Georgia O'Keeffe the recently released film depicting the famous artist's marriage and now appearing on the Lifetime Channel is gripping with emotion. The film is just a small fraction into the harsh reality of O'Keeffe's world. Unfortunately, the film does not showcase many of O'Keeffe's friendships, instead it narrows in on O'Keeffe's bohemian marriage to the photographer, Alfred Stieglitz.
Personally I believe O'Keeffe's life was not wholly defined by her marriage to Stieglitz. I imagined the opening scene to be of O'Keeffe's friend, Anita Pollitzer being so moved by Georgia's charcoal drawings that she took them to Stieglitz's 291 gallery. Instead, the opening scene is of O'Keeffe's famous confrontation with Stieglitz at the 291 gallery, where she demands he take the work down. And Stieglitz replies, "You don't know what you've done in these pictures" and she responds, "Do you think I'm an idiot". Although O'Keeffe marriage to Stieglitz is quite important, there are many other relationships that had just as much an impact on O'Keeffe's work and success.
And even though the film depicted Stieglitz's unfaithfulness, it did not show some of the more controversial affairs, such as O'Keeffe's sister, Ida. The film definately showed O'Keeffe's escape and love of the West, but it did not fully depict O'Keeffe's own love affairs; maybe this is because they are too controversial, or there is still too much speculation over their accuracy. Or maybe, the filmmakers did not want to shed such a light on the most successful female artist in America. I think that if that is the case, then they truly missed the importance of O'Keeffe and her work. I believe that Georgia Totto O'Keeffe was a defining figure for the emergence of the 1920s as well as the New Woman. O'Keeffe became a role model for woman and her achievement has continued to give women hope for success. Stieglitz was O'Keeffe's husband, but he is better defined as her marketing director, which the film accurately portrayed. Stieglitz needed O'Keeffe, not as his wife, but as his poster woman for the new art culture in America.
And as the film also states, O'Keeffe was an honest woman who lived by her own set rules, which she clearly defined when she responded to what critics made of her work: "They make me seem like some strange unearthly sort of creature," she complained, "floating in the air-breathing in clouds for nourishment- when the truth is that I like beef steak- and I like it rare at that". O'Keeffe also did not like words: "Words and I- are not good friends at all except with some people," she said. "The painter using the word often seems like a child trying to walk. I think I'd rather let the painting work for itself then help it with the word".
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sign here "X" please
Last fall I remember being astounded to find out that cursive writing was no longer a part of my local elementary school's curriculum. I simply could not understand why cursive writing would be taken out of school, because to me it is not simply a means of writing. Cursive writing allows each and every one of us to develop our own style. A style that includes our personal signature- something that we use to separate ourselves as a form of identification. So to me it seemed illogical to take cursive writing out of the curriculum of our educational institutions.
Some of my friends and even members of the educational system told me to accept this change, because it was a sign of our times. They implored me to accept the new ways in which children were processing information such as, Text messaging, e-mail, and computers. I simply could not fathom this as an excuse to eliminate cursive writing from the educational process. My head was spinning, my argument to them was the question that popped into my head when I first heard this news, and that was: "If we don't teach our children how to write in cursive, how will they sign their name on important documents, such as, their Social Security card, car loans, bank loans, passport, and even their mortgages?" I was eager for an answer, because the responses I was getting was "They'll pick it up somewhere" or "That is the result of state mandated tests, they are taking up teachers' time so the kids have to pick it up on their own". And my thought was, "Really, really, we are going to leave this educational teaching to ...they will pick it up on their own!?! or blaming it on state tests!?!"
I was not only irritated by these thoughts, but appalled by the lack of understanding for what a loss this is for us as a society. How are we to compare with other nations, when we refuse to teach our children basic concepts? To me, cursive writing was a major part of my education, it was the big important step alongside multiplication tables prior to entering middle school. I mean when you look back at your childhood there are important stages and concepts one remembers learning: tying your shoes,someone reading you a story, how to read on your own, spelling your name, making your first friend, adding numbers, riding your bike without training wheels, calling someone on the phone. Cursive writing was among these, some students of course, dreaded the process, but others practiced until they reached their goals. And honestly, the same can be said for multiplication tables, some of us, hated every moment of the process, while others embraced the concept of numbers. My point is just because some of us despise learning something, does it make it not important to our well-being as a citizen?
Of course, not. Oftentimes the concepts that were harder for us to grasp are the ones we need most. Therefore, I think we should not just replace our well-established technology for new. Does this mean I think we should toss all new technology out, of course, not, but there needs to be a happy medium.
