Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Crazy Sauce!

Feeling tipsy yet?
Photo: Flickr, by Gwen

"What are we doing today?"
"My Chihuahua Bites!"
"Omigod I love that!"

What the hell just happened? I'll tell you: a manicure was born. And if it still doesn't make sense to you, then I have no clue what I can do to make it right because that's just the way of nail polish colors. Let me see if I can tell you a story.

Once upon a time I was running through my options from "A- to Zurich" and I looked over at my friend and inquired, "William tell me about OPI." OPI is a brand of nail polish favored by women who seek a little "Vodka and Caviar" here and there. Of course "It's All Greek to Me" but who am I to question the "Manicurist of Seville?" After all, she's been doing it for a "Quarter of a Cent-Cherry." 

So, as I ate my "California Raspberry," which had a deep "Color to Diner For" I wondered to myself, "Meep-Meep-Meep" and felt the "Thrill of Brazil" coursing through my veins. I still didn't fully understand the naming process behind the colors of OPI, but after "An Affair in Red Square" I really "Got the Blues for Red." What was a (mostly) sober girl to do?

Of course you KNOW the possibilities are endless.
Photo: Flickr, by Marina Amante

Well "Planks A lot" OPI, because, as the "Diva of Geneva," I had a plan. I headed down to "Mrs. O'Leary's BBQ" and thank goodness I remembered the password.."Wocka Wocka"....that's important. I could've been waiting till it was "Midnight in Moscow" if I'd forgotten that! (And you know "Lincoln Park After Dark" is like "Siberian Nights"...so don't forget the password!) 

ANYHOO...with my "Royal Flush Blush" in full swing, I was feeling "Rally Pretty in Pink" and decided to find "The One That Got Away." That's no easy task because, even though "I Eat Mainely Lobster," it's difficult to get a "Party in My Cabana" when I'm "Indi-a Mood For Love." I mean, come on..."Congeniality is My Middle Name" but I was wearing "Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" so getting around town was a challenge. In my sheer desperation, I "Ate Berries in the Canaries" and I don't even know how to fix that!

I'm sure by now you think I've "Gone Gonzo!" But, I promise you this, if you want to be "Gettin' Miss Piggy with It" I have given you all the information you need to boldly walk into a nail salon and tell the trained professional there which red, purple, pink or metallic color you'd like on your nails. I'm not here to discuss the "Pro's and Bronze" of it all, because "I Juggle...Men" all day long and that makes ME the "Fresh Frog of Bel Air."

Please believe this makes way more sense if you get stupid drunk and read it. Though I am NOT advocating the excessive use of alcohol here...your manicure will look rather sloppy heading into the holidays if you've gotten blotto beforehand. "Uh-oh Roll Down the Window" because I'm finished. (And that's a nice mossy green color to compliment any attire!)

PS...OPI owns the trademark, copyright, and all other monetary rights to these color names so don't be paying me for this post....like you were going to. Oh this IS a funny one today, isn't it?!

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Saturday Micro-Slap!

Yes, Mom...if he told me to jump
off a cliff, I WOULD!
The other night I was watching what I believe to be my personal broadcast of national news from Mr. Brian Williams, a man among men and a real first class addition to my "freebie list," and he told me about an organization that I thought I'd share with you. It belongs in a slap Friday post, but I didn't do one yesterday because I'm a busy worky girl now and I don't have time to hold your hand every single day anymore. That's how it goes, pals.

The organization is called "Spark" and it links at risk students with volunteer professionals who mentor children and show them what it looks like to become whatever their dream is. And of course statistics can be skewed any way you want, but Spark maintains that there is a 30% nationwide drop-out rate and a 50% drop-out rate in the high risk schools from which these students come. Their initial studies show a 98% graduation rate from the Spark program. Seriously...that's pretty good, right?

So anyway, this is a micro slap because I have a busy week end. Check out the website and learn for yourself for once...yeah? You can donate, you can volunteer which is WAY COOL (and I will seriously send a gold star on a postcard if you volunteer) or you can start a Spark program in your school or community. If an international reader does something with Spark, I'll send that person a gold star and the entire pack of star stickers...for crossing international waters!!

And if you live in a super rich community, maybe you still need Spark...you know, not all kids want to be hedge fund managers and ski resort owners. That's a really hard life and it's just like the kid in an inner city or deep rural school who's never had a levy pass and is using books from 1982.

Have a good week end readers!

Friday, November 11, 2011

Eleven Eleven Eleven.

