Friday, February 20, 2009
made ya look! HA. and now for the rest of us...a little shameless promo here for the Swirlinator: she will have an essay in Skirt magazine coming up! very exciting!! buy it, read it, thank me after. you should accompany the essay with a viewing of the documentary about Henry Darger. it is an amazing story of his quiet and utterly remarkable life. there is little more i can say without ruining the whole thing, but just imagine..... (new topic) Now that our Winterfest celebration is over, the temps have plunged and the snow and wind are howling like a banshee. (what is a banshee by the way?) i do not want to go out for any reason. although in the spirit of getting along, i agreed to meet husband to go look at glasses for him. this is a traumatic moment for him, as he has never needed glasses till now. i say get over it. there are plenty more body parts just waiting for the warranty to run out, and the clock is ticking. trust me, i know. it looks like Maybe i have a reprieve...i may still have my part timeness in place next week too. good because i have too much to do to have to go to work also. i want some Dove dark chocolate solid easter eggs, a cup of ginger pear tea, a good book, a thick heavy quilt, diva (the one i imagine, not the one that jumps all over me when i'm trying to recreate a magazine ad for peacefulness.) (usually an ad for feminine hygeine products, flavored powdered coffee, or douche). and what about magazine and TV ads?? for a while, women were all doofy and constantly wearing pearls. i have never not ever seen a woman so ludicrously happy over making a stack o' flapjacks for the family, as the women in some of these ads. it was enough to make Mrs. Butterworth want to reach out and bitchslap that spatula-happy stepford wife. or as katie would say "i will slap the wrong right out of you, then proceed to slap the sense back in." (she never raised a hand). then, we were all career gals...but still very concerned about our scent and still wearing impossibly crippling spiky heeled shoes, and suits that were either Victoria Secret tight, or Charlie Chaplin loose. there was no place in the middle for someone not built like Barbie who didn't want to look like a man. a moderately feminine person, who cared about her looks, but was a wee bit cautious about flaunting what she did not have, or did not care to share with every other world traveler at any given moment. Then we trended into smart women who still looked good, but didn't make objectification their goal in life. they usually wore half-glasses, because their target market was aging too after all. and now, they chose their cosmetics, not to make their man fall at their feet writhing in lust, but they choose based on "science." you'll be as likely to see a white-coated professional hawking skin cream, as you will a successful looking, expensively dressed woman. and not a flapjack in sight. if children appear at all in the ad, the woman is looking at them in a sort of bemused way....like, who are these children? and they're blocking my camera angle. ad execs still are under the impression that we women haven't figured out that the person in the wrinkle commercial is 15 years old, and the poor bastard in the art dept has been up all night trying to put some age ON her...but just enough. and here's a huge secret...and i only tell you this so you can finally get off that Nordictrack and eat a piece of chocolate cake...the secret is that Everyone everyone has cellulite. true. the difference between my butt and Britney Spears? she has someone to airbrush those dimples off before we get a look on paper. so relax, y'all. it's all smoke and no mirrors. and no one i mean No One in hollywood has their own hair. how i got from flapjacks to weaves is anyone's guess, but i remembered what a banshee was, so it wasn't a total loss. go put a sweater on. L.
at 12:03 PM