This point was raised in an article written by Associated Press Writer Tom Breen, entitled "Cursive writing may be fading skill, but so what?". In this article, Breen quotes Paula Sassi, a certified master graphologist, "People still have to write, even if it's just scribbling".
Another point, I would like to make is that texting is becoming its' own language. I personally have friends who are younger and grew up with owning a cellphone in their early teen years and I will admit, trying to decipher their encrypted words can be rather challenging. I also have many friends that are college professors and become very irritated when their students turn in essays in a text-language format. And I deeply understand this frustation because many of the words become intangible for instance, bak = back, but if one is reading this as it is written, one might first think this is a shorter version of bake or black. Another one that I have encountered is dis = this, but from slang definitions, this could appear to mean that one is avoiding another person, or disapproving of that person or thing. The other two that I truly just do not get are: bi = by and wit = with. I do not understand using bi in place of by because, it is not any shorter and bi by definition usually means two of something. Nor do I understand wit in place of with, when in writing, texting or emailing it would be just as easy to use w/, to show with. Now with that said, I am not against text-language, but I also admit, I am not totally text-language savvy.
In conclusion I think that we must realize that there need to be foundations, if we want to develop a society, where a majority are sufficiently skilled writers, then we need to teach them how to start with rough drafts and this includes taking notes by hand and transferring them into larger concepts through a word processor.
I originally wrote this piece back in 2009, since then a few more things have occurred to me regarding the need to teach cursive writing. When I first realized this wasn't being taught anymore, my first response was, but people need their own signature as way of identity. I still agree with this thought, I mean every time a new president is elected into office one of the first things we do is have a graphologist interpret what their signature says about them. I was recently told that cursive writing is not critical to one's education. I want to argue this point, it is critical, or we need to admit that by removing something from our education, something else will replace it. Ah! Ha! And just what is going to replace it...have you given much thought to biometric identification? Consider Frank Abagnale on steroids, don't remember who he is, have you seen Catch Me, If You Can?
And this leads me to pose the new things that have occurred to me since I wrote this back in 2009. The first thing that came across my mind when I wanted to argue with the person who told me cursive writing is no longer critical was ,but how are students meant to read and interpret documents? You see, my undergraduate work was in Liberal Studies, which meant I had three concentrations: English, History and Religion. So you can well imagine the types of "old" documents I came across in my studies. And yeah, sure they are often translated in a form of standard English that one can read, but then I am relying on the person(s) that translated those documents. And for me, if we just use the Bible as an example of how relying on someone's translation can lead us to interpreting things in one way is problematic. I chose the Bible because there have been so many translations made, making it clear that certain words simply do not translate from one language to another. It also shows that depending on who is commissioning the work/document to be translated can have it translated with certain meanings swayed to their direction of power. Another point to be made with translating is often words are removed or left out, which also changes the document. When I raised this point to a peer in my education studies, she realized that if her students can't write cursive they may not be able to read it; and therefore, would not be able to read The Declaration of Independence without it being translated. As a teacher, this seems easy enough to tackle, just get a translation of the document and proceed with your lesson. But, yet again, this raised an "ah! ha!" moment for me.
If students are not being taught cursive then are they able to read cursive writing? The answer, probably not. So to all of you teachers who are writing responses on your students' assignments , whether high school or college aged, did it ever occur to you why they may not understand you at all? This raises another point, what type of deprivation is this? Is this print deprivation or something else and how do we shrink the gap that has occurred with the growth of generations without this knowledge and are consumed by the technical age?
This brings me back to Frank Abagnale on steroids and the dawn of the age of biometric identification. Biometric identification will be the future signature of every individual, whether it is our fingerprint or scanning our eye (optimapping). I would like to see us revert back and teaching our children to write in cursive, but sadly I think that time has passed. For me, cursive writing teaches a person to slow down, to pay attention to detail, and to realize the beauty of all languages. Its' dying flame saddens me as it makes me aware that the children of today will not be able to read the letters and diaries of their grandparents, and quite possibly their parents, unless someone is able to translate for them. So yet another chapter closes and we say so long to the discoveries in the boxes in the attic.
As for me, I plan to continue to teach whoever is willing to learn the art of cursive writing, because as my high school journalism teacher, Ms. Bonner taught me, "the pen is mightier than the sword" -Edward Bulwer-Lytton from his play, Richelieu .
