Friday, July 30, 2010

Bras and Red Lipstick

When I was a tween, I had a very brief modeling career. Despite what many think, being 5’7” at 12 years old was not an asset in the children’s modeling industry. I was not very successful.


I was fully in my tween-hood: Too tall for kids, too young-looking for teens. I also had very large feet so often times they would have to create interesting ways for me to “model” shoes like carrying them while on the beach or slipping them on in photographs. If all else failed and shoes were absolutely essential, I crammed my feet into them. Smile through the pain.
I was sent to many “Go-Sees” by my agent which are exactly what they sound like: You go, they see you and they’ll call if they want you. Most of the time I would walk in and they would say “too tall” and I would leave.

But this one time, my height wasn’t going to affect my chances of getting the job because it was going to be an ad for LIPS! I thought, “I have pretty nice lips, I can do this!” The shot was going to be of a mouth, slightly smiling, and the ad was for a phone company.

My mom asked why they were using such young girls for the ad and the photographer replied: “We use young girls because they don’t have any lines and wrinkles around their mouths yet.”

Huh.

I didn’t get that gig, but looking back as an adult, it’s pretty disturbing. I remember them putting a ton of red lipstick on me and sticking a camera really close to my chin. They may have even mentioned the word “sexy”.

Another time, I was called to a bra shoot. I had a modest bosom back then and I was terrified. As I put on the sports/training bra in the changing room, I knew that this was soon-to-be one of the worst experiences of my life. I took a deep breath, stuck out my chest and pulled back the curtain, ready for perusal. But to my relief, another young girl had beaten me out there.

She was slightly taller than me, blonde and at least three years older. She had a full, round bosom and clearly this was a very proud moment for her. She no less than pranced around the studio with a smile plastered on her face. She could have done that lip ad if she weren’t so old. She laughed and jiggled and I looked down at my barely-theres in comparison; I was like Jan Brady coming out of that dressing room.

I felt like crying when they took the Polaroids and it wasn’t long after that I said "FT" to my modeling career. I just have to hope that there are no longer photos of me floating around out there: Almost crying, in my bra and my mouth covered in red lipstick.
I am sure there are photos like that, just not when I am 12.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Street Where I Live

The street that I live on is an interesting place. Driving on this road is an adventure in and of itself; sort of a cross between Mario Kart and Frogger.


This ½ mile is home to what I can only guess is a population of 5,000 people and nearly 30 apartment complexes – definitely not your suburban sprawl.

There are 35 driveways, poorly marked, and it seems to me that those who enter this street have no idea where they are going as they brake sporadically or travel at 10-16 mph, driving me insane.

I have prepared a map of my street (with a key) to illustrate a typical day.


1. Kamikaze squirrel crossing – drive with anticipation of smashing one of these greedy, ungrateful creatures.

2. Tweekers, from the tweeker apartments. They’re kind of twitchy.
3. “Massage parlor” – not sure WHY they need that red light in the entrance, but…
4. Creepy bridge, overgrown with foliage and I am pretty sure people are living down there. Also, someone spray painted “Watch Out for Ghostie” on the entrance to it so not going down there.
5. Possibly the worst positioned crosswalk on Earth. It’s right around a blind turn AND it is how schoolchildren get to and fro.
6. Russians in tracksuits doing what Russians in tracksuits do: Hanging out, smoking.
7. Moving truck parking spot. This apartment complex has high turnover.
8. The Party Apartments let out a steady stream of inappropriately-dressed chicks. I’m talkin’, 4” heels at 8 am. PS Your mascara is running.
9. Elks Lodge – I have seen limousines, rusty pickup trucks and everything in between pull out of here. Also a great source of traffic as it serves as the host to Election Voting, Toy Shows and Christmas kitsch sales.
10. UPS mailbox. People SLAM on the brakes when it finally comes into view over the bend in the road.
11. Another poorly-placed crosswalk. Seriously, I am surprised no one has been killed.

Welcome to my street! Want to come over for a visit?

P.S. Yes, I used Google Maps to draw this. You're welcome.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Craigs List Ad of the Day


I almost clicked "miscategorized" because I thought it should go in the "exotic encounters" section.
Hopefully the dog is smarter than its master...and more discriminating.
Should there be a law against pimping your dog out on Craig's List?
Definitely not a reputable breeder.
The world definitely needs more pit bull mixes!
Is this guy a friend of Michael Vick's?

