I've spent the past few days celebrating Passover with my family. One of the last things I saw online before shutting down my laptop on Monday was the start of a discussion regarding the selection of Heather Armstrong for the Forum on Workplace Flexibility at the White House. I say "discussion," because to me, that's what it seemed to be. A number of people I follow on Twitter had reactions to it, some positive, and some questioning her selection. Pretty standard stuff, I would think.
Now, before I get into this, let me just say that I have nothing but respect and admiration for what Heather has accomplished, for herself and her family. I am not jealous, and have no ax to grind, truly.
I think it's important to point this out because it seemed like things got out of hand in the time that I was gone. And I also think it's important to point this out, because my first reaction when I saw this announcement on Monday afternoon WAS leaning more toward the questioning-her-selection side of the spectrum. (With no malice, and no envy, mind you, but for reasons of my own that I'll get into in a minute.) Based on how things appeared to play out (at least in my post mortem view, earlier this evening), I wonder what would have happened if I had respectfully voiced those thoughts when I initially had them. Because from where I sit, it didn't seem to go well for those who had.
This saddens me, because regardless of what you, personally, think of Heather, or of her selection to participate in this forum, I don't think I'm out-and-out wrong for simply having questions about it. And frankly, I don't understand why people who do/did have questions tend to get painted with the brush of "jealous"/"hater". It's doubly perplexing because my questions have nothing to do with Heather as a person (never met her! I'm sure she's lovely!) and more to do with her selection for this particular forum. Am I to infer that I'm...now jealous of the selection committee? Or something? I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE. SOMEONE TELL ME.
I don't talk about it much, but I do work full-time for a large company. I love my job, value it, and respect my relationship with my employer. My company is incredible when it comes to workplace flexibility/accommodations, and pretty much the most I ever say here about it is that more workplaces should be like it. I recognize and do not take for granted the great setup that I have. I know most places aren't like that, and even with all the good, I still have Sophie's Choice-esque mornings. The ones where I ask myself if my kid is really sick, and needs me home, or whether s/he'll be okay without me.
The way I feel is this: Heather works for herself, and that's a gamechanger when it comes to the "workplace" concept. It is. And while I see the value of having a mother who blogs participating in this forum, her situation is incredibly unique; lightning in a bottle, if you will. I am not downplaying that her blog empire IS work, and that she has carved out a well-marketed and powerful niche for herself. But can you truly say, however, that she was the best representative of the momblogging world for a forum specifically on workplace flexibility? I'm not being rhetorical, by the way; can you? To the extent you want to argue that she was an appropriate person because has a wide audience to tap from, and from whom to solicit input...did she? I don't know, so I'm (again) not being rhetorical: did she? Those were the questions I had, and had asked myself (uh, until now). I'm obviously interested in your thoughts no matter where you fall, but regardless, why is any one of us right or wrong on this? Why does anyone need to be?
I hesitate to push "publish" on this, because I really and truly don't want to be incendiary or divisive, and it's my fervent hope that this doesn't come across as such. However, I need to speak up, because I don't like feeling as though questioning things online -- respectfully -- is inherently construed as some form of personal attack. And I certainly don't like hearing that we as bloggers should be happy simply because one of our own was selected. Questioning things isn't an automatic indication of hatred or envy, and the implication that we should be happy by mere virtue of the fact that a blogger was selected is, in my view, demeaning to all of us. My own questions and my concerns -- as a working mother in corporate America -- revolved around whether the best cross-section of representatives were chosen for the forum. I don't want to feel bad about that.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Ask a Jew: UNLEAVENED.
Every year, around this time, it starts; emails start rolling in, all “I’m dating a Jewish guy and he’s taking me to his family’s Passover seder. What do I do?" “What is 'the frog song' my kid is asking me to sing?” ”Do you have a good matzah ball recipe?” and “Four cups of wine at a seder is REQUIRED?” And while I dash off quick (but ostensibly informative?) answers, a lot of them have been similar, and so I decided that this year, I’m finally going to put together a proper Ask A Jew: Passover Edition post.
