Today I went to Target to get some mascara, because the new kind I just got is absolutely ridiculous, and I decided to go back to my old brand (Note to self, Stop being sucked in by TV advertising!)
While I was there, I saw many a mother and child combos, seeing as how school was out. I thought it was cute until I saw a little girl in a white sundress with curly blonde hair look up at her mother with adoring eyes and say:
"Mommy, I would really like it if you bought me some Starbucks today."
Seriously, she was maybe 5 or 6.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Guess where I just was?
It's official, I am one of those people who go to Wal-Greens way too late at night and try to find everything on my hopelessly, way-to-scattered, 'these are the things I forget to buy everywhere else' list.
My list tonight included, but was not limited to:
Volumizing mousse for my hair.
Brita Water filter pitchers.
Concealer.
Two cans of Ravioli.
Mascara.
Strawberry jam.
Bug Spray.
Well done, me!
The people at Wal-Greens tonight with me included but were not limited to:
The youngish, acne ridden, gel haired guy who was wandering around straightening shelves, and also who cheked me out at the end, all the while telling me very interesting details of hi life such as 'I worked 70 hours last week' 'I only work every other week' 'You look thrilled to be here' to name a few.
The three high schoolers who were sitting on their car in the parking lot drinking red bull and full throttle. No doubt high on their to do list for the night weer things like: get anxious, shake uncontrollably, laugh at friends while they shake uncontrollably, yell and scream, munchies, visit IHOP at 4:00 am, do stupid stuff that you think is cool, and oh yeah, go to school by 8:00.
Two people waiting on prescriptions both looking intolerably unhappy and impatient. Complaining about everything and talking WAY to loudly about what prescriptions they needed filled and why.
I'm going to bed.
My list tonight included, but was not limited to:
Volumizing mousse for my hair.
Brita Water filter pitchers.
Concealer.
Two cans of Ravioli.
Mascara.
Strawberry jam.
Bug Spray.
Well done, me!
The people at Wal-Greens tonight with me included but were not limited to:
The youngish, acne ridden, gel haired guy who was wandering around straightening shelves, and also who cheked me out at the end, all the while telling me very interesting details of hi life such as 'I worked 70 hours last week' 'I only work every other week' 'You look thrilled to be here' to name a few.
The three high schoolers who were sitting on their car in the parking lot drinking red bull and full throttle. No doubt high on their to do list for the night weer things like: get anxious, shake uncontrollably, laugh at friends while they shake uncontrollably, yell and scream, munchies, visit IHOP at 4:00 am, do stupid stuff that you think is cool, and oh yeah, go to school by 8:00.
Two people waiting on prescriptions both looking intolerably unhappy and impatient. Complaining about everything and talking WAY to loudly about what prescriptions they needed filled and why.
I'm going to bed.
Monday, May 21, 2007
No really,I'm fine right here in line.
Today I went to the post office, which is a place I hardly ever go. Really I go maybe three times a year, when I need to mail a letter. I used to not have to go at all because the Dr.'s office that I used to work for had an automated mail scale/postage system I could use. So I would mail all my stuff from work. Now, I have to go and weigh stuff, and get stamps, but one roll of stamps pretty much lasts the whole year. Anyway, I digress.
I went to day and I went when it was actually open, with mail clerks and everything. usually I sneak up there at night and use the little machine that weighs and shoots out the appropriate stamp. Today I was driving by and decided to drop in during regualr business hours. Not a great idea. There are evidentally lots of people who mail crap. Really. Did you know this? Because I sure didn't. I just assumed that people had my mailing habits because well, you know, I do things the best way, you know? :)
The line for the actual people clerks was huge, but had airconditioing. The line for the automated machine was small, but hot. I opted to do the machine, since I am more comfortable interacting with machines than humans sometimes. I got in line behind an Avon Lady. Yes, they really do exist! She was mailing five or six envelopes and two packages. I assume they were filled with Avon products. I'm not sure though. If so, she's got customers all over the USA, and that doesn't make much sense. She took forever. She didn't understand the machine. She kept hitting wrong button and she would look behind her at us in line and go 'Whoops! Made a little mistake!' and she'd start all over. People behind me abandoned ship well before she was done, but I hung in there. And I won out, getting to run my envelopes before the guy who I would've been behind got to the front of the other line. I put down my two little envelopes, paid the price with my credit card, and showed them in the slot. And I will add I got all mine weighed, stamped, and mailed before the Avon Lady got her stamps on her boxes.
I walked out feeling relieved, and a little bit triumphany because hey, I had just gotten my mailing accomplished and not yelled at the Avon Lady. I clenched my fist in victory, and realized I still had one of my printed out stamps.....In. My. Hand. which means it was not....On. The. Envelope. Whoops! Made a little mistake!
Half an hour later, I was done and outside, again.
Post Office=1 Emily=0.
