This seems a bit early. And a bit extreme. A little early morning frost? Okay. I can live with that. But this? We just spent three hours working in the yard last Sunday, and now I can't even see the yard . . . .
Saturday, October 29, 2011
It's snowing. On October 29th. Um?
This seems a bit early. And a bit extreme. A little early morning frost? Okay. I can live with that. But this? We just spent three hours working in the yard last Sunday, and now I can't even see the yard . . . .
Friday, October 28, 2011
Boo on you, Shape magazine
In the days before I fell in love with This Old House, Shape was my favorite magazine. I've read it for years, had a subscription a handful of times, and generally enjoyed the content (however repetitive it may - and ultimately, must - be).
Recently, however, magazines like TOH and Better Homes & Gardens and the Woman's Day issues that my mom has finished up with have tended to grab my attention whenever I have a (rare) 15 minutes to sit and enjoy a dozen or so pages. But today I took up the August 2011 issue of Shape (yes, I'm a little behind), and after feeling, well, only vaguely engaged for the first 70 or so pages, I then found myself more than vaguely enraged. Here's why:
I turned to a multi-page article entitled "Look Good for a Lifetime" and immediately recognized the format: it charts changes/issues decade by decade (20s, 30s, etc.) and makes suggestions based on those age-specific issues. This particular article, I quickly learned, took up the subject of skin and how to keep it beautiful through the aging process.
Fair enough.
I was a bit shocked to learn, on the first page, that 20-somethings whose skin is "less radiant" than in previous years (due to decreasing fat stores in the skin) ought to invest in a $100-$300 chemical peel - monthly, no less - but it's a relatively painless and non-invasive procedure and I turned the page to the next decade, expecting something about creams and ointments and maybe an Rx for a product with Retin-a.
Imagine my surprise: women in their 30s are encouraged to have their faces injected with muscle relaxers (e.g., Botox) or "fillers," the second of which requires a painful procedure costing (the first time) upwards of $1000. I flipped the page again, thinking, Surely when I hit the big 3-0 next year, my only options for skincare and improvement are not medical procedures?!
What greeted me for the 40s and 50s were no less ridiculous. For you women in your 40s - hit up the lasers and the "tightening devices" (that sounds to me a little too much like a medieval torture device); those of you in your 50s, I hope you've been saving your dough: Shape magazine suggests you go under the knife (for more than $2500) to have an eye lift or, at the very least, using Latisse to thicken your eyelashes. Forget buying a $12 tube of Max Factor - get a prescription!
Basically, I'm calling bullsh*t.
Hey, I'm all for looking good as you age, and before the attack of rosacea took over my cheeks at age 23 (one of my sisters also has it and it's nearly impossible to get rid of), I had great skin, which I miss on a daily basis. But if looking good and being "confident" (this is the article's word) comes at the cost of, well, a ton of money and a whole lot of pricking and injecting and lasering, I have to wonder what exactly it means to be "confident."
Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I believe in hard work and its benefits. When I work our hard and look good, I feel good and proud and confident. Would I look good if a got lipo? Sure, who wouldn't? But would I feel good about myself? I know I wouldn't, and I don't think that our culture - especially our women and girls - need to be hearing that it's okay to strive to "look good" no matter how you have to fake it, buy it, or suffer physical pain for it.
You've let me down, Shape. You really let me down.
Recently, however, magazines like TOH and Better Homes & Gardens and the Woman's Day issues that my mom has finished up with have tended to grab my attention whenever I have a (rare) 15 minutes to sit and enjoy a dozen or so pages. But today I took up the August 2011 issue of Shape (yes, I'm a little behind), and after feeling, well, only vaguely engaged for the first 70 or so pages, I then found myself more than vaguely enraged. Here's why:
I turned to a multi-page article entitled "Look Good for a Lifetime" and immediately recognized the format: it charts changes/issues decade by decade (20s, 30s, etc.) and makes suggestions based on those age-specific issues. This particular article, I quickly learned, took up the subject of skin and how to keep it beautiful through the aging process.
Fair enough.
I was a bit shocked to learn, on the first page, that 20-somethings whose skin is "less radiant" than in previous years (due to decreasing fat stores in the skin) ought to invest in a $100-$300 chemical peel - monthly, no less - but it's a relatively painless and non-invasive procedure and I turned the page to the next decade, expecting something about creams and ointments and maybe an Rx for a product with Retin-a.
