Monday, November 14, 2011

Scenes from a Living Room on a Monday Night

My husband sits across the living room from me, concentrating on his phone, as I stare intently at my laptop. I get a notification that he’s just played his turn at Words with Friends. 57 points, a triple word and triple letter score. He’s beating me again. I take my turn, My vocabulary and letter choices are never enough to win.

Back in the old days, before our smart phones and social networking games we used to talk to each other…using our mouths and voices. Now it’s just “brrrring” another notification that it’s my turn. We often don’t even look up at each other to say “nice move” or “how dare you.”

Maybe later, in the bedroom, if we’re in the mood, we’ll do some sexting. Funny how today's technology can bring those who are thousands of miles apart into the same room...and make those of us in the same room feel thousands of miles apart. Isn't it ironic. Yes, I think. 

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Balloon Dresses Popping Up Onto the Fashion Scene

When I found a bag of 50 extra stretchy, brightly colored balloons leftover from my son's recent birthday party, I thought of using them as BB gun targets, or having a helium karaoke party, maybe even performing my own Angioplasty (insurance companies these days are so picky about what they'll cover). But designing a balloon party dress somehow never made the list. I'm not talking about those floaty, bubbly satin numbers that Paris Hilton is always photographed wearing into Hollywood night clubs with names like Vitamin X and Teflon. I'm talking actual squeaky, blow up, rubber balloons here.

According to Internet fashion news Web sites, balloon artists like Ori Livney and Steven Jones (you've heard of them...right?) are no longer satisfied with wowing four year olds by twisting balloons into light sabers, crowns and poodles. They've upped the ante for all to follow creating blown up, rubber dress couture (that undoubtedly squeaks terribly when you move). Using hundreds of partially inflated balloons, these designers are piecing together wearable works of art that are popping up all over.
Here are some examples.

The two-piece sunflower themed outfit (right) is quite versatile and can be worn to many events like garden parties, kids' birthday parties, sun worshipper festivals and Milan fashion shows that feature clothing that no one in real life actually wears. Made from somewhere between 5,000 and 7 trillion yellow and brown balloons, it's sure to be a crowd pleaser.

If you're planning a wedding and searching for that perfect, one of a kind, gown that will have everyone breathless (because they had to help blow up your dress) choose a design like this one. However, you'll want to stay away from anything sharp until the honeymoon begins.


Every fall, plaid makes a comeback on high school and college campuses. If you want to stand out, try wearing this ensemble with knee socks, a leather backpack and lots of black eye-liner to class. Avril Lavigne and the Michelin Man will be seriously jealous. Note: This also doubles as a flamenco dancing pirate costume (in case you were looking for one).


I'm simply blown away by the creativity of balloon fashion designers, as I'm sure you are too. However, before you go out and replace your current wardrobe with an inflatable one, take caution and consider the following.
1) While wearing balloon clothing, you can no longer play with your pet house cat, porcupine, hedgehog or puffer fish.
2) You'll want to avoid your cactus collection.
3) No playing darts!
4) If you'll be making your own balloon dress, resist the urge to fill them with helium. One designer floated off and was never seen or heard from again. However, she may have recently been picked up on a satellite orbiting Jupiter.
5) Take a hint from Janet Jackson. In case you have a popping wardrobe malfunction, please, PLEASE wear underwear.
6) Static cling can present a problem. Be sure to pull your hair back so it's not standing on end. Also no doing laundry in these dresses. You don't want to make a grand ball entrance with your husband's black socks stuck to your balloon dress.
7) I hope you're not the active type. This isn't a sweat suit you'll be wearing. No running, jumping, somersaults, cartwheels, games of Twister, playing Leap Frog or even sitting down. You can pretty much just stand there. I think spinning around is probably okay as long as you don't get dizzy and fall down.

While balloons as a fashion material probably won't replace cotton or polyester anytime soon, they make stunning conversation pieces that will last for at least one wearing (as long as you follow the suggestions above).

Smile Models. It's a Fashion Show, Not a Funeral

I've been following the glitzy pomp and progress of New York's Fashion Week 2008. Through all the parading of high style clothing and accessories, all I can think about is why don't runway models smile?
Are they all uniformly tee'd off about something that we, the public are completely unaware of? Are they mad about having to wear outrageous clothing items that individually are worth more than my car? Perhaps it's because they haven't eaten in three years. It can't be that the job is too stressful. I mean these women get paid small fortunes to walk short distances in a climate controlled environment. What could they possibly have to be irritated about? Yet most of them present a face that ranges somewhere from slightly aloof to full throttle PMS.

After an exhausting five minutes of research with my friend Google, I found the answer. And it has nothing to do with what the models are thinking... or if they're thinking at all. According to highly educated scientists called runwaymodelologists, who've dedicated their lives to studying the habits and characteristics of this misunderstood species of homo-sapiens, models are TOLD not to smile. (A bit of trivia--Runwayus Modelis is the first human species to successfully walk upright in seven inch stilletos). Back in the stone age of modeling, when runways were made of dirt, the fashion bosses all agreed that if their models went strutting out onto the catwalks wearing toothpaste commercial grins, audience members would be too busy smiling back at them to notice the apparel that they were modeling. So smiling was officially denounced. Any model caught uttering the word "cheese" or exposing even one tooth would be suspended without pay and told to "wipe that smile off your face."

