I forgot to buy a new razor today so after I got home from work Craig and I took a walk over to our local CVS pharmacy. On the way to the pharmacy we encountered a house that I think every neighborhood has. It's the house that has way too many lawn ornaments decorating it.
Because I live in the city, there really is no lawn to accessorize. It's really just a 5x5' plot of grass that has been chain-linked in. And the people who live there have planted every imaginable cheesy yard trinket -- the Holy Goalie is surrounded by various gnomes, holiday decorations, fake deer, plastic flamingoes, stone statues, bird baths, etc.
Yeah, it's really awful looking. And we walk past it every time we go to the pharmacy, and we always make fun of it.
Today the owner of the house was standing outside the chain link fence with a friend admiring his handiwork. I'm not kidding you -- they were discussing the finer points of decorating ones house. The friend complimented the house owner on his decorating restraint. He said his house had a lot more stuff, but the simple plot was really classy.
Coincidentally, that house is only half a block from the multi-lingual Beware of Dog house.
My friend Mena never went to her prom and she's really bitter about it. You can't talk about prom season in front of her because she immediately launches into her story and freaks out about people who got to attend their prom. Of course, Mena really does have reason to be bitter. She's got a really horrendous story.
When it was time for Mena to go pick out her dress, Mena mother offered to make a dress for her. And Mena, not being a suspicious person, accepted. She never really thought it was strange that her mother never measured her. Mena never even saw the dress in progress. Whenever she asked about it, her mother always said that she was working on it.
OK, so it's the day of the prom. Mena's boyfriend has his tux and has rented a limo. Her best friend has come over to do her hair and makeup. Mena's wearing the good underwear. Mena knocks on the door to her mother's craft room. Mena's dress is still in the cut apart form -- not a stitch made in the dress.
Apparently there was some, um, discussion. And crying. I can't imagine the horror. No wonder she's scarred for life.
I bought a new razor for myself over the weekend. Under normal circumstances this would not be a blog-worthy event. I mean, dude, it's a razor. However, I purchased a Schick Intuition razor -- you know, the one that has the shaving soap surrounding the razor?
It's the worst invention of the century so far.
It sounds like a good idea. It comes with shaving goop, so you don't need to buy an extra product and waste time in the shower with extra stuff. I'm all about that. But who is the smartass who thought of putting the razor just below the soap?
It's obviously a man and he hates women.
You have to push the razor into your skin really hard just so your skin comes in contact with the razor. There's no way to get a clean, close shave unless you push hard enough to bruise. And by then you're taking off a layer of perfectly good skin. And you know there's some guy back in the testing lab just laughing his ass off.
Seriously, save yourselves, girls. Just say no to the Intuition. I'm planning on sending my blood flecked razor back to Schick with a nice nastygram. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so freaky today -- the blood loss has gotten to me.
I feel so weird today.
I dumped my blogroll this morning, which was oddly liberating. Now I'm thinking about doing some other blog-related things. I'm also thinking of dumping some of the skins I made. I don't know, I just don't like them as much this week...plus some of them have problems.
I feel, I don't know, like I'm in flux or should be in flux. I'm just uncomfortable sitting here in my little cubicle office, knowing full well there are better things to be doing today.
I'm on the list over at Blogmoxie for a new design. I wish I could say that I was on the list of a new life, or at least a new job.
Today is just a whiny, jumpy day.
Hey, there's a new theme park in the works! Better get your tickets now, because they're going like hotcakes!
"Backed by Habitat for Humanity, a Christian charity, it aims to teach wealthy Americans how the world's poor really live." Right. Because corporate CEOs making obscene amounts of money are going to want to "imagine children sleeping in shacks infested with scorpions or snakes" and "walk right into a slum" so they can "see the kind of pitiful living conditions so many people in the world have." They don't care about their employees, let alone millions of faceless people who have nothing to do with them.
And you couldn't pay me enough to spend a day in that theme park. I spend a good portion of my time avoiding poverty like the plague. I'm aware that poverty exists and I do my charitable part for it. It doesn't mean that I have to spend the day touring a slum and learning to make bricks in order to really understand what being poor means.
More to the point, I and the CEOs of the world can't possibly learn what it means to be poor by looking at a slum. Unless you live the life for an extended period of time, you can't possibly understand.
To me this just smacks of people having money they don't know what to do with. Instead of spending the money on those in poverty, money is being spent so I can go to the theme park and point at the shanty homes like they're in a zoo. And then I can go back to my nice clean home with full refrigerator and forget all about it.
Yep, this is the dumbest idea I've heard today.
I can't get my thoughts together enough to do an entire entry yet, so here is what's randomly floating around my head this morning:
