Okay, so watching this last episode of RuPaul's Drag Race makes me mad. One of my favorite queens, Raja, is getting blasted by my least favorite, Shangela. Shangela's problem is that she has NO sense of humor, or understanding of what drag is about. She's complaining that Raja's Tyra impression wasn't good because she didn't change her body at all, but RuPaul had been talking to Carmen Carerra about her costume and reminded her that she'll be sitting behind a desk, so why pad that ass?
See, this show has ruined me. I suddenly care about how big of an idiot/b-stars some random drag queen is. And oh man do I care. Shangela should go home.
There I said it. And I can't take it back. I don't want to.
Raja forever! And Manila Luzon! I love you too! And Delta Work! All three of you!
Is it weird that I kind of wish I were a man so I could dress up in drag and be fabulous! Maybe I should just be fabulous. I'll be fabulous.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Kids Being Kids
So the other day I was at work, playing outside with the kids when I had the following conversation with a very smart little boy.
J: I gave the dinosaur some chocolate ice cream because he's a meat eater.
Me: So, chocolate ice cream is made out of meat?
J: Yep!
It's so funny because I remember when I used to think like that. Well, meat is brown, chocolate ice cream is brown, so that probably means that chocolate ice cream is made of meat. I think at one point I had an idea for some kind of ice cream cone made out of some kind of food and then fill it with mashed potatoes. It involved some kind of waffle maker, I remember that for sure.
Now I'm making myself hungry for mashed potatoes and meat loaf. OMG I remember. It was a very thin cut steak wrapped around mashed potatoes with like, peas or something in there for color. Mmmmmmmmm. Meat and potatoes.
J: I gave the dinosaur some chocolate ice cream because he's a meat eater.
Me: So, chocolate ice cream is made out of meat?
J: Yep!
It's so funny because I remember when I used to think like that. Well, meat is brown, chocolate ice cream is brown, so that probably means that chocolate ice cream is made of meat. I think at one point I had an idea for some kind of ice cream cone made out of some kind of food and then fill it with mashed potatoes. It involved some kind of waffle maker, I remember that for sure.
Now I'm making myself hungry for mashed potatoes and meat loaf. OMG I remember. It was a very thin cut steak wrapped around mashed potatoes with like, peas or something in there for color. Mmmmmmmmm. Meat and potatoes.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Random Emotions
So, I'm working for my mom from my NoManch home this morning, planning on heading up to her school to do some secretarial type work this afternoon. Copying papers for ISTEP prep and downtime stuff. The usual. My job for her this morning is to download all the pictures from her phone to the computer, and then upload them all to her newly-created (by me) Flickr account. I didn't see the laptop so I was going to head downstairs, but at the last minute I found it next to the chair and a half upstairs in the living room. This is a nice spot to sit and do some computer work. Plus it meant I didn't have to carry my toast, banana, and juice downstairs.
The drawback was that my dad was doing a conference-type call in the same room. He'd already asked me to stop the washing machine so there wouldn't be any noise. I knew that that meant I'd have to be near silent. I even tried to chew my sourdough toast as quietly as possible, which seemed difficult as it was particularly toasty toast. So I worked along, church mouse-like in my quietness when suddenly, it happened.
I sneezed.
I buried my mouth and nose in the crook of my elbow to muffle the sound as much as possible. I thought I did a pretty good job. I went on with my work. What seemed like a good while later, my dad turned to me and pantomimed what would have translated into "Don't cough! Don't make sounds!" and for some reason this really hurt my feelings.
I was like "What do you think I've been doing this whole time? Singing showtunes?" I understand that the nature of my dad's work can sometimes be very sensitive, but I've grown up with that. I know that there are sometimes things we talk about at home that don't go any further than the room we're in. I can tell when a conversation is meant to be kept confidential. It's not as though I am going to go out and tell all my friends about my dad's conference call. Well, at least not the content.
Anyway, afterwards I was all like crying and like, upset that he felt like he had to ask me to be quiet. I know! What the heck do you think I was doing? And he said that if he'd thought about it, he would have asked me to work in a different room. I totally get that, but I just thought that he would understand that I understand what conversations I should actively not pay attention to. It just felt like he was saying he didn't trust me all of a sudden.
