Sunday, July 15, 2012

You know you're an Arizonan in July if . . .

I live in Arizona which means that for the next three months, I will always win in the game of Who-Is-Having-the-Worst-Summer-Weather. Here are the ten reasons that illustrate why you should feel sorry for me.

 You know you're an Arizonan in July if . . .

1)      You’re not sure whether you’re having hot flashes or whether it’s just summer.

2)      A hundred degree forecast is a cold front.

3)      No matter what you set your washing machine’s temperature at, it comes out hot.

4)      Your car doubles as both a sauna and a sweat lodge.

5)      The butter tray becomes a butter puddle-holder unless it’s kept in fridge.

6)      You can’t actually fry an egg on the sidewalk, but you’ve tried.

7)      You can actually burn the bottom of your feet on the sidewalk.

8)      You have to blow dry your hair fast, or nature will do it for you.

9)      Hot chocolate loses all appeal (almost).

10)   Regular chocolate becomes hot chocolate within the time you buy it and the time you rip it open in your car.

(Funny how so many of my blogs end with chocolate. Okay, maybe not funny, just fitting . . . or not fitting if we're talking about my skinny jeans.)

Monday, July 09, 2012

More doll wrecks

Those of you who are faithful followers of this blog know that I have a thing for dolls. I was clearly doll-deprived as a child and have therefore made up for it by buying enough for three childhoods now.  Dolls sit around my house perched in cabinets and on my dresser (and according to one of my daughters watch us in a creepy manner).

The thing I love about dolls though is that they are like clean, obedient little children.  A beautiful doll embodies all the tender, precious things about motherhood.

With that in mind, you would think that people who are creating baby dolls would make tender, precious dolls--and usually they do.  If you look on ebay right now under "reborn dolls" you'll find hundreds of gorgeous, one of a kind dolls.  Here are a couple of good examples of reborn dolls.
Aren't they sweet? Don't you want to take them home? 
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

Unfortunately not all dolls or doll artists live up to these high standards. When I saw the next dolls listed, I didn't really get that  "warm" and "precious" vibe.  They seemed to be saying something altogether different. 
This doll is saying, "Get that @#$*& camera out of my face!" Either that, or he ate something that didn't agree with him.  Either way, this isn't a motherhood moment I'd want to pay money for.

The description for this doll said, "So lifelike!" Yeah, only if in real life your kids are ugly. If so, sorry, that hat isn't going to make junior's life any better.

This doll clearly just received terrible news. Did someone cancel Sesame Street?

The next doll says, well, your baby isn't all that bright. You don't need to set up that trust fund for Harvard quite yet.

And this is his future girlfriend.

You see this doll and wonder what has been put in his bottle, because he seems to suffering from a hangover.

This doll says start saving for that Harvard trust fund right away, because junior can already tell he's smarter than you. As soon as he's able to reach the keyboard he'll be sending out advertisements for parents more to his liking.  And by the way, you're out of Grey Poupon again.

And his sister doesn't think much of you either.

Okay, this next doll isn't a reborn doll. It's just a regular doll. I'm adding it because I think my daughter might be right about this one. He is watching you in a creepy manner.  (*shivers*)

If you want to see the links for my past doll wrecks blogs they're:

Sunday, July 01, 2012

The problem with public restrooms

I know what you’re thinking after reading that title. The sentence shouldn’t say, "problem", it should say "problems" because there are clearly many things wrong with public restrooms. At least that’s what you’re thinking if you’re a woman. If you’re a man, it may have never occurred to you that there are any issues at all—and that is the root of the problems with public restrooms. I'm not talking about dirt, empty toilet paper roll dispensers, and such. I'm talking about the fact that men clearly designed these places. And anyone who thinks urinals are an acceptable way to relieve oneself is not going to design a bathroom that women want to use.

Between a wedding and a family reunion, I’ve been traveling around a lot in the last two weeks, so this is an open letter of protest to whoever is building women’s restrooms.

Dir Sir,

1. Restrooms are not a place where men and women are equal. Due to that gift of nature that makes women want to rip off your head once a month, women need to use the restrooms more frequently than men. Build bigger bathrooms for women. Because having to wait in long lines makes us want to rip your head off even more.

2. Hand sensors at the sink are more trouble than they're worth. In theory sensors are a good idea. They would be a great idea if every restroom had them, but since some don’t, I find myself automatically holding my hands out underneath the faucet and waiting there like some desert traveler begging for water. And then I feel foolish when the person next to me walks up and flips the faucet handle on. A public restroom is not the place where I want to explain to strangers that I'm neither crazy nor incompetent when it comes to plumbing--I've just been conditioned, like one of Pavlov's famous pets, to stand there with my hands outstretched waiting for something to happen.

Also the faucet sensor is an especially annoying feature if you happen to knock your camera into the sink with your purse while you are wrestling paper towels out of a recalcitrant paper towel dispenser. This is not a time when you want the faucet to automatically turn on.

3. Automatic flush sensors at the toilet. This is a feature that men probably think women like. This is because men have never used these sorts of toilets in conjunction with the tissue paper toilet seat covers. Men, let me clue you into what happens when you use the two things together.

Step one: pull out the tissue paper cover from the wall receptacle.

Step two: tear out the middle so it will fit on the toilet.

Step three: carefully place the now ready tissue paper over the toilet seat to protect yourself from germs, grime, and the invisible toilet monsters that lurk in public restrooms.

Step four: start to do the necessary undressing.

Step five: watch as the toilet sensor decides the tissue paper constitutes something that needs to be flushed and whisks it and the water down the bowl.

Step six: repeat

        4. Hand sensors on the paper towel dispenser. Are you noticing a theme? You should. I frequently look like I'm practicing a jazz hands routine while I wave pointlessly at the paper towel dispenser. Either I am actually a vampire and have no body heat, or those sensors are temperamental things that hang onto their hoard of paper towels with Scrooge-like diligence.

Well, I'm back home now. Back to work and deadlines and my real life, but thankfully also back to my non-sensored bathroom.