Some of my friends and even members of the educational system told me to accept this change, because it was a sign of our times. They implored me to accept the new ways in which children were processing information such as, Text messaging, e-mail, and computers. I simply could not fathom this as an excuse to eliminate cursive writing from the educational process. My head was spinning, my argument to them was the question that popped into my head when I first heard this news, and that was: "If we don't teach our children how to write in cursive, how will they sign their name on important documents, such as, their Social Security card, car loans, bank loans, passport, and even their mortgages?" I was eager for an answer, because the responses I was getting was "They'll pick it up somewhere" or "That is the result of state mandated tests, they are taking up teachers' time so the kids have to pick it up on their own". And my thought was, "Really, really, we are going to leave this educational teaching to ...they will pick it up on their own!?! or blaming it on state tests!?!"
I was not only irritated by these thoughts, but appalled by the lack of understanding for what a loss this is for us as a society. How are we to compare with other nations, when we refuse to teach our children basic concepts? To me, cursive writing was a major part of my education, it was the big important step alongside multiplication tables prior to entering middle school. I mean when you look back at your childhood there are important stages and concepts one remembers learning: tying your shoes,someone reading you a story, how to read on your own, spelling your name, making your first friend, adding numbers, riding your bike without training wheels, calling someone on the phone. Cursive writing was among these, some students of course, dreaded the process, but others practiced until they reached their goals. And honestly, the same can be said for multiplication tables, some of us, hated every moment of the process, while others embraced the concept of numbers. My point is just because some of us despise learning something, does it make it not important to our well-being as a citizen?
Of course, not. Oftentimes the concepts that were harder for us to grasp are the ones we need most. Therefore, I think we should not just replace our well-established technology for new. Does this mean I think we should toss all new technology out, of course, not, but there needs to be a happy medium.
This point was raised in an article written by Associated Press Writer Tom Breen, entitled "Cursive writing may be fading skill, but so what?". In this article, Breen quotes Paula Sassi, a certified master graphologist, "People still have to write, even if it's just scribbling".
Another point, I would like to make is that texting is becoming its' own language. I personally have friends who are younger and grew up with owning a cellphone in their early teen years and I will admit, trying to decipher their encrypted words can be rather challenging. I also have many friends that are college professors and become very irritated when their students turn in essays in a text-language format. And I deeply understand this frustation because many of the words become intangible for instance, bak = back, but if one is reading this as it is written, one might first think this is a shorter version of bake or black. Another one that I have encountered is dis = this, but from slang definitions, this could appear to mean that one is avoiding another person, or disapproving of that person or thing. The other two that I truly just do not get are: bi = by and wit = with. I do not understand using bi in place of by because, it is not any shorter and bi by definition usually means two of something. Nor do I understand wit in place of with, when in writing, texting or emailing it would be just as easy to use w/, to show with. Now with that said, I am not against text-language, but I also admit, I am not totally text-language savvy.
In conclusion I think that we must realize that there need to be foundations, if we want to develop a society, where a majority are sufficiently skilled writers, then we need to teach them how to start with rough drafts and this includes taking notes by hand and transferring them into larger concepts through a word processor.
I originally wrote this piece back in 2009, since then a few more things have occurred to me regarding the need to teach cursive writing. When I first realized this wasn't being taught anymore, my first response was, but people need their own signature as way of identity. I still agree with this thought, I mean every time a new president is elected into office one of the first things we do is have a graphologist interpret what their signature says about them. I was recently told that cursive writing is not critical to one's education. I want to argue this point, it is critical, or we need to admit that by removing something from our education, something else will replace it. Ah! Ha! And just what is going to replace it...have you given much thought to biometric identification? Consider Frank Abagnale on steroids, don't remember who he is, have you seen Catch Me, If You Can?
And this leads me to pose the new things that have occurred to me since I wrote this back in 2009. The first thing that came across my mind when I wanted to argue with the person who told me cursive writing is no longer critical was ,but how are students meant to read and interpret documents? You see, my undergraduate work was in Liberal Studies, which meant I had three concentrations: English, History and Religion. So you can well imagine the types of "old" documents I came across in my studies. And yeah, sure they are often translated in a form of standard English that one can read, but then I am relying on the person(s) that translated those documents. And for me, if we just use the Bible as an example of how relying on someone's translation can lead us to interpreting things in one way is problematic. I chose the Bible because there have been so many translations made, making it clear that certain words simply do not translate from one language to another. It also shows that depending on who is commissioning the work/document to be translated can have it translated with certain meanings swayed to their direction of power. Another point to be made with translating is often words are removed or left out, which also changes the document. When I raised this point to a peer in my education studies, she realized that if her students can't write cursive they may not be able to read it; and therefore, would not be able to read The Declaration of Independence without it being translated. As a teacher, this seems easy enough to tackle, just get a translation of the document and proceed with your lesson. But, yet again, this raised an "ah! ha!" moment for me.
