I seem to be able to hold a person's romantic or sexual interest in me regardless of how much of an ass I make of myself. Or how stupid I look. Or what ridiculous shit I say. It sounds like unadulterated ego here, but that's as best as I can describe it--people who would ordinarily not be too keen to pursue someone who appears to be that fucking weird are still interested in me when I've done something so dumb and bizarre that most people would just walk away.
And I think I got this trait from my mom.
When she was in college the drinking age was still eighteen. At a party one night, smashed off her tits, she was helped into a friend's car by a well-meaning young guy called David. She thanked him by vomiting on his new shoes.
The next day he called her and asked her out.
Yeah. Like a boss.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
the ghost of shamefulness past
Confession: I used to write with a recurring Mary Sue.
People who write know what that means--especially fanfiction, though it happens in all genres to some degree. 'Twilight', I'm looking at you.
A 'Mary Sue' is a colloquialism within writing communities for a poorly-written author-proxy character who is perfect and faultless and everyone loves her. She's usually everything the author is or wishes they could be. Mary Sues are beautiful, intelligent, witty, mysterious, and often tortured souls. They often have unnatural features like cat ears, wings, tails, colour-changing eyes, or unusual hair colours. They usually get paired with main characters on whom the writer has a crush.
Mostly they're written by young writers, pre-teens and adolescents who have only just discovered the joys of writing and who haven't yet grasped how to write well-rounded and believable characters. Some are written by adults, but mostly it's a younger thing.
I wrote one. Back when I was about eleven or twelve. And she actually stayed in my mental roster for a good few years.
Her name, I am embarrassed to admit, was 'Tigress'. Sometimes she was called 'Tiger'. She had black hair and green eyes. She also had steel wings and a tail and was the half-god child of a divinity. And she had magic powers. And everyone fell in love with her.
I'm so glad I don't do shit like that anymore.
People who write know what that means--especially fanfiction, though it happens in all genres to some degree. 'Twilight', I'm looking at you.
A 'Mary Sue' is a colloquialism within writing communities for a poorly-written author-proxy character who is perfect and faultless and everyone loves her. She's usually everything the author is or wishes they could be. Mary Sues are beautiful, intelligent, witty, mysterious, and often tortured souls. They often have unnatural features like cat ears, wings, tails, colour-changing eyes, or unusual hair colours. They usually get paired with main characters on whom the writer has a crush.
Mostly they're written by young writers, pre-teens and adolescents who have only just discovered the joys of writing and who haven't yet grasped how to write well-rounded and believable characters. Some are written by adults, but mostly it's a younger thing.
I wrote one. Back when I was about eleven or twelve. And she actually stayed in my mental roster for a good few years.
Her name, I am embarrassed to admit, was 'Tigress'. Sometimes she was called 'Tiger'. She had black hair and green eyes. She also had steel wings and a tail and was the half-god child of a divinity. And she had magic powers. And everyone fell in love with her.
I'm so glad I don't do shit like that anymore.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
so exactly what part of this is the weird part?
Boything wears a collar. I realize from an outside perspective this makes me look like a dangerous psychopath--even from my perspective it looks pretty fucked up. But he does it and he quite likes it. Don't ask me why.
And he wears it so much that people are kinda used to seeing it.
Which is why he turned up at a friend's house sans the collar one day and everyone there was actually surprised to see him without it. And was asking him why he didn't have it on.
So what's weirder here? That he wears a collar, willingly, and wears it so often that everyone got used to seeing him in a dog collar? Or the fact that everyone got so used to this particular bit of weirdness that the day he didn't wear it attracted attention?
I don't try and answer these questions anymore. I don't think I can.
And he wears it so much that people are kinda used to seeing it.
Which is why he turned up at a friend's house sans the collar one day and everyone there was actually surprised to see him without it. And was asking him why he didn't have it on.
So what's weirder here? That he wears a collar, willingly, and wears it so often that everyone got used to seeing him in a dog collar? Or the fact that everyone got so used to this particular bit of weirdness that the day he didn't wear it attracted attention?
I don't try and answer these questions anymore. I don't think I can.
