What did those kids do to that nice lady?

Friday, October 11, 2013

Brightly Lit Dressing Rooms

Okay.  I mean.  Why?  You know what I’m talking about.  Why do dressing rooms have florescent lights?  This makes no sense to me. Who is in charge of this?  Is it somebody’s idea of a joke?  Not only do you have to go jean shopping today, you get to do it in a small room bright with unflattering light!  Oh, those pants feel a little tight?  Well, to make you feel even BETTER about yourself, we’ve gone ahead and put special lighting in here to highlight those unfortunate stretch marks your Firstborn inflicted upon you while in-utero, and juuusstt in case you are all like, these are my Warrior Marks, not Stretch Marks, that doesn’t explain how your lower abdomen slightly resembles a burrito when you bend over, so just go ahead and get a better view of that.  And OH!!  We’ve also gone ahead and installed this dressing room with TWO mirrors...one BEHIND you, so when you’re like, trying on bathing suits, you can get a goooood look at your ass in these florescent lights.  I mean, they say almost every woman has cellulite, but in case you thought maybe you didn’t, YOU WERE WRONG.  And there it is in all it’s glory.  BWHAAAA!!!!  
You would think that maybe it’s just the Targets of the world with badly lit dressing rooms.  But no. Nope.  Bra shopping at Nordstroms?  Yep.  Go ahead and take your shirt off and let a nice lady feel you up while staring at the bra strap fat in terrible lighting.  Or that time I went to JCrew looking for a pair of shorts and instead left crying and more convinced than ever that I should just not wear shorts.  Ever.  (Side note-Do you think Michelle Obama ever left JCrew crying?)  And I realize that maybe this...aversion...I have to Brightly Lit Dressing Rooms says more about my insecurities and body dysmorphia, but, still, would it kill retails stores to put in a nice, dim light?  Or just one that doesn’t make me feel like I’m in a line up?   Think how much better bathing suit shopping would be if they put in a skinny mirror and a 55 watt lightbulb?  Damn, I might even buy two bathing suits then!  I might want to try them all on because LOOK HOW GOOD I LOOK IN THIS LIGHT!!  And when you think about it that way, really, who can say that I am doing anything except trying to boost retail sales to improve our economy?  We don’t need women leaving dressing rooms crying!  We need them leaving full of confidence and empty wallets!  THIS IS FOR YOU, AMERICA!

You’re welcome.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Really Skinny People

The thing about living in an area of the country where people are ultra-obsessed with carbs and protein and bones protruding through their bodies is that you easily lose sight of what is “normal.”  As you can imagine, when one is surrounded by professional volleyball players and wannabe swimsuit models, it is quite easy to develop a complex and/or psychological issues.  And you know, damn it!  I’m tired of feeling fat all the time because all these Really Skinny People just can’t bring it down a notch.  Good God, what is this desire to be less than zero?  I will never, ever be a Really Skinny Person and I don’t even want to be, so why am I always feeling so bad about myself because my ass can fill out my jeans?  So, in order to try and put a stop, at least a temporary one, to my feelings of inadequacy, I’ve composed a couple of lists to remind me that Really Skinny People might be really skinny, but they are also maybe just a teensy weensy, little tiny bit crazy.
Really Skinny People have many fears.  Among them:
Missed workouts
Spin class being cancelled
Going from a size 2 to a size 4.  (Fat ass.)
Running out of kale

Really Skinny People also have many obsessions.  Among them:

Whole Foods
Organic coconuts
Coconut water
Coconut milk
Coconut oil
Whole Foods

(I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of these Really Skinny People survive on coconut alone.)

Also, on a somewhat related side note: I’ve recently decided that I can’t be friends with anyone who wants to get a chicken in their backyard so they can have fresh eggs. I don’t want to not like you, but you’re making it hard with this Urban Chicken Coop thing. 