If students are not being taught cursive then are they able to read cursive writing? The answer, probably not. So to all of you teachers who are writing responses on your students' assignments , whether high school or college aged, did it ever occur to you why they may not understand you at all? This raises another point, what type of deprivation is this? Is this print deprivation or something else and how do we shrink the gap that has occurred with the growth of generations without this knowledge and are consumed by the technical age?
This brings me back to Frank Abagnale on steroids and the dawn of the age of biometric identification. Biometric identification will be the future signature of every individual, whether it is our fingerprint or scanning our eye (optimapping). I would like to see us revert back and teaching our children to write in cursive, but sadly I think that time has passed. For me, cursive writing teaches a person to slow down, to pay attention to detail, and to realize the beauty of all languages. Its' dying flame saddens me as it makes me aware that the children of today will not be able to read the letters and diaries of their grandparents, and quite possibly their parents, unless someone is able to translate for them. So yet another chapter closes and we say so long to the discoveries in the boxes in the attic.
As for me, I plan to continue to teach whoever is willing to learn the art of cursive writing, because as my high school journalism teacher, Ms. Bonner taught me, "the pen is mightier than the sword" -Edward Bulwer-Lytton from his play, Richelieu .
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The Main Ingredient of a Grocery List:
So there we were, my aunt and me, drained from a day of heat and tired from cleaning several homes, and in need of some serious rejuvenation. My aunt and I had found ourselves in this predicament more than on one occasion, but it was rare for us to take a moment and treat ourselves. This day was different, it was the end of July and at the height of blackberry season. And we simply could not pass up the opportunity to stop by the elderly couple's home that we had discovered the year before. We were not sure if the elderly couple would still be working their blackberry farm, but indeed, they surely were and we were in need of blackberries.
Now stopping to pick blackberries may seem to some like more tireless work, but not at this farm. Stopping to get blackberries here, was a treat for my aunt and I, and the elderly couple always refused to let us pick our blackberries alone. They always came out and helped us pick several quarts and chatted with us. This day was no exception. The only difference on this day was that the elderly gentleman picked blackberries on the other end of farm, while his wife stayed with us. He must have known that she had something to share with us, and he knew how special it was for her to tell us alone. So we grabbed our quarts and she began chatting, and then she turned to us and said, "Well I have a joke to tell, (and then she turned to me) well honey, oh your ears are a little young for me to be telling this to, oh well, I am gonna tell it anyway".
And she begins, "Okay so there is this woman at the grocery store and she is grabbing her head, and then her ears, and then grabbing her breasts...and then she stops, and then she goes through all the motions again. And the clerk comes up to her and asks her, 'Excuse me, Ma'am, but are you okay?' And she replies, "Why yes, I am just trying to remember my grocery list, now lets see, I needed a head of lettuce (and she taps her head), two ears of corn (and she grabs her ears), two jugs of milk (and she grabs her breasts), and ....a bottle of F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C (and she takes her hand and glides it down to her vagina).
Well you can only imagine that my aunt and I just totally lose it, and we just crack up laughing. We had to control ourselves though, because we still had to pick our blackberries. However, we did laugh uncontrollably all the way home and have continued to laugh about this incident for years. It was truly a relief to a long, hot day of cleaning, and she and I will never forget that kind elderly woman sliding her hand down her crotch and saying, "...a bottle of F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C!"
Now stopping to pick blackberries may seem to some like more tireless work, but not at this farm. Stopping to get blackberries here, was a treat for my aunt and I, and the elderly couple always refused to let us pick our blackberries alone. They always came out and helped us pick several quarts and chatted with us. This day was no exception. The only difference on this day was that the elderly gentleman picked blackberries on the other end of farm, while his wife stayed with us. He must have known that she had something to share with us, and he knew how special it was for her to tell us alone. So we grabbed our quarts and she began chatting, and then she turned to us and said, "Well I have a joke to tell, (and then she turned to me) well honey, oh your ears are a little young for me to be telling this to, oh well, I am gonna tell it anyway".