The day is magical! 

Numbers make people wonky, and today is no different....it's all about numbers today. But in the United States, it's also about veterans and the military in general, so here are a few magical things we do every day, including on eleven, eleven, eleven and don't even realize they're manifestations of a singular type of freedom:

1- I'm looking out my window in suburban America and I don't see a military person anywhere. No guns, no patrols. Sure a cop rolls past every once in a while but that reassures me that people are safeguarding my well-being. I feel no threat.

2- I'm drinking coffee, made with potable water that was delivered automatically to my home in clean, safe form. No one is disrupting my service and I trust it will be there whenever I want it, all day every day.

3- My money has relatively stable worth. I know when I take $5 to the store I can buy a certain set of things with that amount. Price fluctuation is rampant in the rest of the world...but not mine.

4- I turned on lights this morning. And last night at 3am. And I'll do it later on today when the sun goes down. I can turn on a light any time I feel like it, because the power lines are up and running and no one's hijacked them.

5- If I decide RIGHT NOW to get in my car, I can drive TWO THOUSAND miles away, still be protected my own government and never have to show ID to pass a checkpoint. I will be protected by the same laws and will speak the same language and use the same currency all along the way.

6- My pal Karen is going to bring me some mail tomorrow. And every day except federal holidays and Sundays. Without fail.  And if I can give her an envelope with a sticker costing only 44 cents on it, she'll make sure it enters a pipeline that will safely deliver it anywhere I want it to go on our continental configuration of states. ANYWHERE! In under 3 days, on average! No one will open my letter and read it, or confiscate it, or in any other way invade the privacy afforded to what I've placed in that envelope.

7- I have more National Parks than I'll ever be able to visit in my lifetime available to me. They're kept clean and safe every day, just in case I decide to go there. 

These are just seven things I can do on any given day, without question or documentation. Are there a plethora of other people involved in all these activities? Yes. Police, municipal workers, teachers, bankers, postal workers, gas station workers, and water technicians. So what does any of this have to do with veterans and the military?

The military, whether on active patrol or training in Texas, are a force in the world's mind. We are safe just by their BEING there. People the globe over know that we are here. That we are mobile in a matter of moments, that we're smart and have practiced plans they've not dreamed of yet. Our borders and ports, coastlines and wilderness are free, safe and secure because the rest of the world leaves us alone. They do this because they know we are mighty, because we've shown them time and again that when it counts, we show up: in force, with uncommon determination and training. 

Our military, and the men and women who support it, is an unbelievable security net. We've sent them all over the world too many times to count on a sunny morning, and I have the ability to decide not to count it because of the blanket of freedom they provide. We are able to do our jobs because they do their job, every minute of every day. 

So thanks, military...past, present, future. I like my kitchen in suburbia. I like my grocery stores and my money, and my letter carrier. I like stores devoted to pet supplies and National Parks at the ready. I like interstate travel and the fact that I can go to the coast and not worry about a pirate ship. 

I appreciate the arms, legs and bits of psyche you've left all over the world. In the mountains, on the beaches, in foxholes and in the forests. There is no amount of gratitude that I can offer that equals the gift of life, of personality, and of body that have been sacrificed all over the planet so that I can sit here and listen to coffee brew, without a care for my personal or political safety. 

But anyway...thanks.

*Post Script: Readers, talk is cheap. DO something for a veteran or active military member or their family, and if you don't know what to do, check out the VA website. Say thanks, fly your flag, greet troops as they come home in the middle of the night, donate $10 for a calling card to send military personnel...there is something we can all do to say thank you.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Can Christmas survive?

Not with a policy like THIS....
Near as I can tell, a reader of
"The Consumerist" took this picture.
If it was you, leave a comment.
I'll credit you appropriately.

So you've no doubt seen this picture all over the Pinterest and Facebook sphere and I bet you've been waiting all day to read my thoughts on it. You can stop holding your breath because here they are!!

I am saddened to see the the further Godlessness-ing of this society. There is already such incredible censorship when it comes to Christmas that people barely even know it exists anymore! Thanks to the war on Christmas that's been being waged by the liberals, atheists and socialists who routinely shop there, Nordstrom has decided to continue their policy of killing Christmas once again. (It goes back a ways if you care to research, but if you're an American then don't bother. Who cares? Not us!)

Normally, I like Christmas to start on or around Memorial Day. It seems fitting to me for no real reason. But in the past several years I've had to wait for over the top decorations, Christmas carols and a sickening retail onslaught until as late as October.  OCTOBER!!  

