shops-best-challenge... Oh the humanity!

Wake me when something happens

2010-11-07T19:21:00.001-08:00

Look, I get it. Almost every blog is lame. Blogs are the place we put things that are too boring or lame to be Facebook status updates. But damn. This is egregious. http://ralmagehansen.blogspot.com/2010/10/dishes.html I have never once in my entire life cared about how other people handle their dishes. Unless that dish is being thrown at me. Which happens more often than you think.

Smells Like Teen Bullsh*t

2010-11-07T08:31:00.001-08:00

I mean, it's like, you know, things and stuff and, like feelings. Right? Seriously, the title of the blog is the only thing I understood. http://abhas1.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog . Though it did remind me to send a note to my teenage self (and most other teens): You are a douchbag.

Notable Quotable

2010-11-06T21:09:00.001-07:00

I haven't read this blog in a long time and I don't think about it at all but then, I came across this http://beefandchocolate.blogspot.com/2010/11/doritos.html . I cannot stop quoting it. The rest of the entries are freaking genius. But only when read aloud as though English is your third language and you learned it in Wisconson. Go ahead. Try it.

Blech Indeed

2010-11-06T21:03:00.001-07:00

So this happen - http://paulandmerideth.blogspot.com/2010/05/oh-world-of-college-ministry.html . The game is questionable at best and do NOT get me started on the later Big Lots reference (pure genius/ awful/ waste of money/ WTF), but this wins the honor of repost solely for the use of the word "blech".

You are perfect.

2010-10-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

The recent suicides of several (goddamn, SEVERAL) LGBT teens is terrifying. It is terrifying because each one was set in motion by bullies. People who convinced these children that life wasn't good enough, that THEY weren't good enough.

I am devastated for so many reasons. How have we raised people that are so inhuman that they think torturing others is funny? Why do we allow people to believe that words are not weapons? Does anyone realize what an utter failure we are as a race that we haven't given our friends and family enough comfort to know that there is another way out?

Call me a hypocrite. I complain. I'm mean. A lot. I write jokes. I know what I am writing. I know the power it has. Do not ever believe that I do not weigh the impact of my words and actions continually. I do.

I have lost far too many people to suicide. A ridiculous amount. I believe firmly that for an adult to take their own life is the most selfish thing anyone can do, they have failed us. When a child ends their own life, we have failed them.

It does little good to write some trifle of a blog entry. But it is all I have.

Please, to anyone reading this who is hurting, I have been there and I know the despair. I have been bullied to the brink. All through grade school, cruel and mindless children tortured me to the very edge. I was bullied mercilessly and continually. I pulled through. I became an amazing person, because of, or in spite of it. After many years of ridicule and desperation, I found peace in my self. I have learned much and I do not pretend to know it all, but I know a few things.

1. Who you are right now is PERFECT.
You are exactly as you are meant to be. Who you are is MORE than enough.
Anyone who tells you differently is a liar.

2. These are NOT the 'best days of your life'.
Especially if you are still in elementary school, high school or college: this is not it. It gets better.
Anyone who tells you differently is a liar.

3. LIFE is AMAZING.
For all it's hurt and trials and stains and cracks, this world is full of more joy and wonder than you can ever know. It is full of rain and grass, husbands and peonies and pugs, ice cream and velvet and pedicures and bacon and whispers and fresca. Any one of those things is worth getting out of bed for.
Anyone who tells you differently is a murderer.

If you don't believe me, call someone. Call a friend, a family member, a doctor, a stranger. Call someone you trust and ask them why they got up this morning. You may be shocked, but the answer is probably you.

This Pit Is Banana, B-A-N-A-N-A-S

2010-09-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

This is my post this week from The Great and Secret Thing. Can't get enough of me? Check out my archive on TGST here. While you're there, read EVERYTHING ELSE ON THE SITE. It is one of my favorites. It's full of art, design, poetry, fiction and so much more. Oh, and plenty of me.

-------------------------

Kirk Cameron and his friend Ray Comfort "proved" the creationist theory with a banana here.

If a banana proves creation, then what does another fruit prove?

Behold the sinister peach.

If you look at it, you'll notice it's round and soft. It has a clever little cleft that makes it look vaguely like a human butt from some angels. The peach is covered in tiny fuzzy hairs. These hairs are not tasty nor pleasant to the mouth and they immediately warn you against eating it.

So, we must remove the outer cover. When we attempt to peel the peach, it tears and pulls. Pieces of skin are difficult to remove without a knife or tool. When we finally remove the inconvenient outer cover, we notice that the hairy skin has done nothing to protect the inside. The meat can be bruised and mushy, even though the outside color is the same as the last peach we had which was perfectly ripe and delicious.

Now we are able to eat the peach. Or are we? Before we even bite into the flesh, it has become almost impossible to hold. It is sticky and slippery, but if we tighten our grip, it smashes in our fingers. We awkwardly place our mouth on the flesh trying not to drop the fruit in the process. We take a bite. Our teeth hit the hard stone center in a crash of pain. There is a giant seed. We attempt to push the seed out or peel the fruit from it, but they are joined on all sides. If the peach is a bit under ripe, the seeds pulls away easily, but the meat is not as tasty. If the peach is at the peak of sweet perfection, the meat clings to the bitter pit in desperation. We must clumsily eat around the pit trying to not get too close, lest we taste the acrid flesh nearest the center.

