I couldn't be a cat the an annual Halloween party because it would be a semi-repeat (3 years ago I was kitty litter - dressed as a cat with trash glued all over me, best costume ever). Aside from the cat paraphernalia, I had some fishnet stockings, a cape, blue leggings, some pleather disaster from when I was younger, thinner, and dumber, and some wings. Needless to say, it doesn't add up to much. I figured that with the black pants and black shirt that I had, I could head to a costume store and get some sort of props to create a cheap and easy costume.
I did find cheap and easy costumes, but not in the sense I meant. If you want to buy a pre-made costume that you don't have to put any effort in, you can choose between a number of the different flavored sluts. Why be just a bunny when you can be a Playboy Bunny and wear a little black bathing suit? You want to be a mermaid, perfect, just buy this bra and underwear and where this shimmery wrap around your waist! To be sure you are appropriate for children, you can pick Disney and other cartoon character costumes that could fit in the palm of your hand.
The worst part of the whole Halloween tramp parade, is the fact that I know very few people my age that are wearing these costumes, so who is? Teenagers! If the skirt in the "teen costumes" isn't quite short enough (and believe me, it's already plenty short enough) you can go to the next aisle and get the same costume with a shorter skirt and lower neckline!
Before I went with the assumption that "costumes didn't used to be like that," I conferred with some people older than me - I may have not noticed now slutty they really were when I was younger - but they confirmed my assumption. What the heck is going on here? I did see an article in the Globe last week addressing the new trend in disgust, so that gave me a little bit of home for humanity.
Monday, November 3, 2008
The Daily High School Reunion
Every sitcom known to man has the token "high school reunion episode." The possible situations are the man that wants to show off his wife, the girl that was a nerd in school and is now perfect, or a combination of the two. Any was you slice it, it's not usually an enjoyable evening for the character attending. I think it's fair to say that most people have a certain apprehension surrounding the impending event. I graduated high school in 2001, so I'm still a few years away from my 10-year reunion, but with the advent of Myspace, I can experience it every time I log on.
Two things are certain: that everyone has a different life plan, a different pace, a different background, and different priorities and that human nature compels us to compare ourselves with everyone we come across. Enter Myspace.
In the past, there has been that one night, the high school reunion, when you get to hear what everyone else is doing with their lives: they have a wonderful husband, a beautiful baby, they live in a fabulous house (that they just remodeled the kitchen in), and they are both gainfully employed as vice whatevers and senior blah blah blahs. If you don't have the same story to offer back, you begin feel yourself shrink to a particle of dust into the overpriced shoes that you bought for the evening. Wonderful. Now, however, you can log onto Myspace and within 10 minutes see the wedding pictures, baby pictures, and home pictures of 20 people your age. Fabulous!
It's even so common that we joke about it - "don't go on Myspace, she just posted her wedding pictures" or "I just saw on Myspace that she bought a HUGE house." I think I hate Myspace.
Although it's gruelling and terrible, I think that it has helped me realize that you just can't compare yourself to people. In reality, the only thing that relates me to them is our ages and where we went to high school. It's like comparing a stroller and a BMW because they both have 4 wheels.
I think I'll be pretty prepared for that night in 2011.
Two things are certain: that everyone has a different life plan, a different pace, a different background, and different priorities and that human nature compels us to compare ourselves with everyone we come across. Enter Myspace.
In the past, there has been that one night, the high school reunion, when you get to hear what everyone else is doing with their lives: they have a wonderful husband, a beautiful baby, they live in a fabulous house (that they just remodeled the kitchen in), and they are both gainfully employed as vice whatevers and senior blah blah blahs. If you don't have the same story to offer back, you begin feel yourself shrink to a particle of dust into the overpriced shoes that you bought for the evening. Wonderful. Now, however, you can log onto Myspace and within 10 minutes see the wedding pictures, baby pictures, and home pictures of 20 people your age. Fabulous!
It's even so common that we joke about it - "don't go on Myspace, she just posted her wedding pictures" or "I just saw on Myspace that she bought a HUGE house." I think I hate Myspace.
Although it's gruelling and terrible, I think that it has helped me realize that you just can't compare yourself to people. In reality, the only thing that relates me to them is our ages and where we went to high school. It's like comparing a stroller and a BMW because they both have 4 wheels.
I think I'll be pretty prepared for that night in 2011.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Grammar Rocks
"Don't they teach grammar in school anymore?" I think I can safely say that my grandma has made that comment about 14,000 times in my life. Is usually follows the following dialogue:
"Me and Robin are going to the mall."
"You and WHO???"
"Me and Robin."
"You are WHO???"
"Oh, Robin and I."
I do not think that they omit grammar altogether, but I would not be surprised if it is given only a quarter of the attention that my grandmother, and even my mother, had in school. I vaguely remember our 7th and 8th grade writing teacher making us grammatically correct a sentence every once in a while in Writing class, but that is as much as I can recollect.
My mom has said in the past that grammar and writing fascinate her. It was not until very recently that I understood what she was talking about. Isn't it fascinating when you watch the Discovery Channel and learn something new about a frog in the Amazon? Isn't it exciting when you learn about a war that your grandfather has been referring to for years? Don't you even get a little gitty when you find a new button on your cars dashboard or a new function that a computer program can do? Then why, oh why, could we not care less about the mechanics and functions of the language that we use every second of our waking lives?
I may be getting slightly too emotional about all of this, but it is still a new thought in my head. I wouldn't say that trying to decide whether a sentence needs a comma, semi-colon, or dash is as exhilarating as picking out a new piece of jewelry, but it really is pretty exciting when you realize that you picked the right one.
I think everyone will agree that you can definitely tell when you are reading a well-written document. Sadly enough, it is the sight of the appropriate dashes and semi-colons in the work that makes us think the person really knew what they were doing. It should make us want to mimic the act and appropriately use them in our writing! I think that it more frequently just makes us think that their talent it more than we are capable of.
In any event, personally, I am going to make an effort to understand and use those flashy little semi-colons when I can!
"Me and Robin are going to the mall."
"You and WHO???"
"Me and Robin."
"You are WHO???"
"Oh, Robin and I."
I do not think that they omit grammar altogether, but I would not be surprised if it is given only a quarter of the attention that my grandmother, and even my mother, had in school. I vaguely remember our 7th and 8th grade writing teacher making us grammatically correct a sentence every once in a while in Writing class, but that is as much as I can recollect.
My mom has said in the past that grammar and writing fascinate her. It was not until very recently that I understood what she was talking about. Isn't it fascinating when you watch the Discovery Channel and learn something new about a frog in the Amazon? Isn't it exciting when you learn about a war that your grandfather has been referring to for years? Don't you even get a little gitty when you find a new button on your cars dashboard or a new function that a computer program can do? Then why, oh why, could we not care less about the mechanics and functions of the language that we use every second of our waking lives?
I may be getting slightly too emotional about all of this, but it is still a new thought in my head. I wouldn't say that trying to decide whether a sentence needs a comma, semi-colon, or dash is as exhilarating as picking out a new piece of jewelry, but it really is pretty exciting when you realize that you picked the right one.
I think everyone will agree that you can definitely tell when you are reading a well-written document. Sadly enough, it is the sight of the appropriate dashes and semi-colons in the work that makes us think the person really knew what they were doing. It should make us want to mimic the act and appropriately use them in our writing! I think that it more frequently just makes us think that their talent it more than we are capable of.
In any event, personally, I am going to make an effort to understand and use those flashy little semi-colons when I can!
Did you know that "gitty" is not a real word?? Spell-checker caught it and when I searched on Google, it came up in Urban Dictionary (where you would be lucky enough to find "junk in the trunk" and "shizzle.")
Stupid HTML
Why in the world would the two spaces that you put after a period mysteriously turn into out space when it is posted in HTML? Way to go programmers.