That really is the truth, even with all my expounding and exaggerations. Models aren't supposed to smile because smiling is considered a distraction from the true purpose of the fashion show....the clothing.

Ahh, now that we have that answer out of the way, we can get on to even bigger questions like why light bulbs are packaged in thin, flimsy, open ended cardboard, while solid, sturdy Fisher Price toys are entombed in layer upon layer of plastic, and tied into their boxes by more wires than are found in a Georgia Power substation.

But, that brings me to another question. If we're supposed to only be looking at their outfits, then why do models have to be gorgeous and skinny? Why can't any old gal be a runway model. Anyone with no teeth or who hasn't been to the dentist since the first Bush administration would be a perfect runway model because they probably don't smile a lot anyway.

At runway model tryouts, do the judges say, "alright, gorgeous, let me see that frown! Now scowl! How 'bout a glower! a sulk! a grimace...like when you have gas and are trying to keep it in." Work it, baby. Poke that bottom lip out! Wow, you look thoroughly pissed off. You're hired. When can you start?"

Johnny James Stop Using My Phone Number...It's Not Yours Anymore. That's What Happens When You Don't Pay the Bill.

Lately I've become an unwitting answering service for collections people looking for some guy named Johnny James. He once had my phone number and gave it to every lender who stupidly issued him credit, all 937 of them. They now harrass me and my husband in the evenings. The persistent ones try to wear me down asking over and over if I'm sure I don't know Johnny and where he is. They think he's my derelict brother who's hiding out in our kitchen cabinets. They think that if they interrogate me long enough I'm going to hand the phone over to Johnny who's been standing there the whole time sipping brandy out of a crystal snifter that he never paid for. Like I'm going to suddenly realize, "Oh, you mean THIS Johnny James. Yeah, he's right here. Hold on."I've started calling them back and asking if they've heard from him yet. "Hey, Sue from Bank of America, did you ever get ahold of Johnny because I have messages for him from Chase, Citibank, Washington Mutual (the high interest rate division), In the Hole Credit Card Company, Failure at Life Auto Loans, Blind Bob's Rent 2 Own Recliners, the Family Jewels Pawn Shop, Kidneys 4 Kash, and some guy named Louie Ballsmasher who wants da money he lent you.

If any of you good Laurens Countians know Johnny James, I'm sure he's a swell guy. But for goodness sake, don't co-sign on anything for him and tell him to stop using my phone number.

Bakugan...Saving the Universe One Toss at a Time

Last week, while doing pick-up at Northwest Laurens, my seven year old son Andrew shot out of his classroom like a lightning bolt to deliver my newest mission. "Mom, we have to go to WalMart right now and buy Bakugan balls!""Baku-what?" I asked as I checked my shopping list where I found cotton balls and tennis balls, but none of the mysterious Bakugan variety."Mom, we have to go now! All the other boys are playing with them and I'm the O--N--L--Y one in class who doesn't have any!"
"Poor, deprived child." I mourned. "I sure hope DFACS doesn't find out about this."
"Mom, we have to go NOW!"
There's no reasoning with a child who has Bakugan on the brain. So I did as I was told and drove straight to WalMart, directly to WalMart. I did not pass GO. I did not collect $200. As we dashed to the toy department, nearly running over the fabric department clerk, I took note of the expectant gleam in Andrew's eye...as if he were about to meet Bakugan in person, or warrior, or droid or whatever he is. Once we found the right aisle, which Andrew went straight to as if he were being directed by some Bakugan powered GPS, I learned all about Bakugan balls, the Bakugan game and how important it was that my son join the ranks of Bakugan players all over Laurens County. I dropped $20.00 on four chunks of plastic and some magnetic cards. Where's the "SUCKER" stamp for my forehead?

For you parents out there, who haven't heard of Bakugan (Lord, hep you) here's a little summary. Bakugan Battle Brawler balls are small magnetized plastic orbs (about the size of an extra large cherry, or a small plum or my husband's thumb). In the Bakugan battle game, players toss their balls onto magnetized cards which trigger the spring-loaded magnets in the balls to react and morph into action figures. Are you lost? yeah, I figured. This is probably one of those things you have to see for yourself. The player whose Bakugan battle figure (which used to be a ball) scores the highest, gets points. There is math involved. So I guess it can be deemed educational. It's kind of like playing a game of Sci-Fi marbles. Andrew won't explain all the rules so I wind up losing every time. After doing a good six minutes of research powered by Google and watching a 10 minute anime video, I became fluent in the language of Bakugan (which I will teach at West Laurens High School next year (just kidding!)

The Bakugan phenomenon began in Japan as an anime cartoon where everyday, ordinary kids learned that they had special powers to fight the evils of the universe in the form of magnetic game cards. Wild-haired, bug-eyed pre-teens with names like Runo, Marucho, Shun, Alice and Dan battle against other worldly bad guys. The whole concept is strangely similar to Power Rangers, Teen Titans, Ben 10, Star Wars and any other cartoon series where good fights evil with a gimmick.