I just...can’t...jump on board of the Really Skinny People ship.  It’s too consuming. So, I’m going to try and forgive myself for my imperfections and maybe even try to enjoy them.  So, go ahead and get back to your kale smoothies.  I’m going to go have an ice cream cone with my kids.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Teenagers Drinking Coffee/Almond Milk/Waiting in Line

Sometimes I feel like I don’t even need to explain things...like Teenagers Drinking Coffee should really be enough for someone to read and say, Oh yes...that is totally annoying, but if for some reason you’re all...what?  Why is it annoying for teenagers to drink coffee?...I’ll share.
First of all, Teenagers: please stop trying to be all grown up and stuff.  Trust me...you have the rest of your life to be Grown.  I still feel like an insecure 16 year old who is not nearly Grown, but for the sake of my Children, I need to appear that I’m Grown and like...know how to do stuff.  Drinking coffee makes you look like you want to be Grown, but really, just stop drinking coffee and go outside and play with your friends.  You’ll thank me later.

Second of all, this makes me angry because of the giggles I am forced to listen to as seven 15 year old girls, dressed alarmingly hipster prostitutes, order  frapuccinos with no whipped cream, followed by the 27 minutes I have to wait while the sole barista makes the said frappucinos.  Because you know what?  All I want is a cup of coffee.  I don’t even want a latte or a mocha.  And no, I do not want anything with soy or almond milk because, although I don’t necessarily have anything against soy beans or almonds, I just don’t want to sound like an asshole when I order coffee.  I just want coffee.  In a cup.  I’ll add the cream myself.  Cream from a cow.  When did dairy become the devil?  When did almonds step up and be all, Oh, Dairy...I am now the new Superior Milk in the Land?  Also, I think Starbucks should have a special line for people like me.    All the frappucino and soy chai almond tea people can stand in one line and the people who take approximately 17 seconds to order, receive and pay for their coffee can stand in another line? Wouldn’t that make the world a better place?  Everybody wins.  Again, you can thank me later.

And while we’re at it, Teenage Girls?  Put some damn clothes on.  Your worth and value in this life are so much more than your booty shorts.  Think about it.  (And your Mother let you wear that?  Oh wait...she’s wearing the same thing.  You might be screwed.)

Monday, October 7, 2013

Things That Make Me Angry: Take 1


I’m pretty sure you just shuddered when you read that.  And if you read ‘Meal Planning’ and a shiver didn’t go up and down your spine, then you have no idea how much I envy you.  I will happily shop for the food.  I will happily cook the food.  I do not mind cleaning up the food.  But, oh my God, if you could only know how much time a Mother’s Brain is thinking about FOOD and what’s for dinner, and what’s going in lunch boxes and who gets what snack and we had apples for lunch should we have grapes for dinner...you just might be nicer to her.  Does your brain sound like mine?  See below.  

The Thought Process of the Meal Planner: 

Okay.  This week. Let’s see.  I could make that, but we just had it last week, but it’s so easy and Picky Eater won’t protest too greatly.  But Good Eater requested this and why shouldn’t she be rewarded for not having a mental breakdown when a vegetable is presented on her plate?  Okay, so we’ll have that tonight and Picky Eater can just deal with his shit.  Then tomorrow, let’s see, I could make that, but I really don’t want to eat all those carbs, but I know everyone will eat that and Husband will probably be really happy about it so I guess I could just put my part over lettuce because lettuce is the new bread and I’ll just be jealous of everyone else at the table.  Let’s see...next night...hmmm...I could make that, no...just had that.  How about this?  Oh God, I would rather stab my ears with a fork than listen to the complaining about serving that for dinner.  Oh...what about this?  That sounds delicious and healthy and somewhat kid friendly...oh wait Husband doesn’t like sweet potatoes.  But why should I care if He doesn’t like them?  Why can’t I just have some fucking sweet potatoes once in a while?  I’m just going to do it.  I’m going to make that.  Okay....so....let’s see.  What’s next?  Okay...um...what can I make...let me think...anyone have any requests?  No?  Okay, um...I could do...um...something new? Yes! Something new.  Let’s see.  Let me thumb through this cookbook.  Oooo...that looks good, except Picky Eater...oh Good Lord he would eat absolutely none of that.  Ohhh....yum...I could make that...if I wanted to be rewarded with whining.  Oh, how about this?  Yes...that looks good.  Good Eater will probably eat that, Husband should like that, Picky Eater will...um...shit.

Fuck it.  We’re having pizza.

And repeat.  Day after day...week after week...for, apparently, THE REST OF MY LIFE.