Sunday, June 29, 2008
Another Day in Captivity
Yesterday I took my parents to the Stevie Wonder concert at Taste of Chicago. Now, I know what you're thinking: that sounds like the worst idea of all time. And let me assure you, it was. There were roughly ten million people at the event, to the extent that the Chicago police decided to close off all access while my sister was on a bathroom trip, leaving her stranded and alone. And apparently the majority of those in attendance understood the term "concert" to mean McGloughlin Group-style discussion session, as the chitter chatter seldom, if ever, stopped. Add it the joys of paying $20 for two tacos and a Diet Pepsi, and you've got another classic family outing.
Of course, Taste wasn't our entire day. We also went to the zoo, where a child smacked me in the face with a balloon and a penguin became enraged and tried to attack me through the glass. Oh, and we visited every last tourist trap in town trying to find a Chicago flag for my mother, who insisted that it "wouldn't be the same" if I found it later and mailed it to her at home.
Maybe the thing is that I just need a new family.
Yesterday I took my parents to the Stevie Wonder concert at Taste of Chicago. Now, I know what you're thinking: that sounds like the worst idea of all time. And let me assure you, it was. There were roughly ten million people at the event, to the extent that the Chicago police decided to close off all access while my sister was on a bathroom trip, leaving her stranded and alone. And apparently the majority of those in attendance understood the term "concert" to mean McGloughlin Group-style discussion session, as the chitter chatter seldom, if ever, stopped. Add it the joys of paying $20 for two tacos and a Diet Pepsi, and you've got another classic family outing.
Of course, Taste wasn't our entire day. We also went to the zoo, where a child smacked me in the face with a balloon and a penguin became enraged and tried to attack me through the glass. Oh, and we visited every last tourist trap in town trying to find a Chicago flag for my mother, who insisted that it "wouldn't be the same" if I found it later and mailed it to her at home.
Maybe the thing is that I just need a new family.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Bleached Out
Yesterday I took my parents to the Cubs game and we sat in the bleachers. Normally, the bleachers are totally awesome because 1) they're within easy heckling distance of the other team's outfielders, 2) they have their own concessions and bathrooms, which don't even require you to pee in a trough, and 3) pretty much everyone there is drunk and in some state of relative undress. But when it is ninety degrees out and the Cubs get completely destroyed for essentially the first time all year, it turns out the bleachers aren't quite as much fun. I got a terrible sunburn on the inside of my arms (?) even though I essentially bathed myself in sunscreen and some drunken Orioles fan (yes, they do exist) more or less assaulted me by the hot pretzel stand. I ended up taking my mother home to nurse her injured knee (see yesterday's Great Navy Pier Caper) during the seventh inning stretch. At least there I could flip back and forth between the game and Reba.
Yesterday I took my parents to the Cubs game and we sat in the bleachers. Normally, the bleachers are totally awesome because 1) they're within easy heckling distance of the other team's outfielders, 2) they have their own concessions and bathrooms, which don't even require you to pee in a trough, and 3) pretty much everyone there is drunk and in some state of relative undress. But when it is ninety degrees out and the Cubs get completely destroyed for essentially the first time all year, it turns out the bleachers aren't quite as much fun. I got a terrible sunburn on the inside of my arms (?) even though I essentially bathed myself in sunscreen and some drunken Orioles fan (yes, they do exist) more or less assaulted me by the hot pretzel stand. I ended up taking my mother home to nurse her injured knee (see yesterday's Great Navy Pier Caper) during the seventh inning stretch. At least there I could flip back and forth between the game and Reba.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Great Shakes
I saw The Comedy of Errors at Chicago Shakespeare Theater last night. This meant that I drove to Navy Pier with my parents, which was certainly not without incident. A seagull pooped on my mom's head and then she slipped on a rock and fell right over on the pavement. I believe the police officer who helped her thought she was on drugs. I had some uncertainty myself.
