Thursday, April 28, 2011

Much Distress




These are called "Skinny Boyfriend Jeans." I won't even tell you where I found the picture because it does not matter. These are turning up all over the place. Boyfriend Jeans my booty!! The only way that size 0-1 model is wearing her boyfriend's jeans is one of the following:

1. Her boyfriend is a skinny 12 year old. Which is only ok if the model is a skinny 12 year old as well.

2. She keeps her "boyfriend" locked up in a basement somewhere where she feeds him a diet of prunes and raisins stewed in Yerba Mate while forcing him to wear tiny pants so she can sandblast them juuuust right (while he's still in them)!

3. Trying to combine two hot sellers, marketers lost sight of the best part of wearing guys jeans. And that is the fact that you can do anything in them: bend over to tie your shoes, chase your kids, sit in a chair, breathe. None of which are possible in a low-rise skinny jean.

My first pair of boyfriend jeans came to me circa 1987. We were not dating, but he was a good friend. And a tangled mess of WWF moves between a dozen or so teenagers in his basement left me half a leg short of a pair on a cold, winter night.

I'll explain...It was a time when I was experimenting with the idea of a torn out knee in a pair of button fly, faded Guess jeans. Keep in mind that a few years prior I also wore the first pair of black leggings my Middle School had ever seen. I liked to think of myself, while not actually on the edge, close enough to spit over it after a glass of orange juice. And then at Rob's house on a Saturday night some All-Star Wrestling broke out. Someone grabbed the hole in my knee and the whole thing came right off from the knee down. Rob, being quite a gentleman for a 15 year old, gave me a pair he no longer wore to get me home. Told me to keep them, even.

I didn't even miss the ruined pair. These were well-worn, classic Levi's. Oh...the best pants I ever wore. I am sad right now missing those pants. Girls used to beg me to borrow them. Really. I wore them all through high school and college. I patched the rear, stitched a pocket back on, and could count my thigh freckles right through their thinness by the time I retired them. I'll try to find you all a picture. I'm sure there are several, as I wore them all the time. Hell, I could probably dig up the actual Levi's in my house somewhere. There's little chance I would ever have throw them away.

These days I have a pair of Joe's Jeans in the Ex-Lover cut. They went to all the trouble of breaking them in for me, just like Rob did. But it's not the same. Nothing could ever come close to an authentic, time- and boy-worn pair.

Monday, April 11, 2011

lightbulb moment

One day, I realized if I stopped taking good care of the games and toys around here and stopped expecting my kids to, then more of them would break or lose pieces. This exact thing I was fearing, suddenly brightened my day because it occurred to me that IF they were broken and incomplete I could throw them away without an argument.

And now I share it with you all. Use it well.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

English Teacher to the Stars

I may have found the job I'd like! But, like cuddling baby apes, I don't know if anyone is hiring. On the upside, it appears no one is doing it. And there is a real need for it. By all accounts I'm hitting on a real growth opportunity here.

Thinking of how to build a resume, I am going to come up with some brief, little lesson plans based on current songs. For example:

If the Far East Movement had handed me the lyrics to the song "Rocketeer" I would have handed them back all marked up with red pen. And then lectured them on the topic of cliche.

Don't get me wrong. I really like the song. And I sing along all happy up to the point where they say:

I'm like, oh,oh,oh,oh.

Hey, guys, a simile actually needs to make a comparison in order to make any sense at all. This one? It's like lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy. Good try for a first draft. But you have more to give than this. Rework and resubmit by Friday.



Tuesday, April 5, 2011

a matter of syntax

'Sup, B. o. B.! Thought I'd tell you how much I like your song, Magic. Especially the way I can just make a noise with my tongue sticking out and (as long as I am in tune) I sound just like you! You have some mad skillz there, B. o. B..

I like your song so much I am going to put it on my lawnmower mix. What is a lawnmower mix, you ask? Well, it is only my favorite mix on my iPod. It is the one I play when I mow the yard on my John Deere riding lawnmower. It is comprised of songs that I like to sing really loud. Also, they have to be fast because I speed like a demon, setting the knob-thingy on the Rabbit Setting. Even on the corners, baby. I'm mad like that.

Yes, my neighbors do smile along. They laugh and slow down to make the moment last. Which just demonstrates the power of your music. Especially since they can't even hear it.

Which makes me wonder if you or Pink or Barry Manilow had any inkling while writing your music that a doughy, short mama in the Midwest would be singing along at the top of her lungs, not caring if she gets a bug or a bit of grass in her mouth because your music is just so fun. Well, yes, Barry kind of counts on it. Good point. What? Totally! John Mayer too. That's funny. But he's not on my playlist.

In addition to the praise, I have two points I'd like to make:

1. With your odd acronym, it makes it difficult to follow conventional grammar rules when addressing you in writing. Do I leave the period and add a comma or exclamation? Leaving it off didn't seem right. Likewise at the end of a sentence. Please advise.

2. At my house, when I'm snapping at Moose, he doesn't seem as happy about it as you are when girls are snapping at you. Maybe I'm not doing it right. I'd welcome any advice.

Thanks, B. o. B., I appreciate your time.