Monday, May 28, 2012
insider information
My mom is a teacher, though she didn't go full-time until I was almost out of high school. Because of this I have known a lot of teacher friends of hers--none of whom were ever teachers of mine, though my senior year science teacher was the husband of a teacher-friend with whom I had interacted socially before, which was awkward.
So I feel totally justified in saying this:
Teachers are much more sadistic than you think. You know how you would sometimes have a moment of rational thought when fuming silently that your teacher was being a dick on purpose, that voice in your head (and probably a similar voice coming from your parents) that said you were imagining things and they weren't being mean just to be mean?
That voice is lying to you. It might just as well be offering cake for all the truth in it.
Not that teachers often bully students for giggles--though some do--but that they assign projects and work that they know will be complicated and frustrating and time-consuming. They inflict surprise tests. They sit you next to people you hate. That kind of shit.
One big one I remember was multiple choice tests. Remember when you took those, and the answers would seem to have a pattern? If they went 'A, B, C, D' over and over or a bunch of answers in a row were all the same letter, you panicked because you thought you were getting all the wrong answers. Because how would they do that on purpose? Wouldn't it just be a careless mistake? You don't want kids guessing right, after all!
Yeah. They were doing that shit on purpose just to fuck with your head. They might not have been laughing out loud but inside they were having a serious incidence of giggle incontinence. You can bet your silent panic in the classroom was the subject of dinner stories for years after.
So I feel totally justified in saying this:
Teachers are much more sadistic than you think. You know how you would sometimes have a moment of rational thought when fuming silently that your teacher was being a dick on purpose, that voice in your head (and probably a similar voice coming from your parents) that said you were imagining things and they weren't being mean just to be mean?
That voice is lying to you. It might just as well be offering cake for all the truth in it.
Not that teachers often bully students for giggles--though some do--but that they assign projects and work that they know will be complicated and frustrating and time-consuming. They inflict surprise tests. They sit you next to people you hate. That kind of shit.
One big one I remember was multiple choice tests. Remember when you took those, and the answers would seem to have a pattern? If they went 'A, B, C, D' over and over or a bunch of answers in a row were all the same letter, you panicked because you thought you were getting all the wrong answers. Because how would they do that on purpose? Wouldn't it just be a careless mistake? You don't want kids guessing right, after all!
Yeah. They were doing that shit on purpose just to fuck with your head. They might not have been laughing out loud but inside they were having a serious incidence of giggle incontinence. You can bet your silent panic in the classroom was the subject of dinner stories for years after.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
twice as embarrassing
Almost no one ever likes their yearbook pictures, and with a good reason: yearbook pictures are terrible. I seriously think they recruit yearbook photographers, passport/driving license photographers, and mugshot photographers from the same art school--probably called something like 'The Greater Northwest University of Excessively Unflattering Photography'. They just seem to have this remarkable talent for being able to bring out each and every one of your worst features, including ones you didn't even know you had.
In short, yearbook pictures suck.
Either sophomore or junior year in high school, there was an error with my friend's yearbook picture and somehow the only photo they had was one in which she was caught laughing and blinking at the same time. Not a good look for her, or indeed anyone else. So they re-took the photo and used the new one, but apparently never bothered to edit and proofread the yearbook before they sent it to publishing, because my friend ended up having two photos in the yearbook, side by side--including the mid-giggle-blink picture.
Poor Denise.
In short, yearbook pictures suck.
Either sophomore or junior year in high school, there was an error with my friend's yearbook picture and somehow the only photo they had was one in which she was caught laughing and blinking at the same time. Not a good look for her, or indeed anyone else. So they re-took the photo and used the new one, but apparently never bothered to edit and proofread the yearbook before they sent it to publishing, because my friend ended up having two photos in the yearbook, side by side--including the mid-giggle-blink picture.
Poor Denise.
all the work, none of the glory
On a roll tonight--on with more nonsense, this time about history and fashion!
A lot of people are probably aware that purple is a colour often associated with royalty--because for a time it was actually illegal to wear it unless you were royalty, or at least a very high-ranking noble. Not that the law mattered much, since the dye was hard to make and time consuming and could make only very small quantities at a time, it was extortionately expensive, making it unattainable to all but the wealthiest people.