What greeted me for the 40s and 50s were no less ridiculous. For you women in your 40s - hit up the lasers and the "tightening devices" (that sounds to me a little too much like a medieval torture device); those of you in your 50s, I hope you've been saving your dough: Shape magazine suggests you go under the knife (for more than $2500) to have an eye lift or, at the very least, using Latisse to thicken your eyelashes. Forget buying a $12 tube of Max Factor - get a prescription!
 |
| Silly me! I thought this was a good way to enhance your lashes! |
Hey, I'm all for looking good as you age, and before the attack of rosacea took over my cheeks at age 23 (one of my sisters also has it and it's nearly impossible to get rid of), I had great skin, which I miss on a daily basis. But if looking good and being "confident" (this is the article's word) comes at the cost of, well, a ton of money and a whole lot of pricking and injecting and lasering, I have to wonder what exactly it means to be "confident."
Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I believe in hard work and its benefits. When I work our hard and look good, I feel good and proud and confident. Would I look good if a got lipo? Sure, who wouldn't? But would I feel good about myself? I know I wouldn't, and I don't think that our culture - especially our women and girls - need to be hearing that it's okay to strive to "look good" no matter how you have to fake it, buy it, or suffer physical pain for it.
You've let me down, Shape. You really let me down.
On writing, etc.
"Don't throw anything you've written away - cut brutally when you're working, but keep everything because this is the great fact. We are all strangers to ourselves. From palm readers to analysts, we try to find the way to decipher our dreams. Don't try to sort it out - make stones - make clay - a writer is a sculptor who has to make his own rock. I understand now why it's not playwrite but playwright - wright as in wheelwright - boat wright - wright refers to the craft and the craft is the method we use to make a new map to the unconscious" - John Guare, preface to Six Degrees of Separation.
It's finally happened: I'm a published fiction writer. As of earlier this week. Still waiting for the contributor's copies to arrive in the mail (maybe Monday?!), but I've seen the back cover with my name on it online, and it's an unreal feeling. (Brad printed out the front and back cover for his bulletin board at work - what a cutie.) I'm 29 years old, and I've been writing stories since I knew how to write. So this is what it feels like to, well, achieve something you've dreamed for years of achieving. Hmmmm, I like it.
Also awesome is the fact that my story appears in the same issue as a poem from a National Book Award-winning poet - yi-kes!
It's finally happened: I'm a published fiction writer. As of earlier this week. Still waiting for the contributor's copies to arrive in the mail (maybe Monday?!), but I've seen the back cover with my name on it online, and it's an unreal feeling. (Brad printed out the front and back cover for his bulletin board at work - what a cutie.) I'm 29 years old, and I've been writing stories since I knew how to write. So this is what it feels like to, well, achieve something you've dreamed for years of achieving. Hmmmm, I like it.
Also awesome is the fact that my story appears in the same issue as a poem from a National Book Award-winning poet - yi-kes!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
It's coming down
I'm talking about the wallpaper. The hideous, hideous wallpaper in the upstairs hall and along the stairs.
But there's more to this:
Brad and I are the black sheep of, well, not exactly the neighborhood (that title goes to a lot of other people before it goes to us - like the family with the giant camper parked in the driveway in front of their house 6 months out of the year), but we are definitely the black sheep of the 3 or 4 houses on either side and across the street.
Meaning: Brad hasn't cut the grass (or dealt with the accummulated leaves) in three weeks; we haven't trimmed a shrub since, um, May; the weeds have been growing unfettered since early August; etc. etc. etc. So, we're slackers. I don't deny it. But it's not that bad and our next door neighbors (who we love) aren't too many steps behind us.
One of our neighbors, Dale, however, has an uncanny knack for repeatedly asking if Brad's going to cut the grass "today." And he asks this almost every time we see him. To be fair, he's a wonderful, helpful neighbor, and he and his dad are very generous with us, but when I'm sprinting into my house from the car to avoid him asking me for the fourth time in a week if Brad's going to cut the grass today, it's a problem.
And then yesterday happens. He'd already accosted me on my way in from the chiropractor around 11:30. Then, circa 2:00, the doorbell rings. I answer it. And he says, "Hi, I just wanted to see if you wanted me to help Brad with the leaves." My head nearly exploded. I nicely said, "No, he's going to take care of it tomorrow. Thanks though," and that was that.
Except then I shut the door and started ripping off the wall paper with my fingernails (the ugly crap's got to go!) to expel my frustration. Brad was very apologetic that he hadn't done the grass sooner which made this whole situation possible, but my irritation is not at him; neighbors need to mind their own damn business. I don't go across the street and say, "I find your siding to be rather an ugly color. Are you changing that today?" do I?
Anyway, it's obvious I'm irked - especially since today was already designated "Get the Yard Looking Presentable and Ready for Winter Day" - and now I've started this wallpaper project that's going to take forever to finish. But, hey, maybe when the walls are bare, the horrible green and pink is gone, and we're about to start painting a lovely color, I can go over to Dale and say, Thanks.