I went to day and I went when it was actually open, with mail clerks and everything. usually I sneak up there at night and use the little machine that weighs and shoots out the appropriate stamp. Today I was driving by and decided to drop in during regualr business hours. Not a great idea. There are evidentally lots of people who mail crap. Really. Did you know this? Because I sure didn't. I just assumed that people had my mailing habits because well, you know, I do things the best way, you know? :)
The line for the actual people clerks was huge, but had airconditioing. The line for the automated machine was small, but hot. I opted to do the machine, since I am more comfortable interacting with machines than humans sometimes. I got in line behind an Avon Lady. Yes, they really do exist! She was mailing five or six envelopes and two packages. I assume they were filled with Avon products. I'm not sure though. If so, she's got customers all over the USA, and that doesn't make much sense. She took forever. She didn't understand the machine. She kept hitting wrong button and she would look behind her at us in line and go 'Whoops! Made a little mistake!' and she'd start all over. People behind me abandoned ship well before she was done, but I hung in there. And I won out, getting to run my envelopes before the guy who I would've been behind got to the front of the other line. I put down my two little envelopes, paid the price with my credit card, and showed them in the slot. And I will add I got all mine weighed, stamped, and mailed before the Avon Lady got her stamps on her boxes.
I walked out feeling relieved, and a little bit triumphany because hey, I had just gotten my mailing accomplished and not yelled at the Avon Lady. I clenched my fist in victory, and realized I still had one of my printed out stamps.....In. My. Hand. which means it was not....On. The. Envelope. Whoops! Made a little mistake!
Half an hour later, I was done and outside, again.
Post Office=1 Emily=0.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
For Becca:
It's Ollie, the new face of LOLcat builder! That's right, I've turned Ollie into a cat macro. Enjoy.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Spring Cleaning
Not my house, my computer. Trying to get rid of the programs I don't use, bookmarks I have long since stopped visiting, and games I had downloaded eons ago. It makes me feel good to only have five or six things on my desktop, and sapce all cleared out. My files are in an order that makes sense to me, I can find things quicker, I hope.
A clean computer? Makes my little OCD heart happy.
A clean computer? Makes my little OCD heart happy.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Congratulations, Snickers.....
Worst. Commercial. Ever.
If I had a youtube link or any link at all I would, but I can't find it anywhere, so allow me to paint the picture.
A new commercial for Snickers with Dark chocolate has come on you r TV screen. You see a mom, in a lawn chair on the sidelines of a sports event. She bites into a dark chocolate Snickers bar and says something like 'Oh, this Snickers with dark chocolate on the outside is fantastic!' Pan to a shot of her two teenage soccer-playing sons watching her ooh and ahhh over the candy bar.
These sons have had some prosthetics and soem amke-up on to make them look quite weird, a little abnormal if you will. Not anything outrageously weird, no extra arms, green skin, things that are are truly impossible, just some kids that have been made to be stereotypically 'ugly'.
One son says 'But mom, I thought you always told us that it's what's on the outside that matters?'
The mother says 'Nah, I was wrong'.
The two (non-model)kids look crestfallen and say 'awwwww.'
Really? Really Snickers? Did you actually pay some ad agency to make this add for you? Did you sit through the pitch and think this was okay? Really? Someone is pitching you the idea of an ad that revolves around some kids that you have 'uglied' up, and you're okay with this? Really, you wanna make fun of these two boys, who are granted fictional, but who probably represent a lot of high schoolers and middle schoolers out there, and youre going to reinforce the idea that people who dodn't look normal should be laughed at? Really? You allowed that to make it on air?
I can't adequately explain how angry and sad the commercial made me feel when I saw it. All I knew was the goal was to make the average American viewer laugh at people who probably don't need to be laughed at. Fictional or not.
Maybe I just hope that in this case life won't imitate art, and that this art doesn't acurately imitate life.
Worst. Commercial. Ever.
If I had a youtube link or any link at all I would, but I can't find it anywhere, so allow me to paint the picture.
A new commercial for Snickers with Dark chocolate has come on you r TV screen. You see a mom, in a lawn chair on the sidelines of a sports event. She bites into a dark chocolate Snickers bar and says something like 'Oh, this Snickers with dark chocolate on the outside is fantastic!' Pan to a shot of her two teenage soccer-playing sons watching her ooh and ahhh over the candy bar.
These sons have had some prosthetics and soem amke-up on to make them look quite weird, a little abnormal if you will. Not anything outrageously weird, no extra arms, green skin, things that are are truly impossible, just some kids that have been made to be stereotypically 'ugly'.
One son says 'But mom, I thought you always told us that it's what's on the outside that matters?'
The mother says 'Nah, I was wrong'.
The two (non-model)kids look crestfallen and say 'awwwww.'
Really? Really Snickers? Did you actually pay some ad agency to make this add for you? Did you sit through the pitch and think this was okay? Really? Someone is pitching you the idea of an ad that revolves around some kids that you have 'uglied' up, and you're okay with this? Really, you wanna make fun of these two boys, who are granted fictional, but who probably represent a lot of high schoolers and middle schoolers out there, and youre going to reinforce the idea that people who dodn't look normal should be laughed at? Really? You allowed that to make it on air?