Easier to come by, but still expensive, was a versatile blue dye made from a plant called 'woad'. It could be made much more efficiently and in larger quantities--it's woad dye in various intensities that you see over and over again in abundance in Medieval tapestries. For a time the sumptuary laws (the laws dictating who could wear what) even prohibited certain people from wearing this colour.
Despite the fact that the dyemakers specialized in making a product available only to the richest of the rich, they were never especially popular people in their communities. The process of making both dyes was notoriously pungent, and in a world without regular bathing the pigment and smell tended to seep more or less permanently into the hands and clothes of the dyemakers. Woad purportedly smelled of really strong cat urine; purple dye was made by grinding the shells of murexes, a tiny sea snail found only in parts of the Mediterranean. (Phoenicia was for a time famous for producing and selling purple dye, because they had the best access to them.) Purple dye was even more malodorous and smelled like extremely rancid fish.
I don't know whether or not the smell stuck around after it was soaked into a fabric. I wouldn't be surprised if it did and people were just willing to put up with it or try to ignore it--it's not like it's at all strange for people to put up with a lot of terrible shit in the name of fashion. Do you honestly think anyone wore huge elaborate wigs, hoop skirts, picadills, or lead face paint because they were comfortable and easy to wear?
It's a bit interesting to think that the people who created a product available exclusively to only the richest people were so shunned and avoided by everyone else because the much-sought-after product they made smelled so terrible.
A lot of people are probably aware that purple is a colour often associated with royalty--because for a time it was actually illegal to wear it unless you were royalty, or at least a very high-ranking noble. Not that the law mattered much, since the dye was hard to make and time consuming and could make only very small quantities at a time, it was extortionately expensive, making it unattainable to all but the wealthiest people.
Easier to come by, but still expensive, was a versatile blue dye made from a plant called 'woad'. It could be made much more efficiently and in larger quantities--it's woad dye in various intensities that you see over and over again in abundance in Medieval tapestries. For a time the sumptuary laws (the laws dictating who could wear what) even prohibited certain people from wearing this colour.
Despite the fact that the dyemakers specialized in making a product available only to the richest of the rich, they were never especially popular people in their communities. The process of making both dyes was notoriously pungent, and in a world without regular bathing the pigment and smell tended to seep more or less permanently into the hands and clothes of the dyemakers. Woad purportedly smelled of really strong cat urine; purple dye was made by grinding the shells of murexes, a tiny sea snail found only in parts of the Mediterranean. (Phoenicia was for a time famous for producing and selling purple dye, because they had the best access to them.) Purple dye was even more malodorous and smelled like extremely rancid fish.
I don't know whether or not the smell stuck around after it was soaked into a fabric. I wouldn't be surprised if it did and people were just willing to put up with it or try to ignore it--it's not like it's at all strange for people to put up with a lot of terrible shit in the name of fashion. Do you honestly think anyone wore huge elaborate wigs, hoop skirts, picadills, or lead face paint because they were comfortable and easy to wear?
It's a bit interesting to think that the people who created a product available exclusively to only the richest people were so shunned and avoided by everyone else because the much-sought-after product they made smelled so terrible.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
if you do this, I judge you
So, yeah--little things sometimes annoy the fuck out of me, way disproportionately to the actual inherent level of obnoxiousness. I don't even know why, they just do. My pet peeves just seem to be especially peevish. One of the things I hate most? People who type or write digits for certain numbers instead of just typing out the word.
I learned this in school, but I honestly don't remember when or from whom. I'm reasonably sure it was an English class of some kind but that would be pretty obvious. I'm not even generally predisposed to wanting to cling so devotedly to something I learned in school, but for some reason I've decided that this is an immutable fact of the universe so it pisses me the fuck off when people don't obey my preferred set of rules.
Anyway, one of my teachers declared that the 'right' way to write numbers was to actually spell the word out for numbers up to twenty--and also that you should write out thirty, forty, fifty and so on. Only for numbers greater than that was it acceptable to use actual numbers. And I follow this rule steadily, even in online chats and text messages and shit. (I also correct people's spelling in text messages and IMs and emails. I realize this makes me obnoxious as fuck.)
