Saturday, July 28, 2007

Udder bullshit

I'm the first to admit I have juvenile taste in movies.

After writing my guts out all day and most of the evening, the last thing I want to do is watch something that taxes my brain -- or my heart, for that matter.

I mean, I'm already aware of the evil people are capable of inflicting on each other. The non-fictional media do a great job of demonstrating that every day. Why would I choose to wallow in man's inhumanity to man in the world of make believe, as well?

Thanks anyway, but no.

On the rare occasions I sit down to watch something on TV or DVD, I prefer it to be as escapist as it gets. Which is why Rob and I tend to watch so many kids' movies.

I try telling myself I watch them in the name of "research," since I'm still toiling away on the never-ending story. But who am I kidding? I watch them because I LIKE THEM.

(There. I said it.)

So when Rob said we'd just received the movie "Barnyard" in the mail, I shrugged and agreed to watch it -- even though I vaguely remembered it receiving awful reviews.

"Ehhh, it's done by the same studio that did Jimmy Neutron," I thought. "How bad can it be?"

Very bad, as it turned out. Worse than bad.

It wasn't the cardboard characters or lame, predictable plot that got me (though it was painfully obvious poor ol' Daddy Cow was going to bite it Lion King-style within the first two minutes of the movie).

Truth is, I barely paid attention to those glaring flaws.

No. What had me choking with horror from almost the very first scene was the fact that the main character of the movie is a he-cow.

A HE-COW, people.

Not a bull. A cow. With udders. That just happened to be male.

Like so:

There's absolutely no logical reason for this creature to have udders. None of the other upright-walking animals had anything resembling sexual organs on their body. I'm mystified as to why the movie's decision-makers felt obligated to make the poor he-cow the exception.

Were they worried the audience wouldn't be able to identify the character as bovine without the telltale udders hanging out? Or is there a subversive pro-tranny message hidden in there somewhere?

Or is Hollywood REALLY that far removed from reality?

My money's on the latter.

Alien invasion

Throughout Milo's life, we've been careful to limit his exposure to television.

(Yes, I have been brainwashed by the studies that suggest too much TV scrambles the brains of children, leaving them twitching and drooling on the rec room floor, incapable of sustaining a thought for longer than 1.7 seconds. Rob thinks I'm overreacting, but hey -- look at what it did to ME.)

However, being the computer geeks we are, we never guessed that introducing Milo to YouTube might be a dangerous thing to do.

Silly us.

After watching just one clip from Sesame Street, he was hooked. Now, at least 50 times a day (and I'm lowballing here) he demands to watch, "Farm spaceship, Mommy! Farm spaceship!"

Even if I acquiesce one out of every ten times, that still means we're watching the same 4:20 (heh) long clip five times in a day, which equals 21 minutes 40 seconds -- and that's just a minute and a half shorter than a regular 1/2 hour children's program (minus commercials).

So much for protecting his tender developing mind...

Although to be honest, it's not so much his brain turning to mush that worries me. It's the fact that when the alien invasion finally happens, Milo's first instinct won't be to run for the hills like everyone else.

Instead, he's going to march right up to our tentacled future overlords with his arms outstretched, saying, "Yip yip yip yip uh huh uh huh uh huh..."

Friday, July 27, 2007

All cleansing no beer make Erin go crazy

So my 12-day cleanse is over and I SURVIVED!

And all I have to say right now is this: "BEEEER! Unnnnnngh."

(I'm on my second.)

It's times like this that I worry about how much I have in common with Homer Simpson...

Happy Friday night, all...

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Forget about mucoid plaques...

This atrocity is FAR stinkier... and scarier, too:

11-Year-Old Girl Wants to Be Like Jordan

Okay, so I don't know anything about "Jordan," other than the fact that she's a fake-boobed plastic bimbo. (Who knew they had them in Britain, too?)

But I do know this: if MY child ever expressed the desire to emulate such a stellar example of the WORST women have to offer society, I think I'd have to take her out to the back field and shoot her. Or at the very least, give her a partial lobotomy.

Kidding... but only sort of.

All right, enough with the lovey dovey stuff

It's time to talk crap again.

