Like A Dog With A (brow) Bone

Here is an artistic take on the First Lady.....and of course the brows that jumped over the moon.

Is That Really Your Neck Exploding Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

New York Times editor flunks association test when calling the following images a 'Celebration of the Chin':

oh yeah, I'm celebrating....

What do you think?

I think there's a bit of a masochistic vibe going on here.

Or a sprinkle of misogyny?

Or something "m"?

Like hot mess?

Clothing The Cougars

Maybe I've been watching too many episodes of "The Real Housewives" lately and I'm seeing things through breast implanted glasses.....but as I cruised through Nordstrom's the other day, (on my way to Aveda) I looked over the women's spring clothing options and decided that it was all cougar clothing.

JennaVickyGretchenLauri-ish babydoll tops abound, paired with jeans, over-sized and over-priced ($400) bags, and bug-eyed sunglasses. The only things missing were the stripper platform sandals. Short jackets with youthful (sez the Nordstrom buyer to his/her boss) styling that your daughters would say are lame, but a cougar would call fun.

Browsing the sale shoe racks (for The Grrrl, not me) I see the Coach high-top sneakers that she wanted this past winter. The sale price: $87. Reduced from $150. Really? $100 (with our 10% sales tax) for brown, fluffy, fake fur-lined high-tops to wear in the spring and summer?

Recession my ass.

Don't even get me started on how food producers have maintained or raised prices and shrunk their products....

I can now hold 2 "large" containers of Moose Tracks ice cream in 1 hand.

I wonder how many containers of the new Moose Tracks ice cream would fit into a cougar top?

Pissed @ Purse + Bitchin re: Bag*

I'm having purse problems.

My bags are either too big or too small.

Too much structure, or not enough.

Too casual for work; too serious for My Other Life.

Not in season - I have to wait until spring.

This vexes me. I'm very vexed.**

They fall off my shoulder in the winter-of-bulky-coats and dangle like a knotted-up tether ball.

The slouches pool on the floor in my office and I run over them.

The stiff soldiers topple over in my front passenger seat and deposit their contents between the seat and the door and under the seat, never to be retrieved.

The little guys don't accommodate my current wallet + sunglasses.

The big guys look like Pamela Anderson's chest after the implants are removed. I don't have enough big stuff to stuff in there. I don't carry my make-up drawer around with me in my purse. (see above for the lone lipstick that is lost under the passenger-side seat). My wallet isn't bulging with the kids' last report cards and coupons for the nearest waterpark.

I'm a purse and wallet minimalist. Just the bare essentials. If I had the guts to dress like Fran Lebowitz, problem solved. Man-up.

I'm waiting to break out the baby-blue perfect-size bag.

Spring will have sprung and I won't be pissed anymore.


* Twitterized for the hip ones
** Big points for knowing this worst of the worst quote from a movie

High-Low, Suburban Style

grocery-store equivalent of mixing Burberry and The Gap:



Mimmolette Cheese - France


kiddie quarter-barrel of Sunny-D


organic wheatberries


4-pack ("fwack") of toilet bowl cleaner

Not Fixed Yet

Oh Mrs. O...

Put down the tweezers!

Get those brows back down on your brow BONE, girl!


http://www.monstersandcritics.com/news/usa/features/article_1457417.php/In_photos_President_Obama_and_First_Lady_Read_to_School_Children

Inheriting The Wackness

The remember-this-for-the-blog-note was written on the back of a "shoe-a-day" mini calendar page (February 2nd, purple pump that even a drag queen wouldn't wear) that is 2 x 2.5 inches.

This is one of the quirks that I inherited from my mom.

It's the why-use-a-pristine-piece-of-paper-when-there-is-some-sort-of-reusable-piece-of-paper-around-here....quirk.

She was green before Al Gore and Bono told us to be green.

She types her notes that accompany magazine/newspaper clippings and comics for the kids on random pieces of paper. The bottom third of a nice piece of paper that someone sent her a letter on. A note pad page from a hotel in Italy or a page-a-day calendar depicting places in Italy that she's been to, with a written or typed note, on the back, indicating the significance of the place on that calendar page.

Grocery lists are written on backs of envelopes and junk mail fliers with enough white space.

I do the same thing.

I wonder if The Boy or The Grrl will inherit this wackness?

I was reminded of another childhood quirk when The Grrl and I played Monopoly last night. When I was her age, I hoarded the money that was distributed at the beginning of the game. I wouldn't buy a property until other people bought up quite a few. I was afraid I would run out of cash. The Grrl bought every property that she landed on until she was down to about $120.

I bought property on every roll until I got to the green ones. The ones before Park Place and the other hoity-toity address. She still had 2x what I had, but I had 3 utilities and made some nice $ when she landed on one.

Maybe she'll get the paper quirk, because she clearly didn't get the Monopoly chicken-shit quirk.