Yes, your kids have to have them. So run to WalMart NOW. Nothing shows parental love like $5.00 plastic springloaded magnetic balls that will probably break between three and six days after purchase. One day, I'm going to invent something like Bakugan or Webkinz. It must be a great feeling to laugh all the way to the bank as naive parents are hurredly navigated by their obsessed kids in the throes of consumerism. Well, I'll leave that for another blog entry.

To learn more about saving the universe with Bakugan, visit http://www.bakugan.com/. To watch a full length episode, visit http://www.cartoonnetwork.com/.

Old Post: He Said She Said, VP Debate style

Disclaimer: The quotes, statistics and general content of this editorial cannot be counted on as true and shouldn’t be used as source material by any person attempting to impress others with his/her knowledge of politics.

It’s now 54 minutes into the verbal tennis match of disagreements between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden. So far the only things they’ve agreed on are their mutual respect for Israel and that both of their jokes about being the vice president bombed. Palin and Biden’s impeccable memories for recalling specific voting records, legislature and proposed program details are amazing. What’s even more mind boggling is that one’s recollections of the same events, records and programs are completely different from the other’s. Kind of like an old married couple….my parents, even. They’ve spent nearly an hour disagreeing about everything and not giving us, the American people, much hope that Washington will be “new and improved by January.”

Biden: “Obama sounded the alarm on the sub-prime lending crisis a full two years ago while standing on the steps of the Capital building with Barney Frank, drinking a Starbuck’s mocha latte with cream. McCain didn’t realize there was a problem with sub-prime mortgages until a few months ago when he was leaving the White House men’s room.”

Palin: “Gosh darn it, Joe, you gotta be careful with your facts. Barak was drinking a vanilla latte and John wasn’t leaving the men’s room. He was at the water fountain. But one thing the American people need to know is that John McCain is a maverick who supports families across America.

Biden: “A maverick? I’d say that when he voted 59 nine times to increase spending on the toenail clipper excise tax, he behaved more like a dissenter than a maverick. That’s a difference the American people need to be aware of”

Palin: “No, he was a dissenter when he voted 8 times against the skunk spray alternative fuel initiative. He’s been a maverick the rest of the time. It’s true. Look it up for yourself in the Senate Yearbooks where you’ll see McCain was voted “Class Maverick” and “Most Likely Not to Concede” 72 years in a row.”

Biden: “I have to take issue with that. It was Obama who voted 18 times against the skunk spray bill. McCain, in the end voted for the skunk spray bio fuels bill because it included an item promoting tax breaks for off shore manufacturers of pole vaulting equipment. And according to my records, McCain didn’t begin calling himself a maverick until the movie Top Gun was released in ’86.”

And so it goes. 90 minutes of bickering about nonessentials. This is going to be a loooooong 30 something days until the election. And can someone please tell Sarah to say NU-KLEE-UHR? She confidently rattled off the name of Iranian leader, Ahmadinejad numerous times without stumbling even once. But nuclear was too much for her. I’m now going to see what Brit Hume has to say about all this. For more trivial nonsense, keep reading my blog.

Designer Bandages Make Delightful Boo Boo's







Before I launch into today's cool and unique fashion must have, I've got to throw out a question that's been bugging me now for years. Who can explain what the difference is between a boo boo and an ouwie? (I don't even know if I spelled that right). Are they simply synonyms for something of the abrasion/contusion variety on the skin? "My older son, Andrew, calls them boo boos. Jack, my three year old, swears they're ouwies. Is there a discernable difference. Do ouwies bleed more, leak more puss? Are boo boo's scarier?

Whether you call them ouwies or boo boo's, if you have one, chances are you need a band-aid to stop the bleeding and hold the Neosporin. My kitchen cabinet currently stocks bandages of the Scooby doo, Sponge Bob and just plain Anglo-Saxon fair skin variety. Isn't there something better out there?Well, this morning, after severing a major artery with the can opener, I did a Google search and found a plethora of bandages for both the novelty lovers and fashionistas in your life. (Note to self: Finish scraping the dried blood off the computer mouse.)
At way-out Web sites like http://www.mcphee.com/, http://www.gotbeauty.com/, http://www.scivolutions.com/ and http://www.epartyunlimited.com/ you'll find bandages themed for pickles, pirates, breakfast lovers, cowboys, sushi, luscious lips even our lord and savior, Jesus Christ, who could've used a few bandaids himself there at the end.



So, next time you drop a hammer on your foot, slam your finger in the car door, drag a sharp paper edge across the tender part between your thumb and index finger, or peel that hang nail just a little too far, don't reach for a boring old skin colored band aid. Everyone knows it's not your real skin anyway. Make your ouwie, boo boo proud with a one of a kind adhesive like these. They won't take the pain away and will probably still hurt like the devil when you rip them off. But, hey, you might get a few compliments, maybe even a date with that hot guy who has the designer suede eye patch and Viking themed colostomy bag.