I can't adequately explain how angry and sad the commercial made me feel when I saw it. All I knew was the goal was to make the average American viewer laugh at people who probably don't need to be laughed at. Fictional or not.
Maybe I just hope that in this case life won't imitate art, and that this art doesn't acurately imitate life.
Friday, May 11, 2007
I read the news today - oh boy
I usually turn on the TV and watch the first couple of minutes of the news at noon. Just to see if there's anything I need to know, you know, fires, shooting, imminent death down the street, the usual.
Today the big story was about the raid of twelve massage parlors (and four more run out of homes) that happened yesterday and Wednesday. Evidentally there was a whole lot more than just massaging going on in these places. Really not so much massaging as prostitution. But here's where the story got real sad.
Most of the girls that were working in these parlors were kidnapped from China, and brought her and forced to work in these places. Forced to become prostitutes. Sex Trafficing, right here in the good old, bible-belt, midwest.
The owners of the spas are going to jail, along with some of the women who were in charge of the girls at each spa. However, most of the other women who worked there are being treated as victims, not criminals. What happens to these girls now? Where do they go? Can they get back to China back to the homes they were taken from? Are they stuck here? My heart aches for wht they have been through, and what they might have to go through now that they have to figure out what's next.
I believe that we are truly an Isaiah 61 generation, proclaiming freedom, setting the captives free, and binding the broken hearts that are left over. I say it a lot, but it just seems to come up over and over. We are proclaiming that these acts are not okay. Not to us as human beings, and not to God. And there are people working all over to set the captives free. And in my own hometown, it's the police and the FBI who did it today. I hope that there are people ready to bind up the broken hearts of these girls. Not an easy task, to hel these women heal, I wouldn't even know where to start. But I know there are people that know exactly where to start, and where to go, and what to say, and I just hope they are there now.
Today the big story was about the raid of twelve massage parlors (and four more run out of homes) that happened yesterday and Wednesday. Evidentally there was a whole lot more than just massaging going on in these places. Really not so much massaging as prostitution. But here's where the story got real sad.
Most of the girls that were working in these parlors were kidnapped from China, and brought her and forced to work in these places. Forced to become prostitutes. Sex Trafficing, right here in the good old, bible-belt, midwest.
The owners of the spas are going to jail, along with some of the women who were in charge of the girls at each spa. However, most of the other women who worked there are being treated as victims, not criminals. What happens to these girls now? Where do they go? Can they get back to China back to the homes they were taken from? Are they stuck here? My heart aches for wht they have been through, and what they might have to go through now that they have to figure out what's next.
I believe that we are truly an Isaiah 61 generation, proclaiming freedom, setting the captives free, and binding the broken hearts that are left over. I say it a lot, but it just seems to come up over and over. We are proclaiming that these acts are not okay. Not to us as human beings, and not to God. And there are people working all over to set the captives free. And in my own hometown, it's the police and the FBI who did it today. I hope that there are people ready to bind up the broken hearts of these girls. Not an easy task, to hel these women heal, I wouldn't even know where to start. But I know there are people that know exactly where to start, and where to go, and what to say, and I just hope they are there now.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
It was like....
...I could feel my skin sucking in the fresh air when I stepped outside in a tank top today. Not my first tank top of the year, but I really think my skin was just thirsty for outside.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
You probably want to know where the name came from
A Portrait of the Reader with a Bowl of Cereal
Every morning I sit across from you
at the same small table,
the sun all over the breakfast things—
curve of a blue-and-white pitcher,
a dish of berries—
me in a sweatshirt or robe,
you invisible.
Most days, we are suspended
over a deep pool of silence.
I stare straight through you
or look out the window at the garden,
the powerful sky,
a cloud passing behind a tree.
There is no need to pass the toast,
the pot of jam,
or pour you a cup of tea,
and I can hide behind the paper,
rotate in its drum of calamitous news.
But some days I may notice
a little door swinging open
in the morning air,
and maybe the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour—
then I will lean forward,
elbows on the table,
with something to tell you,
and you will look up, as always,
your spoon dripping milk, ready to listen.
-Billy Collins (Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001-2003)
Every morning I sit across from you
at the same small table,
the sun all over the breakfast things—
curve of a blue-and-white pitcher,
a dish of berries—
me in a sweatshirt or robe,
you invisible.
Most days, we are suspended
over a deep pool of silence.
I stare straight through you
or look out the window at the garden,
the powerful sky,
a cloud passing behind a tree.
There is no need to pass the toast,
the pot of jam,
or pour you a cup of tea,
and I can hide behind the paper,
rotate in its drum of calamitous news.
But some days I may notice
a little door swinging open
in the morning air,
and maybe the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour—
then I will lean forward,
elbows on the table,
with something to tell you,
and you will look up, as always,
your spoon dripping milk, ready to listen.
-Billy Collins (Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001-2003)
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