Lastly, the pit is potentially dangerous. Peach seeds contain cyanogenic glycosides. These substances are capable of decomposing into a sugar molecule and hydrogen cyanide gas. While peach seeds are not the most toxic, large doses of these chemicals from any source are hazardous to human health.

So to recap:

Banana / Peach

Fits the human hand / Hairy ball

Non-slip grip / Juicy, sticky mess

Easy open tab top / Difficult to peel, skin or chop

Mouth shaped / Ass-shaped

Color indicates tastiness / Color indicates fuck all

Seedless and easy to eat / Cyanide filled rock in the center

Bananas don't prove anything, except the existence of bananas. Believe whatever you want, just remember, they call it faith for a reason.

Doin' It and Doin' It and Doin' It Well

2010-09-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

This is a post I wrote in early August and must have forgotten to post. I was too busy living . But it needs to be seen. Enjoy.

---
Stop bitching about how there is nothing to do in Memphis. There's plenty. Go do it. Here's some suggestions from my last two weeks:

Friday

Running Gag and Friends (Wiseguys and Freakengine) had a great show at at the Evergreen Theatre. There are THREE improv comedy troupes in Memphis, people. Go see one of them. Or go see 2 of them. Or go see them all and write an essay comparing and contrasting performance styles and modern improvisational theory. It's your life.

Saturday

Flipside Memphis hosted a Season Screening at the Brooks Museum. Amazing films about even more amazing things you can do in Memphis. Check out the May 12 episode to see my job or June 2 to see my husband! I also met Alice from Vini. Super nice, amazingly creative. They host a social club on Mondays. Make art, meet people, quit whining.

For lunch we went to Gus's Fried Chicken for the best chicken in the city, probably the world.
Not to mention, people watching beyond compare. Check out the Memphis Knit Mafia tag by the register.

That night, my husband's troupe, The Wiseguys performed an all ages show at Cafe Eclectic.
Comedy + Key Lime Pie + Coffee = I Don't Want to Kick Everyone's Ass As Much.

Monday
Marks Menus Eat Up at South of Beale was a blast. Marks Menus combines two of my favorite things: food and publicly voicing an opinion. South of Beale combines two of my other favorite things: brisket and deep frying. Get the egg rolls and DO NOT SHARE.

Tuesday
Memphis Knit Mafia at Casa Grill . Great company, great food, great service. I highly recommend the house iced tea and ALL the food.

Saturday
Storytellers Unplugged featuring Chris Davis from the Memphis Flyer. Dinner at Zinnie's East, then upstairs for one of the most insane stories I have heard in a while, told by Chris as though it was the sort of thing that had happen to everyone at least once. I have been through a lot and led a full and storied life. I have NEVER found a sex toy in a field and brought it home. Just sayin.

Sunday
Memphis Polo Club to benefit Girls Inc. Surprisingly fun day.
I was worried we would be a bit low brow for the polo set. They were warm and welcoming. We packed a fancy spread of champagne and cheese and crackers. Erin made Polo cupcakes. Jonathan brought flower arrangements. Very civilized. We made over the top hats and had a blast. We even won for best tailgate! It was honestly the most diverse crowd I had seen at a Memphis event in a while. A great way to spend an afternoon!

Later we celebrated a friend's birthday at EuroStyle Restaurant . GO TO THERE NOW. The food was amazing, the service friendly and fast. The best part of the night was the entertainment. Every night a very talented man on a keyboard plays piano bar music. Like USSR radio music. Elvis, Sinatra and plenty of eastern block favs. GOLD. Russian beer, by the way, is tasty and comes in VERY large bottles.

On the fence about Memphis? Live this week.
If this isn't enough Memphis for you, move. Seriously. Get out.

Live Rude Girls!

2010-08-04T09:23:00.000-07:00

Today, we have a very special Guest Blogger. My friend Lindsey is far too lazy to start her own blog, so she wrote this. Then made me do all the work of posting it. Slacker. Enjoy!

------

I have been told that my status updates are clever. Great, but the point of this blog post is not to focus on my awesomeness, but rather to help others avoid the shame of being hidden. So here are some do’s and don’t’s with Facebook status updates, perhaps it can save you from being hidden, if you already aren’t. This will work best if you pull up your profile and look at a sampling of your status updates.

1. Don’t be boring. Could I reconstruct a concise timeline of your day or week by reading your status updates? Then, you are boring. If I wanted this kind of information, I would marry you. If you feel the need to tell the Facebook world you are waiting for the bug man, then tell us what you imagine the bug man will look like. Then, when the bug man arrives and you inevitably want to update your status, you can tell us all how far off your mental picture of (her!) was and that makes your boring, inconsequential update a little less so. Just a little.

Examples:

BadStatus: Waiting in line at the DMV sucks.

GoodStatus: If this trip to the DMV were a sitcom, this is the point where I would change the channel because “things like that just don’t happen.”

