Thursday, April 22, 2010

Taco Taco Bo Baco

Last night I was doing some Sweatin' to the Oldies (let's not get hung up on this) and one of the songs that they were dancing/sweating to was The Name Game. If you've never done Sweatin' to the Oldies, they basically just have a cheezy band cover a bunch of old songs while Richard Simmons and his crew dance about to them. They also make the songs drag on and on so they're about twice as long as the originals.

So they were singing The Name Game and once they were finished singing the original version, they started throwing in random names to make the song as long as humanly possible and maximize its sweating potential. They went through a few weird 80's names and then came to "Taco." At first I thought nothing of this. Then I had an uncontrollable craving for a taco. While exercising.

Bad move Sweatin' to the Oldies! No doubt they've led many hopeful weight losers astray with their nonchalant mention of tacos during their work outs. I can't believe Richard Simmons himself didn't catch this horrible blunder. But it was the 80's and maybe everyone's mind was more on Taco the artist and not taco the food.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Barbie Is not My Role Model

I would like to clear something up. Lots of people get all worked up about Barbie and her unrealistic appearance and superficial little careers and enormous boobs and so on. They say that she's a role model for girls and they're negatively affected by her unattainable figure and fancy career choices and that's why we're all fat and self conscious and insecure. I say no.

I spent countless hours of my childhood playing with Barbie and never once considered her a role model. She's a doll. Something I could dress up in ugly 80's dresses and give atrocious, non-reversable haircuts. Not something that gave me my self-worth or influenced my feelings about myself. I really didn't care if my Barbie was a flight attendant or doctor or garbage woman because seconds after I opened her, her "career" clothes were tossed into my ever growing mound of Barbie clothes and she was instantly as naked as the day she was born.

If anything, I projected my dreams onto my Barbies. Sometimes I'd make them singers. Sometimes I'd make them moms. Sometimes they'd be marrying Ken. And most of the time they were all three. I dressed them up the way I wanted in outfits that probably didn't match. I made them live out the little pretend life I chose for them.

It never once occurred to me that Barbie was skinny. Or that I should ever even look like that. Or that I should be a doctor because my Barbie was. She was just my doll that I could put lots of dresses on and make all pretty. That's what dolls are for. It's the people on TV and in movies that make me feel fat. Real actual living people. Not a doll.

I often wonder if the people who think Barbie is evil ever actually played with them as kids because they clearly have no understanding of the fun of Barbie. I suppose it's possible that they're just the Lisa Simpons of the world who, as 6-year-olds, sat around analyzing the affects their Barbies were having on them, finally deciding they were causing feelings of inadequacy before moving on to less offensive toys. This sounds like a depressing, boring childhood.

So everyone needs to just calm down. It's just a doll. Barbie was never such a destructive force until we made her one. Let's just let her be a toy instead of some big commentary on our society. There may be some young girls out there who have been adversely affected by their Barbie dolls, but if this is really happening, it seems to me that would only be pointing to a deeper issue. One that can't be fixed by something as simple as taking away a kid's dolls.

Ok, I will end my rant now. Let's just talk about how fun Barbies are. All my old ones are still in my mother's garage. I had a Little Mermaid one whose legs turned green after I took her in the bathtub with her fin on. It was worth it.

Then there was the one whose hair I cut so short (maybe by accident) that I started using her as a Ken doll instead. This sounds disturbing, but it's not. A little girl never ever has enough Ken dolls, so we do some crazy things out of desperation.

More recently, I've collected a few of the My Fair Lady Barbies. Scott bought me two of them a couple years ago for my birthday, shortly after we started dating. That might be when I knew I was going to marry him.

These are special to me because as a child I was obsessed with My Fair Lady and all I wanted was an Eliza doll. Apparently they were impossible to find in 1987, so I never got one. Now I have four. And it's heavenly.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Creepy Easter

Here are some things that creeped me out this Easter:

This hilarious picture from

And this lamb cake that was left on our free food counter at work:

It's been there for probably 4 hours so far today and nobody has touched it except for when I pulled it out to take a picture and ate one jelly bean. This, of course, is unheard of as most food on that counter is gone within an hour.

When did Easter get so creepy?