But the show itself was amazing. I honestly thought I might hate it because they did cute things like setting it in the '40s and adding a new frame story, which typically I despise. (I'm looking at you, Baz Luhrmann.) I have to admit that it worked, though, primarily because Comedy of Errors isn't already four hours long and has a frame story of its own that this could graft onto. Plus the performances were unbelievably great. They always manage to make even some of the lazier passages vivid and contemporary. Although their restrooms get a thumbs down for having only two stalls.
I saw The Comedy of Errors at Chicago Shakespeare Theater last night. This meant that I drove to Navy Pier with my parents, which was certainly not without incident. A seagull pooped on my mom's head and then she slipped on a rock and fell right over on the pavement. I believe the police officer who helped her thought she was on drugs. I had some uncertainty myself.
But the show itself was amazing. I honestly thought I might hate it because they did cute things like setting it in the '40s and adding a new frame story, which typically I despise. (I'm looking at you, Baz Luhrmann.) I have to admit that it worked, though, primarily because Comedy of Errors isn't already four hours long and has a frame story of its own that this could graft onto. Plus the performances were unbelievably great. They always manage to make even some of the lazier passages vivid and contemporary. Although their restrooms get a thumbs down for having only two stalls.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Must See TV
This may be the sort of admission that would disqualify me from running for public office or winning a local Emmy, but I think NBC has some seriously amazing programming going on this summer. To begin with, American Gladiators has returned, and each week they are adding a new event. Now they've got people flying around on bungees trying to throw balls in a basket, people hopping across platforms while gladiators swing at them on ropes, and people coasting around the ceiling on a little track. Plus they are promising us the Return of Atlasphere!! That's right, the one where everyone runs around in ten foot hamster balls. Damn teases probably won't bring it out until the season finale, but still, it's good to have back.
The great thing about American Gladiators is all the amusing slipping, falling, and running into things people do. If that's not the American way, I don't know what is.
Also, NBC is now promising Celebrity Family Feud. The specter of Raven Simone's family trying to determine the most popular answers to a survey is surely the sweetest I can imagine. And with Al Roker to host?!?! Now I will never need to leave my house again.
This may be the sort of admission that would disqualify me from running for public office or winning a local Emmy, but I think NBC has some seriously amazing programming going on this summer. To begin with, American Gladiators has returned, and each week they are adding a new event. Now they've got people flying around on bungees trying to throw balls in a basket, people hopping across platforms while gladiators swing at them on ropes, and people coasting around the ceiling on a little track. Plus they are promising us the Return of Atlasphere!! That's right, the one where everyone runs around in ten foot hamster balls. Damn teases probably won't bring it out until the season finale, but still, it's good to have back.
The great thing about American Gladiators is all the amusing slipping, falling, and running into things people do. If that's not the American way, I don't know what is.
Also, NBC is now promising Celebrity Family Feud. The specter of Raven Simone's family trying to determine the most popular answers to a survey is surely the sweetest I can imagine. And with Al Roker to host?!?! Now I will never need to leave my house again.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Drunk Girls With Cell Phones
As I was escorting a case of Coronas to the South Loop on the el last night, I encountered a group of fun-loving gals in pink Cubs shirts on their way to a party they weren't supposed to be throwing at someone's parents' condo in the Gold Coast. I carefully observed them, trying to figure out which one of them was the Carrie, as they drunkenly bickered about the amazingly complex carry out order they were phoning in. After making the case for the inclusion of some breadsticks, one of them had the following phone conversation:
"Dad. Dad, hey dad. What's up? No, shut up, I'm trying to tell you. Shut up. So you'll never guess who sang the seventh inning stretch at the Cubs game. The Cubs game. Dad, I don't care about stupid class. I'll go next week. Shut up. God, I'm trying to tell you about the seventh inning stretch. It was Kristin's favorite singer in the whole world. She's my friend, dad. My friend, Kristin? From tri-delt? Shut up. God, dad, why won't you just listen? You know what, fuck it, you know what? I'm hanging up on you."