Because of this, it really annoys me when people write something like, 'the dog just had puppies, there are 4 of them!' instead of 'there are four of them'. It pained me even to just write that example there. I wouldn't want to take the time to write seven thousand, three hundred, and ninety-six instead of 7396, or even fifty-nine instead of 59--but it isn't that hard to write 'two' or 'eighteen' or 'sixty'. And I find it very visually jarring and extremely, pettily frustrating when people do it.
Yeah. I'm sure this is why I turned to drugs and have high blood pressure.
I learned this in school, but I honestly don't remember when or from whom. I'm reasonably sure it was an English class of some kind but that would be pretty obvious. I'm not even generally predisposed to wanting to cling so devotedly to something I learned in school, but for some reason I've decided that this is an immutable fact of the universe so it pisses me the fuck off when people don't obey my preferred set of rules.
Anyway, one of my teachers declared that the 'right' way to write numbers was to actually spell the word out for numbers up to twenty--and also that you should write out thirty, forty, fifty and so on. Only for numbers greater than that was it acceptable to use actual numbers. And I follow this rule steadily, even in online chats and text messages and shit. (I also correct people's spelling in text messages and IMs and emails. I realize this makes me obnoxious as fuck.)
Because of this, it really annoys me when people write something like, 'the dog just had puppies, there are 4 of them!' instead of 'there are four of them'. It pained me even to just write that example there. I wouldn't want to take the time to write seven thousand, three hundred, and ninety-six instead of 7396, or even fifty-nine instead of 59--but it isn't that hard to write 'two' or 'eighteen' or 'sixty'. And I find it very visually jarring and extremely, pettily frustrating when people do it.
Yeah. I'm sure this is why I turned to drugs and have high blood pressure.
this is why the internet loves cats
Dog Logic:
You should try and eat everything you find on the ground or that the humans drop, regardless of whether or not it's actually food, because if it turns out that it isn't edible after all you can always throw it up later in the human's bed or on something expensive.
You should try and eat everything you find on the ground or that the humans drop, regardless of whether or not it's actually food, because if it turns out that it isn't edible after all you can always throw it up later in the human's bed or on something expensive.
normal? not me...
Friend says, "The words 'eyeball tattoo' are the two most uncomfortable words in the English language."
Normal person response: "Wow, you're right, that is pretty disturbing and squicky."
My response: "Yeah but I bet I can make you feel even more uncomfortable with other combinations of words and will attempt so to do, by saying things like, 'urethral fisting' and 'anal hook'."
Sometimes even I think I'm fucking insane.
Normal person response: "Wow, you're right, that is pretty disturbing and squicky."
My response: "Yeah but I bet I can make you feel even more uncomfortable with other combinations of words and will attempt so to do, by saying things like, 'urethral fisting' and 'anal hook'."
Sometimes even I think I'm fucking insane.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The Profane Poet
When I was reading Shakespeare in school, I never enjoyed it like I do as an adult--and one of the main reasons was because I found the arcane language difficult to read and understand. The copies of the plays that we used in school had the play itself printed on only one side of each page; the facing page contained footnotes explaining the use of words and phrases that have changed or disappeared from the vernacular all together, but even that didn't help 100% of the time.
But I've moved past that as an adult. It has nothing to do with getting older and everything to do with learning--and thereby understanding--a language that has changed drastically over time. And being able to understand the language led to my other main reason for enjoying Shakespeare: I get the dirty jokes now.
Plays in Jacobean and Elizabethan England were startlingly raunchy affairs. Surviving texts show a wealth of profanity and sexual innuendo that we in the modern world would be pretty squeamish around. The only reason Shakespeare's work isn't heavily edited or challenged is because most of the R-rated content is written in a way that is no longer obscene. Other playwrights used a lot of swearing, some of it graphic--plays had lines like 'I fart at thee!', 'A turd in your teeth!', and 'Shit on your head!' Shakespeare seemed uncomfortable with doing this and at that time his plays would have probably been considered somewhat prudish in their lack of profanity. But what Shakespeare lacks in swearing he more than makes up for in dirty jokes.
I was reading 'Twelfth Night' and came to Lady Olivia's insult to Malvolio the weasel, in which she asks him if he's tired of 'self-love', which basically means she called him a wanker. Then she accused him of being diseased, the implication obviously meaning sexually transmitted disease. The next character that speaks, the Fool, makes reference of Mercury--on the surface this is an allusion to ancient Roman mythology, but it would have been an extremely dirty joke to the audience at the time because mercury was often used as a treatment for... syphilis.
