Thursday Pot Pourri

• When your kids are sick, are you the sympathetic mom who hovers just the right amount, always there to soothe a fevered brow, receiving thankful looks and wan smiles from your little patient?  Or do you turn into drill sergeant mom, who barks orders at the sick child to "DRINK THAT, OR ELSE!" and "WAKE UP! IT'S TIME FOR YOUR MEDICINE!"  Which mom are you, and why?

• You must remember the special supplies you used in school - those things that were only hauled out when you were learning a new skill that required a ruler, or a compass? Think of the things you'd do with that ruler.  Helicopters. Swords. All-purpose whacking sticks.  Markers were fun, too - who didn't stack them end-to-end to see if it would stand up in a sword fight before teacher turned around? Remember the big, pink erasers? They served better as pencil holders than erasers:  Dig that pencil tip into the eraser - there! You can always find your pencil, now.  What is the goofiest thing you ever used your school supplies for? The following comes to you courtesy of GraphJam:

• Mental Floss contains a host of articles to keep you procrastinating researching busy for a few hours.  Since Halloween is coming up, here are a few costumes from the article "Halloween Costumes to Inflict upon the Innocent."   What is your favorite Halloween costume from childhood?



Baby lobster: Who could resist?






Come on, we all know you blame your own farts
on the baby.



• Just in case you thought YOUR workplace was the only truly bizarre place to be, check this out:

"Meet Chuck, the Dark Lord of data entry."  Picture Itookatwork.com

And you thought YOU had the co-worker from hell?  P.S.  When your religious education director asks you what you like the kids to call you, "Spawn of Satan" is probably not the best answer.  Did you ever work with someone who truly gave you the willies?

• A final nod to Halloween, courtesy of GraphJam. How do you rate your Halloween candy? Or, rather, your kids' Halloween candy?  I know the chocolate always ranked first, and the Slo Pokes toward the bottom of the list, along with the ubiquitous hard lumps of Bazooka Gum, which was only closely preceded by DumDum Suckers.  Just in case your brain is still on sugar overload from last year's Halloween intake, here's a handy-dandy chart to help you organize which treats to pilfer from the children:



graphjams.com

  What is your favorite Halloween candy?

Commemorative Plate Hell and other Things we Should Live Without

Every Sunday newspaper brings with it many advertisements for useful as well as entirely useless "What the HELL were they thinking" things.



What the HELL were they thinking?



The prize this week goes to whomever decided monkeys were really cute and marketed this (photo at right). 

In my opinion, the only cute monkey is the one behind bars in a zoo, or running wild in some place I'll never encounter it. I personally find monkeys rather . . . disgusting.



Curious George,
who was a good little monkey
and always curious.
newton.lib.ia.us



Except for Curious George.  Who was, as we all know, a good little monkey and always curious. 

I don't know what it is.  Perhaps there are more people in this world with a large amount of expendable income who are really into collecting this sort of thing. 

I have nothing against people who want to collect things, because I have my fair share of "collections" like books, stickers, and stationery products that I use up, and fabric (which I also use up) and stuff like that.  But - I really wonder WHY in the world would anybody want to collect a statue of a monkey named "Mollie" who is wearing a toddler girl outfit and not looking at all the least bit cuddly? Oh, and this object can be had "for 5 interest-free installments of just $29.99" (that translates into just $149.95, if you don't want to do the math).

Michaelangelo's David
garden-statues.com

What .... did Michaelangelo create this creepy looking monkey, and thus justify the cost?



Princess Diana & Prince Charles
Too bad he turned into a frog
thriftshop.net



I think not.

The next worst thing, I think, would be to start purchasing commemorative plates.  I know I want to memorialize Princess Diana & Prince Charles, Elvis (young and swinging, as well as old and pudgy), the Beatles, and various objects that let the world know how materialistic I really am - like motorcycles, antique cars, and whatnot.



"Now they're singing for Jesus."
sonic.net

I'm thinking my personal favorite, though is this one.

For all I know, Jesus liked Elvis's gospel tunes as well as the irrepressibly danceable "Jailhouse Rock."  He might also have greatly enjoyed "Thriller" and "She's Outta my Life." Perhaps Jesus even, for a time, donned a sparkled glove and slicked his hair back in an Elvis-style pompadour.

Somehow though, the image of Our Savior with his arms outstretched and upraised in the background of a man in black who looks like a circus clown and a man who looks, without his mic, like he might be ready to vomit, doesn't strike me as particularly - reverent - let alone like He is happy to have Elvis and Michael bopping about in the heavenly clouds.

I wonder, instead, if our Savior is saying, "Aw come on Dad, do I HAVE to have my picture taken for a commemorative plate with these two?  I mean, I like Elvis - he was a good boy and loved his mother (Jesus, and America, too), and I know Michael was a good boy when he was a boy, but - well, I'm really not sure this is an image I want to portray to our faithful, Dad . . . Can I take a rain check?"