This was closely followed by this conversation:
"Sarah? Hey, Sarah, what's up? We just went to the Cubs game. Yeah. Yeah. Well, we only had four tickets. I didn't even know you wanted to go, okay? Jesus. So you'll never guess what I did afterwards. I just made out with a thirty-year-old guy! I know. Oh my God. I know. What? No, I did call you back. Sarah, I left you three fucking messages the past three days and you never called me back, okay? Never. So don't play that way, okay? You know what? Fuck it. I'm sick of you."
I thought about giving her my number, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.
As I was escorting a case of Coronas to the South Loop on the el last night, I encountered a group of fun-loving gals in pink Cubs shirts on their way to a party they weren't supposed to be throwing at someone's parents' condo in the Gold Coast. I carefully observed them, trying to figure out which one of them was the Carrie, as they drunkenly bickered about the amazingly complex carry out order they were phoning in. After making the case for the inclusion of some breadsticks, one of them had the following phone conversation:
"Dad. Dad, hey dad. What's up? No, shut up, I'm trying to tell you. Shut up. So you'll never guess who sang the seventh inning stretch at the Cubs game. The Cubs game. Dad, I don't care about stupid class. I'll go next week. Shut up. God, I'm trying to tell you about the seventh inning stretch. It was Kristin's favorite singer in the whole world. She's my friend, dad. My friend, Kristin? From tri-delt? Shut up. God, dad, why won't you just listen? You know what, fuck it, you know what? I'm hanging up on you."
This was closely followed by this conversation:
"Sarah? Hey, Sarah, what's up? We just went to the Cubs game. Yeah. Yeah. Well, we only had four tickets. I didn't even know you wanted to go, okay? Jesus. So you'll never guess what I did afterwards. I just made out with a thirty-year-old guy! I know. Oh my God. I know. What? No, I did call you back. Sarah, I left you three fucking messages the past three days and you never called me back, okay? Never. So don't play that way, okay? You know what? Fuck it. I'm sick of you."
I thought about giving her my number, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Facing the Music
So I finally joined Facebook. I kind of hate the idea, but frankly I couldn't deal with the peer pressure any more. It's the same reason I tried those marijuana pills. I guess what really gets me is the fact that Facebook is the exact same thing as Friendster and Myspace, but for some reason more popular now. (Except in the Philippines; I can tell you based on the series of messages I've gotten that Friendster is hot in the Philippines.) So I'll be cutting and pasting my carefully constructed (and utterly uninformative) bio into yet another site this weekend. It's enough to make a person want to find real life friends.
Of course, it is sort of interesting the people you can find on these things, i.e. the intensely Christian girl from your high school who now lists Tila Tequila as a role model and sex as a hobby or the total burnout who now has six kids and heads up the Rotary Club. And I enjoy having people write on my wall (heh heh) as much as the next person. But the man hours involved, oh, the man hours! Maybe I should hire someone to manage my online social life.
So I finally joined Facebook. I kind of hate the idea, but frankly I couldn't deal with the peer pressure any more. It's the same reason I tried those marijuana pills. I guess what really gets me is the fact that Facebook is the exact same thing as Friendster and Myspace, but for some reason more popular now. (Except in the Philippines; I can tell you based on the series of messages I've gotten that Friendster is hot in the Philippines.) So I'll be cutting and pasting my carefully constructed (and utterly uninformative) bio into yet another site this weekend. It's enough to make a person want to find real life friends.
