For Whom the Bell Tolls

In the week since Whitney Houston's death, I've seen a lot of pearl-clutching over society's misplaced values. You know you've seen it too; you may even have been among those posting it on Facebook.  Many people have expressed the view that we shouldn't celebrate Whitney Houston's life or mourn her death because other, less well-known people have also recently died (and continue to do so every day--they are relentless!). These other people tend to have nobler jobs than Whitney, and they usually aren't addicts, which compounds the sense of injustice.

Rainy Sunday

Supper's in the Crock-Pot, cheesy shows are on TV, Mark and Charlotte are building with Legos*, and we're all in pajamas. Not too shabby.

*I know that Lego is an adjective, but I just can't. In my world, it's a noun.

The Evolution of Valentine's Day

In the last 24 hours, I have witnessed the three stages of Valentine's Day.  It was like being visited by Jacob Marley's ghost, only his chains were made of construction paper hearts (and he smelled kind of like Drakkar Noir).

Beauty and the Beast revisited

Beauty and the Beast is my favorite of the great animated movies Disney made in the '90s.  I first saw it at the dollar theater with my best friend and her mom (along with The Cutting Edge--if you were 16 in 1993, you know how awesome this was).  I love the gorgeous visuals (the ballroom scene!) and the over-the-top Broadway-style musical numbers.  Plus, Belle is a reader--she is clearly my homegirl.  So of course I was excited to see it on the big screen again, and in 3-D, no less.

Politics

I was kind of sad about Mitt Romney's inevitable march toward the Republican nomination: I felt I was being deprived of the kind of delightful shitshow that Republicans enjoyed during the fight for the Democratic nomination last go-round.  But wait!  Santorum won Iowa?  (Heh, Santorum.) Gingrich has a shot at South Carolina? Yes!  Get me some popcorn!  I'm sorry that Perry's gone; he provided so much entertainment: pouncing on his wife while wearing a black turtleneck, forgetting stuff, acting drunk, shooting a coyote while jogging...those were the days. The man made George W. look like an intellectual.  I need him in my life!  Oh well--at least his dropping out will likely prolong the inevitable.  I mean, we all know Romney's got this and will go on to have his plastic ass handed to him by Obama in November.

Cheeri-oh HELL, no!

All I wanted was some cereal for Lou and me: something semi-healthy, something sweet enough, but nothing you'd mistake for a bowl of milk-sodden candy. So I got Multigrain Cheerios. Innocent enough, right? Not when you look at the back of the box, which features two slender women, mid-stride and delighted-looking, bookending some insipid text about small things I can do to (all together now) manage my weight! Yay! First of all, are you kidding me with this? Get back to me when you've got something fresher than "drink more water" and "take the stairs," Multigrain Cheerios. Second of all, I'm trying not to plague my daughter with body image issues. I don't want her to think that weight management is the only reason to eat stuff like whole grains. Last of all, I take serious umbrage at their cheery-yet-creepy tag line, "More grains, less you!" That sounds like you get a free amputation with each box. Anyway, I like me. Less me is a bad thing, as far as I'm concerned. In short, screw you, Cheerios.

New Year's Day

So it's January 1; cue the reflection.