Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Got irony?

I don't even know what has happened.  Wtf is up with mustaches?  Like, what the fuck is up with mustaches?  Is this another ironic, hipster, "white" kid thing?   Am I not cool enough (doubt it) to "get" the mustache thing?    Everywhere I look there a gd fauxstache on something.  And you know the worst of it....THEY MAKE EVERYTHING LOOK SO CUTE!  I'm having some turmoil about this (obvi) because I'm drawn to the adorableness that is the mustache symbol, everywhere, but, I think it's stooopid.

I was at the Sanrio store, and I saw a Salutations Feline key cover with a mustache!!!!! I BOUGHT it.  It's so cute....look

Is it a throw back to the seventies, a retro move.  I can't walk into an Urban Outfitters without being assaulted by "mustachized" stuff.  I just don't get it.

This fad/trend has to be coming to an end if they have it AT POTTERY BARN, no?

Anyhow,  I'm simply curious.  Can anyone explain this to me?  The purpose?  The origin?  The end?

Thanks in advance!

Oh, and I'm keeping my hello kitty key cover :) 

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

On my honor, I will try...

So, "we've" decided to join yet another extra curricular activity.  I'm not opposed to such fun and frivolity, its just that I am as much part of these damn things as the girls are.  They're at the age that you can't just drop them off yet, and they can't drive themselves.  So, I sit through music class, I sit through ice skating lessons, I sit through swimming lessons, I sit through art class, I sit through (put whatever I've forgotten in here) and NOW, I sit through girl scouts.  I don't recall being in so many gd activities as a child.  It seemed simpler and more efficient.  I did the jazz/tap routine and some music and maybe a something else I'm forgetting.  I modeled as a kid and did some of that, and ironically enough, I was fat as a teen and didn't even think about doing a sport...ha ha ha, wait.  not that funny.    My parents both worked full time, so that might have had something to do with why I was in so few, maybe not.  Mom/Dad, if you're reading, I wasn't lacking in anything, it was the perfect amount of activities, and you guys did a great job!  Just look at me now?  Blogging and cursing.....its a beautiful thing :)

Bringing us to the issue at hand.

Girl Scouts.  Daisies, to be exact.  Now, my kids don't read my blog, and I hope yours don't either.  And, my friends will remain nameless, even though you girls know who you are :)

We (me) were apprehensive (didn't want to do it, at all) about joining GS.  They meet EVERY week in the middle of our nighttime routine and it was going to be a real hassle to get things sorted at home with the other two (husband and other child) before going to our WEEKLY meeting at the school.  I did it all for the cookie, c'mon, the cookie, c'mon

I was hesitant only because I  1. didn't want to have to do something else,    2. didn't want to continue spending money on activities and everything related to them,        3. we've got a tight ass night time routine that looks something like this....

and 4.most importantly, I don't like to tie up my evenings because I'd like to be able to attend any impromptu Tuesday happy hour invitations.  Hello?  Priorities.

Having said all of that, I bit the proverbial bullet and we totally joined.  ALL of my school mom friends joined and after the snicker about taking a flask to the meeting, I knew this group'd be a'ight. 

Bringing us back to the springboard for this blog post.  The Girl scout vest and the patches.

After purchasing all that IS Daisy, we were told to "just iron on these patches".   Easy right?  Totally, they're patches.  You iron them.  On.    I (of course) bitched about why these weren't already put on the vests since they have a very specific place on the vest.  No room for creative interpretation, so why not, offer us either the 1. the vest with stuff on it already, or 2. an upgrade option so that the patches (troop number, etc) can already be on the vest?    Remember this post? You are talking to.....this girl.

Since no one really bitched, I figured I was the only complainer/weirdo so I should take my vest home and my patches and I would "just iron on these patches".  Well, as you could probably imagine, those patches sat on my kitchen counter day in and day out. I kept saying, "I have a whole week.  A whoooole week to get these done".  Enough sarcastic foreshadowing for you?  Right, so cue in yesterday.   I met with some moms at the park and they told me how they just didn't have time to iron these things on (pfft. how could they not have time....a week was forever to "just iron these on") so they sent it to the dry cleaners and paid......TWENTY FOUR dollars to get them put on. Twenty. Four. Dollars.  I nearly passed out, and you know I'm all about paying for stuff like that.    So, I was in a tizzy.  A silly ass tizzy about the gd vest and the patches.  So, last night (night before the WEEKLY meeting), guess what?  I couldn't find the iron.  I didn't even know if I had an iron.  Why did I think I had an iron?  and for what pray tell would I have an iron?   I looked and looked and looked and looked and searched and nothing.  I could not find the iron.  I ran to CVS to buy an iron and spent $24.99 on an iron.  for the patches. I had surpassed my useless friends by $.99.  I left the store singing the words of the sage Limp Bizkit......

......Why did it take so long?
Why did I wait so long, huh
To figure it out? but I did it
And I'm the only one underneath the sun who didn't get it.....

I got home and my awesome husband had not only found our iron, but, had "just ironed on the patches".  Simple as that.  Ironed on the patches.  You're a good man, Charlie Brown.  I went back and returned the iron.  All of this is to illustrate that this just wouldn't have happened to our parents.  I don't know, they would've figured it out and not bitched as much or something.  Anyhow, it was a great eye opener to me, seriously.  What are we actually doing with our time?  Well, we'll leave that for a different post.

Next up.....how I was hoodwinked....errr...bamboozled...errrrr....nominated PTO vice president and I how I accepted.