2. Don’t be a self-help book. If you need a pep talk, don’t give it to yourself on Facebook; it just comes off as desperate and pathetic and it’s so easy for people to remember these little Tony Robbins updates when your life is spiraling back into whatever perpetual state of fuckedupedness its fated to return to.

Bad Status: My life is perfect and wonderful and I am exactly where I should be right now because I visualized myself here.

Good Status: Hey, I’m not screwing up right now.

3. Along the same lines – don’t profess your love on Facebook. If your significant other is the bee’s knees say so, but don’t go on and on about how wonderful your life is together. It just sounds like you are trying to convince yourself (which you probably are).

Bad Status: My shnookie wookie is the most amazing man ever. My life is so blessed to have you in it. You make me a better person everyday with your effervescent spirit and your unrelenting support.

Good Status: I love my husband like Donkey Kong loves throwing barrels.

4. Don’t overly quote. A clever quote every now and again is one thing, but if your profile is a series of quotes, it means you have nothing original to say. Therefore, you are boring. Along the same lines, I’m not sure where this trend of coming posting youtube song after song after song came from. It is okay to cruise you tube as much as you want, but you make a mistake when you think everyone else cares what you are watching. The only good way to exhibit this behavior is to do it every once in a while.

5. Don’t talk about your kids too much. This infraction is often paired with #1. If your profile is all about your child, then you don’t have a life and trust me, that’s the worst thing that you can do to a child is make your life revolve around them. Just look at Britney and Lindsay. That’s right, keep talking about your kids on Facebook and they’ll be spending time in the slammer in no time. There are ways to make fun child-related updates. Just think: would my friend that hates kids find this interesting? If so, you’re okay to post. (another note: if it would end up on STFU Parents, then don’t post it)

Bad Status: OMG, my little Muffy is six months old today. I can’t believe my little angel is such a big girl.

Good Status: Muffy’s six months old today and still doesn’t have a job. The mooch.

6. Don’t write letters to people/things/events. It was clever when the first 100 people did it; now, it's just passive aggressive and past the point of ridiculous.

Bad Status: Dear woman who was in front of me at Costco who paid with pennies and smelled bad and gave me a dirty look when I tapped my foot at you, thanks for ruining my day. Love, Me.

Good Status: Shopping in bulk might save you money, but it won’t spare you the shame of getting in the wrong line. Every. Time.

Bottom line is you’re going to keep doing what you do and I will probably keep reading your status updates because you are a trainwreck and I can’t help it.

I'm Not Fat, I'm Grumpy.

2010-07-12T09:49:00.000-07:00

I joined a gym.

Do not start with the congratulations and encouragement. It's condescending. I'm fat and tired of it. I go to the gym. Don't coddle me.

But people are not making it easy. Forget the agony of getting up at the ass crack of dreadful. Forget the drive to the gym, the aches and pains, the sweat. Forget all the parts of the actual exercise that are not enjoyable. (And do not give me that runner's high bullshit.) The other people at the gym are what make me want to slink back to bed with a donut and await my impending coronary.

Today at the gym, I'm on the elliptical, a TOTAL STRANGER walks by. He stops to say hello.

TS: Good morning!

Me: morning

TS: So, how much have you lost?

Me: What?

TS: Weight, how much have you lost?

Me: I don't know.

TS: Well, why not?

Me: I don't weigh.

TS: Then what's the point?

At this point, it is all I can do to not punch him in the neck. First, what fraking business is it of yours, STRANGE OLD MAN? But beyond that I want to shout: HEY ASSHOLE! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT?! ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT?! ARE YOU?!

Let me stop to say that I know I am fat. I get it. I also have no illusions that people don't make assumptions about me based on being fat. But guess what? That stunned stupid look in your eye tells me you're a moron, and I don't ask you how long it took you to figure out how to turn on the rowing machine. (For the record, almost 10 minutes. Hint, the rower is not electric).

The same week, while I was working out, someone talked to me for 30 minutes about how he hated technology, and used to be married to that florist, and had these two dogs named Buster and Bobo, and now he's here, thanks to jesus, and "gee, ain't it nice to have someone to talk to at the gym?". NO. No, it isn't nice. That's why I have my iPod and iPad. So I don't have to interact with you.

Then in the locker room, THE INNER SANCTUM, a woman began to tell me about how her husband died. A woman I didn't know was telling me, in great fraking detail, about the death of a man I never met as I sat wrapped in a towel putting on mascara. WTF.

I know I sound like the dick in all this. These poor people just needed someone to talk to. But why me? When then? I am already someplace I do not want to be doing something that makes me miserable. Make friends on your own time, jerks. Now I have to wear fake earphones so I can pretend to not hear them instead of being a total douche about it. The worst part is that being a total douche doesn't work either. Being distant or outright rude does NOT discourage them.

The problem is that we have broken the social contract. Especially in the South. There is an inferred sense of intimacy when we participate in similar activities. Going to the same gym does not make us friends. That's like forming a sorority for people who love Fruity Pebbles cereal. It's just pathetic.

I propose a restoration of basic gym rules. Rules that will make it easier for me to drag my fat ass out of bed and on to the treadmill. So here goes:

Rule 1. Leave me alone. You may greet me with a nod or soft "hi". But that is it.

