November 13, 2005

twisted sisters, or what happens when kids are allowed to watch the love boat

when we were little, my sister and I used to take the fancy purple outfit off our donny osmond doll, and disrobe cher of her tiny bob mackie wanna-be dress, and place the two naked dolls in bed together in our barbie camper.

donny cher

November 7, 2005

pork chops and applesauce

peter brady

peter brady is 48 years old today.

ok, fine. technically, it’s christopher knight who is 48 years old today. peter brady is not a real person, but a pop culture icon.

finding out he’s nearly 50 years old though…that makes me feel old. but then I remember that I got carded buying wine on saturday, so nevermind.

October 17, 2005

ode to mom’s bag lunches

don’t you miss the days when your mom would make your lunch when you were a kid? I do. other kids always wanted to trade me for their icky lunch.

my mom always had the variety pack of lunch-sized bags of chips. sometimes I would take my potato chips out of the bag and put them between my peanut butter and my jelly. my sandwich was almost always on white bread, and I used to love how it would stick to the roof of my mouth, especially when I had deviled ham sandwiches. I loved that meat spread product. now it kinda reminds me of catfood, but back then, yum-frickin’-ee.

and (oh, god, I’m old enough to say this) in my day, we didn’t have those baby carrots, or the readymade bags of already cut carrots and celery. oh no. my mom had to peel and cut them herself. and we also didn’t have zip-lock bags. she had to wrap the longer side of the baggie around the outside of the contents to “fold” in the freshness.

I got those pudding snacks…the ones not in plastic, but in the short little cans that you peel the lid off of. they probably stopped making them after so many children slashed their tongues on the lids. if pudding snacks were not on the menu, then it was zingers or hostess cupcakes. sometimes I even got foodsticks, which no one remembers, but I lived for those things.

my drink of choise choice was those small bottles of orange, purple, or red punch. remember those? they were super sugary, and the edge of the bottle was so sharp, you had to use a straw most of the time. the straw also helped to avoid the colorful mustache.

as we all know, lunch bags were much cooler than lunch boxes, once you hit third or fourth grade, but my mom didn’t give me those regular brown bags. if the bag was brown, she decorated it. sometimes I got cool ones with prints on them. I seem to remember yellow ones with smiley faces on them, but I might be making that up.

yes, my mom’s school lunches were boss. (note to self: look into starting a business where a mom-for-hire comes to your house every morning, makes you a delicious bag lunch, and hands it to you as you leave for work.)

as much as I hate to end this flashback to my childhood on a sad note, one not-so-happy lunch-related incident cannot be overlooked. it occured while I was in kindergarten. I was walking down the aisle on the bus getting ready to start my day in mrs. freeman’s class, when I tripped and dropped my lunchbox (cinderella, I think). it spilled open and my thermos rolled out. when I picked it up to put it back, safely behind its metal arm that snapped shut (which apparently wasn’t so strong afterall), it sounded like my punch was full of chipped ice. unfortunately, it wasn’t ice…it was shattered glass…crushed into tiny pieces, like my childhood bliss.

October 4, 2005

les amis invisibles

if wallace & gromit were around when I was little, I think gromit would be my invisible friend.
but they weren’t around then, so my invisible friend was pinocchio.that poor little puppet made of pine. whenever I got into trouble (which was almost never, of course), I would blame pinocchio. my mom would say, “who left these toys out”? and I’d tell her, “pinocchio did!” and then I’d cross my eyes to look at my nose, making sure it wasn’t growing. also, I didn’t like just any pinocchio. it had to be disney’s version. I also preferred him in wood, not as a real boy (figure that one out, freud). when my mom took me to see the movie when I was just 2 years old, none of it scared me, not even monstro the whale. I loved it so much that I made her sit through it a second time. it was during the second screening that I pretended to grab pinoke out of the screen and plop him into the chair next to me, so he could always be with me forever and ever.

thirty years later, I finally got to meet my invisible friend, in the flesh…er in the plastic. in this picture, he’s all embarrassed because I just told him that the whole “lie and your nose grows” is a crock.

September 6, 2005

her neon lights will shine

onjoh, how I loved the movie xanadu when it came out. first, the roller skating…so cool. add olivia newton-john, and I was in 12-year old heaven. I wanted to be a muse. I had legwarmers (and who didn’t) and roller skates (which were orange), but I’ll bet no one else remembers the issue of family circle (or maybe woman’s day) that showed photos of all of olivia’s hairdos from the movie, and instructions for how to recreate them. my mom brought it home one day, and I tried as many of them as I could. this look was my personal favorite. those fabulous barrettes with the ribbons woven into them, softly sweeping my locks…too hot.

July 1, 2005

civic duty

Do you remember the Trix Rabbit political campaign? Kids could order buttons from the Trix box that said to vote whether or not the Rabbit should be allowed to indulge in Trix, the only thing the cute white hare ever wanted in life.

Being the sweet child that I was, I ordered this one, and wore it proudly.

As a young, impressionable child, I easily fell victim (read: sucker) to marketing ploys of large corporations.

(Dang, speaking of victim, did I set my TiVo to record Law & Order SVU? I was so busy putting iTunes onto my iPod this morning as I drank my Starbucks grande triple-shot extra hot no foam soy latte, that I think I forgot!)

Anyway, at least I grew out of that crazy phase and stopped falling for every gimmick out there.

June 30, 2005

family matters

A long, long time ago, I was this doll’s mommy. baby

Baby Alive was battery-powered, and came with a bottle, some powdered food, and a bib. I could mix up the food and feed her, as her lifelike mouth mimicked savoring my excellent recipes. Eventually the food traveled through her “digestive tract” to end up in her diaper. Then I got to change her. Oh, how I loved my sweet Baby Alive.

I still remember the jingle from the commercial:
“Baby Alive,
Soft and sweet.
She can drink,
She can eat.”
(Why do I remember this random crap?)

Then, one weekend while I was on an Indian Princess campout with my dad, tragedy struck my sweet plastic child. My little sister decided to play with my Baby Alive and being young and not yet mommy material, she didn’t know how to make the food. To this day, I can only guess what must have happened: she poured the unmixed powdered food into the baby’s piehole, and then fed her her bottle of water, clogging my poor Baby Alive’s system. When I came home, my mom informed my of my doll’s demise from an accidental cacka overdose.

The moral of this story is:
I need to get over it already.

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