Yeah. Shakespeare was seriously multi-talented, but his specialty seems to have been 'being a pervert'.
Stay classy, O Bard. Stay classy.
But I've moved past that as an adult. It has nothing to do with getting older and everything to do with learning--and thereby understanding--a language that has changed drastically over time. And being able to understand the language led to my other main reason for enjoying Shakespeare: I get the dirty jokes now.
Plays in Jacobean and Elizabethan England were startlingly raunchy affairs. Surviving texts show a wealth of profanity and sexual innuendo that we in the modern world would be pretty squeamish around. The only reason Shakespeare's work isn't heavily edited or challenged is because most of the R-rated content is written in a way that is no longer obscene. Other playwrights used a lot of swearing, some of it graphic--plays had lines like 'I fart at thee!', 'A turd in your teeth!', and 'Shit on your head!' Shakespeare seemed uncomfortable with doing this and at that time his plays would have probably been considered somewhat prudish in their lack of profanity. But what Shakespeare lacks in swearing he more than makes up for in dirty jokes.
I was reading 'Twelfth Night' and came to Lady Olivia's insult to Malvolio the weasel, in which she asks him if he's tired of 'self-love', which basically means she called him a wanker. Then she accused him of being diseased, the implication obviously meaning sexually transmitted disease. The next character that speaks, the Fool, makes reference of Mercury--on the surface this is an allusion to ancient Roman mythology, but it would have been an extremely dirty joke to the audience at the time because mercury was often used as a treatment for... syphilis.
Yeah. Shakespeare was seriously multi-talented, but his specialty seems to have been 'being a pervert'.
Stay classy, O Bard. Stay classy.
Monday, May 14, 2012
minor shit
So, among the rather more detrimental and uncomfortable and upsetting ramifications from the overwhelmingly negative circumstances of my upbringing, I have a couple of silly ones. Some are habits that I picked up because it my parents, others were meant to cope with other authority figures like teachers.
Now, I get kidney stones. A lot. A few times a year. It is incredibly, insurmountably painful. They're a pretty common medical condition but it's typically found in elderly people--who are more likely to have a high-sodium, high-cholesterol body makeup that assists in forming stones. It's really unusual in someone my age who otherwise has healthy kidneys and I actually had my first one at sixteen. That's insanely young. Most likely it's the result of just not drinking enough. Of anything. (Newsflash: you don't need eight glasses of water a day, you will actually know when you are dehydrated and need to drink, and other liquids and most foods that aren't water still give you fluid intake.) I still don't drink as much a day as I do. I keep myself chronically dehydrated. There are days where I have just a single glass of water or juice and no other liquids.
Obviously this is not a good thing. It never ends well for me. But I think I know why I do it.
My high school implemented a lot of its rules with a nearly Gestapo-like zeal. I'm not saying rulebreaking should be tolerated universally, but it just isn't okay to enforce the rules to the point of ludicrousness. I got a detention once because when a teacher asked me how long my skirt was in the back--school rules dictated they had to be fingertip length but I have a very large backside so skirts tend to be a bit shorter in back than in front--and I answered, 'I dunno, I can't see the back.'
One thing they hated a lot was... people going to the bathroom. A lot of people have clockwork bladders. Within a certain time period every day, following meals or something, you just have to go. Teachers didn't like this because they always assumed you were going to cut class. Some teachers even handed out limited bathroom passes per semester. Two was pretty common, and I don't know anyone who has to pee just twice over the course of several months. They hated it when you asked during class, to which they tended to respond, 'You should've gone before you got here! You're interrupting class time!!' But they would literally lock you out if you turned up a nanosecond after the bell rang--forcing a lot of kids to have to explain 'unexcused absences' from classes when they get phone calls. So no matter when you thought it was going to be safe for a toilet break, it never was.
Anyway.
To combat this I just tried to make sure I didn't have to pee in school. A feat I accomplished by not drinking. Anything. At all. All day. Often without eating as well. I dunno about anyone else, but if I'm busting I can't think of anything else until the situation is remedied. I kept myself chronically dehydrated just so I wouldn't incur the unfair and unjustified wrath of my teachers.