But there's more to this:
Brad and I are the black sheep of, well, not exactly the neighborhood (that title goes to a lot of other people before it goes to us - like the family with the giant camper parked in the driveway in front of their house 6 months out of the year), but we are definitely the black sheep of the 3 or 4 houses on either side and across the street.
Meaning: Brad hasn't cut the grass (or dealt with the accummulated leaves) in three weeks; we haven't trimmed a shrub since, um, May; the weeds have been growing unfettered since early August; etc. etc. etc. So, we're slackers. I don't deny it. But it's not that bad and our next door neighbors (who we love) aren't too many steps behind us.
One of our neighbors, Dale, however, has an uncanny knack for repeatedly asking if Brad's going to cut the grass "today." And he asks this almost every time we see him. To be fair, he's a wonderful, helpful neighbor, and he and his dad are very generous with us, but when I'm sprinting into my house from the car to avoid him asking me for the fourth time in a week if Brad's going to cut the grass today, it's a problem.
And then yesterday happens. He'd already accosted me on my way in from the chiropractor around 11:30. Then, circa 2:00, the doorbell rings. I answer it. And he says, "Hi, I just wanted to see if you wanted me to help Brad with the leaves." My head nearly exploded. I nicely said, "No, he's going to take care of it tomorrow. Thanks though," and that was that.
Except then I shut the door and started ripping off the wall paper with my fingernails (the ugly crap's got to go!) to expel my frustration. Brad was very apologetic that he hadn't done the grass sooner which made this whole situation possible, but my irritation is not at him; neighbors need to mind their own damn business. I don't go across the street and say, "I find your siding to be rather an ugly color. Are you changing that today?" do I?
Anyway, it's obvious I'm irked - especially since today was already designated "Get the Yard Looking Presentable and Ready for Winter Day" - and now I've started this wallpaper project that's going to take forever to finish. But, hey, maybe when the walls are bare, the horrible green and pink is gone, and we're about to start painting a lovely color, I can go over to Dale and say, Thanks.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Philosoraptor says . . .
Courtesy of Brad, courtesy of the Philosoraptor - The Philosophy of a Dirty Reptile Mind App for the iPad 2, I've come across this hilarious little piece of brilliance:
"If a man speaks his mind in a forest and no woman is around to hear it . . . Is he still wrong?"
Surely the answer is yes. :)
"If a man speaks his mind in a forest and no woman is around to hear it . . . Is he still wrong?"
Surely the answer is yes. :)
The Friday 4: Tacky Trends
Okay, so they're not really trends in the usual sense, but I really liked the alliteration. Whether I'm witnessing these things or just hearing about them, I find them to be unacceptably ick and surely I'm not just being a prude (?).
4. Leaving up outdoor Christmas decorations year-round
I will admit it: I've got a thing for interior Christmas decorations, namely the tree. In fact, I just asked Brad the other day if we could put up the tree. His response? "It's a little early." He's probably right - especially since we'll likely have it up from after Thanksgiving till March.
That said, my family and friends are the only ones who have to suffer my out-of-season indoor Christmas decorations, whereas leaving up your blinking lights and icicles 365 days a year affects not only your neighbors but all passersby. It's jarring and confusing to those innocent bystanders, and it's just plain laziness on the part of the offenders. Take the darn decorations down, you tacksters; take them down.
3. Having a "sprinkle"
That is, a smaller baby shower for a second (or third, or fourth) child.
I never even heard of such a ludicrous thing until Amanda got invited to one (and then another and another and . . . ). I'm sorry, but you had your shower for your first child - and if you didn't, sorry, but the time has passed. Suck it up and buy what you need yourself. Your good friends and close family members will likely shower you and your little one with presents when the big day arrives anyway. Why should people, many of whom dropped $50+ on you the first time around, be expected to do so again?
Nope. Sorry. It's tack-ay.
2. Parking on your lawn
Really? Is your driveway so short, your garage so crowded, your street so narrow, that the only place you could feasibly park was in the grass? Cars, however nice or small or shiny or whatever they may be, are not lawn decorations. They are means of transportation, and last I checked, the appropriate repository for means of transportation not currently in use is not the front yard.
Unless you're living out in the wilderness (Shannon, this means you), you've got neighbors who have to look at that car on your lawn. So get the keys, turn the thing on, and move it somewhere else - preferably to a paved surface.
1. Wedding shower without the wedding
No, I'm not referring to when someone has a shower and then the wedding doesn't happen. I'm talking about when a couple has a wedding in an exotic location, or maybe even a courthouse ceremony, and no one is invited - but the bride-to-be also has a shower to which everyone is invited.
