For you: Truvia Christmas tree.
How many people would create a Christmas tree out of the dregs of Truvia in a glass and take a picture of it for you?
Because that's what life is. Unexpectedly beautiful. And residuey (residewy?). And often requires scrubbing.
15 November 2010
06 November 2010
Are you my shweetie pie? My pookie-ookums? My gweat big bwog weaduh?*
My father used to laugh about a married couple he knew and imitate the wife calling her husband "Shnookles" in a whiny voice.... "But, Shnooooklessss..."
I'm not a fan of the baby talk. Not with sweethearts. Not even with babies.
I can remember a coworker bringing his toddler in to the office one day and talking to her in a ridiculously loud, repetitive, and silly voice of the "WHO'S DADDY'S GWEAT BIG GIRL? YOU ARE! YESH YOU ARE, WOOGUMS! YESH, YOU ARE!!" variety. Yeech. It's the kind of thing where you wish the child would haul off and bitch slap the father.
I can't imagine that this kind of patterning helps with the child's speech development. And I find that loud parents beget loud children. And, nobody wants that. But I imagine when you have a small child you have to find something to do to entertain yourself.
A lot of people drop into baby talk with their animals and, 'though still goofy, I find this slightly more tolerable. With babies and with animals, at least one can make the case that the change in voice might be getting the baby's or animal's attention.
But, enlighten me: Why do adults do this with each other? Do you do this? Do you know sweethearts that do this in front of you? Are speech impediments way sexy?
* Well, are you?
03 November 2010
So, yeah, I voted. And the person I voted for won. I'm totally taking credit for that. *insert Rocky theme here* *dances around with fists raised*
Sadly, I could not vote in every state in the nation. Let's just say that, overall, and I hope I'm not being too analytical here, I found the broader election results "poopy." Yeah, "poopy" covers it.
Anyway, I got to thinking about a campaign commercial from years ago for a county councilman who was running for re-election. The commercial tells a story/endorsement in the voice of a citizen. The citizen talks about calling the councilman's office on a weekend to report that the trash people have left a mess and ask if something can be done. The citizen expresses his shock when, not only does someone promptly show up to pick up the trash strewn on his lawn, but it is none other than the councilman, himself, picking it up. This was the reason that the citizen was going to vote to re-elect the councilman.
First off, +5 points to the councilman for fixing the problem and doing it quickly.
Second, -2 points that the councilman had to do it himself. What kind of effective politician doesn't have staff to call on to solve problems?
Third, -25 points to the citizen for bothering the councilman because there was trash on his lawn. Why not call the trash collection people? Or write it off as the bummer it is and pick up the damn trash yourself?
All this got me thinking (anything to avoid work!)... I've signed petitions and sent emails to representatives to express my desire for them to take action on important causes. I've never contacted one to solve a problem that I'm having personally.
Which leads me to the question du jour: Would you call your elected representative (at any level) to solve a problem that affects you and nobody else?
02 November 2010
[A few of the thousands of signs, and me, with mine.]
Seven Things I learned at the Rally to Restore Sanity:
1. Cell phones only work when 200,000 people aren't trying to use them simultaneously in the same location. Note to self: Learn smoke signals for the apocalypse.
Although, we had made arrangements to meet friends at the rally via cell phone, our phones were not working at the rally. Maybe because everyone at the rally was trying to text/call/update their Facebook status simultaneously. My lovely droid was useless except as a camera/watch. We had to get about five blocks from the rally before we could start to use our phones and, then, it was still very spotty. So, I didn't get to see some friends I'd planned to see but I did run into another friend who I didn't even know was planning to go. So, yay, for that!
2. A rally crowd will sloooowly let you out but they will not let you back in.
At some point you have to go to the bathroom. Even if it's to a port-o-john. You will find the sea of humanity that just a few moments ago held a very small spot in reserve for you, is on that spot quicker than Charlie Sheen is on a hooker.
3. Using a port-o-john? Icky. Using a port-o-john when someone decides to climb on top of it? Scary.
Oh, yes, people! These port-o-johns, with their fancy extra doodads like toilet paper (huzzah!) and hand sanitizer, had white plastic tops that let some level of light in. They looked pretty flimsy to me and felt even flimsier as someone climbed up there. I reeeeeaally didn't want someone cannonballing into my lap.
4. Sometimes leaving a rally is more crowded than being at the rally.
As crowded as the rally was, it wasn't until we were trying to leave that we understood just how crowded it could get. It is a very strange feeling to see no space anywhere--just people in all directions, as far as the eye can see. Like being in a packed elevator but inching forward... for miles.
5. Standing in one spot for hours is much harder on the feet than moving for the same number of hours.
And it doesn't get any easier when the 9 inches of precious space you have in front of you is periodically invaded by the chick in front of you who insists on doing a reverse head butt every time she laughs.
6. Having a sign at a rally is great--for the first 30 minutes.
After that, it's just dead weight with dangerous points.
7. It was still totally worth it.
Stewart, Colbert, Mavis Staples, Yusaf Islam, Ozzie, The Roots, Father Guido Sarducci, John Legend, Cheryl Crow, and on and on. It was a great party!
Plus, one of my favorite moments of the day came before the rally, riding on the Metro. We got on at one end of a Metro line so the four of us had seats. By the third stop, the train was FULL but we kept going and we kept stopping at each station and people kept trying to get on. The Metro announcer was getting more and more agitated with each stop... "Do NOT overcrowd the train! DO NOT overcrowd the train! If you lean against the doors, the doors will malfunction! If you try to force the doors they will MALFUNCTION! Do NOT overcrowd the train!" and so on. After the fifth tirade like this, someone in our car pretended to be the announcer, in full parent mode, "I will TURN THIS TRAIN AROUND!"