And she begins, "Okay so there is this woman at the grocery store and she is grabbing her head, and then her ears, and then grabbing her breasts...and then she stops, and then she goes through all the motions again. And the clerk comes up to her and asks her, 'Excuse me, Ma'am, but are you okay?' And she replies, "Why yes, I am just trying to remember my grocery list, now lets see, I needed a head of lettuce (and she taps her head), two ears of corn (and she grabs her ears), two jugs of milk (and she grabs her breasts), and ....a bottle of F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C (and she takes her hand and glides it down to her vagina).
Well you can only imagine that my aunt and I just totally lose it, and we just crack up laughing. We had to control ourselves though, because we still had to pick our blackberries. However, we did laugh uncontrollably all the way home and have continued to laugh about this incident for years. It was truly a relief to a long, hot day of cleaning, and she and I will never forget that kind elderly woman sliding her hand down her crotch and saying, "...a bottle of F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C!"
Moooooove Over!
Now to those of you have already read my endearing story of the Psych O'Lists you will enjoy this follow-up!
Now normally I do not ride along with my husband as he heads to work, today was different. Today he needed a ride because he is changing out the pipes on his motorcycle. Little did we know what kind of treat our morning ride would entail.
Now my husband likes to drive down the canyon roads every chance he gets, not just for the thrills and terrifying sidebends and winds, but also because they do get you where you need to be much faster. So we headed up Drum Canyon, which connects the town we live in to the town my husband works in. As we started up the road, I enjoyed looking at the ground squirrels and the birds as I watched the workers in the field pick the current ripe crops. My husband and I were discussing the effects of the marine layer and how as one rides along Drum Canyon Road one feels the many variations in temperature due to this part of the micro-climates along California's Central Coast. When of course, what do we encounter a pack of Psych O'Lists practicing hard for their Tour d'Force. The problem with cyclists, is not their effort at exercising or their eagerness for living strong and training, but their unwillingness to share the road. For those of you back east, you are very familiar with this unwillingness to share...it is very common among the tourists that invade the beaches every summer. Very much like the tourists, cyclists who train in a group are unwilling to break into a single file or even a paired file to the side of the road. And like the locals we have met here, it makes you furious because they don't seem to understand your need to share the road and therefore it makes you want to hit them.
Now I do not support hitting them, nor do I encourage it, I think one should be patient and eventually, the cyclist(s) will let you pass. However, I do suggest to cyclists to take a pointer from the cow we encountered further down the canyon. Yup, you read correctly, we encountered Sheila the Cow. Now, Sheila was a sight, and no, I did not have my camera (and even if I did, stopping on a canyon road to take a photo is not a very bright idea). Sheila was the stereotypical redneck cow, chewing grass and staring at us, like everything was just hunky-dory. We slowed down just like we did for the cyclists, waiting for a moment to pass, and Sheila made it easy, even for a redneck cow. Sheila kept to her side of the road, she obviously knows the golden rule of sharing the road. We passed and were glad that Sheila did not decide to have a confrontation with our car. After we passed Sheila, I wondered how willing the cyclists would be to share the road with her? Meanwhile, my husband was more concerned with Sheila becoming so engrossed with her grass eating that she might stumble down the canyon and onto our car. I assured him that we would first encounter the red oak trees that would slow down Sheila's fall down the side of the canyon. Then, I said to him, that Sheila is smarter than the cyclists at least she understands the rules of sharing the road.
So if you are able and willing a Sideways adventure is just waiting for you on Dumb Canyon Road. (My husband renamed Drum Canyon Road during this morning's drive).
Now normally I do not ride along with my husband as he heads to work, today was different. Today he needed a ride because he is changing out the pipes on his motorcycle. Little did we know what kind of treat our morning ride would entail.
Now my husband likes to drive down the canyon roads every chance he gets, not just for the thrills and terrifying sidebends and winds, but also because they do get you where you need to be much faster. So we headed up Drum Canyon, which connects the town we live in to the town my husband works in. As we started up the road, I enjoyed looking at the ground squirrels and the birds as I watched the workers in the field pick the current ripe crops. My husband and I were discussing the effects of the marine layer and how as one rides along Drum Canyon Road one feels the many variations in temperature due to this part of the micro-climates along California's Central Coast. When of course, what do we encounter a pack of Psych O'Lists practicing hard for their Tour d'Force. The problem with cyclists, is not their effort at exercising or their eagerness for living strong and training, but their unwillingness to share the road. For those of you back east, you are very familiar with this unwillingness to share...it is very common among the tourists that invade the beaches every summer. Very much like the tourists, cyclists who train in a group are unwilling to break into a single file or even a paired file to the side of the road. And like the locals we have met here, it makes you furious because they don't seem to understand your need to share the road and therefore it makes you want to hit them.