Of course, it is sort of interesting the people you can find on these things, i.e. the intensely Christian girl from your high school who now lists Tila Tequila as a role model and sex as a hobby or the total burnout who now has six kids and heads up the Rotary Club. And I enjoy having people write on my wall (heh heh) as much as the next person. But the man hours involved, oh, the man hours! Maybe I should hire someone to manage my online social life.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Mr. Fix-It
Lately various things in my condo have taken to falling apart. The kitchen closet won't stay closed unless I rubber band the door handles to each other and the front door buzzer emits a high-pitched squeal whenever one attempts to listen to the intercom. Also, the hand towel rack in my bathroom has an amusing habit of falling off the wall whenever anyone employs anything more than a gentle tug. (I like to pretend that this has never happened before and that I am infuriated with the victim for ruining my beautiful home.) For the most part, I ignore these things, as I lack the basic competence to fix them or even pick up the phone and ask someone else to do so.
But last night I actually fixed the handle on my bathroom faucet! All by myself! Recently it had been coming off in my hand during use, which can be less than 100% thrilling. And for some strange reason I decided that 12:30 last night was the best time to make some repairs. I got out my little tool belt (so fetch!) and went at it with a screwdriver (a hammer seemed like overkill). And within half an hour I had fully disassembled and reassembled the thing and got it to function properly! I'm thinking that a TLC show can't help but be in my near future.
Lately various things in my condo have taken to falling apart. The kitchen closet won't stay closed unless I rubber band the door handles to each other and the front door buzzer emits a high-pitched squeal whenever one attempts to listen to the intercom. Also, the hand towel rack in my bathroom has an amusing habit of falling off the wall whenever anyone employs anything more than a gentle tug. (I like to pretend that this has never happened before and that I am infuriated with the victim for ruining my beautiful home.) For the most part, I ignore these things, as I lack the basic competence to fix them or even pick up the phone and ask someone else to do so.
But last night I actually fixed the handle on my bathroom faucet! All by myself! Recently it had been coming off in my hand during use, which can be less than 100% thrilling. And for some strange reason I decided that 12:30 last night was the best time to make some repairs. I got out my little tool belt (so fetch!) and went at it with a screwdriver (a hammer seemed like overkill). And within half an hour I had fully disassembled and reassembled the thing and got it to function properly! I'm thinking that a TLC show can't help but be in my near future.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Status Report
Did you know they still give out the Tony Awards? I turned on the TV and there they were. At least, I assume that's what they were, given the large amount of white people in formal wear. It could also have been the Republican National Convention, I suppose.
It has been a relatively eventful weekend. Friday, I managed to wrench my back while doing a particularly elaborate Comcast On Demand Workout, and I spent much of Saturday lying on various surfaces around my house in an attempt to work out the kinks. I think the kitchen island and I are engaged. Last night, we watched The Orphanage, which I assumed was a Spanish-language sequel to Annie, but which turned out to be a rather sweet little flick about a group of dead children. It's sort of like The Little Rascals, but with additional murder.
Today we celebrated Father's Day the only way we know how, namely with a lengthy phone call in which my mother drowned out all other speakers with a series of views on politics, sports, and the weather. I ran a series of exciting errands designed to prepare my home to be cleaned by a professional tomorrow, and watched parts of the Cubs Game, Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade, Step Up, and Ocean's 13. I think they should all be combined into one fabulous entertainment.
Did you know they still give out the Tony Awards? I turned on the TV and there they were. At least, I assume that's what they were, given the large amount of white people in formal wear. It could also have been the Republican National Convention, I suppose.
It has been a relatively eventful weekend. Friday, I managed to wrench my back while doing a particularly elaborate Comcast On Demand Workout, and I spent much of Saturday lying on various surfaces around my house in an attempt to work out the kinks. I think the kitchen island and I are engaged. Last night, we watched The Orphanage, which I assumed was a Spanish-language sequel to Annie, but which turned out to be a rather sweet little flick about a group of dead children. It's sort of like The Little Rascals, but with additional murder.
Today we celebrated Father's Day the only way we know how, namely with a lengthy phone call in which my mother drowned out all other speakers with a series of views on politics, sports, and the weather. I ran a series of exciting errands designed to prepare my home to be cleaned by a professional tomorrow, and watched parts of the Cubs Game, Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade, Step Up, and Ocean's 13. I think they should all be combined into one fabulous entertainment.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Letters to the Editor
Dear Editor,
Your coverage of the presidential primaries has been sickeningly unfair and biased. Where, for instance, was the information that Hillary Clinton traded sexual favors for Miami Sound Machine albums from the alien overlord Xezu? And notably absent from your many articles on the subject was any mention of Barack Obama’s well-known history of appearing in hot pants at Bennigan’s. Shame on you.
Carol Lewis
Dearborn, MI
Dear Editor,
I believe I was misquoted in last week’s article regarding recent trends in hog farming. Where the article quotes me as saying "You know what we ought to do? Kill every last one of them Italians," it ought to say "I like Christmas."
Trevor Sanders
Davenport, IA
Dear Editor,
On last week’s episode of The Ghost Whisperer starring TV’s Jennifer Love Hewitt, approximately twelve and one half minutes in, as Ms. Love Hewitt was trying to communicate with the ghost of an orphaned teenage gymnast, the outline of Ms. Love Hewitt’s left nipple could clearly be seen pressed against the interior of her sheer white silk blouse. I ask all concerned citizens to contact their legislators in protest of this shameful indecency. Also, do you know when the current season of The Ghost Whisperer will be available on VHS?
Harvey Chamberlain
Clearlake, UT
Dear Editor,
I write to let my fellow citizens know of an important piece of legislation currently pending before the House of Representatives. H.R. 08-5371 will make it a federal crime to openly taunt a mailbox. I urge everyone to support this vital, groundbreaking measure.
Christine Haege
Carrollton, KY
Dear Editor,
Your coverage of the presidential primaries has been sickeningly unfair and biased. Where, for instance, was the information that Hillary Clinton traded sexual favors for Miami Sound Machine albums from the alien overlord Xezu? And notably absent from your many articles on the subject was any mention of Barack Obama’s well-known history of appearing in hot pants at Bennigan’s. Shame on you.
Carol Lewis
Dearborn, MI
Dear Editor,
I believe I was misquoted in last week’s article regarding recent trends in hog farming. Where the article quotes me as saying "You know what we ought to do? Kill every last one of them Italians," it ought to say "I like Christmas."
Trevor Sanders
Davenport, IA
Dear Editor,
On last week’s episode of The Ghost Whisperer starring TV’s Jennifer Love Hewitt, approximately twelve and one half minutes in, as Ms. Love Hewitt was trying to communicate with the ghost of an orphaned teenage gymnast, the outline of Ms. Love Hewitt’s left nipple could clearly be seen pressed against the interior of her sheer white silk blouse. I ask all concerned citizens to contact their legislators in protest of this shameful indecency. Also, do you know when the current season of The Ghost Whisperer will be available on VHS?
Harvey Chamberlain
Clearlake, UT
Dear Editor,
I write to let my fellow citizens know of an important piece of legislation currently pending before the House of Representatives. H.R. 08-5371 will make it a federal crime to openly taunt a mailbox. I urge everyone to support this vital, groundbreaking measure.
Christine Haege
Carrollton, KY
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Purple Prose
So after approximately three months sitting on my kitchen counter, The Color Purple finally made it into my DVD player last night. The results were mixed. I very much enjoyed being reminded how truly fat Oprah Winfrey once was, and I was impressed that Spielberg had not inserted a wide-eyed little boy with daddy issues into the mix. But I felt Whoopi Goldberg's performance lacked the heft and gravity of her later work in pictures such as "Boys on the Side" and "Theodore Rex," and I concluded that two and a half hours was more than I really needed to learn how terrible men are. Also I really wanted Danny Glover to drive a car through something and declare that he's too old for this shit.