Cell Phone Etiquette
1. Do not walk and text. The people behind you are likely to step on your heels or flat out run you over.
2. Do not walk up to the counter at a store on your cell phone. It is just plain rude.
3. Do not keep your cell phone on vibrate in a quiet setting. Vibrate does not mean silent, we all know what the brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr means.
4. Do not take a call when you are in the middle of a conversation with someone. You might as well just tell them that they are not worth your time.
5. Do not send a text message when you are in the middle of a conversation with someone. Again, have some courtesy.
6. Do not whisper on your cell phone about someone or something that is within 5 feet of you. THEY CAN HEAR YOU.
7. Do not answer your cell phone on at work. If it is important enough to discuss at work, chances are the person has your work number. Better yet, turn it off! You are supposed to be working!
8. Do not shop and talk on your cell phone. You may think that you are acting no differently, but you are standing in the way of other people while you mosey up and down the isles.
9. Do not choose a new ringtone in public. No one else needs to hear you go through every single sound in your phone while you decide which best illustrates your mood at the moment.
10. Do not use a ringtone that has obscenities in it. Does a child really need to hear that array of four-letter words?
2. Do not walk up to the counter at a store on your cell phone. It is just plain rude.
3. Do not keep your cell phone on vibrate in a quiet setting. Vibrate does not mean silent, we all know what the brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr means.
4. Do not take a call when you are in the middle of a conversation with someone. You might as well just tell them that they are not worth your time.
5. Do not send a text message when you are in the middle of a conversation with someone. Again, have some courtesy.
6. Do not whisper on your cell phone about someone or something that is within 5 feet of you. THEY CAN HEAR YOU.
7. Do not answer your cell phone on at work. If it is important enough to discuss at work, chances are the person has your work number. Better yet, turn it off! You are supposed to be working!
8. Do not shop and talk on your cell phone. You may think that you are acting no differently, but you are standing in the way of other people while you mosey up and down the isles.
9. Do not choose a new ringtone in public. No one else needs to hear you go through every single sound in your phone while you decide which best illustrates your mood at the moment.
10. Do not use a ringtone that has obscenities in it. Does a child really need to hear that array of four-letter words?
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Really? 16 Minutes?
On my way to clas yesterday afternoon, the bedliner of a full-sized pick-up truck flew out of the truck, and onto my car. Luckily, it only breifly hooked onto my bumper and covered my windshield before it flew up and over the top of my car. Although those 2 seconds before it blew off were TERRIFYING.
There isn't much damage done: a dent, some scratches, a missing license plate. The part of the ordeal that REALLY got to me was reporting the accident.
I immediately pulled over, got my cell phone, and called 911. They picked up, after 3 rings, asked my emergency, which I told them, and transferred my to another department. After 2 ring, they answered, asked for my emergency, which I again told them, tey asked if there were injuries, I said no, they said someone would be there shortly.
So we waited.
We were torn between whether we should stay in the car or get out and stand to the side. The shoulder that we were pulled over onto was no wider than a parking spot and the cars behind me were all over the road trying to avoid the giant bedliner, which at this point was hanging out in the middle lane. We decided, probably incorrectly, to stay in the car because it was cooler than being in the direct sun.
We talked about whether or not the driver of the pick-up was going to come back (which she did, thank goodness). I went through my backpack, found my syllabus, and called my professor to tell him that I wasn't going to make class. I sent a text mesage to my mother. Essentially, I had a LOT of time to sit dangerously on the side of the higway and there was a lot of time spent with the cars swerving all over the highway to avoid the bedliner. By the time I realized that it had been a long time, it had already been 12 minutes! And another 4 minutes went by before the police officer showed up!
I can understand that there were no injuries, but I made it clear to BOTH of the 911 operators that I had to speak to that there was blockage on the highway that was causing problems. That alone should have been a rush.
