“Princesses aren’t scary” - Ella
Oct 31, 2007
Oct 30, 2007
“…it is based on a trilogy of children's books about killing God. (It is the anti-Narnia). The series is called HIS DARK MATERIALS and it is written by Phillip Pullman of England , a man who has been described as the writer “atheists would have been praying for, if atheists prayed.” It “follows the adventures of a streetwise girl who travels through multiple worlds populated by witches, armor- plated bears and sinister ecclesiastical assassins to defeat the oppressive forces of a senile God.””
My response? So what, its fiction. Also monsters don’t really go to work under children’s beds, jumping out a window and flying away to live next to mermaids doesn’t work even while thinking happy thoughts and singing orphans rarely get adopted by millionaires who employ mystical superheroes from India. Come on people, its entertainment not church and if you are teaching your kids to find spiritual guidance in every movie they see, then you have bigger problems than The Golden Compass.
While I may not bring Ella to see the movie, it’ll have more to do with its actual content not its storyline. She hasn’t seen The Chronicles of Narnia yet ether. It’s rated PG and there’s a particularly freaky scene filled with creepy greasy animals who ritualistically kill someone on screen. It’s a little graphic for my kid who thinks that crossing your eyes and sticking your tongue out at her is a little scary.
Dan and I will probably go see The Golden Compass, and sans graphic violence Ella will get to see it. If we disagree with the message she gets from it, get this… we’ll talk to her about it. (gasp!)
Oct 29, 2007
Attention History teachers! Wanna get teenage girl’s minds on the French and American revolution? Start with this movie.
Oct 27, 2007
A few weeks ago in Oregon, IL Ella and I attended the fall festival parade and then waked down to the court house and looked at all the country crafts, ducks and lambs and cut outs of ladies bending over in the garden, things I normally wouldn't buy. However in the same vein that propels me to always spend at least .25 cents at any garage sale I stop at, I decided to buy a box of honey with the wax comb still in it.
Oh heaven, in a plastic box! At least twice a week now I feel the urge to run a butter knife under hot water until it’s warm enough to slice a row of octagonal honey comb to shovel whole into my mouth, experiencing the instant sugar rush of joy. It’s the organic equivalent of standing in front of the pantry whilst squeezing large sums of syrup into your mouth straight from the top of Mrs. Butterworth’s head (which I may or may not have done before.) But it’s organic so it must be good for me right? It’s like the hippie version of those little wax bottles filled with colored sugar water we used to get at the Park-it Mark-it for a nickel. Only I paid $7.00 for my chunk of sweet sticky liquid filled wax, so maybe that makes it the yuppie version, or maybe the organic suburban mom version, although my child thinks it’s “not very yummy” and she’s rather have a piece of cheese so I suppose it’s just makes it my own weird addiction. Soon I’ll be standing in Farmer Newcomb’s back forty wearing my wedding veil, a snowmobile suit and dishwashing gloves exhaling Newport 100s into his bee boxes trying to score more H.
Oct 26, 2007
Oct 24, 2007
We walked up the rocks and found our seats at the reception just before they wheeled in the racks of clothes. Each table of guests carefully walked to the endless racks of gowns and suits and tuxedos and carefully picked a new garment. The mood was jubilant as everything fit everyone perfectly. Dan and Ella found a tuxedo and a most perfect gold dress both very flattering. My Grandma found a maroon silk and beaded gown that seamed to cinch in just the right places. I looked down to find myself wearing a black thick wool pencil skirt and a pink knit double breasted sweater with a yellow stain on the front. I buttoned it up the other direction so the stain was on the inside and someone walking by commented about how perfectly the outfit suited me.
Next we were dancing and playing cards, and deciding which grotto to visit to order more clams and scallops. We sat at tall tables on tall chairs flipping cards up and pushing chips towards the middle, occasionally pulling some back in, laughing with recognizable strangers while snapping photos. Wine glasses clinking in the background and the warm golden hue of the setting sun against the maroon tones of the room seemed to make the different languages sink deep within the velvet we were sitting on.
In the twilight of the evening we walked back to the seaside. Meandering up pathways elusive and familiar I knew the way home but couldn’t articulate it when trying to hard to think about which way to turn. Down limestone stairs, through a short tunnel under the roadway, back up limestone stairs, out into a memorial field of beautiful green moss with sun bleached headstones jutting up in spiral patterns seeming to point again to the ocean. I had to resort to watching the ocean rise and fall with the waves and letting me feet have their own way to navigate back to the rented cottage.
Then the dream was breaking up into chunks and Ella was saying something about breakfast.