I still do it.
It sucks.
Now, I get kidney stones. A lot. A few times a year. It is incredibly, insurmountably painful. They're a pretty common medical condition but it's typically found in elderly people--who are more likely to have a high-sodium, high-cholesterol body makeup that assists in forming stones. It's really unusual in someone my age who otherwise has healthy kidneys and I actually had my first one at sixteen. That's insanely young. Most likely it's the result of just not drinking enough. Of anything. (Newsflash: you don't need eight glasses of water a day, you will actually know when you are dehydrated and need to drink, and other liquids and most foods that aren't water still give you fluid intake.) I still don't drink as much a day as I do. I keep myself chronically dehydrated. There are days where I have just a single glass of water or juice and no other liquids.
Obviously this is not a good thing. It never ends well for me. But I think I know why I do it.
My high school implemented a lot of its rules with a nearly Gestapo-like zeal. I'm not saying rulebreaking should be tolerated universally, but it just isn't okay to enforce the rules to the point of ludicrousness. I got a detention once because when a teacher asked me how long my skirt was in the back--school rules dictated they had to be fingertip length but I have a very large backside so skirts tend to be a bit shorter in back than in front--and I answered, 'I dunno, I can't see the back.'
One thing they hated a lot was... people going to the bathroom. A lot of people have clockwork bladders. Within a certain time period every day, following meals or something, you just have to go. Teachers didn't like this because they always assumed you were going to cut class. Some teachers even handed out limited bathroom passes per semester. Two was pretty common, and I don't know anyone who has to pee just twice over the course of several months. They hated it when you asked during class, to which they tended to respond, 'You should've gone before you got here! You're interrupting class time!!' But they would literally lock you out if you turned up a nanosecond after the bell rang--forcing a lot of kids to have to explain 'unexcused absences' from classes when they get phone calls. So no matter when you thought it was going to be safe for a toilet break, it never was.
Anyway.
To combat this I just tried to make sure I didn't have to pee in school. A feat I accomplished by not drinking. Anything. At all. All day. Often without eating as well. I dunno about anyone else, but if I'm busting I can't think of anything else until the situation is remedied. I kept myself chronically dehydrated just so I wouldn't incur the unfair and unjustified wrath of my teachers.
I still do it.
It sucks.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Call Yourself Something Normal
Things bother me that have no business bothering me. But nonetheless, they bother me.
One thing I hate: 'creative' baby names.
I totally understand wanting your kid to be a Yuuniekke Ayuhnd Spaeshul Lyttull Snoeflayke (TM) and make them stand out from the crowd but they're much more likely to be a boring-ass run-of-the-mill accountant than they are to be Janis Joplin or Picasso. They are going to disappoint your expectations for being cool and quirky and unusual. Get the fuck over it. And stop giving your kids stupid 'krriiettievve' names that are spelled and pronounced totally different ways because you just basically sentenced your kid to a life of hating their name, explaining to everybody how to spell/say it, and looking really really really stupid. You look stupid as well, for calling them that. Having a weird name is something that always sounds cooler than it actually is. Some people grow to embrace creative names. Most don't. If you want to change your own name from Mary-Anne Smith to Sunbeam Moonflower Jyydynne Ayydnne Antosequandriquae Shioddunnieton that's totally your prerogative. I think you're a dingbat but you're presumably a grownup and are making your own choice. Don't saddle your kid with a name like that. They will not thank you for it. They just look stupid.
Don't name your kid Aiden or any of its derivatives. Don't spell a common name a 'new' and 'creative' way. (Like Myykkieale, or Gienuphuerre, or Jhueiymzze for Michael, Jennifer, or James.) Nevaeh (IT'S 'HEAVEN' SPELLED BACKWARD, AREN'T I JUST SO CUTE??) is not a good name. Skylar isn't a good one either. And for god's sake step away from the letter Q. At this rate, there are going to be eighteen kids in any given elementary school class with names like Hieaydyynne and Skyueyllurr and the 'weird' kids will be the ones called Sarah or Travis. You are not cute or interesting or creative or unique or fun. You sound like you took one too many bong hits during labour. Knock that shit off.
Trust me, your kids will thank you.
