sure, why not
1. Industrious child: Nora was having “screen time” on Webkinz and I walked by the screen and did not recognize any of the stuffed-animal avatars. Then she told me that her friend had given her his username and password because “he’s not very good at the games” and he wanted Nora to make him some Kinzcash. So essentially Nora is gold farming. On Webkinz. I am trying to decide if I have the energy to forbid this. We have talked about why it was not a good idea for this kid to give out his password. Nora scornfully said that she would never give out HER password, and I thought Way to miss the point, baby! Perhaps there will be a further discussion at a later date. Modern parenting!
2. Not too terribly rhythmic child: A popular Nora pastime these days is to use the awesome Ucreate music machine* to make crazy beats, chopped and screwed and distorted all to hell, and then burn somewhere around ten thousand calories “dancing” to them. I think she is trying to approximate hip-hop or breakdancing that she may have seen on the television or at school, but to be honest she mostly looks like an epileptic iguana walking on hot coals. I enjoy it very much so I never openly laugh or do anything to lessen the frequency of her household funk dancing.
*This is lots of fun and would be a great gift for a musically-inclined child or an herbally-inclined adult, if you know what I mean and I think you do. (The company has not given me one or paid me to say that. You know I don’t play that way.)
3. Slightly terrifying child: On my way to my own bed I went to tuck Nora in, kiss her head, etc, and as she rolled over, completely asleep, she did a fist pump and made a “victorious grimace” face. Triumphant in her dreams.
DOMESTIC SHIT
We now have the world’s most expensive dishwasher. It was not cheap in the first place and then a plumber had to come and move pipes in order to get it installed. ALL HAIL SIR DISHWASHER, OUR LORD AND MASTER.
The plumber had an extremely, almost cartoonishly, Irish name. When we were discussing our lack of enthusiasm for our ugly-but-functional 1980s kitchen, he mentioned that he also does kitchen remodels, with his friend, who also had a name that would be perfectly at home woodburned into a faux-antique pub sign decorated with shamrocks. Should we end up hiring these guys in the future, I shall have to get some of that green-and-white soap for them to wash up with. Specially formulated to clean Irishmen!
We also went a bit nuts over Thanksgiving weekend and scored a deal on a new washer and dryer. A set had come with the house but they were old and small and kind of annoying. These are front loaders! And they play a little laundry song at the end of the cycle! It is like the song in my homemaker heart. Okay, I’m being facetious, but I have been harboring crazy SAHM fantasies, except not for the kid but for the HOUSE. I know, crazy. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over here caressing my appliances and licking the pages of decorating magazines.
Washer has one mysterious feature, however: a “tub clean” setting. I put detergent and water in there twice a week and swirl it around, is that really not enough? Then I Googled and saw that Tide sells something called “washing machine cleaner.” Really? Is this a necessary process or more marketing bullcrap?
FITTING THE CATEGORIES OF BOTH “DOMESTIC SHIT” AND “MARKETING BULLCRAP”
I am baffled by the Miller Lite “Vortex” bottle, since I see ads for it everywhere but have no idea what it actually does. Most ads are persuasive, and attempt to give you a reason why the thing is better than the other things. The Miller Lite ads basically say, “there’s this twisty bit on the bottleneck.” Does it allow you to get more watery beer-product in your mouth at one time? Does it aerate the beer and help release its piquant, provocative bouquet?
Google has revealed all: oh. It’s there “to create excitement.” In other words, for no reason at all. Yay. I’m so excited.
LOTS HERE TO DISAGREE WITH
1. This book about North Korea was fascinating, even if it occasionally made me grit my teeth with anger and attempt not to scream things like “fuck it, let’s bomb them back to the Stone Age (oh wait they’re already there).” Then I heard Barbara Demick on NPR and she was one of the worst talkers ever, but not all writers can talk so maybe slack should be cut. I had to laugh when the interviewer thanked her twice while wrapping up and each time she said “okay” or “sure” instead of “thank YOU” or “my pleasure.” That so sounds like something I would accidentally do. I am forever telling waiters “thanks, you too” when they tell me to enjoy my meal.
2. Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is one of the best franchises of the series, partly because it deals with actual wealth instead of losers on the brink of foreclosure, and partly because it is fascinating how every single thing out of Camille Grammer’s mouth is a lie or reprehensible or a reprehensible lie. I think the producers might hate her too, as they often let her talking-head segments go well past the point that they should have been edited, and the camera lingers while she makes stupid faces or laughs her awful simpering laugh.
3. R.E.M. has had way too long of a musical career, and much of their music is truly terrible. I can get into a college-radio nostalgia groove with albums like Murmur or even some stuff from Green, but I accidentally heard some more recent things on Pandora and damn, what a steaming load of nonsense. Conversely, Bauhaus is a band that sometimes does not get enough musical credit. It pains me a little when they are lumped in with “goth” bands since they are light years beyond some of that stuff. I mean, I liked to octopus my velvet-covered limbs around a dance floor to Sisters of Mercy with all my fellow erotic vultures, but even back then I knew that band was nothing more than a drum machine and a guy with a deep voice. Bauhaus though: that stuff still holds up.
—mimi smartypants apologizes for using “octopus” as a verb.