Anyway, telling him how I felt at the time and typing this out have helped me get over it. Thank you for listening, internet.
The drawback was that my dad was doing a conference-type call in the same room. He'd already asked me to stop the washing machine so there wouldn't be any noise. I knew that that meant I'd have to be near silent. I even tried to chew my sourdough toast as quietly as possible, which seemed difficult as it was particularly toasty toast. So I worked along, church mouse-like in my quietness when suddenly, it happened.
I sneezed.
I buried my mouth and nose in the crook of my elbow to muffle the sound as much as possible. I thought I did a pretty good job. I went on with my work. What seemed like a good while later, my dad turned to me and pantomimed what would have translated into "Don't cough! Don't make sounds!" and for some reason this really hurt my feelings.
I was like "What do you think I've been doing this whole time? Singing showtunes?" I understand that the nature of my dad's work can sometimes be very sensitive, but I've grown up with that. I know that there are sometimes things we talk about at home that don't go any further than the room we're in. I can tell when a conversation is meant to be kept confidential. It's not as though I am going to go out and tell all my friends about my dad's conference call. Well, at least not the content.
Anyway, afterwards I was all like crying and like, upset that he felt like he had to ask me to be quiet. I know! What the heck do you think I was doing? And he said that if he'd thought about it, he would have asked me to work in a different room. I totally get that, but I just thought that he would understand that I understand what conversations I should actively not pay attention to. It just felt like he was saying he didn't trust me all of a sudden.
Anyway, telling him how I felt at the time and typing this out have helped me get over it. Thank you for listening, internet.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Beer Snob
I think of myself as being very cultured, hip individual. I like things that the cool kids like. I can do all sorts of cool oldey timey things like crochet and embroider. And I like nerdy things like Doctor Who and Harry Potter. I appreciate a good tattoo, and all sorts of music. My food adventurousness is even increasing as evidenced by my recent consumption of crab meat encrusted sea bass with asparagus and field greens. (It was delicious!)
But the one thing I can't bring myself to like is one of the staples of young persondom: beer.
I can be snobby about so many things like science fiction, chocolate, fragrances, shoes, historical accuracy of clothes during movies, jewelery. But I can't be snobby about beer. Because I don't like it. It kinda makes me sad that I can't be like, "Oh man! The IPA from Blah Blah Blah is so good! You should try it!"
I will now confess that one of the reasons I wish I liked beer is boys. I'm pretty much an awesome girl in terms of where my interests intersect with the interests of the kind of boys I like. I really enjoy watching/playing video games. I like nerdy boy movies. I even like attending sports games. One of the few things that boys traditionally like that I don't is beer.
It makes things more complicated in a liquor store. Since I'm also not too fond of most wines, I have to find something that I like to drink that I don't have to mix. I'm pretty terrible at mixing drinks. So I end up with a lot of like, Jack Daniel's Down Home Punch or like, Peach Lambic. Which, I guess technically counts as beer. It's a naturally fermented peach beer, and it's delicious.
Which means I do kind of like beer. I did have a pear cider last night, and that was very good. So maybe I'll be able to work my through the back door into beer snobbery. Here's to hoping!
But the one thing I can't bring myself to like is one of the staples of young persondom: beer.
I can be snobby about so many things like science fiction, chocolate, fragrances, shoes, historical accuracy of clothes during movies, jewelery. But I can't be snobby about beer. Because I don't like it. It kinda makes me sad that I can't be like, "Oh man! The IPA from Blah Blah Blah is so good! You should try it!"
I will now confess that one of the reasons I wish I liked beer is boys. I'm pretty much an awesome girl in terms of where my interests intersect with the interests of the kind of boys I like. I really enjoy watching/playing video games. I like nerdy boy movies. I even like attending sports games. One of the few things that boys traditionally like that I don't is beer.
It makes things more complicated in a liquor store. Since I'm also not too fond of most wines, I have to find something that I like to drink that I don't have to mix. I'm pretty terrible at mixing drinks. So I end up with a lot of like, Jack Daniel's Down Home Punch or like, Peach Lambic. Which, I guess technically counts as beer. It's a naturally fermented peach beer, and it's delicious.
Which means I do kind of like beer. I did have a pear cider last night, and that was very good. So maybe I'll be able to work my through the back door into beer snobbery. Here's to hoping!
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