My selection of this film, dare I say it, was perhaps an instance of "Netflix Goggles." On more than one occasion I have felt that I really wanted to watch, say, a documentary about Russian typesetters, when I saw it on Netflix, only to realize upon its arrival that I had no desire to see it at all. It is absolutely a significant cross to bear.
So after approximately three months sitting on my kitchen counter, The Color Purple finally made it into my DVD player last night. The results were mixed. I very much enjoyed being reminded how truly fat Oprah Winfrey once was, and I was impressed that Spielberg had not inserted a wide-eyed little boy with daddy issues into the mix. But I felt Whoopi Goldberg's performance lacked the heft and gravity of her later work in pictures such as "Boys on the Side" and "Theodore Rex," and I concluded that two and a half hours was more than I really needed to learn how terrible men are. Also I really wanted Danny Glover to drive a car through something and declare that he's too old for this shit.
My selection of this film, dare I say it, was perhaps an instance of "Netflix Goggles." On more than one occasion I have felt that I really wanted to watch, say, a documentary about Russian typesetters, when I saw it on Netflix, only to realize upon its arrival that I had no desire to see it at all. It is absolutely a significant cross to bear.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Up, Down & Around Town
-- Father's Day. It's just like Mother's Day, but with 25% less effort. Although I'm sure that Old Spice gift set you picked out came right from the heart.
-- Top Chef Chicago. The fix is clearly in when a mean lesbian who managed to ruin rice on two separate occasions makes it to the finals. I'm rooting for Stephanie to win, and then promptly lose five to ten pounds.
-- The Chicago Cubs. It's pretty much unprecedented for them to have the best record in major league baseball. Although they have frequently had the best record in ladies' floor hockey.
-- The Democratic Primaries. They went on way too long, cost a ton of money, and ended in a way that no one found wholly satisfying. Why do I get the feeling Howard Dean will be asked to produce the Oscars next year?
-- The Sex & The City Movie. Spoiler alert! Everyone dies from exposure to anthrax.
-- Father's Day. It's just like Mother's Day, but with 25% less effort. Although I'm sure that Old Spice gift set you picked out came right from the heart.
-- Top Chef Chicago. The fix is clearly in when a mean lesbian who managed to ruin rice on two separate occasions makes it to the finals. I'm rooting for Stephanie to win, and then promptly lose five to ten pounds.
-- The Chicago Cubs. It's pretty much unprecedented for them to have the best record in major league baseball. Although they have frequently had the best record in ladies' floor hockey.
-- The Democratic Primaries. They went on way too long, cost a ton of money, and ended in a way that no one found wholly satisfying. Why do I get the feeling Howard Dean will be asked to produce the Oscars next year?
-- The Sex & The City Movie. Spoiler alert! Everyone dies from exposure to anthrax.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Open Letters to People at my Gym
Dear Guy Who Never Showers After His Workout,
Deodorant is not a substitute for bathing, no matter how vigorously you may apply it. And no, I don't think Axe Body Spray is going to get you laid.
Regards,
Jay
------
Dear Treadmill Class Instructor,
No one is having any trouble hearing you. In fact, Marlee Matlin just called, and she would like for you to keep it down. Also, shouting out commands at people who are running doesn't technically make you an "athlete." So maybe you don't need to wear the sports bra every day.
With Love,
Jay
-----
Dear Lady Carrying Around 2-Pound Weights for Half an Hour,
Olivia Newton John's "Let's Get Physical" was actually not intended as a bona fide exercise program. Although it is cute that you bring your own weights from home. And that they're neon green.
Always,
Jay
-----
Dear Enormous Male Trainers Who Like to Wrestle With One Another,
No, it really doesn't make you look gay. At all. In fact, I think you ought to add a kiddie pool full of vegetable oil to the equation. Hooray for male bonding!
Jay
Dear Guy Who Never Showers After His Workout,
Deodorant is not a substitute for bathing, no matter how vigorously you may apply it. And no, I don't think Axe Body Spray is going to get you laid.