Rule 2. NEVER discuss work with me at the gym. This is me time. I am in ill spirits already.

Rule 3. Do not mention my weight. Or my goals. Or how much my working out "really is paying off". Leave me alone.

Rule 4. If I am working out, leave me alone.

Rule 5. If I am in towel, leave me alone for REAL.

Exercise in a gym is a solitary activity. If you want it to be social, join a class or bring a friend. Otherwise, go join ineedfriends.com and leave me alone.

Truth or Snare

2010-03-08T11:37:00.000-08:00

Go to http://formspring.me/MrsLawcomic and ask me anything. I'll even let you ask anonymously! Lucky you!

Advice on love, cooking, friends, work, knitting, anything. Any answers will be as honest as I can and possibly funny.

I'm not promising I'll answer all of them, but lets's just give it the ol' community college try. Shall we?

Shrink-y Dink

2010-02-01T08:14:00.000-08:00

When I turned 30, I promised myself 2 things: therapy and a house keeper. Every two weeks, someone tells me I'm right and someone else dusts. Clean house, clean mind. A year later, the house keeper is gone. I couldn't justify the expense of both and, as it turns out, I like the instant gratification of vacuuming. Also, I have a Dyson, which is extra badass.

The therapist stayed.

How could she not? She is doing good work. If you've read this blog, you know I have issues. And she listens. I drone on about my life and whine and bitch and she has to pretend to be interested. It's brilliant. $30 a session and she agrees with me. Don't misunderstand. She tells me when I'm wrong. Just not often. She knows what's good for her.

The downside is that between therapy and Twitter I was getting all (okay, most) of my bitching out of my system. Doesn't leave a lot for blogging. But then the wonder and magic of the human spirit took over. I have come to realize that my capacity for anger and agitation is well beyond what I realized. Exponentially infinite. I have found fresh new things to hate. Things that only once got a passing scowl are now given the true weight of my anger. With the real issues settling, I can focus my energy on hating things like E! online, eggs, Body by Jake, people who drink white zinfandel, and James Cameron.

Get a therapist, people. That and smoking are the only things that set us apart from the apes. Even better, get a therapist in a smoking office and tell those monkeys where to shove it.

It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Stupid Things

2010-01-24T08:30:00.000-08:00

The holidays were tough and I just haven't had the time or will to talk to you guys. But it's a new year and time to start fresh. I've had plenty of time to think and I'm calling bullshit on a few things. So let's make a social contract, folks. You give up this things on my list and I won't start ramming strangers with my car. Deal?

Open toe boots.

This shit has gone too far. They are hideous. Just because something is new and weird doesn't mean it is attractive. If you have open toe boots, you fell for it. Admit defeat to savvy marketing and move on.

Joy Behar

She was hanging by a thread. Now she has the Nancy Grace/CNN stink on her.

Giving your kids stupid misspelled names

If you want to give your kid a special unique name, do it. Name her Zaiah or Penelope or Birdie. Ayshleigh and Kailee are typos. Stop making bad spelling what passes for originality.

FB Game Invites

Mafia Wars, Farmville, etc. Do not invite me. I have a job and a social life. Also your game is dumb and pointless. Except Farkle. That's just good ol' fashion fun.

'At Last' being played in commercials.

If you say to yourself 'at last my love has come along' when you buy cat food, you will never know true happiness. Fact.

Black-Guy-with-White-Girl-Forbidden-Love

Dance on SYTYCD.

We get it. They are different races. Do something interesting. It isn't 1956. This is not edgy, except maybe in Jasper, Alabama. Which reminds me...

Jasper, Alabama.

I have had the utter displeasure to be forced to drive through Jasper repeatedly. As a child, I spent days at a time there. On Christmas Day, I had the onerous misfortune to have to eat a meal there. In a Hardees. If your town is on a major highway in the south and you can't even rustle up a Cracker Barrel, society and civilization have given up on you. If you know anyone who is currently living there and not trying to get out, shoot them in the face. They don't deserve the gift of life.

A Day in the Strife

2009-11-17T08:54:00.001-08:00

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.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

2009-10-15T08:53:00.000-07:00

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.

Cozumel Cruise - The lost Tweets

2009-10-04T15:13:00.000-07:00

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."

Music

2009-09-08T17:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Hell is (for) Children

2009-08-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

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.

Wax Off

2009-08-21T13:37:00.000-07:00

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.

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.
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.
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.
For Brazilian waxing, ask a few specifics.

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.
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..
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.
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.

In Your Face

2009-08-14T13:38:00.000-07:00

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.

Hair's Looking at You, Kid

2009-08-07T13:38:00.000-07:00

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.

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.

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

2009-07-31T13:39:00.000-07:00

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.

Troubleshooting

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.

The Sun Also Fries Us

2009-07-24T13:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Miss Me?

2009-07-17T13:40:00.003-07:00

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.

-C

Sephor-A-Way

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.

Stop putting your finger in everything. Use a spatula for creams, and q-tips or brushes for all else. I mean really.
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.
Stop letting your kids and teenagers put their fingers in everything. Double icky icky icky.
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.

Tiny Rant

2009-07-09T07:30:00.000-07:00

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.