Look: most people, myself included, hate going to weddings and hate going to showers, too. They're tedious, eat the entire day, and after about the second one, start to seem inane and identical to one another.
But we nevertheless attend, when we can't come up with a good excuse to get out of them, b/c, well, we have to. The wedding deal is "I give you $/a present and you feed me and provide me with terrible music for 4 or so hours." The wedding shower deal is "I give you more $/another present and you feed me probably really bad food and we play dumb games for 2+ hours in anticipation of my giving you $/a present and you feeding me and providing me with terrible music for 4 or so hours." The wedding, as you see, is crucial to the shower logic.
Everybody likes presents. It's as natural to human beings as breathing air and criticizing others. But if you're not wasting your money throwing a big bash for other people to not really enjoy (I do so love mocking the wedding industry), then it's not right to ask them to come on over and give you some stuff. To do so takes the tacky cake.
4. Leaving up outdoor Christmas decorations year-round
I will admit it: I've got a thing for interior Christmas decorations, namely the tree. In fact, I just asked Brad the other day if we could put up the tree. His response? "It's a little early." He's probably right - especially since we'll likely have it up from after Thanksgiving till March.
 |
| Your house should not look like this in March. |
3. Having a "sprinkle"
That is, a smaller baby shower for a second (or third, or fourth) child.
I never even heard of such a ludicrous thing until Amanda got invited to one (and then another and another and . . . ). I'm sorry, but you had your shower for your first child - and if you didn't, sorry, but the time has passed. Suck it up and buy what you need yourself. Your good friends and close family members will likely shower you and your little one with presents when the big day arrives anyway. Why should people, many of whom dropped $50+ on you the first time around, be expected to do so again?
Nope. Sorry. It's tack-ay.
2. Parking on your lawn
 |
| Veto. Veto. Veto. |
Unless you're living out in the wilderness (Shannon, this means you), you've got neighbors who have to look at that car on your lawn. So get the keys, turn the thing on, and move it somewhere else - preferably to a paved surface.
1. Wedding shower without the wedding
No, I'm not referring to when someone has a shower and then the wedding doesn't happen. I'm talking about when a couple has a wedding in an exotic location, or maybe even a courthouse ceremony, and no one is invited - but the bride-to-be also has a shower to which everyone is invited.
Look: most people, myself included, hate going to weddings and hate going to showers, too. They're tedious, eat the entire day, and after about the second one, start to seem inane and identical to one another.
 |
| If you're not having this, don't have a shower. |
Everybody likes presents. It's as natural to human beings as breathing air and criticizing others. But if you're not wasting your money throwing a big bash for other people to not really enjoy (I do so love mocking the wedding industry), then it's not right to ask them to come on over and give you some stuff. To do so takes the tacky cake.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Oh, look! It's new!
My blog look, that is. No, it's not super fancy-shmancy, and I haven't even changed my picture (how boring I am!), but it's fall and this is a fall-ish look, so it's fun and seasonally appropriate, if I do say so myself.
I mean, there's orange, and other than brown/tan/caramel, I don't know what's more fall than the color orange. You got your orange-y leaves on the ground. You got your obviously orange pumpkins doing their thing. You got your sort-of-orangish-if-you-squint-your-eyes cider. (Speaking of, I just had some delicious cider from Trader Joe's at school yesterday, and boy does it scream, "Fall's here!" Which is interesting if you don't usually think of beverages as talking, let alone screaming.)
And I'm sure there are other orange things that just aren't coming to mind. Hardy mums? Candy corn?
Anyway, enjoy fall while it lasts. It's my favorite season, and maybe yours, too, but I feel like it keeps getting shorter and shorter over the years. Like, we only have truly fall weather (45-65 degrees, some wind, chilly but not miserable) for a month and a half at most. Then it's into freezing town, at least for us Pixburghers . . . So, I'm eating it up while it's here!
I mean, there's orange, and other than brown/tan/caramel, I don't know what's more fall than the color orange. You got your orange-y leaves on the ground. You got your obviously orange pumpkins doing their thing. You got your sort-of-orangish-if-you-squint-your-eyes cider. (Speaking of, I just had some delicious cider from Trader Joe's at school yesterday, and boy does it scream, "Fall's here!" Which is interesting if you don't usually think of beverages as talking, let alone screaming.)
And I'm sure there are other orange things that just aren't coming to mind. Hardy mums? Candy corn?
Anyway, enjoy fall while it lasts. It's my favorite season, and maybe yours, too, but I feel like it keeps getting shorter and shorter over the years. Like, we only have truly fall weather (45-65 degrees, some wind, chilly but not miserable) for a month and a half at most. Then it's into freezing town, at least for us Pixburghers . . . So, I'm eating it up while it's here!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)