Regards,
Jay
------
Dear Treadmill Class Instructor,
No one is having any trouble hearing you. In fact, Marlee Matlin just called, and she would like for you to keep it down. Also, shouting out commands at people who are running doesn't technically make you an "athlete." So maybe you don't need to wear the sports bra every day.
With Love,
Jay
-----
Dear Lady Carrying Around 2-Pound Weights for Half an Hour,
Olivia Newton John's "Let's Get Physical" was actually not intended as a bona fide exercise program. Although it is cute that you bring your own weights from home. And that they're neon green.
Always,
Jay
-----
Dear Enormous Male Trainers Who Like to Wrestle With One Another,
No, it really doesn't make you look gay. At all. In fact, I think you ought to add a kiddie pool full of vegetable oil to the equation. Hooray for male bonding!
Jay
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Hairy Situation
I got my hair cut tonight. As anyone who has been reading this blog since its inception (or in fact anyone who saw the last post) knows, I have had my fair share of ridiculous haircuts. The uneven bowl cut figured prominently in my childhood, and I did myself no favors in junior high by grabbing a can of Aqua Net and fashioning myself a severe side part. That cut was followed immediately by the floppy bangs so popular with 1990s teen soccer players and lesbians everywhere, and then by a brief period of little or no hair at all. Let me just say that I am pleased with my present folicular situation.
But the problem is the gentleman behind this particular cut. Though gifted with the scissors, he has a bad habit of sharing with me the gory details of his sex life every time I see him. I have to admit that I find it somewhat uncomfortable to hear all about frottage and fisting whilst someone shaves the back of my neck. For one thing, I don't understand half the words I'm hearing. For another, I don't have any particular contribution of my own to make. I mean, what am I going to say? "Man, I totally made out last weekend?"
Ah, the price we pay to look spectacular.
I got my hair cut tonight. As anyone who has been reading this blog since its inception (or in fact anyone who saw the last post) knows, I have had my fair share of ridiculous haircuts. The uneven bowl cut figured prominently in my childhood, and I did myself no favors in junior high by grabbing a can of Aqua Net and fashioning myself a severe side part. That cut was followed immediately by the floppy bangs so popular with 1990s teen soccer players and lesbians everywhere, and then by a brief period of little or no hair at all. Let me just say that I am pleased with my present folicular situation.
But the problem is the gentleman behind this particular cut. Though gifted with the scissors, he has a bad habit of sharing with me the gory details of his sex life every time I see him. I have to admit that I find it somewhat uncomfortable to hear all about frottage and fisting whilst someone shaves the back of my neck. For one thing, I don't understand half the words I'm hearing. For another, I don't have any particular contribution of my own to make. I mean, what am I going to say? "Man, I totally made out last weekend?"
Ah, the price we pay to look spectacular.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Awkward Stages
My sister sent me some photos from when we were kids today. I can only assume she did this to keep me from ever running for public office. My fashions alone have required years of therapy.
This is either my sister or the "Where's the Beef?" lady. Also note my gray athletic socks with contrasting color bands. I wish I still had a pair.
My sister sent me some photos from when we were kids today. I can only assume she did this to keep me from ever running for public office. My fashions alone have required years of therapy.
This is either my sister or the "Where's the Beef?" lady. Also note my gray athletic socks with contrasting color bands. I wish I still had a pair.
The dog actually has a better haircut than I do. And someone has buttoned my shirt all the way up, as though I might escape from it.
If there was any doubt that my parents took us to the beauty school for free haircuts, this should remove it. Also, we were apparently auditioning for Mork & Mindy: The Next Generation.
For your information, I was in a play, if you're one of those people who thinks there needs to be a reason for a person to wear makeup. It also looks like I'm pregnant, and again, the top button is buttoned. It's a good thing the DCFS didn't get their hands on these photos.