School Pictures Suck

If today were Friday, I'd call this post The Friday Fumbles.

As it stands, it's only Thursday - and Thursday morning, at that.

My mind is empty of any rational thought.

Instead, there are a jillion things roaming around my brain, colliding and trying to make some sort of sense.  I'm sure all of us have days like that, and it's not just me. 

All I can think of right now are school pictures.  That's a bad thing. 

School pictures have got to be one of the worst forms of torture known to mankind.  Our school photos have been sent home within the last day or two, and I must say, they are truly horrific.  Being employed at a school, I am required to have a photo identification card.



chicagodancesingles.com



I dutifully wait in line for my turn at the camera.  Gone are the days when you'd sit on the stool with your head turned one way, torso another, and from the waist down pointing yet another direction.  Now, there are paper feet to stand on - remniscent of those old "Learn to dance" cut-out feet.

And, the head&shoulders pose is now passe. Along with the new, cut-out feet, we are subjected to the 3/4 body shot. From about waist up, hands folded demurely, this pose shows every bulge and clothing wrinkle you possess.



Grandpa Simpson



No one can possibly be more adept at making your 4th grader look stoned, the most attractive person look like they got hit by a Mack truck, the least attractive person look even more unattractive, find the wimpiest poses, the most age-inappropriate poses - capturing into infinity the way we weren't back in "dickety-two" (as Grandpa Simpson would say).

Here are some yearbook photo gems to help us tip our hats to the School Photographer.

 Let no child be left behind from the pain of school photos.

 

bodybuilding.com
Looks like something from
the set of "Saved by the Bell."

 

huffingtonpost.com
Mug shot, mayhap? Well, at
least he looks happy.



ebaumsworld.com
Mirror, Mirror, in my hand
This is the weirdest pose in the land.



current.com
No, wait. THIS is the weirdest
pose in the land.

huffingtonpost.com
Reminds me of "Meathead" from All in the Family.

tvguide.com
Meathead, All in the Family

badyearbookphotos.com
Don't mess with her - not only can she bake that
cherry pie, Billy Boy, she can whup your ass, too.




buzzfeed.com
Yep. Another photo of some innocent
girl looking stoned out of her mind.



huffingtonpst.com
What the hell?





awfulyearbook.com
The web site title says it all.



huffingtonpost.com
I loved the 1980s, and would have (possibly) killed
to have hair that looked like this every day.



huffingtonpost.com
Huffington Post dubbed this photo "Eat my Shorts." Seems
appropriate.  I feel kind of bad for the guy, though, being immortalized
this way because nobody insisted he go to picture re-take day. 
Oh. Maybe this IS the retake.


 

badyearbookphotos.com
He doesn't just *look* stoned, he probably is.

 

badyearbookphotos.com
I like a guy who knows how to dress up.
I'm betting it was the photographer who
was stoned during this take, though.







Duck, Duck, Goosed

Mama Kat over at Mama's Losin' it is at it again, with her weekly writing prompts and challenges.  This week, her list of prompts invites us to write about a "wardrobe malfunction," a phrase coined after the mishap at the 2004 Super Bowl half-time festivities.

My own wardrobe malfunction was not quite so dramatic.  First, it didn't happen in front of millions of avid football fans.  Also, it didn't bare anything that was really worth mentioning, let alone seeing.  But let's face it.  At one point or another, all of us have had some sort of "wardrobe malfunction," whether it be the shoelace that never stays tied, the neck tie that is always crooked, the pants zipper that never stays zipped, the bra strap that never stays in place, just to name a few.


The Breakfast Club
How angst-filled
can we get?
impawards.com



So, here's my big wardrobe malfunction story.



andyscarpets.com



 I'm in high school. 

Oh, the angst.

In drama class, we're playing a lively round of "Duck, Duck, Goose," which can be a really good warm-up activity to get the students loosened up and less focused on their angst  (because you know how high school can be) and ready for some dramatic activity. 

The class is having a good time.  We're gamely chasing the Goose, hoping that we can get the Goose before he/she slips back into the empty space within the circle, so we don't have to run around like . . . a silly goose.



clothing.shop.ebay.com
remember the pantyhose
package?



I had an afternoon job that started right after lunch, and didn't have much time to go back home to change clothes.  It was an office job, and even though I was a student, I had to dress up a little bit. On the fateful Duck, Duck, Goose day, I was wearing my high heels, nylons - yes, once upon a time, teen-aged girls and older women alike wore - gasp - pantyhose!!!! - when they dressed up. 

My skirt was a pencil skirt - slim-fitting, slightly longer than the one pictured here (below), and had a slit up the back so you could walk.

 Of course, someone picked me as the Goose - I had already ditched my shoes, because only Charlie's Angels types and women on police shows can run in high heels.  But, as I jumped up, the slit in the back of my skirt got just. . . a little. . . bit . . . longer.  With a resounding RRRRiiiiIIIIIIP. 

For a brief moment, everyone stopped, wondering what that sound was. 

Indecision.

misook.com

Chase?

Sit down in mortification?

Run, sobbing, from the room?

Chase?

Chase.  Definitely.

Sans high-heeled shoes, with a ripped out seam, I chased my Goose and got him before he could sit down in the empty place in the circle. 



No-Pants Dance
People of Walmart

I laughed, along with everyone else.  What else was there to do?  Even though the seam in the back of my skirt had ripped, I still exposed less skin than some people who hang out at Walmart.  And, unlike the shopper on the right, nobody in the class knew if my underwear was pink, or tighty-whitey.  Because, back then, girls also wore slips with their skirts or dresses.  The rip just made the skirt look like a mini-skirt that hadn't been completely cut off, yet.

After Goosing my prey, the teacher suggested I hie myself to the home ec. room to see if the teacher there would be willing to stitch up my skirt.  There, I was gently but firmly lectured by the home ec. teacher that she had classes to teach, and under no circumstances could she take time out of her class to stitch up my skirt and she really wished that other teachers would quit sending their students to her with their wardrobe malfunctions (Except, back in the 1980s, "wardrobe malfunction" didn't exist in our lexicography).

 But, she did have safety pins.  So, thanking the teacher profusely, I headed to the bathroom to pin my skirt back together until such time as I could head home and change into something else.  Safety pins were a much better alternative to the stapler, for sure.

The next day in class, I had a little teasing to put up with - but not much, I think, because I handled the incident with humor.  Hey, I tagged the Goose out, so why not laugh? 



Kids: Life's Great Paradox

More accurately, the title should read, "Kids: Our attitude toward them is paradoxical." Is paradoxical even a word?





thundafunda.com



• We can't wait to have children.  Then, we have them.  To paraphrase Shrek,  "They poop and they cry and they cry when they poop and they eat and they cry and they cry when they eat and then they poop some more. . ." and we say, "Man, I can't wait until this kid is potty trained and sleeps through the night." 
• When the kids were potty trained, it was like getting a pay raise.  When they slept through the night, we still woke up at 3 a.m. and would tiptoe into the bedroom and make sure they were still breathing.




andyspiders.com



• We love holding the babies.  They're small, cherubic, warm, snuggly.  And we say, "Holy cow, I can't wait until this kid is old enough to walk because my back is killing me from carrying him/her all over, wherever we go."  Then, the kid learns to walk and we wish for a way to corral him so he stays out of mischeif.




gmhightechperformance.com



• At first, we're so thrilled to see and own every piece of baby paraphernelia known to mankind.  Then, as baby grows, we say, "This crap is expensive! What do we need that for?" And you buy it anyway.  You say, "I can't wait until they outgrow this stuff and we don't have to buy it anymore."
• Then, we discover by around age sixteen, the price of the kid's toys has gone up considerably.




youngadults.about.com



• Our kids drive us crazy, we think, and we say we can't wait until the move out of the house.  No more waiting up nights, wondering if they're all right while they're out with their friends.  No more hollering, "Turn down that music!" or "Take out the trash!" or "Did you do your homework?"  Then, the kids are off to college, or moving out "for good," and suddenly we wish they were home, again.




maternitybykoren.com



• We say, "Just wait until you have kids of your own," because we feel we are superior in our knowledge that our own kids will be driven absolutely crazy like we were.  We say, "I hope you have a kid just. . . like. . . yourself." And we mean it, for every time our kids were sullen, snotty, sweet, caring, kind, wise. . ." And then, our kids have kids and suddenly we feel old - because we're grandparents, and in holding that grandchild, we suddenly remember what it was like to hold our own for the very first time - and how we were so thrilled to have that new life.  And then we remember that it's time for the 3 a.m. feeding and we say, "They poop and they cry and they cry when the poop. . ."

As my daughter said to me the other day, "What is it with grown ups? One day they want us to be babies, and the next day they want us to be grown up."

I said, "Just wait until you have kids of your own."

More Monday Miscellaney



lolcats - icanhascheezburger.com

 It's Monday, and I've got "It's Friday, I'm in Love," on the brain.  I guess this means it's time for more Monday Miscellaney.  Lucky you!