It's Like Rain On Your Wedding Gay

2009-06-09T13:31:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-05-18T15:02:00.000-07:00

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.

Just the facts, ma'am.

2009-05-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

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.

Over the Thrill

2009-04-29T15:00:00.000-07:00

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!

The Douche Doesn't Fall Far From The Bag

2009-04-11T13:57:00.000-07:00

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.

Con Lair

2009-04-08T11:56:00.000-07:00

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.

It's Gonna Be A Grumpy Ride

2009-03-10T09:31:00.000-07:00

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

Skif

Cafe Eclectic not making pistachio cake or cupcakes all the time

Eggs

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.

Weddings

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.

Dress to Digress

2009-02-24T09:36:00.000-08:00

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
Scrubs
Grande Non-Formal, Half-Cas', No Whip
Brazilian Cowboy Black Tie
Singles Bar Desperate Cocktail
FLDS Sisterwife Semi-Casual
Aging Hipster Semi-Formal

I Know This Much Is True.

2009-02-19T05:47:00.000-08:00

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.

Can't Buy Me Love, So Stop Trying

2009-02-12T09:00:00.000-08:00

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.

Octuplets

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,
X

You Can't Gwyn 'Em All.

2009-01-29T10:00:00.000-08:00

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."

Seriously.

Swift Kick In The Ass

2009-01-13T16:27:00.000-08:00

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?

Any Witch Way But Loose.

2009-01-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

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!

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

2009-01-02T11:27:00.000-08:00

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.

App-surd

2008-12-23T15:45:00.000-08:00

People with iphones are assholes. We all know it. Whip out your iphone and see how many people swoop around to see what "apps" you have. Some of the most popular (and I am not even making this up) are iFart, Virtual Zippo, and Peanut Butter Jelly Time. They are often stupid little programs that don't actually do anything. Except make you look like a D-bag. Here are the apps I would like for my iphone.

iShun - I am tired of having to be snide and rude to people to get them to go away. This program would, at the touch of a button, immediately alert those that have offended or slighted me that they are officially Dead to Me. This gives them the chance to a)apologize and suck up to me, or b) awkwardly avoid making eye contact ever again.

Shitter - Having an iPhone is about constant contact. Facebook status updates, Twitter, Loopt. This app is like Twitter, but it alerts everyone every time I use the bathroom. Now my friends can know what I am doing at all times! Privacy is soooo overrated.

YesDear - People like to talk to me. Even when I am obviously not listening. The thing is, no one actually wants my true opinion. (summed up, in most cases, by "So the fuck what.") They want validation. This program allows me to record simple 1-2 word phrases that will randomly be generated once activated. I can play Tetris while you talk. At varying intervals the phone will respond - "uh-huh" "wow" "no?!" "fair enough" " you're right"- saving us all a lot of time and trouble.

Capullo - We live in a global society. I have met people from all over the world. I usually do not like them. This app will provide written and audio instruction for calling anyone an asshole in any language. Upgrades will include new phrases like "What are you? Stupid?", "Learn to drive!", and "I asked for soy, you twat!"

Sub-texting Charges May Apply.

2008-12-19T07:33:00.000-08:00

I've been receiving Christmas Cards like crazy this year. (And every year. I am very popular.) People wishing me cheer and happiness. People demanding I have a Merry this or Happy that. But I can read between the lines. I know what they really mean. I demand from now on that all cards sent to me state clearly what they actually mean. So buy some blank cards and choose the inscription that applies.

Your are not important enough to receive a gift from me.

Happy Whatever-it-is-you-people-celebrate!

I'm still alive. No inheritance for you this year!

Things are just great with me. No, really. Can't you see how happy we look in the photo!!! We're great......

I'm not sure who you are, but your are on my card list and I don't want to take you off the list, just in case.

If this marriage thing doesn't work out, you know where to find me.

You purchased something from my business this year. Now I will send you cards that make me seem like a "friend of the family". Please buy more stuff.

Hey Kali Kali

2008-12-17T08:25:00.000-08:00

Often my friend make offerings to me. Wether to ask favors, or to please and calm my spirit, they are always appreciated. My friend Doug recently made me an amazing pair of handmade sock blockers. His wife made me baked goods. Lynsey made me a pin cushion and some jam. Gorgeous.

Here are some other things I would like my friends to make me.

The Necronomicon

An omelet without all those disgusting eggs

One of those old wall mount accordion coffee cup holders

The will to live

A little black dress that fits perfectly and moves effortlessly from the Boardroom to the Ballroom

Rich

A cover recording of “Je Ne Sais Pas Pourquoi”

The crown jewels

Bohr's Atomic model

A ghostwriter

Or just send cash! I just love a handmade Christmas! Don't you?

Are You Still Talking?

2008-12-17T08:06:00.000-08:00

It occurs to me, especially during the holidays, that many people think I give a crap. About what, you say? Things. Varied and many. They call me. They send Christmas letters. They talk and talk. To save us all some time, trouble and paper, here is a starter list for things I don't give a crap about.

1) Your kids. No matter what Little Mollie does, I will not care. I have only met her once and she threw up on me. I do not want to know her better. The fact that she can spell her name will not bring back my favorite black cashmere cardigan.