Now I do not support hitting them, nor do I encourage it, I think one should be patient and eventually, the cyclist(s) will let you pass. However, I do suggest to cyclists to take a pointer from the cow we encountered further down the canyon. Yup, you read correctly, we encountered Sheila the Cow. Now, Sheila was a sight, and no, I did not have my camera (and even if I did, stopping on a canyon road to take a photo is not a very bright idea). Sheila was the stereotypical redneck cow, chewing grass and staring at us, like everything was just hunky-dory. We slowed down just like we did for the cyclists, waiting for a moment to pass, and Sheila made it easy, even for a redneck cow. Sheila kept to her side of the road, she obviously knows the golden rule of sharing the road. We passed and were glad that Sheila did not decide to have a confrontation with our car. After we passed Sheila, I wondered how willing the cyclists would be to share the road with her? Meanwhile, my husband was more concerned with Sheila becoming so engrossed with her grass eating that she might stumble down the canyon and onto our car. I assured him that we would first encounter the red oak trees that would slow down Sheila's fall down the side of the canyon. Then, I said to him, that Sheila is smarter than the cyclists at least she understands the rules of sharing the road.
So if you are able and willing a Sideways adventure is just waiting for you on Dumb Canyon Road. (My husband renamed Drum Canyon Road during this morning's drive).
Monday, September 14, 2009
Bells for Betty
"betty color for the hair down there": As a former member of the beauty industry, I was not surprised when this product appeared on the market. I mean it is really hard to be shocked in the industry once you have attended your first major hair show. The sights from one's first attendance to a hair show can be quite shocking, amazing and inspiring to say the very least. I will admit the first time my co-workers and I saw this product advertised we did think it was a joke. However, once I took a moment to investigate, I think Nancy Jarecki the creator of Betty made a brilliant discovery that equally stands on the same footing as the creator of SPANX.
If anyone is in need a great bachelorette party idea or favor than I highly recommend the newest addition to Betty malibu betty. It is the perfect twist for the bride in need of something blue! This new addition to betty also comes with dove, heart, and xo's stencils to style and dress up your betty. I also recommend that if you are giving this as a bridal shower gift or throwing a unique betty down under bachelorette party to pair it up with the t-shirts or boyshorts from BettyBeauty, Inc., that bare the quotes "My betty is ready" and "I'm a true blonde".
So thank you, Nancy Jarecki for coming up with the betty discovery while sitting in a salon in Rome. "Per sotto, per farli combaclare" = "For the hair down there...to make it match". What I love is that you have not only matched the coloring to natural hair colors, but also for the girls who like to live on the edge. Yes, that is right for those of you who are enamored with pink or are looking to get your freak on at Halloween there is Fun betty.
And if you are skeptical check out the site yourself. Here is one of the quotes that should have you ready to try this out for a little trick or treatin' this Halloween: "We Love this! Our betty's are so happy! We got so much candy! Our boyfriends were so happy. Thank you for helping my hair down there! P.S. It really did help me get candy..." (from betty customer quotes).
Thank you Nancy Jarecki for getting the little brown bags out of the salon! It may have even been the inspiration for the band Spiderbait's song "Black Betty"...."Heyyyy Black betty, bam buh lam, Oh Black betty, bam buh lam".
If anyone is in need a great bachelorette party idea or favor than I highly recommend the newest addition to Betty malibu betty. It is the perfect twist for the bride in need of something blue! This new addition to betty also comes with dove, heart, and xo's stencils to style and dress up your betty. I also recommend that if you are giving this as a bridal shower gift or throwing a unique betty down under bachelorette party to pair it up with the t-shirts or boyshorts from BettyBeauty, Inc., that bare the quotes "My betty is ready" and "I'm a true blonde".
So thank you, Nancy Jarecki for coming up with the betty discovery while sitting in a salon in Rome. "Per sotto, per farli combaclare" = "For the hair down there...to make it match". What I love is that you have not only matched the coloring to natural hair colors, but also for the girls who like to live on the edge. Yes, that is right for those of you who are enamored with pink or are looking to get your freak on at Halloween there is Fun betty.
And if you are skeptical check out the site yourself. Here is one of the quotes that should have you ready to try this out for a little trick or treatin' this Halloween: "We Love this! Our betty's are so happy! We got so much candy! Our boyfriends were so happy. Thank you for helping my hair down there! P.S. It really did help me get candy..." (from betty customer quotes).