Some of these are a few years old, and some of them are brand new (after I solicited questions from Twitter earlier this evening), but it’s my hope that this post will arm you with everything you need to know about Passover.
Before we begin, my standard “Ask a Jew” disclaimer: I am not an expert, nor do I claim to be perfect in my observance. This is my understanding and my interpretation. Yours may be different, and we can all learn something from each other and still be right in our own ways. In fact, I’d LOVE to hear if you know of a different explanation, or have a question, but please be courteous.
What is the actual Passover story and what is the thing with blood ?
Okay, until I had received this question, I didn’t realize that this actually IS a very blood-intensive holiday, because my immediate thought was, “wait; WHICH blood thing”? This should be a fun explanation. First things first:
For those of you who have not seen The Ten Commandments( and subsequently developed inappropriate crushes on Moses/Charlton Heston WHAT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT), Passover celebrates the Jews' exodus from Egypt a frillion years ago. At the time, the Jews were enslaved by an evil pharaoh who refused to free them, and God -- through Moses -- brought the Ten Plagues upon the Egyptians (giving Pharaoh multiple chances throughout to free the Jews, before bringing on the subsequent onslaught of plagues). Finally, he relented and the Jews were emancipated. Yes, just like Mimi. The focal point of the holiday’s celebration is the seder (more on that in a minute).
As for “the thing with blood,” well, this can be one of a few things. The first of the Ten Plagues was blood, wherein all the water in Egypt turned to...blood. So, that’s Possible Blood Thing #1. Possible Blood Thing #2 is that the last of the plagues was, um, death of the firstborn (SO CHEERY THIS IS), and so, in advance of it, God commanded the Jews that, in order to be spared, they should sacrifice a lamb (I AM JUST REPORTING THE STORY FROM THE BIBLE, YOU GUYS), make a feast, and paint the doorposts of their homes with the lamb's blood so that he would literally pass over their houses when the plague, uh, swept on through. (And, yes, God is omnipotent, but this was less about him, and more about it being a test of faith for the Jewish slaves.) And finally, Possible Blood Thing #3 is…Blood libels? In the Middle Ages? I guess? If so: I PROMISE, YOU GUYS. WE DIDN’T DO IT.
Why don’t you eat bread on Passover?
At the time when Pharaoh told the Jews to leave, Egypt was basically PLAGUEVILLE, and he was anxious for them to leave. The Jews tossed their bread dough in their packs and hit the road, and as they made their way out of Egypt and into the hot desert, the dough baked into hard, flat cakes. We give a nod to that by not eating bread, and any type of food that has yeast and/or is fermented during the holiday.
Much of our diet during this time revolves around matzah, a large, square cracker-y thing that’s supposed to be akin to the aforementioned Hasty Desert Dough Crackers. No grilled cheese, no cupcakes, no pizza. I’ll be honest with you: it’s not super easy by any means, but another, more positive explanation (which I’ve mentioned in a prior post) is that matzah is plain, bland, and flat; it symbolizes our humble beginnings as slaves, and reminds us to be grateful for our freedom, and not be “puffed up” (metaphorically speaking) like bread and other leavened products. Which leads me into the next question…
Why am I seeing “Passover kosher” labels on food in the grocery store?
So, I’ve covered the general concept of “kosher” in an earlier post; for Passover, however, here, there’s the added challenge of finding not only kosher food, but kosher foods whose ingredients comport with the” no fermentation/yeast” thing. Fortunately, there’s a huge market for (and abundance of) kosher-for-Passover stuff, at least where I live (New York).
Do you have a good matzah ball recipe?
No. I mean, I did, but lately, they’ve been kind of dense and leaden. I’ve turned matzah ball making duties over to J, who’s some sort of matzah ball zen master. I have grand plans of recording him in action, cooking show-style, to learn his secrets.