I have only been in one accident prior to this, and it was 8 years ago, so I can't say that I can really remember how long I waited before the police officer showed up, but I can tell you now, that 16 minutes sitting in a car on the side of a 65 mph highway seemed way too long.
There isn't much damage done: a dent, some scratches, a missing license plate. The part of the ordeal that REALLY got to me was reporting the accident.
I immediately pulled over, got my cell phone, and called 911. They picked up, after 3 rings, asked my emergency, which I told them, and transferred my to another department. After 2 ring, they answered, asked for my emergency, which I again told them, tey asked if there were injuries, I said no, they said someone would be there shortly.
So we waited.
We were torn between whether we should stay in the car or get out and stand to the side. The shoulder that we were pulled over onto was no wider than a parking spot and the cars behind me were all over the road trying to avoid the giant bedliner, which at this point was hanging out in the middle lane. We decided, probably incorrectly, to stay in the car because it was cooler than being in the direct sun.
We talked about whether or not the driver of the pick-up was going to come back (which she did, thank goodness). I went through my backpack, found my syllabus, and called my professor to tell him that I wasn't going to make class. I sent a text mesage to my mother. Essentially, I had a LOT of time to sit dangerously on the side of the higway and there was a lot of time spent with the cars swerving all over the highway to avoid the bedliner. By the time I realized that it had been a long time, it had already been 12 minutes! And another 4 minutes went by before the police officer showed up!
I can understand that there were no injuries, but I made it clear to BOTH of the 911 operators that I had to speak to that there was blockage on the highway that was causing problems. That alone should have been a rush.
I have only been in one accident prior to this, and it was 8 years ago, so I can't say that I can really remember how long I waited before the police officer showed up, but I can tell you now, that 16 minutes sitting in a car on the side of a 65 mph highway seemed way too long.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Summer Vacation
I took a very atypical vacation this year. The idea came out of desperation. I had not been on a vacation in 5 years and Tom had not been on vacation for 7 or 8 years. When we began discussing the vacation, we had the typical thoughts: beach, Carribbean, The Outer Banks, Hilton Head, etc. Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching. After we discovered that the cheapest flight to Hilton Head, which was NOT direct, and we would still require a car when we got there was over $400 round trip, per person, we elimiated the idea of airfare altogether.
Growing up, when we went on a weeks long vacation, we rented a house: you ate most of your meals at home, it had more amenities than a hotel room, and it was actually a place that you could spend some time, not just to sleep.
We decided on Ashville, NC as our vacation destination. Ashville is a modestly-sized city with a nice downtown area and was central to all of the activities that we had planned. It is right on the edge of the Smokey Mountains.
The house that we rented was about 20 miles south of Ashville in a town called Tuxedo. Well, I'm not exactly sure you can call it a town. There was a library, althought it looked more like a shed, a gas station/grocery store/hardware store/clothing store, and a stop sign.
The house was amazing. It was a small cottage, tucked away on the top of a hill, surrounded by woods. It had 2 bedrooms and a bathroom that had only a clawfoot tub... and no shower. It was essentially forced relaxation time and no one was complaining about that. It had a hot tub and a porch too. Everyday I would wake up, hours before everyone else, and jump in the hot tub with a book and a cup of coffee. Perfection.
Instead of flying, we drove. We were going to want to explore the area, so it made more sense to just bring our own car. We divided the trip into 2 days each way. We spend the night outside of Washington DC on the way down and in West Virginia on the way up. The days of driving were long, but once we stopped at Cracker Barrel and rented a book-on-tape, the time flew by.
While in North Carolina, we drove the Blue Ridge Parkway, took a boat tour of Lake Lure (where Dirty Dancing was filmed), went 2 different places gem-mining, spent time in downtown Asheville and downtown Hendersonville, went to Hot Springs, NC and spent an hour in a natural hot spring hot tub on the French Broad River, and relaxed...
I could not had asked for a better week away and between renting the cottage, gas money, grocery shopping, and activities, we spent less than we would have spent on only the airfare and rental car anywhere else!
I would highly recommend it!
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