That's right, the Godless heathens of America have limited me to just two months of deep spiritual connection to my God and the birth of His son. I've felt cheated by my nation in that restriction because there is truly nothing more holy than an aisle at Wal-Mart during the Christmas season. Honestly, it's when I (and all good Christians, really) feel closest to God.... And it's been tough, I admit it, but I've not wanted to be the squeaky wheel, and as most people who know me can attest, I'm tolerant beyond reasonable expectation. 


Nordstrom isn't putting up one bit of tinseled religion, not one ribbon of spiritual reflection, until after THANKSGIVING. What the hell is Thanksgiving anyway? All we do is sit around, eat, talk, be together, watch football and enjoy each other's company. Puh-lease. That's no way to embody or celebrate a season of love, charity and giving! If God wanted me to just hang out with my family and strengthen family bonds then why did He invent presents, or toys made in China??

Obviously, we should all boycott Nordstrom for their clear attack on Christmas. The company's policy of celebrating one holiday at a time would be fine with me...as long the holiday they celebrate is Christmas. 

It's okay, you can buy a new one at Nordy's...
but not till after Thanksgiving. Bastards.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Jargon! Synergy! Slap!


This is a late post. Well, I mean, this uploaded user interface is going live after the usual time frame due to the unforeseen consequences of a real-time grouping of ....people. 

I can't even fake it. I don't do jargon very well. 

To me, jargon is a language designed to classify "initiated" versus "non-initiated" and I wonder if it's a false way to judge. I can say the word "modalities" or I can say "formulas or expressions." In most cases, a wider audience will understand the second way of saying it. Just because I used the word "paradigm" rather than "way of thinking" doesn't mean I have a more enlightened paradigm. It just means I know a word that can leave a few people out of a conversation.

Now, here's the devil's advocate, flip side, polemic or opposite opinion (you pick what works best for you.) By using a language that's different from the norm, by speaking in abbreviations or in industry accepted forms of slang, we separate ourselves from each other and distinguish who our peers are. This is a good thing because it tells us who lives on the same level of experience and education as us. We can weed out, avulse, or expatriate anyone who claims to have knowledge fraudulently, erroneously or liar-ly.

And here's the thing about today's post...I don't side either way. It's annoying to speak to someone whose vernacular (or word choice) leaves me out of the conversation at a party. However if the conversation is taking place in an operating theater (or room) then I really have no business there and I should be escorted out when it becomes clear that I have no clue what cardiac dextroposition associated with hypoplastic right lung and abnormal pulmonary blood supply from the descending aorta presented with frequent concomitant lesions means. The jargon clearly has its place.

So here I am...baffled, discomfited and confused, because I don't know what I think...or how to say it even if I did. 

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Kardashian Split.

What's not to love?
Clint Brewer/Splash News Online

If you're like most people, and let's face it, you are...the news of yesterday's filing for divorce between one of the Kardashians (I think the one with long, dark hair) and some guy she met, has really thrown you for a loop. I can't blame you and here's why.

There's an awful lot of talk lately about marriage, who can do it, who decides who can do it, and the most important piece of all: just how sacred and sanctified it is. These are all really valid questions, especially when we learn that a reported TEN MILLION DOLLAR wedding resulted in the sacred union of committed souls for 72 days. I mean, come on! Seventy two days!! 

That's like...over 2 months. I think they they did their work, and bless their loving hearts, they just couldn't make a go of it.

I have heard that "irreconcilable differences" was the reason listed and I can readily admit that if you're arguing for 72 days then you probably can't resolve your issues...I wonder if they were arguing about the sanctity of marriage? Maybe they were discussing the covenant of love that they'd entered and just couldn't agree on what "covenant" means. I don't have all the answers.

Anyway, I'm just glad we're all clear that it's only one man and one woman who can do this sort of resolute and contemplative business, who can be responsible for this sort of sacred and lifelong commitment, and who can be trusted to dissolve it when it has become clear that the enduring agony cannot be mended. 

And it's pretty lucky there's still a basketball strike going on, huh? We wouldn't want anyone going too long without another union to sanctify!

I mean, really...just imagine if we had to watch two men or two women dissolve a solemn, lifelong promise, made with intent and before an all-loving God....after 72 days. That would just be a mockery of the blessed institution.

And a serious waste of ten million dollars.

These two have been together for 30 years...
Thank goodness they can't get married.
Photo: NYDailyNews.com