My granny just told me about a matzah/caramel/chocolate/almond recipe (frozen). Do you know of such a thing?
INDEED I DO. Some of my favorite Passover food memories involve making this with my mom when I was a kid. We just called in “matzah candy,” but I much prefer Deb’s name, Chocolate Caramel Crack(ers). Her recipe for it is phenomenal, and yes, this treat tastes fantastic when it’s frozen. Enjoy!
What happens at a Seder?
The seder is the big festive meal that kicks off Passover. I should point out, though, that before you get to the actual meal part, there is A LOT OF TALKING AND POSSIBLY SINGING. It’s not bad, or anything, I’m just trying to manage any expectations you may have of eating quickly. (On the bright side, drinking four cups of wine is an integral part of the seder. Score!) The seder revolves around the retelling of the story of the exodus from Egypt, and if there are children present, prepare yourself for hearing all of their Passover songs and stories from school.
I hope that covers it. Happy Passover!
(Did I miss something? Let me know in the comments, and I’ll add it in!)
Some of these are a few years old, and some of them are brand new (after I solicited questions from Twitter earlier this evening), but it’s my hope that this post will arm you with everything you need to know about Passover.
Before we begin, my standard “Ask a Jew” disclaimer: I am not an expert, nor do I claim to be perfect in my observance. This is my understanding and my interpretation. Yours may be different, and we can all learn something from each other and still be right in our own ways. In fact, I’d LOVE to hear if you know of a different explanation, or have a question, but please be courteous.
What is the actual Passover story and what is the thing with blood ?
Okay, until I had received this question, I didn’t realize that this actually IS a very blood-intensive holiday, because my immediate thought was, “wait; WHICH blood thing”? This should be a fun explanation. First things first:
For those of you who have not seen The Ten Commandments( and subsequently developed inappropriate crushes on Moses/Charlton Heston WHAT I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT), Passover celebrates the Jews' exodus from Egypt a frillion years ago. At the time, the Jews were enslaved by an evil pharaoh who refused to free them, and God -- through Moses -- brought the Ten Plagues upon the Egyptians (giving Pharaoh multiple chances throughout to free the Jews, before bringing on the subsequent onslaught of plagues). Finally, he relented and the Jews were emancipated. Yes, just like Mimi. The focal point of the holiday’s celebration is the seder (more on that in a minute).
As for “the thing with blood,” well, this can be one of a few things. The first of the Ten Plagues was blood, wherein all the water in Egypt turned to...blood. So, that’s Possible Blood Thing #1. Possible Blood Thing #2 is that the last of the plagues was, um, death of the firstborn (SO CHEERY THIS IS), and so, in advance of it, God commanded the Jews that, in order to be spared, they should sacrifice a lamb (I AM JUST REPORTING THE STORY FROM THE BIBLE, YOU GUYS), make a feast, and paint the doorposts of their homes with the lamb's blood so that he would literally pass over their houses when the plague, uh, swept on through. (And, yes, God is omnipotent, but this was less about him, and more about it being a test of faith for the Jewish slaves.) And finally, Possible Blood Thing #3 is…Blood libels? In the Middle Ages? I guess? If so: I PROMISE, YOU GUYS. WE DIDN’T DO IT.
Why don’t you eat bread on Passover?
At the time when Pharaoh told the Jews to leave, Egypt was basically PLAGUEVILLE, and he was anxious for them to leave. The Jews tossed their bread dough in their packs and hit the road, and as they made their way out of Egypt and into the hot desert, the dough baked into hard, flat cakes. We give a nod to that by not eating bread, and any type of food that has yeast and/or is fermented during the holiday.