Thank you Nancy Jarecki for getting the little brown bags out of the salon! It may have even been the inspiration for the band Spiderbait's song "Black Betty"...."Heyyyy Black betty, bam buh lam, Oh Black betty, bam buh lam".
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Cheiros pteros: There ain't no thing like a bat wing!
Okay so I must be seriously "bat shit" as in I am that crazy woman living in an apartment who has lost her shit. I would not say that I fall into the usual reference to this slang terminology, because unlike most woman given this term, I am not living in a ghetto so to speak or drinking milk from a bowl outside my door (like the girl in the movie PootieTang), but I am sharing my living space with my winged friends, Cheiros pteros also known as bats. So technically I am bat shit!
My husband and I like to jokingly refer to our new digs as the Bat Cave, like we are suddenly as cool as the superhero Batman, but one cannot be as cool as Batman, when one wakes up to find dead bats and bat wings lying on the balcony outside one's bedroom. So this morning when I was noticing that I can't enjoy the beautiful balcony because it is the resting place of my hand-winged friends I discovered something quite bizarre and unsettling. Dead baby bats and bat wings look like crispy fried chicken wings prior to adding the main ingredient buffalo sauce and hence, I decided to proclaim that "There ain't no thing like a bat wing!" (I know this is just a rewording of WingsToGo's slogan back east, but it makes waking up to that site in the morning much more bearable).
I must say that it is pretty fascinating sharing a space with my Cheiros Pteros friends. They make the strangest sounds all day, although they are said to be nocturnal. At night, they just become more lively and make little squeaking sounds like they are singing to us, but I think it must just be a mating call. Our hand-winged friends are of some help though, they do take care of other pesky creatures. So they aren't all that bad to live with...and as a True Blood fan it makes our anticipation for our favorite show ever week, more exciting!
My husband and I like to jokingly refer to our new digs as the Bat Cave, like we are suddenly as cool as the superhero Batman, but one cannot be as cool as Batman, when one wakes up to find dead bats and bat wings lying on the balcony outside one's bedroom. So this morning when I was noticing that I can't enjoy the beautiful balcony because it is the resting place of my hand-winged friends I discovered something quite bizarre and unsettling. Dead baby bats and bat wings look like crispy fried chicken wings prior to adding the main ingredient buffalo sauce and hence, I decided to proclaim that "There ain't no thing like a bat wing!" (I know this is just a rewording of WingsToGo's slogan back east, but it makes waking up to that site in the morning much more bearable).
I must say that it is pretty fascinating sharing a space with my Cheiros Pteros friends. They make the strangest sounds all day, although they are said to be nocturnal. At night, they just become more lively and make little squeaking sounds like they are singing to us, but I think it must just be a mating call. Our hand-winged friends are of some help though, they do take care of other pesky creatures. So they aren't all that bad to live with...and as a True Blood fan it makes our anticipation for our favorite show ever week, more exciting!
Friday, September 11, 2009
Oh! Captain My Captain
So there I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car viewing the whole escapade go down. It was nearly three years ago now, but the incident is one I will never forget and neither will those involved. I'm carefully watching as my husband manages to escort his sister's college friends into Wawa (a convenience store popular throughout DE/MD/PA that specializes in coffee, sandwiches and gasoline) so they can get some dinner because both of them are starving because they missed the dinner rehearsal spread, because their planes were late or traffic was screwy...who knows, not important to the story. The important part is they made it to the after party of the dinner rehearsal and we had consumed. Our choice of consumption: Captain Morgan and Coke. Mind you, I had never met these two fabulous girls, my sister in law's friends prior to that evening, but we had a common factor: our choice of drink. So now I can continue the Wawa showdown...
Jodie wants to order a sandwich, but refuses to use the touch screen, not because it is dirty and a million fingers have used it since it was installed, but because there is a human on the other side of the counter ready to make her sandwich. This human speaks English, can hear, and can easily start making the sandwich as Jodie delivers her order. The sad part, we as Americans are too conditioned to follow order and the Wawa associate insists that Jodie use the touch screen. My husband, Kyle, must intercede and assist because Jodie, and from my view, I can't recall if the associate finally just listened to Jodie and made her sandwich or if Kyle ended up placing Jodie's order for her via the touch screen. Regardless this was just the beginning...
While Jodie's touch screen dilemma is going down, the other college friend is managing to find her needs just fine. Kyle then, takes Jodie to the counter to pay for her items and so they can leave...when all of a sudden Jodie spots this man, and mind you this could only ever happen in southern Delaware. This man is standing in line wearing none other than a sea captain's jacket and matching hat, on a Friday night, well take that back, a Saturday morning (1 a.m)ish. So you can only imagine where this is headed...