One thing I hate: 'creative' baby names.
I totally understand wanting your kid to be a Yuuniekke Ayuhnd Spaeshul Lyttull Snoeflayke (TM) and make them stand out from the crowd but they're much more likely to be a boring-ass run-of-the-mill accountant than they are to be Janis Joplin or Picasso. They are going to disappoint your expectations for being cool and quirky and unusual. Get the fuck over it. And stop giving your kids stupid 'krriiettievve' names that are spelled and pronounced totally different ways because you just basically sentenced your kid to a life of hating their name, explaining to everybody how to spell/say it, and looking really really really stupid. You look stupid as well, for calling them that. Having a weird name is something that always sounds cooler than it actually is. Some people grow to embrace creative names. Most don't. If you want to change your own name from Mary-Anne Smith to Sunbeam Moonflower Jyydynne Ayydnne Antosequandriquae Shioddunnieton that's totally your prerogative. I think you're a dingbat but you're presumably a grownup and are making your own choice. Don't saddle your kid with a name like that. They will not thank you for it. They just look stupid.
Don't name your kid Aiden or any of its derivatives. Don't spell a common name a 'new' and 'creative' way. (Like Myykkieale, or Gienuphuerre, or Jhueiymzze for Michael, Jennifer, or James.) Nevaeh (IT'S 'HEAVEN' SPELLED BACKWARD, AREN'T I JUST SO CUTE??) is not a good name. Skylar isn't a good one either. And for god's sake step away from the letter Q. At this rate, there are going to be eighteen kids in any given elementary school class with names like Hieaydyynne and Skyueyllurr and the 'weird' kids will be the ones called Sarah or Travis. You are not cute or interesting or creative or unique or fun. You sound like you took one too many bong hits during labour. Knock that shit off.
Trust me, your kids will thank you.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
okay, I hadn't planned for that...
A lot of working parents leave their kids with a nanny or sitter or something before they're old enough to be in school. Never mind what you might be inclined to think of people who foist off a chunk of their parenting responsibilities onto someone else, it can have some unintended and sometimes just plain strange consequences. Most commonly, a child might bond more with the hired help and become more attached to them than their own parents. Or the child can pick up some bad habits.
I think a lot of people who hire nannies and sitters for all-day childcare for an extended period of time are at least vaguely aware that these possibilities exist. Sometimes they even try to negate them by making a point to spend time with the brat whenever they can. Or keeping a close eye to make sure no one is learning something objectionable. You can prepare for that shit.
But I'm not sure anyone would even suspect this would happen, let alone be able to prepare to deal with the ramifications.
I briefly knew a girl called Dawn, who happened to be white as white can be, whose mother was a single parent, meaning she was the sole provider and couldn't stay home all day with the baby. So she hired a nanny. It just so happened that the woman hired was Chinese and didn't speak terribly much English. Dawn was exposed to Chinese much more often than she was exposed to English-speakers, so naturally she picked up the language.
But she didn't manage to pick up English.
In the end, Dawn ended up having to take English instruction for her first few years at school because she happened to have been left with a sitter who inadvertently taught her Chinese. She even had a hard time communicating with her own mother.
By the time I knew her, she spoke perfect English. But I thought it was a bit weird and a bit interesting that this even happened. It would never have occurred to me to think of that as a potential consequence.
It had its perks, she told me. She could go to Chinese restaurants and order in Chinese and engage the staff in friendly casual conversation. Part of why she did it was because she always thought it was a bit funny how surprised they often were that this very not Asian chick spoke fluent Mandarin.
I think a lot of people who hire nannies and sitters for all-day childcare for an extended period of time are at least vaguely aware that these possibilities exist. Sometimes they even try to negate them by making a point to spend time with the brat whenever they can. Or keeping a close eye to make sure no one is learning something objectionable. You can prepare for that shit.
But I'm not sure anyone would even suspect this would happen, let alone be able to prepare to deal with the ramifications.
I briefly knew a girl called Dawn, who happened to be white as white can be, whose mother was a single parent, meaning she was the sole provider and couldn't stay home all day with the baby. So she hired a nanny. It just so happened that the woman hired was Chinese and didn't speak terribly much English. Dawn was exposed to Chinese much more often than she was exposed to English-speakers, so naturally she picked up the language.