Much of our diet during this time revolves around matzah, a large, square cracker-y thing that’s supposed to be akin to the aforementioned Hasty Desert Dough Crackers. No grilled cheese, no cupcakes, no pizza. I’ll be honest with you: it’s not super easy by any means, but another, more positive explanation (which I’ve mentioned in a prior post) is that matzah is plain, bland, and flat; it symbolizes our humble beginnings as slaves, and reminds us to be grateful for our freedom, and not be “puffed up” (metaphorically speaking) like bread and other leavened products. Which leads me into the next question…
Why am I seeing “Passover kosher” labels on food in the grocery store?
So, I’ve covered the general concept of “kosher” in an earlier post; for Passover, however, here, there’s the added challenge of finding not only kosher food, but kosher foods whose ingredients comport with the” no fermentation/yeast” thing. Fortunately, there’s a huge market for (and abundance of) kosher-for-Passover stuff, at least where I live (New York).
Do you have a good matzah ball recipe?
No. I mean, I did, but lately, they’ve been kind of dense and leaden. I’ve turned matzah ball making duties over to J, who’s some sort of matzah ball zen master. I have grand plans of recording him in action, cooking show-style, to learn his secrets.
My granny just told me about a matzah/caramel/chocolate/almond recipe (frozen). Do you know of such a thing?
INDEED I DO. Some of my favorite Passover food memories involve making this with my mom when I was a kid. We just called in “matzah candy,” but I much prefer Deb’s name, Chocolate Caramel Crack(ers). Her recipe for it is phenomenal, and yes, this treat tastes fantastic when it’s frozen. Enjoy!
What happens at a Seder?
The seder is the big festive meal that kicks off Passover. I should point out, though, that before you get to the actual meal part, there is A LOT OF TALKING AND POSSIBLY SINGING. It’s not bad, or anything, I’m just trying to manage any expectations you may have of eating quickly. (On the bright side, drinking four cups of wine is an integral part of the seder. Score!) The seder revolves around the retelling of the story of the exodus from Egypt, and if there are children present, prepare yourself for hearing all of their Passover songs and stories from school.
I hope that covers it. Happy Passover!
(Did I miss something? Let me know in the comments, and I’ll add it in!)
Friday, March 26, 2010
Four Quick Things
1. Thank you so, so much for the new music suggestions! I've been furiously researching/downloading based on your comments.
2. I'm working on another rap, you guys. Naturally, J is OVERJOYED, as his picture-taking skills are being solicited again. Stay tuned.
3. We are taking our kids -- along with my sister in law's two kids -- for a cousin portrait on Sunday, as a gift for my in-laws. That is four (4) small children in total, none of whom are too keen on the whole "sitting still for extended periods of time" thing. I'm having heart palpitations already. I'm sure this will go just swimmingly.
4. I was just asked to join the crew over at Aiming Low. I'm thrilled and honored and generally super excited. My first post is over here, if you'd like to check it out, and involves the woeful tale of my son's awful, awful haircut, and purposeful use of the Comic Sans font. (Because in my mind, captions for bad haircuts require Comic Sans. Or something. I don't even know, man.)
Have a great weekend, everyone!
2. I'm working on another rap, you guys. Naturally, J is OVERJOYED, as his picture-taking skills are being solicited again. Stay tuned.
3. We are taking our kids -- along with my sister in law's two kids -- for a cousin portrait on Sunday, as a gift for my in-laws. That is four (4) small children in total, none of whom are too keen on the whole "sitting still for extended periods of time" thing. I'm having heart palpitations already. I'm sure this will go just swimmingly.
4. I was just asked to join the crew over at Aiming Low. I'm thrilled and honored and generally super excited. My first post is over here, if you'd like to check it out, and involves the woeful tale of my son's awful, awful haircut, and purposeful use of the Comic Sans font. (Because in my mind, captions for bad haircuts require Comic Sans. Or something. I don't even know, man.)
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
10 Random and Trivial Things I Am Into Rightthissecond
Oh, man, you guys. Things have been a bit hectic lately; I'm in the middle of approximately 38 things at once, and--BLAH, BLAH, NO ONE CARES, SELF. Anyway. While I attempt to extricate myself from the metaphorical weeds, here, some stuff I've been digging on.