Jodie under the consumption of Captain and Coke says to the gentlemen seriously wearing the "get-up" , "Hey, it's Captain Morgan, where's my captain in coke?", and before the gentlemen can answer or even respond to Jodie, she suddenly spots the most disgusting thing ever... and she says, "Ewwwwwwwwww, you have gum in your ear that's gross!"
Right about the same time, Jodie is being overwhelmed by the grossness of this man's ear visitor, I spot from my viewing pleasure, a police squad car pull up and two troopers walk into the doors of the Wawa. And I think to myself oblivious to what Jodie is saying, "Oh boy now it is really going to go down", because from my view it just looks like an overly friendly girl who has had a bit too much to drink.
Kyle also observing who entered the establisment, does his best to quickly get the girls to pay and gets them back to the car. And it is there where Kyle tells us, that the ear visitor that Jodie was so disgusted by was not gum at all, but the poor Sea Captain's hearing aid. So the next time your enjoying your Captain 'n Coke, be sure to remember this silly tale and watch out for those gentlemen in sea captain get ups and don't let your eyes deceive you!
(By the way thank you Jodie for letting me share your story on my blog)
Jodie wants to order a sandwich, but refuses to use the touch screen, not because it is dirty and a million fingers have used it since it was installed, but because there is a human on the other side of the counter ready to make her sandwich. This human speaks English, can hear, and can easily start making the sandwich as Jodie delivers her order. The sad part, we as Americans are too conditioned to follow order and the Wawa associate insists that Jodie use the touch screen. My husband, Kyle, must intercede and assist because Jodie, and from my view, I can't recall if the associate finally just listened to Jodie and made her sandwich or if Kyle ended up placing Jodie's order for her via the touch screen. Regardless this was just the beginning...
While Jodie's touch screen dilemma is going down, the other college friend is managing to find her needs just fine. Kyle then, takes Jodie to the counter to pay for her items and so they can leave...when all of a sudden Jodie spots this man, and mind you this could only ever happen in southern Delaware. This man is standing in line wearing none other than a sea captain's jacket and matching hat, on a Friday night, well take that back, a Saturday morning (1 a.m)ish. So you can only imagine where this is headed...
Jodie under the consumption of Captain and Coke says to the gentlemen seriously wearing the "get-up" , "Hey, it's Captain Morgan, where's my captain in coke?", and before the gentlemen can answer or even respond to Jodie, she suddenly spots the most disgusting thing ever... and she says, "Ewwwwwwwwww, you have gum in your ear that's gross!"
Right about the same time, Jodie is being overwhelmed by the grossness of this man's ear visitor, I spot from my viewing pleasure, a police squad car pull up and two troopers walk into the doors of the Wawa. And I think to myself oblivious to what Jodie is saying, "Oh boy now it is really going to go down", because from my view it just looks like an overly friendly girl who has had a bit too much to drink.
Kyle also observing who entered the establisment, does his best to quickly get the girls to pay and gets them back to the car. And it is there where Kyle tells us, that the ear visitor that Jodie was so disgusted by was not gum at all, but the poor Sea Captain's hearing aid. So the next time your enjoying your Captain 'n Coke, be sure to remember this silly tale and watch out for those gentlemen in sea captain get ups and don't let your eyes deceive you!
(By the way thank you Jodie for letting me share your story on my blog)
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Psych O'Lists
After recently moving to California's Central Coast, I discovered that it can be a bit tricky trying to take a Sunday morning drive with your husband without running into cyclists trying to train for their own tour d'force. I decided to drive on one of the many canyon roads and found myself wondering how crazy these people on bicycles must be. I coined them the "Psych O' Lists" because they have the desire to reach the adrenaline driven adventurous spirit that Jon Krakauer talks about in his book Into the Wild. If anyone else has driven down these roads or lives around the Central Coast they know what I am speaking of...those crazy cyclists who cycle down canyon roads in pursuit of "living strong" like Lance Armstrong amongst those conducting their own Sideways tours of the many local wineries. Their desire for adventure is among those who decide to climb the North Face, because choosing to drive down roads with the high percentage of intoxicated or semi-intoxicated drivers, let alone the sober drivers is simply insane. They are definitely living stronger than most of us who sit in the passenger seat of a car down a canyon road clutching the side as we glimpse down the 500 foot drop down the side of no return. I give these cyclists more than a nod, they are doing what most of us are afraid to do, but I still think it is a bit psychotic.
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