• There's nothing like your pre-teen telling you the computer keyboard is frozen to start your day off right.  After a change of batteries, some messing around with clicking this button or that, running the virus scan and restarting the computer, the keyboard works again. Whew. Double whew. I'd be lost without the home computer.
• I'm thinking Halloween is my favorite holiday, hands-down.  I mentioned to a relative last night that "We're getting ready for Halloween, here," and got the response, "WHAT? It's only October 3!"  That gave me pause for all of five seconds.  I'll blame it on having kids, though I suspect that even without the kids, I'd have gotten out the pumpkins and skeletons anyhow.  At least I waited until October 2nd to do it.  I like the costumes, the free candy (though, at my age, the candy isn't free anymore), and the decorations.  It's rather low-pressure, unlike Christmas.
• It's weird to start seeing people you know in the obituary column who are your age.  This isn't a new phenomenon by any means, but it always takes one by surprise. 
• Why is it that during 40-degree weather, I still see people wearing flip flops? Seriously? I can't wait until snowfall.  Wonder how many will be losing toes to frostbite.




totalfilm.com
"MY TOES! MY TOES! Why didn't
I wear my fur-lined boots?"


• I feel privileged to help serve Mass at our local parish.  My family is on the schedule once a month.  For the last 6 weeks, however, we've not only served on our scheduled date and time, but also been pinch-hitting for others who don't bother to show up, let alone arrange for a substitute.  My husband has lately taken to asking me, "Are you scheduled to do anything, this time?" My response is usually, "No," which he quickly follows up with, "Yeah, until you get there."  Then he stifles snickers of "I told you so," when someone taps my shoulder and says, "Can you fill in, today?"  I really don't mind - except that I'm starting to feel resentful toward those who are finding it impossible to fulfill their committment.  To them, I'd like to say, "You signed on for this.  It is one hour, one weekend, per month.  If you can't fulfill the duty, then ask to be taken off the schedule, and until that happens, find someone to fill in for you.  You aren't the only person who might like to sit with their family now and then during a church service.  It is extremely rude and inconsiderate of you to skip out when you know you're scheduled, and then when you do show up, it's within two minutes of start time - leaving everyone to wonder if you'll even be here.  You can do better than that!"




thegreenhead.com
peanut butter & jelly spreader


• Wow, but I'm tired of fundraisers.  Every year, our school does the same fundraiser. In my opinion, the catalog is full of stuff that could be purchased elsewhere, and for less. For example, those handy suction-cup containers you can stick in the shower - the catalog had them for $2.00 more than the local Meijer.  The chocolates look mouthwateringly delicious until you get them.  Then, you discover they're all about the size of a fifty-cent piece and 2/3 of the box is raised cardboard with the chocolates artfully spread on top of that to make the container look like it's brimming with sweetness.  And I really need to spend $7.50 on a "peanut butter & jelly spreader."  I'm thinking most of this stuff probably comes from the Lillian Vernon catalog to begin with.
• Excuses, excuses. I do feel badly, sometimes, when kids tell me they've lost an important piece of homework, or that they couldn't do the homework because they were being shuffled here and there, often at the parent's whim and will, and no one had time to sit down and help with the work.  Other times, it's generally a case of the kid being extremely disorganized and sitting in front of the computer or video games instead of prioritizing what really  needs to be done.




sweetcatastrophecakes.blogspot.com


• At what grade, in school, do you remember the teacher having to tell the class, "In order to get a birthday treat, you need to be seated at your desk and not swarming Alfred.  I expect to hear a 'thank you' to Alfred when he brings your treat to you."  Now, I'm not so old as to believe that my elementary school days are filled with rosy-cheeked, well-behaved children.  I'm sure we were little monsters at times - in fact, I know we were.  But - I seriously don't recall my teachers ever telling us to be seated at birthday treat time. I don't think most of us dared to swarm the birthday kid, hoping to pick over each decorated cupcake in hopes of getting the one with the most frosting.  Really, kids?  You're ten and eleven years old now. What happened to manners?




makeupadviceforum.com


• Of course, what can I expect when I see what's left in the staff room of the rolls from a meeting.  Someone took out the center part of the roll and left the rest in the box.  My reaction was laughing disbelief: This is something we'd do to each other, at home, I thought - recalling the days when my brothers would say, as one of us eyed that last piece of pie or cake, "That's mine - I spit on it."
• That lipstick you were so happy to find that cost $1.99?  It's going to go on your lips like $1.99, too.  Ever try to color your lips with crayon? Not even a Crayola, but one of those generic off-brand crayons? That's what $1.99 lipstick is like. Don't waste your money.  On the other hand, if the lipstick is $1.99 because it's been marked down from $12.00 or something, stock up.
• While I'm on the subject of lipstick, why is it when I look at the wide array of colors available I end up purchasing something nearly the same shade as what I have at home? I guess I'm just meant to wear one shade of lipstick.
• Where art thou, 2 yards of black lace? I've searched high and low for this lace now that I want it for a Halloween costume, and do you think I can find it?  Just my luck, I'll find it November 1st.

Well, that's enough Monday Miscellany for me, and likely, for you.  What random thoughts are on your mind, today?