Oct 23, 2007
Though I have lots of work to do today I will slip on Pandora Radio (Thanks KTJ Love this!) and like a modern Disney princess I will boogie while I work and the birds will land in the windowsills and jam out with me and the dog will help me put the toys in the toy box and I will be drawn with flawless skin and an unaturaly almost deformed tiny waist and huge bossom.
…Ok, seriously birds are landing on the windowsill this morning.
Oct 22, 2007
- Sprint PCS The Clear Alternative to Customer Service
- The Pain! The Agony! Sprint Sucks
- Sprint sucks
- SprintBlows.com- Quotes from real SPRINT PCS customers
- Identity leak with Sprint wireless
- Why Sprint-Nextel is losing customers
Oct 21, 2007
Oct 19, 2007
Oct 18, 2007
Sprint Nextel Corporation
Re: New Sprint service
To whom it may concern,
My husband and I ordered a two year contract last week and are experiencing problems with exchanging one of the phones we ordered. I’ve spent countless hours navigating your customer service phone lines, we still have no resolution. The Customer Service Department transfers me over to the Tele Sales Department who transfers me over to the Web Support Department who says I need to speak with someone in Customer Service. Among this circular journey I traveled no less than five time (just this morning) I’ve occasionally taken a detour to Web Sales, Corporate Headquarters, Oder Support and we even took a drive to Sprint Store in the next city over (45 minutes away) on the advice of a representative at National Sales Support. I spent just today from 8am to 1:30pm this afternoon navigating this quagmire and instead opted to contact corporate sales for resolution ultimately putting me in touch with Jeff.
I simply would like to return my KRZR for a Fusic like the one my husband received. The KRZR doesn’t deliver what is promised on the website however my husband and I both really like the Fusic. We would like to keep the contract we signed up for however we expect to be able to successfully exchange equipment for the equipment we choose, especially within the first week of service. Please aid us with this simple exchange or we will regrettably cancel our service and take whatever future business elsewhere as well as encourage all of our friend’s family and coworkers to avoid Sprint/Nextel.
Oct 16, 2007
Winkie “...begins with the capture and wounding by a SWAT team of the eponymous, sentient teddy bear in a backwoods cabin; the team thinks it has captured a mad bomber. In jail, Winkie, who no one denies is a teddy bear, must contend with cruel jailers; his stuttering, court-appointed lawyer named Unwin; the 9,678 counts of everything from treason to witchcraft he's charged with; and the intersection of his life with that of the previous possessor of the cabin, an old humanities professor whose bombs never worked. While marking time, Winkie contemplates his past: his ownership by the Chase family, his loneliness when on a shelf, his magical awakening to life one morning—marked by a bowel movement so lovingly described that it recalls Bloom's in Ulysses. The sections devoted to Winkie's trial is a minor masterpiece of ridiculousness, in which the prosecution's move to end the trial after it has presented its side sounds uncomfortably close to what we read in the newspapers…”
I find this book excruciatingly tragic and lovely. Please, understand that I was a child who named every stuffed animal in my room and made sure each one was kept comfortable and well hugged for the good of the very universe. And as an adult I secretly think that if a sock gets lost in the laundry the unmatched sock is actually sad about the loss of its mate. I know this is borderline OCD or something, but here’s the thing… there are whole religions based on the idea that everything in the world has a soul, so it’s not that weird right? Don’t answer that.
So anyway, today Ella and I went with friends to the Build a Bear Workshop at the mall where Ella and the Bear Lady lovingly placed a tiny electronic “beating heart” inside her bear and filled her with wads of fluffy soft stuffing while making a promise to keep “Brookklyn the Wonder Bear" safe and give her lots of hugs. The fluffy haired grandma that worked at build a bear was so excellent at her story weaving both Ella and I were buying it hook line and sinker (Yes, I can hardly wait for Christmas!) Wide eyed and believing Ella placed her wish for ice cream inside Brookklyn’s back and sealed it up with a quick kiss and more sparkles of belief shining through her eyes. When the Bear Lady looked at me from the corner of her eyes and I nodded, she told Ella she was sure her wish would come true right after dinner, I got choked up. I wondered if she would hug Brookklyn enough. I wondered how long Ella would believe her easy wishes for ice cream would always come true. I wondered if Brooklyn would remember the day she was born like Winkie does.
I want to give the book to the Bear Lady after I finish with it. What would she make of a random mom walking in and handing her a book about a teddy bear arrested for terrorist activity? Would she read it? Would it taint her love for her job? Would she relish it and know she will cry at the end like I know I will? Would my bear “Yogi” recognize me if I found him?