But she didn't manage to pick up English.
In the end, Dawn ended up having to take English instruction for her first few years at school because she happened to have been left with a sitter who inadvertently taught her Chinese. She even had a hard time communicating with her own mother.
By the time I knew her, she spoke perfect English. But I thought it was a bit weird and a bit interesting that this even happened. It would never have occurred to me to think of that as a potential consequence.
It had its perks, she told me. She could go to Chinese restaurants and order in Chinese and engage the staff in friendly casual conversation. Part of why she did it was because she always thought it was a bit funny how surprised they often were that this very not Asian chick spoke fluent Mandarin.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
fashion =/= style
So, I've been around for a while. I have access to the internet. I've seen all kinds of fashion trends, past and present, that I thought were silly. Crocs were ugly, but fortunately those became associated with ugly stupid people and NO ONE liked them. Capri pants and cropped-length pants don't look good on anybody, especially not short people--unless you are very tall and slender and have really long legs, you are not going to look good in capri pants. Huge baggy clothes with pleats in strategically chosen places make everyone look wider and dumpier than they really are. Pajama pants should not be worn in public.
You get the picture. Some fashions are just stupid, okay?
But I've never actually really actively despised a fashion trend before. That is, until recently.
We already know how I feel about sandals, yeah? I fucking hate them. No one should wear them. But of the sandals I don't like, the new fashion sandals are especially hideous. You know the ones. Gladiator sandals. They have lines and straps arranged in a way that flatters approximately no one. Criss-crossing along the sides, a big decorative strip on the top of the foot. They have ankle straps that cut off the leg at a very awkward and unappealing place that makes the leg look shorter. The zillion straps, the awkward solid cutoff, the ubiquitous big clunky central line that serves no purpose and is always ugly. They're terrible. No one should be wearing these. I never imagined I would see a shoe that managed to simultaneously incorporate a fuckton of material, yet have such inadequate coverage. Sandals are shit anyway, but these particular sandals are the worst.
I can look at trends I don't like and go, 'Well you look really stupid like that, but you'll eventually figure that out in the next ten years or so once that shit is out of style.' Gladiator sandals, however, are something I just actively hate. Not even gladiators look good in those fucking things. They're definitely too severe and too awkwardly constructed to look good on anybody.
Go get yourselves something that doesn't cut you off at the ankle.
And while you're at it, get rid of every pair of sandals you have. You can keep one or two pairs of cheap flip-flops but you're only ever allowed to wear them to a beach or pool.
I really feel weird, I work at Old Navy, famous for its cheap plentiful flip-flops, but I fucking despise flip-flops. They should be illegal. All sandals should be illegal.
You get the picture. Some fashions are just stupid, okay?
But I've never actually really actively despised a fashion trend before. That is, until recently.
We already know how I feel about sandals, yeah? I fucking hate them. No one should wear them. But of the sandals I don't like, the new fashion sandals are especially hideous. You know the ones. Gladiator sandals. They have lines and straps arranged in a way that flatters approximately no one. Criss-crossing along the sides, a big decorative strip on the top of the foot. They have ankle straps that cut off the leg at a very awkward and unappealing place that makes the leg look shorter. The zillion straps, the awkward solid cutoff, the ubiquitous big clunky central line that serves no purpose and is always ugly. They're terrible. No one should be wearing these. I never imagined I would see a shoe that managed to simultaneously incorporate a fuckton of material, yet have such inadequate coverage. Sandals are shit anyway, but these particular sandals are the worst.
I can look at trends I don't like and go, 'Well you look really stupid like that, but you'll eventually figure that out in the next ten years or so once that shit is out of style.' Gladiator sandals, however, are something I just actively hate. Not even gladiators look good in those fucking things. They're definitely too severe and too awkwardly constructed to look good on anybody.
Go get yourselves something that doesn't cut you off at the ankle.
And while you're at it, get rid of every pair of sandals you have. You can keep one or two pairs of cheap flip-flops but you're only ever allowed to wear them to a beach or pool.
I really feel weird, I work at Old Navy, famous for its cheap plentiful flip-flops, but I fucking despise flip-flops. They should be illegal. All sandals should be illegal.
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