2) Your job. All our jobs suck. That's why they pay us. And, yes, I know, it's never enough. Shut up. If you have recently quit your job. Tread lightly. If you have quit because a)you want to pursue your real love - making fairy dolls, b) they just didn't "get" you , c) you were tired of working for "the man", back away slowly. Then run. The coffee mug I am throwing may just miss you.

3) Your man. Yes, he loves you. But I don't even like YOU. I certainly can't pretend to be interested HIS band. Oh, and I'm sure he and his wife really are separated. Sure.

4) Your philanthropy. You can work at a soup kitchen. You can give all of your Christmas gifts to kid's with cancer. No amount of charity work will make me like you. You may be generous, but you are still boring the shit out of me. Go blow a homeless guy. I'd listen to that story.

Cyndii Loo Who?

2008-12-15T18:57:00.000-08:00

I have many friends. They are very awesome. Tonight I will spotlight one of them.

Meet Cyndii Jo.

Cyndii Jo is my friend. She is all the best parts of Dolly Parton with more class and less ridiculous tits. She is one of the most beautiful people I know. "Cyndii Jo the Wig Ho" is a great hairdresser. Cyndii Jo is a great decorator. She also has impeccable taste in clothing, but not men. I'm working on it. She is learning to do a backflip. She likes rock and roll. Talking to her is like being in Steel Magnolias and Sex in the City at the same time.

She loves Pancho's cheese dip and Celine Dion. She is the only person I know who has admitted to eating a Baconator. I wish everyone knew how awesome she is. Especially her.

I see your Geek and raise you a Dork.

2008-12-14T16:21:00.000-08:00

This officially seals my fate. I am a card carrying nerd.

Today, we went to the Magic: The Gathering World Championship Tournament. Please keep in mind, I married into this. Sure I "played" RPG's growing up. By which I mean, I dressed up like a vampire and smoked. Nerdy, but not quite to this level. Though I admit pretending to be a vampire is totally gay. Anyway, today, I invested in my geekdom. I bought a deck and paid an entry fee and played. I even stood around and watched other people play. I still have no idea what is going on. But there we were. So here it is.

I played against this guy. I didn't even get to play a card before

he beat me. Not one. In six turns. Geez.

He looks alot like this guy. ( Johnny Angel from Practical Magic.)

That's probably why I lost. Distraction. Also I do not know how to play. The matches are best two of three, so I had to play him again. I lost. But at least I got to play a few cards. He went easy on me. He was handsome and merciful.

*swoon* ( My husband and Johnny....nerds are hot.)

I then watched my husband handily win his tournament match. That's right, ladies. My man has won a match during official MTG Tournament play. Stay back!! He's ALL mine.

Not a total loss. We did meet people from all over. Luke (Geeky McDreamy) drove in from Indianapolis. A kid from Australia helped me build my deck. We sat next to some guys from China and behind the Germans. I watched Team USA beat Japan.

This is Team USA kickin' ass and not getting dames.

Speaking of which.....

Can you find the girl in this pic of the crowd?

Trick question! There are no girls. I'm sure they are all at home waiting for their men to return from battle. "Slay the Shivan Dragon!!! Bring home the six booster decks, oh Mighty Provider!"

All in all, we had fun. We got free cards. We made friends. I may have lost all my street cred, but I did gain a DCI Pro foil, only available at sanctioned events. Boo-Yah!

I Bring Home the Bacon Bits

2008-12-13T15:15:00.000-08:00

With the holidays upon us, you are bound to have guests. Sure you want to look like the perfect wife and homemaker, but that Xbox is not going to play itself. Following these few easy tips can make you hero at your house while still having time to beat BabyMama24's high score.

1. Keep a guest room. It makes you look generous and hospitable. Put in the smallest, least comfortable bed possible and let the dogs nap there. Next, fill this room with stuff - your bike, filing cabinets, litter boxes, etc. Make it uninhabitable. You don't actually want people staying with you.

2. Cook. But not too well. Have some successes, sprinkled with glaring failures. If everything you make is really good, people will expect that. Going out to dinner is underrated. Make it happen. Burn the turkey and go to the Happy Mexican for fajitas. You will thank me.

3. Buy lots of underwear. For you, not your spouse. That way he will run out of clean undies before you and be forced to do laundry. Look busy. Make some break and bake cookies. He'll feel like you have shared the workload.

4. Never underestimate smell. Why bother with all kinds of cleaning? Spray air freshener or Lysol, or bleach - whatever. Smells clean? Must be! You guests will think they are complete assholes for doubting your housekeeping skills.

5. Wear an apron. You have to dress for success. An apron and loose updo go a long way. And cute shoes. Glasses make you look smart. Clear plastic heels make you look like a stripper. A shitty haircut makes you look like Robert. An apron make you look like June Cleaver. If you look the part, people will respect you. Kinda like a mall cop.

6. Recycle. It's fast, easy and free. Also you get to be really self righteous without having to buy a Prius.

7. Remember Coco Chanel. She always said to take one thing off before leaving the house. Too much ruins the effect. If you're too perfect your friends won't buy it. Leave a shelf undusted or "forget" to do your hair. Look like you are running five minutes late. Now you seem attainable and human. The girl next door.