Oct 14, 2007
I’m ordering tickets to the Broadway show Annie tomorrow. Dan said he’d buy if he didn’t have to take us and I took that deal. Ella and I will dress up in something fabulous and go eat someplace equally sparkly and magnificent and then we’ll walk into the “crown jewel of Rockford,” the golden rococo filled palace that is the Coronado and find our way to our red velvet seats hopefully in the first row of the upper balcony and then proceed to argue about sitting still and keeping hands to ourselves and not talking loud and not throwing candy over the railing and not taking your shoes off and not missing the song and not making eight trips to the bathroom and not kicking my seat and not singing “Tomorrow” until after the show is done. It’ll be an amazing girl’s night out and hopefully I’m wrong about half of my predictions.
Our dog threw her back out last night and I had to carry her up the stairs, poor thing. She couldn’t turn left all last night. Ella considers the dog the “last of the family.” When I asked her to explain she exasperatedly informed me that she herself is “The Beginning,” I am “Second,” Dad is “South,” and the dog is “The Last.” That explains the sleeping arrangements we endure, with Ella across the middle of the bed and me next to her, Dan hanging off the side almost falling next to the dog cuddled deep into the dirty clothes pile on the floor. Although the dirty clothes pile is usually pretty cushy, as the dogs rearranges it as needed and as the pile changes. Last night because she threw her back out, I actually fluffed the dirty clothes pile for her and laid a blanket over it creating a nice little stinky bed for the dog. She wagged gratefully before she groaned and walked awkwardly to the right in a circle and plopped down. I think she’s feeling a little better today, I know because she's turning left again.
Oct 11, 2007
Healthy Child says: “Common sunscreen ingredients are suspected or known carcinogens and/or hormone disrupters, including diethanolamine, triethanolamine (DEA, TEA), padimate-o, octyl dimethyl PABA, benzophenone, oxybenzone, homosalate, octyl-methoxycinnamate (octinoxate), salicylates, and parabens.”
So I’ve gotten to thinking about all the things I rub onto my face, makeup has been described by Dr. Sam Epstein, a cancer scientist at the University of Illinois in Chicago as “a witch’s brew of carcinogenic ingredients, Epstein told Marketplace.” See partial list here
Wash it off you say? I’d like to but
Wiki Cancer says: “Dove Beauty Bar: It's 99% water, but watch out for that other 1%. It includes quaternium 15 and formaldehyde, known carcinogens, as well as irritants to the skin, eyes, and mucous membranes.
Johnson's Baby Shampoo: Contains carcinogens quaterium 15, FD&C RED 40, which can cause dermatitis.
Crest Tarter Control Toothpaste: This best selling toothpaste contains saccharin and phenol fluoride.”
It's odd that I've never thought about my pores beyond zits. Of course my skin absorbes what I rub into it! Why wouldn't I care if those things have cancer causing agents and poisons?!
What’s the answer? Well, my mom once told me olive oil was great on your skin and baking soda on your teeth. As far as soap and Ella, I think I’ll just opt for a good long soak in a hot bath and maybe next summer we’ll do a little more research before investing in sunscreen or we’ll just stay in the shade and roll in the mud.
Oct 10, 2007
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Oct 9, 2007
Conspiracy Theorists: Aluminum foil hats, surgical masks, flannel shirts and other survival gear.
Tom-kat: Suit sunglasses and giant smile, couch cushion to jump on, mod dress and robotic smile with several “Help me!” notes to pass to people when Tom isn’t looking.
French Kiss Army: Black and white striped shirts and berets with KISS makeup on.
Sam Adams and St. Pauli Girl: Elaborate expensive costumes and wigs involved here.
We need something that we’ll be comfortable in while sitting on a log next to a bonfire or inside sitting on a couch. Something that isn’t too elaborate or flammable or itchy and easy to slip on and something that we can feel comfortable wearing into the grocery store while we stop and pick up a six pack.
Oct 8, 2007
Oct 5, 2007
Oct 4, 2007
The first is this nifty oversized tennis racket next to a basket ball and a football and what seems to be a pile of peas.
To the left of it is painfully contorted, wild eyed and over zealous horse jumping a hay bale.
and lastly a cute little waterfall slide on the side of the slide are some red… um breasts?
It seems most kids like to climb the slide and play the red bits like bongos and it seems most parents try very hard not to look at them very long.
Oct 3, 2007
Oct 2, 2007
Oct 1, 2007
Burmese monks 'to be sent away'
Thousands of monks detained in Burma's main city of Rangoon will be sent to prisons in the far north of the country, sources have told the BBC.