(Besides you.)
(Diggin' on me.)
(Oh, like NO ONE ELSE has numerous TLC songs committed to memory.)
(Like that's weird, or something.)
1.Kettle Chips - Specifically, Buffalo Bleu flavor. Oh, my word.
2. Old Navy Slub Knit Skirt - I have purchased it in three colors. Hello, spring/summer staple.
3.Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA beer - It makes me want to stand up and applaud.
4. Fresh Strawberry Flowers perfume -My new spring scent! I will have you know that it smells not a whit like either strawberries or flowers. IT IS SO COMPLEX, YOU GUYS. And so am I. SO AM I.
5. Kashi GO Lean Chocolate Turtle Roll bars - I...I think these are supposed to be meal replacement bars? Or something? Basically, I eat them like the delicious candy bars they are.
6. Method Rice Milk + Mallow baby shampoo - Natural, smells amazing, and the cap is a hair-washing cup. THE CAP IS A HAIRWASHING CUP.
7. Pacifica Tuscan Blood Orange Body Butter - Heavenly.
8. Crotchety, grizzled old Frank Lapidus on Lost - Whatever, the heart wants what it wants.
9. Nars Lip Gloss in Easy Lover - I'm honestly curious if there's someone out there on whom this DOESN'T look good.
10. Vampire Weekend's "Giving Up The Gun" video - The song is fantastic on its own, but the video! The video! Jake Gyllenhaal! RZA! Joe Jonas! What's not to love?
What's rocking your world rightthissecond? Makeup, songs, snacks, gross old man crushes...nothing is off limits. (Especially songs...I'm in one of my music ruts again.)
Monday, March 15, 2010
How Do You Sleep At Night, Homeowners? No, Really; I'm Totally Serious.
A few years ago, J and I briefly toyed with the idea of purchasing a house. I have literally no idea how it happened, but one day, we were like, "Grown-ups ... buy ... houses. Yes? Right?" and the next day we were halfheartedly strolling through a series of homes. One had a purported "wine cellar" that, to us, looked much more like a lair in which a young lady might be urged to apply lotion on her skin, lest she get the hose again. There was no wine. NO WINE AT ALL. Only fear and mildew.
The worst (by which I mean "best") house was one that we dubbed Vagina House, due to the pink-hued bedroom of one of its inhabitants, decorated entirely in sketches, paintings and posters of lady business, and images of or related to the lady business milieu. Vagina House was and will forever be the yardstick whereby we measure any and all future prospective real estate purchases. "Well," we might say to each other, somewhere down the road, "this is bad and all, but it's no Vagina House," or alternately, "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, IT'S WORSE THAN VAGINA HOUSE. FLEE! FLEEEEE!!"
As you may have guessed, we quickly (like, in less than a week) abandoned our harebrained house-buying idea. We own a nice (if seemingly ever-shrinking and possibly haunted) apartment, we love our neighborhood, friends, kids' friends, and respective commutes, and so we figured we'd stay put for the foreseeable future. And as I sat here earlier tonight, watching J pack up for a business trip, I am even GLADDER that we didn't pursue Operation: Get House, House the Word for "Home," Not Scruffy Oddly Hot Persnickety Doctor But While We're on the Subject, MMMM.
(It's a long but necessary title, you see. For clarity.)
Every time he goes out of town -- EVERY TIME -- I set up ridiculous booby traps and sleep with one of his golf clubs at my side to fend off...the copious men who have plotted to rappel up to our 9th-floor dwelling? Tiger Woods? I don't even know. The point is, deep down, I figure that the kids and I are relatively safe in this building, and I CANNOT IMAGINE the mental energy I'd be expending on Potential Danger Scenarios if we lived in an actual house, unprotected by height and burly doormen. Thanks to the cumulative effects of numerous films on my impressionable mind, there is not a house genre out there that isn't fraught with some sort of intruder-related peril. Observe:
Farmhouse - Zombies. Murdersheep. Children of the corn. Cornfields in general. (See: The Lovely Bones, Signs, Food, Inc.. )
Lakehouse/cabin - Swamp Things. Deliverance people. Jason Voorhees. Keanu Reeves. Bears. Deer. (Well, that last one is really my husband's archnemesis. He's CONVINCED they're all going to fling themselves bodily in the direction of our car when we drive on country roads in the summer. Like they're just lying in wait for our specific car. OKAY, J.)
Beach house - Landsharks. Megasharks. Possibly Giant Octopus.
Regular, brightly-lit house on suburban street - Amityville-type horrors, and THIS, basically:
Now, granted, the Broadview commercials have been phenomenally and hilariously mocked by Target Women (I love you, Sarah Haskins!)...
and SNL, this week...
...but I still can't wrap my head around getting over the thought of The Homicidal Crowbar-Wielding Intruders that apparently just lie in wait for you, not unlike the deer of my husband's nightmares. I have to know: how do you people with houses do it? Does there come a point where you shrug off these thoughts (you know, assuming that you, like me, ever had them in the first place. Ha...ha?), and embrace things like logic and reason and sanity? Or...should we just commit to a lifetime of apartment living now?
The worst (by which I mean "best") house was one that we dubbed Vagina House, due to the pink-hued bedroom of one of its inhabitants, decorated entirely in sketches, paintings and posters of lady business, and images of or related to the lady business milieu. Vagina House was and will forever be the yardstick whereby we measure any and all future prospective real estate purchases. "Well," we might say to each other, somewhere down the road, "this is bad and all, but it's no Vagina House," or alternately, "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, IT'S WORSE THAN VAGINA HOUSE. FLEE! FLEEEEE!!"
As you may have guessed, we quickly (like, in less than a week) abandoned our harebrained house-buying idea. We own a nice (if seemingly ever-shrinking and possibly haunted) apartment, we love our neighborhood, friends, kids' friends, and respective commutes, and so we figured we'd stay put for the foreseeable future. And as I sat here earlier tonight, watching J pack up for a business trip, I am even GLADDER that we didn't pursue Operation: Get House, House the Word for "Home," Not Scruffy Oddly Hot Persnickety Doctor But While We're on the Subject, MMMM.
(It's a long but necessary title, you see. For clarity.)
Every time he goes out of town -- EVERY TIME -- I set up ridiculous booby traps and sleep with one of his golf clubs at my side to fend off...the copious men who have plotted to rappel up to our 9th-floor dwelling? Tiger Woods? I don't even know. The point is, deep down, I figure that the kids and I are relatively safe in this building, and I CANNOT IMAGINE the mental energy I'd be expending on Potential Danger Scenarios if we lived in an actual house, unprotected by height and burly doormen. Thanks to the cumulative effects of numerous films on my impressionable mind, there is not a house genre out there that isn't fraught with some sort of intruder-related peril. Observe:
Farmhouse - Zombies. Murdersheep. Children of the corn. Cornfields in general. (See: The Lovely Bones, Signs, Food, Inc.. )
Lakehouse/cabin - Swamp Things. Deliverance people. Jason Voorhees. Keanu Reeves. Bears. Deer. (Well, that last one is really my husband's archnemesis. He's CONVINCED they're all going to fling themselves bodily in the direction of our car when we drive on country roads in the summer. Like they're just lying in wait for our specific car. OKAY, J.)
Beach house - Landsharks. Megasharks. Possibly Giant Octopus.
Regular, brightly-lit house on suburban street - Amityville-type horrors, and THIS, basically:
Now, granted, the Broadview commercials have been phenomenally and hilariously mocked by Target Women (I love you, Sarah Haskins!)...
and SNL, this week...
...but I still can't wrap my head around getting over the thought of The Homicidal Crowbar-Wielding Intruders that apparently just lie in wait for you, not unlike the deer of my husband's nightmares. I have to know: how do you people with houses do it? Does there come a point where you shrug off these thoughts (you know, assuming that you, like me, ever had them in the first place. Ha...ha?), and embrace things like logic and reason and sanity? Or...should we just commit to a lifetime of apartment living now?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I'll Call This "Oscar Pop Quiz," But Really, This is More About My Inability to Turn Down a Dress-Up Excuse.
On Sunday night amidst the "glorious" "pageantry" of the Oscars and the attendant fantastic snarkfest on Twitter, Torrie had this to say to me:
You guys, you should know one thing about me, which is that I have always loved dressing up, and look for any excuse to do so. Alas, there are really very few opportunities for me to do so on a day-to-day basis. (Which: WHY NOT, LIFE?) And so, when Torrie essentially gave me the excuse, I told her that it. was. on.
The thing is, I feel like everything that could be snarked on about the dresses and the show in general has already been snarked on by this point, so instead, I decided to do a pop quiz of Oscar fashions.
* * * * *
Before we get to that, allow me to share with you a related IM conversation J and I had today:
Me: Do you have, like, a fake Oscar lying around your office? I need it for...something.
J: No, and--oh god, what are you up to? Are you doing another rap sequence that I have to photograph?
Me: No! This is totally different. It's Oscars impressions.
J: Right, so exactly the same then.
Me: Well, this is worse, because it involves costume changes. I just want to manage your expectations up front.
J: [redacted]
Me: Now that that's settled, are you opposed to me wasting stale challah rolls? I need them for a few of my impressions. I know we hate wasting food, but no one's eating them now. We should basically grind 'em up for tuppence a bag at this point. HAAHAAAA. Wait. I hate Mary Poppins.
J: ...I just want you to read that back to yourself. I'll take the pictures, but seriously.
* * * * *
ANYway, here we are now. Identify who I am from the cavalcade of worst-dressed Academy Awards-bound celebrities in the following five shots!
You guys, you should know one thing about me, which is that I have always loved dressing up, and look for any excuse to do so. Alas, there are really very few opportunities for me to do so on a day-to-day basis. (Which: WHY NOT, LIFE?) And so, when Torrie essentially gave me the excuse, I told her that it. was. on.
The thing is, I feel like everything that could be snarked on about the dresses and the show in general has already been snarked on by this point, so instead, I decided to do a pop quiz of Oscar fashions.
* * * * *
Before we get to that, allow me to share with you a related IM conversation J and I had today:
Me: Do you have, like, a fake Oscar lying around your office? I need it for...something.
J: No, and--oh god, what are you up to? Are you doing another rap sequence that I have to photograph?
Me: No! This is totally different. It's Oscars impressions.
J: Right, so exactly the same then.
Me: Well, this is worse, because it involves costume changes. I just want to manage your expectations up front.
J: [redacted]
Me: Now that that's settled, are you opposed to me wasting stale challah rolls? I need them for a few of my impressions. I know we hate wasting food, but no one's eating them now. We should basically grind 'em up for tuppence a bag at this point. HAAHAAAA. Wait. I hate Mary Poppins.
J: ...I just want you to read that back to yourself. I'll take the pictures, but seriously.
* * * * *
ANYway, here we are now. Identify who I am from the cavalcade of worst-dressed Academy Awards-bound celebrities in the following five shots!
Annnnd, go!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Key Moments Of My Week, In the Style of The Harper's Index II
3: Crazy neighbor fights eavesdropped on. (Oh yes, they're still at it.)
2: Minutes spent trying to rework that first sentence there to make it less grammatically awful, subsequently shrugging and giving up. Whatever, I ain't care.