As part of this cleanse I'm doing, I've had to cut all yeast out of my diet. Last night, I began to wonder why. Why is yeast so bad? What has it ever done to be shunned and denigrated so?

I decided to go online and search for answers.

And then I got sidetracked and stumbled across this site.

(Warning: not for those who have weak stomachs or have recently eaten. Or who suffer from nightmares.)

YIKES. I thought MY cleanse was thorough. I never knew such... things could come out of the human body (without said human body being sliced open, that is).

It kind of makes me want to keep on doing this cleanse forever, to ensure I never have one of those monstrous "mucoid plaques" growing inside me.

... Though given all the trans-fatty foods I've eaten over the years (curse you, Pringles potato chips!) a mucoid plaque could be incubating inside me -- and you! -- RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE.

Cue the Twilight Zone theme...


In response to my Meg Fowler's challenge, here are things I love:

  • Milo's non-stop narrative, describing exactly what he's doing at any given moment of the day: "Milo running fast! Milo climbing! Milo read a book! Milo hitting Mummy!"

    (Okay, so I'm not so particularly fond of that last one.)

  • The miracle of being allowed to sleep to 7:30 a.m (It's happened about three times since Milo was born)

  • When writing, getting so into the world I'm creating that I actually forget myself and time ceases to have any meaning

  • Doing yoga and listening to birds celebrate the sun rising

  • Riding my bike to work

  • Sitting on a patio with a cold beer and good friends, watching the sun go down

  • Bras with straps that don't slide down my arms

  • Freshly washed bedsheets

  • Watching a really great sci-fi show with Rob, and actually being surprised by a plot twist (Happens all too rarely)

  • Grilled asparagus, sprinkled with lemon, salt and pepper

  • Walking in the woods -- in any weather, at any time of year -- and marveling at the countless shades of green

  • Going to the park across the street and having all the neighborhood kids shout, "Hi Milo!" on our arrival

  • Prawns and all things shrimpy. I KNOW they're horribly overfished and we're all going to die soon because the ocean is being scoured of its inhabitants, but god help me, I love the shrimp.

  • Random run-ins with friends I haven't seen forever -- and realizing that the passage of time hasn't weakened our friendship one bit

  • Books that make me laugh

  • Books that make me think about things in a new light

    And finally...

  • Pirates.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

What a load of crap

I'm currently doing my first herbal cleanse. (The Wild Rose one, for those who care about such things.)

Right before every breakfast and dinner, I squirt 30 drops of brown liquid into a glass and then use it to wash back six foul-smelling pills.

And then I wait...

... until my belly tells me it's time for the first of many, many trips to the bathroom that day.

Oh. So THAT'S why they call them cleanses. My insides have been scrubbed so bare, you could probably eat off them.

(All together now: ewwwww.)

I will say this: I've had more energy every day for the past 11 days than I've in months. Instead of fighting the urge to collapse each night at 8:00 p.m -- then feeling like I've just emerged from a four-year coma when the alarm goes off each morning -- I'm like the Energizer Bunny.

I spring out of bed at 5:00 each morning thinking, "Yeah! Yoga!" and have to force myself to go to bed at 10:30 or later, just because I know I'll be getting up in 6 1/2 short hours and sleeping is what a sane person would probably do in my situation.

(OK so 10:30 might not seem very late to those of you who don't have a two-year-old and don't get out of bed at 5:00 IN THE MORNING. But it is. Trust me.)

However... Part of me questions whether the increase in energy is worth the pain of going without wheat, sugar, and dairy. And who knew how much I loved yeast and all things fermented! Already I'm salivating over everything I'm planning to eat and drink on Friday when this 12-day cleanse is finally over.

Basically, all the things that made me so darned toxic in the first place.


Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Still alive, still kicking

Hi! Whatcha been doing for the past 16 months?

Really! You don't say?

Well, I won't bore you with the story of how I was sold into slavery for almost a year and a half and forced to perform unspeakable acts of horror. Yawn. How typical.

But I will say this: I'm back with a new name, a real name, and a new look. And I'm here to speak my piece.

(I've spent so many months writing in other people's voices, it's time I remembered what my own sounds like...)