Let’s associate!

Today’s word is: bacon

When we say Avenue Q on Sunday, I realized I’d heard one of the songs before: Schadenfreude.

I actually like the song quite a bit–nice and upbeat and extremely funny.

But later I started thinking about the song. And realized that although I enjoy the song, I don’t quite get schadenfreude as a concept. Yes, I know what the word means, and I understand the idea intellectually, but I don’t really feel the concept.

All those teen movies where horrible things happen to the characters for comedy? I cringe. Those YouTube videos of people falling down the stairs or off ladders taking a nasty tumble? I can’t watch them.

Anything along those lines horrifies me. I have to look away and feel almost ashamed at having seen someone’s suffering.

Let me make it clear, I’m not saying I’m a better person because of this. I’m most certainly not a saint, and I will admit to feeling a certain satisfaction when I hear something bad has happened to someone who was cruel to me in the past. But I don’t like to hear about anyone suffering a physical trauma, no matter what they’ve done. And I know entirely too well what it’s like to be laughed at, and it’s a feeling I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

I know there have to be other people who have the same reactions I do. But a whole lot more people seem to get it.

Maybe it’s the fact that (to the best of my knowledge) I don’t have any German heritage.

Blackberry or iPhone or Android or other?

Show your work.

Just got back from seeing Avenue Q.

It was good, although prude that I am, the puppet fornication made my blush.

This weeks game of word association was postponed due to my Veterans’ Day post. But I couldn’t let a week pass without a game, so here we are, better late than never.

Today’s word: Duck

Here’s your weekly does of word association.

Today’s word: five

It’s word association time!!!!!

Today’s word: carriage

I do not think it means what you think it means.

female big brust picture
I’m not sure how Steven Brust would feel about that.

james madison admitted states to union
All by himself?

I just realized that my web host is only saving the top twenty search terms. Why on earth would I want just the top twenty? The weird ones appear only once.

Everyone needs a little silliness in their lives.

When we got our Fiestaware dishes, I no longer have any need of our old dishes, which have been sitting waiting for me to do something with them.

They’re Mikasa and I’ve got plates, bowls, mugs etc, all in excellent condition.

If you know anyone in need of a set of dishes, send them my way.

Yes, I know I could probably sell them on e-bay, but I’d rather give them to someone who needs them.

Today’s word is:

toddler

Late and delicious breakfast, relaxed stroll, massage, and then a hot shower.

All Mondays should be like this. Hope yours is good, even if it’s not this fabulous.

Despite the assurances of the Disney Express man at the airport, I am not “dazzled” by our hotel.

However, I’m didn’t come to be dazzled, I came to relax and eat. And the salmon I had for dinner was fabulous. So there you go.

Let’s hope tomorrow’s meals are just as good–and that I can get a spa appointment…

Also? It’s surprisingly cool in Florida. Which is fine with me, since I hate the heat.

Also, either our hotel was built by midgets, or they were trying to do it on the cheap, because I can touch the ceilings without stretching.

Avery at Stereo Describes my Scenario recently went to see the film Good Hair, and as usual when the subject of hair comes up, it got me thinking.

For those of you who have not met me, I have very thick, very curly hair. I’ve always had people tell me they wish they had my hair, and although I’ve come to terms with it in recent years, I don’t think I’ll every say that I love my hair.

When I was a toddler I had straight blond hair. As I grew up, I got lots of bristle brushes, and whatever other utensils my mom would use for her hair. And whatever shampoo was on sale.

If you have curly hair, you can probably see where this is going: My hair was a mess.

All the time.

It’d tangle if you looked at it funny. It would never lie flat and neat, but would instead fly away and generally look like a mare’s nest.

Add to the mix the fact that I was a tomboy. Pull my hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way and keep the tangles to a minimum and I was good.

My mom, however, hated my hair, and in 7th grade she ordered me to get my hair cut off. And I do mean ordered. I walked up to the barber shop, put my name on the list, and when Larry asked what I needed, I burst into tears and said I had to get my hair cut off.

Larry told me to have a seat and he’d get back to me. Then he went off and called my Dad. “Your daughter is in here crying saying I have to cut her hair off.” That’s how things were, my Dad said. So I sat there and Larry waited until everyone else had left the store and then he cut my hair. Before he started, he pulled out a baggie and told me I could keep the hair if I wanted.

I did.

But a funny thing happened as he cut. The hair my mom had always treated as just a little bit wavy stared popping up curls all over the place when he cut it. He was shocked at how curly it was, and I remember him commenting that no wonder I had problems with it.

That should have been the end of things.

But it wasn’t.

No one ever told me you had to care for curly hair differently than straight hair.

Needless to say, things didn’t get much better.

In high school I ended up cutting my hair extremely short (hey, it was the late 80s. That was the thing to do anyway) and I discovered that if I used mousse I could reduce the volume a bit. Of course this left me with crunchy hair, but in my opinion, crunchy was far better than the alternative.

To be honest, I was in my 20s before I learned that you have to treat curly hair very differently from straight hair.

Once I truly started to understand this, my world changed completely. I suddenly had the ability to get my hair to behave the way I wanted–or at the very least keep from turning into a mass of knots when I wasn’t paying attention.

As I said, I still don’t love my hair, but I’ve come to terms with it. I spend a lot of money on expensive shampoos and conditioners and treatments and anti-frizz serums and creams and gels that moisturize my hair and help tame it. And half the time I still get giant hair. But I’ve also learned that the perfect length is where I can pull it back into a ponytail if it gets too bad.

All of this is to say I don’t quite get why hair is a racial issue. My hair has been a hassle most of my life. If I could have hair that was easy to take care of, why wouldn’t I want that? I never wanted straight hair because that’s what all the models and movie stars had. I just wanted straight hair so it wouldn’t hurt when I ran a brush through it. I’ve always figured that’s all anyone else would want as well.