4: Approximate hours spent with J laughing about, imitating, reminiscing about highlights of the fights, chief among them the delightful and inscrutable snippet, "You sonofabitch, my fucking UNDERPANTS!" Is "my fucking underpants" some sort of scoffing retort? Should I check Urban Dictionary? If I do, will I regret it? Probably, right? Did he steal them as punishment for something? Was he wearing them? Did it have something to do with the guy in San Clemente? Mystery!
5+: Times I hit the repeat button after watching OK Go's "This Too Shall Pass" video (full credit to Sundry; I saw it after she tweeted about it).
.02: Elapsed seconds before scrambling over to iTunes to download the song.
17,014: Approximate times I hit the repeat button after watching the alternate version of the video in the presence of my son, who was TRANSFIXED by the Rube Goldberg-iness at play here, and demanded to see it again. (Can you blame him?)
3: Vomit puddles stepped in. Oh, yeah: The children had (NON-OVERLAPPING CASES OF) Crazy Barf Stomach Virus, Now With More Barf that commenced in the middle of last week.
8 : Total number of Hurling Experiences we cleaned up during this magical time.
7: Rooms in our apartment (including bathrooms).
1: Carpeted rooms in said apartment.
14.285%- Resultant percentage of floor covered by carpet.
100% - Hurling experiences which took place on said carpet. (....And crib bumpers.)
1: Posts written about my penchant for what basically amounts to stealing clothes from pre-teen girls. I know! I'm sorry! (I am not sorry.)
23+ : Potential new names devised for my World Series of Pop Culture Dream Team. Now, thinking up names for a defunct show that last aired in 2006 is clearly time well spent, but I'm happy to say that I have a crack team that shares my beloved pastime. My husband and a few of our friends are on board, as are Ali, Heather, Mike and Brittany. Here's a front runner for our team name (thanks to Ali), and a sneak peak at our t-shirt design for WHEN the show comes back, and we compete as the true champions that we are:
2: Minutes spent trying to rework that first sentence there to make it less grammatically awful, subsequently shrugging and giving up. Whatever, I ain't care.
4: Approximate hours spent with J laughing about, imitating, reminiscing about highlights of the fights, chief among them the delightful and inscrutable snippet, "You sonofabitch, my fucking UNDERPANTS!" Is "my fucking underpants" some sort of scoffing retort? Should I check Urban Dictionary? If I do, will I regret it? Probably, right? Did he steal them as punishment for something? Was he wearing them? Did it have something to do with the guy in San Clemente? Mystery!
5+: Times I hit the repeat button after watching OK Go's "This Too Shall Pass" video (full credit to Sundry; I saw it after she tweeted about it).
.02: Elapsed seconds before scrambling over to iTunes to download the song.
17,014: Approximate times I hit the repeat button after watching the alternate version of the video in the presence of my son, who was TRANSFIXED by the Rube Goldberg-iness at play here, and demanded to see it again. (Can you blame him?)
3: Vomit puddles stepped in. Oh, yeah: The children had (NON-OVERLAPPING CASES OF) Crazy Barf Stomach Virus, Now With More Barf that commenced in the middle of last week.
8 : Total number of Hurling Experiences we cleaned up during this magical time.
7: Rooms in our apartment (including bathrooms).
1: Carpeted rooms in said apartment.
14.285%- Resultant percentage of floor covered by carpet.
100% - Hurling experiences which took place on said carpet. (....And crib bumpers.)
1: Posts written about my penchant for what basically amounts to stealing clothes from pre-teen girls. I know! I'm sorry! (I am not sorry.)
23+ : Potential new names devised for my World Series of Pop Culture Dream Team. Now, thinking up names for a defunct show that last aired in 2006 is clearly time well spent, but I'm happy to say that I have a crack team that shares my beloved pastime. My husband and a few of our friends are on board, as are Ali, Heather, Mike and Brittany. Here's a front runner for our team name (thanks to Ali), and a sneak peak at our t-shirt design for WHEN the show comes back, and we compete as the true champions that we are:
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