Or you could just get a few sister wives. Oh, to dream. I'd get so much done if there were other women in my house half-assing their way through the chores. Sigh....Company's coming and I need to go muss my ponytail. How do I do it all?!

Wow. I Hate These Things.

2008-12-12T15:00:00.000-08:00

Hair the Musical - no redeeming qualities. Bad music, bad choreography, bad lyrics. I get it, your edgy free spirits. But really, what drunk frat boy hasn't written a song about sodomy.

Chocolate with pieces of fruit inside, or worse fruit cream. (except strawberries, but only actual berries and only if there is no weird berry goo in it.

Mustang Sally and Brown-Eyed Girl. These are banned from any event I host.

Palin Supporters. You obviously can't be trusted to make sound judgements. I am voting Alaska out of the Union. Lunatics and drunkards, every one of 'em.

Contemporary gospel and light jazz.

Atlanta Drivers - see also Memphis, D.C., and any other city I have been to.

Boiled Custard - Drink egg nog or piss off.

The Dirty Projectors - They just can on XM. I hate them already.

"Fresh-a-licious" and other variations on delicious - see also Fergie.

"La Damnation de Faust" - Metaphors only go so far. Berlioz fails to show the dichotomy of loneliness within in crowd. Mephistopheles is too awkward and not playful or scary enough. The libretto is tragic, yet not a tragedy. The score is too contemporary for my taste with such a timeless story. I do not appreciate indulging the composer for too long, too many times. It is an opera after all, if no one is going to sing for 10 minutes (post overture) I expect a ballet. Dammit.

Fergie and her horse face and man shoulders, also her hair. Your butt can't fix everything, missy.

Chick-Fil-A. This is not open for discussion.

WalMart - They are of the devil. See also, Sam's, Exxon, Walgreens and On the Border.

Olives. All colors, prepared all ways.

Blackbaud

Ancient Sea Gods Who Eat People

Frank Black post Pixies right up until he rejoined the Pixies.

The other people at a Henry Rollin's spoken word show

The idea that Batman is a SUPER-hero. A hero? Yes. Super? Nope.

Vegetarians who eat fish - You are not even fooling yourselves.

The word "hubby" - arrrggghhhh!!!!

Don't even get me started on dirty dirty hippies or people chewing with there mouths open...

What Do You Get The Girl Who Hates Everything?

2008-12-10T17:55:00.000-08:00

With the Holidays around the corner and my birthday only 11 weeks away, I'm sure you are all wondering what to get me. Tough, I know. Show up with too little and risk my wrath, too much and look like a kiss ass. Just kidding, there is no "too much".

Choosing the right gift is important. I have no doubt you have someone in your life who is hard to please, so here are some suggestions.

From lazyboneuk.com, giant plushy microbes.

I already have the Plague, as you know, but the others would be welcome. Stick to the top row if possible. There is nothing more pedestrian than giving someone "the flu".

Vikprjonsdottir.com has some of the most intriguing, yet

repulsive knits I have ever seen. This blanket is much like the

popular "as seen on TV" Snuggie, but obviously twice as good.

I am not sure if your are forced to stare at each other awkwardly across the sofa when you wear it. Maybe that is just an awesome side effect.

Etsy.com - Paraphernalia shop - Sleuth

It's not that I want this.

I NEED it.

It is a necklace AND a disguise.

Seriously.

Give it.

Now.

These knitting needles are gorgeous and lethal, just like me. I know, it seems silly to give me weapons. But just imagine what will happen if you don't. It's better for everyone If I get what I want. Get them now at oaklevelforge.com.

This is a pattern for a fish hat from Knitty.com.

I would like someone in my life who would appreciate this enough to wear it. I will knit some right now. If you love me or fear me, you will wear the one I give you.

This is the best thing I have ever seen.

So there you have it. A few of my favorite things. I feel like Oprah, but fatter, poorer, and less black. Whatever, at least my husband isn't a sissy and my best friend isn't Gail. Boo-ya!

Sweeping Generalizations - Haircut Edition

2008-12-10T07:22:00.000-08:00

They say you can't judge a book by its cover. However, if you read 5 pages and they are all shitty, it's a good bet the rest of the book sucks eggs.

To save you the time and trouble of getting to know people, I offer the following guide to judging people by their haircut.

I'm a Drug Dealer (especially if present with a goatee).

Or I am so white bread that I believe this will give me "cred" on the streets for my terrible music.

These only apply to white guys with dreads.

I am in Beauty School. Also I buy all my clothes at American Apparel, no matter how gay that deep v-neck shirt makes me look. And believe me, that is plenty gay!

I think I am a Hipster. In truth, I am Emo. My best friend is in Beauty School. I like fro-yo and cosmos. I pass out. A lot.

This one is tricky.

I want you to think I am punk. I am not. I have self esteem issues and have to find ways to get attention, just short of hitting the pole. (But I could do that, if you think I'm really pretty enough!) I'd do it for me though. Ya know. for empowerment, like a feminist.

Aren't I tough looking? I cry after sex.

This one can go either way.

I am a fat girl, but maybe you won't notice because my hair is so cute and edgy. Double points if it is also red.

Option 2: I used to be fat and now I am obsessed with Betty Paige and want to look like her. Triple score for black dye job.

I am a nurse or work in a medical office. I play Bunko on Tuesdays. Have you met

my child, er, cat Mr. Binkles?

I was cool in high school. (wasn't I?) I hav

e an ex-wife ( I still love you baby...) and a pack a day habit (Vantage Lights). I like sci-fi movies and anything with Bruce Willis, (especially his music!) I'm a good guy, but I will never be able to hold a conversation with your friends, or a job.

I am a spectacular wife, wonderful friend, and talented knitter. I have a good heart, kind spirit, and generous soul. You are lucky to know me.

So there you go. Hope this guide is helpful in your day-to-day dealings. I, for one, can't wait to meet that stunning creature featured last. Wow.

If you have a question about these or other haircuts, please email me at operachristiana@gmail.com.

Things That Make My Life Harder - Volume 1

2008-12-09T18:58:00.000-08:00

In an effort to catalog the growing list of Things That Make My Life Harder, I begin the list. This is by no means comprehensive or, for that matter, coherent.

1. Poor planning from others regarding butchery and the recovery of said butchery.

2. Weather. All of it.

3. People with a spoiler on their pickup truck. I hate you most.

4. Counting stitches. 1,2,3,shhhhh......grrr.....1,2,3.....

5. Oil changes that are really battery and tire changes also. Stupid cars.

6. People who use the phrase "multinational media conglomerates"

7. Good bread with a crust that is too big and crusty to be enjoyed and impedes the enjoyment of the good bread.

8. Burnt coffee. With grinds in it. Are we barbarians?

9. The Who

10. Fake "New TiVo". You are not TiVo and I know it. You will not fool me.

Now I have to lie down.

All The Girls Hate Her

2008-12-08T17:52:00.000-08:00

I have always liked to think that I am not like most girls. Truth is most girls like to think they are not like most girls.

In fairness, I probably thought I wasn't like most girls, because I just don't like most girls. I grew up fat and smart and asthmatic. Popular girls beat the crap out of each other, you can only imagine how that went for me. They did everything short of holding me down and shitting on my chest. And probably only because they didn't think they could hold me down.

I'd like to say it made it a better person. And it did. Not in a mother Teresa way, full of kindness and patience. But in a "I feed off your sorrow" kind of way. I'm not bitter, I'm just great at being mean. It was a hidden talent, and the bitches I grew up with helped me discover that. Appreciated indeed.

Cut to present day. I get married, learn to cook, knit and perform other house-wifely tasks with the greatest of ease. I am the feminist dream. I have it all. Except girlfriends. And much like the salmon swimming upstream the place of its birth, I seek the company of women. But what kind of women? How can I find other reclusive, opinionated, social outcasts with biting wits? I start a knitting group.

"Why am I doing this?!?" I scream. "I don't even like women." But there I am in a coffee shop, every Tuesday, knitting, bitching about husbands, trading recipes, and being cliche as ever. You become what you hate, they say. The big secret is, I found the other girls who weren't like the other girls. We are loud, bitchy, nerdy and perfect. Suck on that, 6th grade.

Conclusions I Have Come To Today

2008-12-07T20:56:00.000-08:00

1. Beans are not worth it. I won't wait 30 minutes for a table at Houston's and I love Houston's. Why am I spending hours cooking beans? They are not that important to me. They are not any better if i make them from "scratch". I will buy them in can from here forward.

2. Dusting the house is for sucks.

3. I am cold all the time. WebMd lists the following conditions associated with the chills:

Generalized Anxiety Disorder - Nope. Therapist confirms.

Cold exposure- I do not go outdoors.

Lyme Disease - Again, no outdoors.

Tuberculosis - Does Asthma count?

Toxic Shock Syndrome - No. Eww.

Abscess - No. Double ewww.

West Nile Virus - Seriously, I am right in not dealing with nature.

Plague - Really?!?!?

Obviously, I have the Plague. Damn. Probably from being around all that dust.

Day One

2008-12-06T11:07:00.000-08:00

So it turns it that ANYBODY can have a blog. I know, I've read them. Usually I go between two thoughts. "Wow. Really? Huh. " and "If I Meet You I Will Punch You". The latter was not available as a URL.

I read a lot of blogs. My friends, family, random strangers. War and Peace they are not. Thankfully! If I had to read 1,475 pages of a liberal arts major talking as her dog (in early modern English, no less), I might have to end it all right then.

It was suggested I start a blog about the things I hate, a long list indeed. (Including, but not limited to, cats, contemporary gospel, people chewing with their mouths open, W., eggs, uggs, acrylic yarn, boiled custard, and Washington D.C. in the summer.) I might write about the things I love, admittedly a shorter list. (Joe, my family and friends, my dogs, knitting, cooking, and music.)

So hopefully, this blog will be shorter than War and Peace, and not half as dumb as the lonely grad student's.

I do not promise to spell well, nor write well. I do not promise to be nice. I do not promise to update on a regular basis, though I will try. But I do promise to be slightly entertaining. If I am not, suck it up. It's free.