That was a good warm up. Post your comments below!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Too Cute to Die

Have you ever seen one of these?


It’s a silky anteater and it lives in Central and South American rainforests. Kind of looks like it came from the Jim Henson Creature Shop, right?


Not surprisingly, I have an indescribable urge to pick it up. It looks like it wants to be picked up, right?

Look at it! Like a baby – arms extended upward, stretching up to your outreached hands…go on, you can pick it up!

WAIT! That stance is actually its defensive pose. Baffled? Me too. How can a defensive pose be effective when it is that cute?

I guess I don’t want to kill it, but I imagine a predator wouldn’t think twice about its dinner’s cuteness…It’s like he’s saying, “Don’t bite, scratch or maim me. I am too cute for violence!”

I guess silky anteaters just hope for the best because the adorably veiled threat of it slashing those tiny claws at me is in no way a deterrent.

So silky anteater, besides being a jaguar’s amuse-bouche, this last-ditch plea to live is not menacing or evasive and does not help you to blend in with your environment; it’s just mind-bogglingly cute. That’s why you’re my favorite animal.




Photo 1 Credit: I “borrowed” this photo from: http://www.ezzal.com/4004/blog/pictures/10-most-beautiful-creatures-ever.html but I don’t know where they go it.

Photo 2 Credit: http://imagecache6.allposters.com/LRG/21/2143/JDBCD00Z.jpg



 

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Toofbrush

I own an electric toothbrush:

a) yes
b) no
c) what's that?

If you selected a, turn it on and begin brushing your teeth. Then, go stare at the nearest digital clock.

If you selected b, you should go get one now.

If you selected c...this blog was named after you.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Tuna Melt

When your fiancé is really tired and weary and asks you very nicely to make him a tuna melt because he’s really tired and weary…


Don’t present him with this:






I just think it’s important that you learn from my mistakes.



Fiance: This is how much she cares.

Fiances Friend: WAY too much care in the center and not enough on the sides.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Spiders Have "Pros"

Why is this okay with me?


Yep, that tarantula is chillin’ on my hands…









But this is not?




Evil death-seeking spider chillin’ on my ceiling.






First, some background:

That tarantula was purchased by me as a gift for someone who really, really wanted a tarantula. (Yeah, I don’t get it either). Anyway, I wasn’t drinking so I don’t know exactly what inspired that photo-documented act of bravery above.

Things I know about that tarantula: Chilean rose, probably female, venomous but not deadly, probably won’t bite…unless you mess with her then she has every right to sink her shiny, toxin-filled fangs into you. Oh yea, she also can shake her bulbous abdomen and release crazy sharp hairs that will stick in your skin and cause inflammation. Great pet, huh?

Things I know about that super-scary spider on my ceiling: Not a whole lot, except it probably doesn’t build a web and I won’t be getting within ten feet of it (or however tall my ceiling is). Oh yeah, that reminds me, I should probably give my fiancé photo credit. Thanks, babe.

Since I can’t provide an answer to my quandary, I will do what I usually do in such cases.

Enter: Pro and Con List

Tarantula (Pros):

1. You were bred to be a pet so even though it is ignorant to anthropomorphize a spider, I’ve tricked myself into thinking you like, and therefore will not injure me. Also, I've explicity asked you not to.

2. You have a furry appearance and I like furry things because they're more often than not, soft and cuddly.

3. I was showing you off to a child and my instinct to look cool to a 6-year old somehow overpowered my suppressed fear that you would jump onto my face and drain all of the white stuff from my eyeballs.

4. You’re relatively slow moving, therefore easy to track.

Tarantula (Cons):

1. You’re big, really big…almost certainly too big. Why do we even have spiders this big?

2. You’re still a spider.

3. If I had to kill you, you would make a HUGE mess.

Ceiling Spider (Pros):

1. You have no pros. Actually, I should erase that “1” because I don’t even want you to believe you have any pro qualities.

Ceiling Spider (Cons):

1. You’re TOTALLY trespassing.

2. You aren’t very good at hanging onto the ceiling; one time your kinfolk fell off of it (and onto my bed) when fiancé came home and shut the door. Get some membranous pads, already!

3. You’re super-fast…and you take off unexpectedly...and then dart this way and that...

In writing down this list I realized that I HATE bugs/crawling things (and yes, I realize spiders are not technically bugs…so arachnids) that are UNPREDICTABLE. Included: Mosquito hawks, particularly ambitious bees, and really dumb moths around light fixtures.

