Published March 30, 2007
Do you know what puts the “happy” in a “happy” meal…. the dang toy. Are you people on drugs? Can we chat for a minute?
These are supposed to be “HAPPY” meals. Not “CREEPY” meals. If children open up their little paper bags and pull out their prize only to yell “What the hell is this?” there is probably something wrong.
Problem #1… Wizard of Oz. A story which, I admit, I have a hard time figuring out. I’m sure it has its charms. But, think about it… a young girl and her dog, travelling alone in a strange land, killing witches, befriending the likes of a living scarecrow with no brain… it’s all just wrong. What ever possessed you to think kids would come clamouring to collect the entire series of characters from a story most of them probably haven’t seen and some parents wouldn’t let them watch?
Problem #2 – “Madame Alexander” dolls. First, her name sounds like a prostitute. So let’s slap that on a kid’s toy, shall we? Second, dolls which do nothing but have those blinky eyes are just freaking creepy. It doesn’t matter if you put her in a pink skirt and call her “Glinda the Good Witch”… she’s still freaking creepy! Exhibit A:
“Doesn’t she look fun?! Look, honey! A doll with bad hair and little blinky eyes! You lucky girl!”
Oh dear G*d… do you know what I just realized??? Do you see the resemblance?
That’s Gilda on the left, and me as a child on the right. Same hair (particularly the bangs). We both have eyes that blink….
I know I’m going to have trouble sleeping after this.
Published March 28, 2007
It's All About Me
I have not posted in a couple of days as my head is apparently having a sinus party that goes all day and all night. Of course, I have a paper to write for next week, so I feel like crap. I would describe my illness to you here in great detail, but am not prone to writing horror. Why is it that I am never sick when I have no deadlines, and always, it seems, when time is of the essence?
Anyway… I’ve not been languishing around with an empty mind to go with my full sinuses. I’ve been pondering again. Now that typically means either I am deciding again that my life is not where I want it to be, or I’ve gone off on another irrelavent rant about something. In this case it is the former. Remember when I pondered being a passenger in one’s own life, and thought maybe one needed at least a little bit of that? I’ve been thinking about that lately, and I am not at all happy with the current state of things in the life of Sock. I’m a passenger. Without a destination. Or a map. Since life took a tiny detour from self-employment, I have no clue what I want to be doing (though fairly clear impressions of what I don’t want to be doing), no clue how I plan to get there, or what I want to see on the way. I am reminded of that Cheshire Cat in Alice and Wonderland:
“… thought Alice, and she went on. “Would you tell me, please, which way
I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.
“I don’t much care where –” said Alice.
“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.
“– so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation.
“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.”
Do you think it’s odd that I take some comfort in that? That if I only walk long enough I’ll get somewhere eventually?
I’ve also been wondering if my issue is the fact that I have no map… or that I live in a place with so few roads.
If only one could type “Sock Girl’s Life” into Mapquest and get directions.
For now, it’s a matter of staying on cruise control and just watching for signs. Perhaps with some more sleep, and a few more days of antibiotics both my sinuses and the view from the windshield will become clearer. I live in hope.
Published March 21, 2007
I’m woefully behind in posting my list of truths, but the idea was lovingly borrowed from Alto2. It has taken me quite a while to come up with a list! Nonetheless, here it is…
1. You will be most inspired to write/create when you have the least time to do so.
2. There is no real male equivalent to “the granny pantie.” Despite the fact that I’m sure males of past generations probably wore ugly underwear just as often as the women, there does not seem to be a contemporary equivalent of undergarments held in low esteem.
3. The same children who cannot be awakened on a school day will rise on their own at dawn if it is a school holiday.
4. The drive-thru line takes at least 5 minutes longer than you actually have.
5. Drive-thru service will never tell you your order will be delayed until they have your money and you are at the pick up window.
6. The chance of getting a run in your stockings increases with the importance of people at the meeting you will attend wearing those stockings.
7. Similarly, “good hair days” invariably occur on days when you have no place to go and no people to see.
8. The course you enroll in believing it will be easy will actually be your undoing. (Yes, I have yet another Spanish test tonight)
9. There is no Trash Fairy. If a bag of garbage is left on the deck, no fairy will arrive to carry it across the yard to the trash can. (Please feel free to inform my family of this particular truth.)
10. Thinking of 10 incontrovertible truths is really hard!
Published March 9, 2007
Now yes… I did know we would need oil soon. But no… I did not go down to the basement to check. It’s icky down there. Damp, and clay, and cold, and dark. And, as fates would have it, at some point in the wee hours of the morning we ran out of oil. Again. I know this because I was woken by Husband shivering and tossing and shivering and tossing. The sound of the furnace hummm was not to be heard. The sound of Husband grumbling to himself was quite distinctive.
So, I got up (as clearly I wasn’t going to be able to sleep with all the tossing and shivering), vainly tapped the thermostat knowing it was fruitless, put more blankets on the girls, dug out the little microheater and turned on the kitchen electric heater, cursed the fact I didn’t have an extension cord to reach the living room, put on a sweater, and went back to bed. We do have another electric heater, but it blows fuses so we can’t use it. The only room we seem to be able to run one in situations like these is the kitchen, at the opposite end of the house to the living room.
Interestingly, we are finding that shivering is good for creativity. So far this morning we’ve come up with ideas for inventions that will chime when the oil tank is getting low, heaters for toilet seats, and a miriad of other ideas to warm bits from the toes to the nose.
So, while the day is off to a flying start, at least the brain is ticking. Now if I could think of an invention to get those kids out of those snug beds. Yep. This will be fun.