I know what that tarantula is going to do, where it is headed and that it probably won’t bite me. You, ceiling spider, have not earned my trust. Your legs carry you faster than my eyes can track. And for that, you lose; nothing about you is “okay”.


Sunday, July 11, 2010

Squirrels are Totally Greedy...and Ungrateful.

I like squirrels, I do. I stop on trails to watch them chomp on acorns or walnuts. I put birdseed on the ground so they can eat freely without having to come up with creative and death-defying ways to get to the hanging birdfeeder. I risked Matt’s life once to stop on a dime, narrowly avoiding slaughtering a kamikaze squirrel with my car (Matt was faced backward at the time reaching for my purse). Um, thanks honey.

I’ve defended squirrels when people called them “tree rats”.

Me: "Actually, they are cleaner than your average sewer rat. They are gregarious and have complex communication...blah blah blah."

You: Bored.

But now, things have changed. Why? Because I've learned an upsetting truth about squirrels: They are hella greedy and ungrateful.

Example 1:

This squirrel was casually eating the birdseed on my balcony. Above him you will see a fuchsia plant, purchased two years ago at CVS Pharmacy.

I witnessed him stand up on hind legs, pluck a flower from the newly-blossomed plant, suck out the nectar and dispose of it. As he reached for another, I scared him away.


Dear squirrel, my plant is not your dessert.

Example 2:

You shouldn’t store birdseed in your house. It is not up to FDA standards as it is not made for human consumption and can contain pests such as pantry moths. We found that out the hard way.

In case you’re wondering if squirrels can chew through 1/8 inch of hard plastic….


...yes they can. And the kicker: there was fresh birdseed on the ground.
Greed may be a survival instinct, but this was just unnecessary. How many seeds can you hoard?

Yet, I am a squirrel codependent and so what do I do? Nothing. That's right, squirrel...you just relax.



Friday, July 9, 2010

Um, My Beans!

When I moved into a studio apartment, I knew I had to get another cat. Otherwise, I would come home and find my super-gregarious already-existing cat, Stud, hanging from a little kitty noose with a note saying, “Because you left me alone all day”.

Couldn’t let that happen.



Because I am very righteous when it comes to pet procurement, I went to the public animal shelter with my friend Jessica. I was very specific about my new cat’s qualifications: male, between 3-5 years old, brown tabby, short hair.


We scanned the cages and I wasn’t satisfied. Who would be? It’s really pathetic and depressing at the public animal shelter.


I was staunchly against kittens. I even said, “I am NOT getting a kitten.” My friend Jessica (who knows that what I say usually doesn’t mean anything) said, “Hey, let’s look in the kitten ward.” I paused. I thought “Didn’t I just tell her I am NOT getting a kitten?” Obviously I had to say it again...this time in all caps.


“If you are so against kittens, then why do you care?”


Challenge.


I stomped past her and pushed open that kitten ward door. Stench. Crying. Claws. Seriously, claws swiped my arm. I looked down and saw the most pathetic thing.


I peered down at a bedraggled feline and wondered what on earth made her feet look like baby Simba’s in The Lion King. Ah, polydactyl. Freak. Loved it!


Female, under 3 months old, black and white tiger, medium hair. Damn it. Too late though; I love freakish things so she was ess-o-ell, mine.


I tried adopting her but she wasn’t quite ready yet (quarantined because she may be infected with rabies or something). I had to come back Wednesday.


When the woman with the lost cat pulled up to the shelter early Wednesday morning, I knew I had to make an ally. It’s first-come, first-served and I wasn’t about to lose my newfound freak to anyone…even the elderly woman who showed up later claiming her daughter had found my freak too, and that she was very lonely and needed a cat.


Before you judge, let’s look at the facts:


1. She hadn’t even SEEN my freak, so her love could never match mine at that point in time.
2. I get it, she was old and alone. Fine, but then she should get an old and alone cat; that would be a good match.
3. Kittens are crazy! It’s like they are perpetually on meth and she didn’t look up to it. Honestly, she was a little slow-moving and pretty mellow.


So, when they asked who was there first, I looked to the lost-cat lady and it was done; she would vouch for me.


I got the cat and named her Beans. She has six toes on each foot and lives a very happy, active life with a young couple (me and my fiancé).

So cute: