Butt Floss for the Elitist

What in the hell is this?   I have questions. Please feel free to answer them.

• Do you wear it or put it on your wall? 
• Does that text wrap all the way around to your ass crack or is that a quote on the packaging?
  
• Is Quaker guy, John Greenleaf Whittier, rolling over in his grave? 
• Do you think he knew back in the 1890's that his poetry would some day be featured on someone's hoo ha?
  
• Who pays $13 for a white cotton thong?
  
• Why does it only come in size 0-4? Are larger women not allowed to wear Quaker poet butt floss?

Please help.

Or alternately, if you should decide you want to own this item - here is the link on Amazon.

What do my Child and Buffalo Bill have in Common?

It's a lazy Friday before a holiday weekend and I'm presently enjoying my couch.  I realized last weekend that this whole baby thing is moving much more quickly than I anticipated.  It's really quite unfair.  Basically I spent the first 16-20 weeks feeling sick.  Then I finally started to feel human again and all I wanted to do was go back to my life.  So I did and after a few weeks I started to realize that I have about 8 weeks of feeling human before I start to feel like the Goodyear blimp.  I think I'm in my 23rd week and I'm still pretty small.  Although I'm not lucky, so I suspect this reprieve is short lived.  So I resigned myself to the fact that I needed to get my ass in gear and actually plan for this poor baby girl/boy.

(btw - with all the modern technology available, they still couldn't really tell me for sure if this child is a boy or a girl.  The kid wouldn't give up the goods during the anatomy scan so while it looks "girl-ish" it could be a boy pulling a Silence of the Lambs Buffalo Bill kind of thing.  Fast forward to 3:00 if you're cinematically stunted.  And no, I'm not suggesting our child will be a transvestite with body piercings.  Did anyone else realize this chick is the one on ER now?  I digress...)

Well, I'm nothing if not a planner.  So I've started hitting up my friends at a frenetic pace. Anyone that has birthed a child in the last 2 years has gotten a phone call.  As a female we all talk about things that would probably horrify most men however pregnancy brings out a special brand of gross conversation.  For instance, my college roommate and I had an entire conversation about the merits of the hooter hider and something called Soothies which are apparently little silicon things you put on your nipples.  (In case you're wondering, I have decided we were significantly cooler when we used to get drunk in the shower before parties, stay out all night and then sleep all day.)  

Then a similar conversation with my old co-worker about breast pumps and under stroller baskets .  (Again....much cooler when we got drunk and went swimming half naked in a hotel pool.)

Last weekend and a few late nights this week produced a registry.  (PS - My wedding registry was about 1 million times more fun than this.  Selecting cookware is far cooler than organic onesies.) The resident expert, aka my mother, has decided that everything I've selected is far too expensive.  Apparently many people have experienced a similar phenomena.  

One of my co-workers tells me that his mother also came out of her time warp from the 70's to tell him that he and his wife were spending too much money and tried to sell them on the merits of an old umbrella stroller.  I sincerely believe my mother thinks I should be able to raise this child with an old playpen, a few onesies and a wooden spoon to beat them with when they get out of line.   She talks a good game but I see where this is going.  You see, it won't matter how much things cost when she's the one buying them for her grandchild.  I suspect this is only the start of a double standard that applies to grandparents the world over.

 

Today my big plan is to find a crib that will probably cost too much and visit a daycare that likely doesn't have space for our little Buffalo Bill... wish me luck.

My Husband, Connoisseur of all Things Supermarket

My husband moved to the US in early 2003 from Germany where, like most people his age, he was a student. At that point in all of our lives, funds were limited, which inevitably led to the search for “the deal” (I think we all remember Mug Night at Scooters in West Philly – Lord knows we wouldn’t have been drinking in that neighborhood if it weren’t for the 25 cent beers). So when we decided to live together there were some minor differences in lifestyle.

This was never so obvious as when we went to the supermarket. Let’s just say that when I shop I just throw things in the cart. I honestly look at the prices but they don’t register in my brain as good or bad, they just are. I make decisions about unnecessary items based on the price of the item. For instance, “Is $9 too much for Marcona Almonds?”. These questions might be easy to answer if I had any idea how much regular almonds actually cost...but I don’t. So my decision based on logic like this, "Well, I would spend that in two days on lattes and I would derive far more enjoyment from these almonds than those lattes, so no, it's not too much". I would be a miserable failure on The Price is Right.

My husband on the other hand is a much more responsible shopper. He actually knows how much things cost and notices when they’re on sale and buys them! I think this is really amazing. He comes back from the supermarket and says things like, “Hey I bought pork tenderloin because it was only such and such a pound”.

Like I said, amazing – right?

I attribute this knowledge of food prices to his infatuation with American grocery stores. When he first moved here he would become agitated if I went food shopping without him. I am convinced that for the first year we lived together he only came along to hang out in the cereal aisle. I also believe at one point in our relationship he may have loved American supermarkets more than he loved me. He was/is especially enamored by the Whole Foods. It is, without question, his Holy Grail of supermarkets.

Ode to the bulk grain aisle, the cheese department, Larry the bread guy, and of course, let’s not forget the chocolate. You think I’m kidding? Tonight my husband and I grew tired of our refrigerator having nothing more than 6 eggs, salad dressing and a few beers. We rolled our super fancy old lady cart over to the Whole Foods. I left him in the bulk aisle and told him that I would go do the rest of our shopping. I came back and he was still in the same place.

If there were an award for being the most methodical shopper, my husband would win. He bought 7 baggies of painstakingly measured stuff, it took 30 minutes and the entire purchase cost $3.59. Who knows what he plans to do with this, I try not to ask. One time he washed and spread 5 lbs of raw almonds around the house on little towels. Another night I found a bunch of nuts and grains soaking in water around the kitchen. I believe he plans to put these goodies in the oven. Whatever it is I’m sure it will pull us through a cold hard winter and feed our 300+ neighbors for just under $4. He’s just that kind of guy.

So if anyone out there lives near a Whole Foods and needs some food shopping done my husband “has cart, will travel”. Oh, and feel free to swing by for some $3.59 mystery oven goodness.

I hate AT&T with the burning passion of 1,000 Suns and the iPhone should burn in Hell

In 1999 I signed up for wireless service through AT&T Wireless. Pretty much immediately I hated them. The angry screaming blind homeless lady who plays the little flute thingy on 18th and Walnut has more refined people skills than these flaming assholes did. I hated AT&T with the burning passion of 1,000 suns. For those of you who don’t work in the land of telco, here’s a brief summary of my hysteria from 1999 through 2003.

The FCC delayed WLNP several times. Every time the mandate came due all the carriers cried and cried about how tragic and costly it would be and filed for extensions. So for two or three years there was a stay of execution. Sometime in 2001 I started telling their representatives that I was going to leave their god forsaken service and take my number with me. This obviously didn’t phase them, nor did they believe me, “I’m sorry, that’s just not possible.” In retrospect this is humorous because I was most certainly talking to a $10/hr employee. Having run a contact center I can tell you 2 things about that person with absolute certainty.

1. They don’t read FCC filings
2. They don’t give a shit if I leave

So the rantings of the crazy woman fell on deaf ears. The day always comes when we all have it stuck to us and that glorious day came for AT&T when the top 100 MSAs were forced to comply by the FCC. On a side note, there’s one other thing I can tell you about Telcos with absolute certainty – you don’t want to be the first customer to get anything new or do anything new. It won’t work - I promise. There are zero exceptions to this rule. So I sat back and watched all the carriers screw up people’s ports. Phone numbers went flying wildly into the black abyss of NPAC or some other telco backoffice. So I waited until the coast was clear and laughed like a lunatic as I ported out to T Mobile. As a parting gift, the bastards over at AT&T gave me a final F U when they billed me for a whole month when I only spent a few hours into the bill cycle on their network. I was really happy when someone was pissed enough to whack them with a class action law suit for exactly that. I signed up.

So to shorten an already long, and probably boring, bitch session I eventually ended up with Cingular. So we all know what happened there. So here I am full circle - back with AT&T Wireless. But it should be ok right? Cingular bought them, not the other way around.

Fast forward – November 2007. I win an iPhone and give it to my husband. We activate it and those bastards force me to re-up the contract. Then they remove the corporate discount on our account and force me to add a data plan. And when I called, GOOD LORD - you would have thought that it was 1999 again. I swear it was the same woman who laughed at me 8 years ago.

I honestly started out very calm and tried to be nice. That lasted about 30 seconds until this nitwit said she didn’t know anything about a contract renewal on an iPhone. For the love of god woman - more than a million have been sold in the last few months. You would think they would at least be able to answer basic questions. Not a chance. So they blamed this on Apple and transferred me to their tech support. This was going no where fast. Then Apple got all uppity and blamed AT&T.

As consumers you probably understand that there are two reasons wireless companies force you to renew your contract – they’ve either subsidized your phone from the manufacturer or they force you into it when you want a newer/better rate plan. This was neither of those circumstances but what I came to realize is that the retail phone is subsidized by Apple. They’re banking on the fact that you will activate the handset on AT&T’s network. And when you do, they mandate the data plan and then AT&T kicks back a percentage MRC or per phone cut to Apple. That my friends is why they try so gosh darn hard to prevent you from unlocking the phones. They want the kick back. So despite all their “We’re Apple, we’re crunchy, we’re a bunch of do-gooder happy people”, they are fundamentally just as evil as AT&T.

Ain’t nothing in life free. In fact it’s worth about $800. That’s the price difference between the locked and unlocked devices at the current exchange rate overseas. So my loss of choice is worth about $1 per day to Apple. So if you do the math on that and assume that Apple is getting at least that much back from AT&T, and there are at least 1M phones out there, that's like 400M annually just from that initial run of 1M phones (who knows how many were added during the holidays). So while that $1 day won't buy me a coffee (despite what Sally Struthers may suggest to the contrary - what kind of coffee is she drinking anyway?), it buys them a whole lotta coffee. Bastards.

Happy Holidays...I hope everyone gets a stinking iPhone under the tree.

My husband reminded me that he didn't understand half of this post because I did that thing where I talk in acronyms. I've updated the post with few links to helpful sites. And Vanessa, if you want, we can get on a bridge later on and talk about it.

eBay + Vintage Handbags = Crack-like Addiction

It's official, I have an eBay addiction. There's so much stuff out there that I can't help myself. I go out to eBay with the best of intentions. I have a specific thing I'm looking for and I search for it in earnest. The problem is that I often find things I didn't know I wanted. I have no idea how or why it happened but I somehow fell in love with pin-up girls, specifically Gil Elvgren. I thought it would be really cool to decorate our bedroom in 50's pin-up girls. I began searching and bidding on lithographs. I was repeatedly outbid so I ended up with a really cool coffee table book instead.

Then I had a great idea to complete my mother's silver pattern so she could serve 20 at Christmas. I was like a woman possessed. Everyday.... searching, digging, teaspoons, serving pieces. Then I started to find things I liked. I started bidding on silver for myself. This is totally unnecessary since I have silver from my wedding but mine isn't Art Deco so I felt it made complete sense. Who knew that was so competitive. I actually forced one of my co-workers to choose a happy hour locale with wifi so I could finish one of my auctions. I never did win anything for myself but I did manage to get everything but the soup spoons for my mom.

There have been a variety of things since then but my latest purchases have caused my husband to become concerned. I doubt its my mental health he's worried about, my guess is he's can't figure out where I'm going to put all the stuff. If you know me, you know I have an obsession with handbags. Old, new, weird, you name it, I'll buy it. Before you give me crap about how ridiculous this is I would like to point out that I actually carry these bags. It started when I randomly found two handbags listed together for $9. I bought them. I loved them. I started digging for more. Why didn't I think about this earlier? eBay is a perfect place to find vintage handbags. Silly me, I've been wasting time at antique markets and garage sales. This is instant gratification and far more rewarding because I get to beat those other bidders with my super human bidding skills.

I've won three in the last few days at ridiculously undervalued prices. May favorite is pictured at left. Walborg made some fantastic bags. I have a black beaded one I found a few years ago at an antique market. My husband calls it The Armadillo.

This is why I love eBay, lots of lazy people clearing out Grandma's stuff with no knowledge of how much they could actually get for these things. It's going to be Christmas in October. I realize I sound like a complete psychotic, but I'm being serious. I told my husband that when I die he can sell them all and take himself on vacation. That seemed to make him feel a little better about it.

I also found a lot of 24 wonderful vintage hankies. How can you not love those little embroidered squares. Aren't they required when you carry those really old bags? Hand rolled edges man...I couldn't stop myself.

Currently I'm watching three Corde bags from the 40's. I would be willing to bet that most people don't know (or care) what a Corde bag is, but let me tell you - they're worth fighting for!

On a side note, I'm loving my new blog photo. (One of my co-workers pointed out that the previous picture's reference to drowning cats wasn't pleasant - PEOPLE, IT'S ART!) It was time for a change anyway and since I have a thing for Gil Elvgren and fall/winter skeet shooting starts soon I thought this one was a good choice. We're kicking off this year by taking the old man to shoot sporting clays somewhere near Reading. And, in case you were wondering, I have the coolest shell bag - it's orange suede.

Hat Hunting

I think that I am now permanently crippled. Partly from my not at all sensible shoes and partly from the six hour witch hunt I was just on to find a hat. I'm sure most of you have heard me talk about the fact that my brother-in-law's wedding is coming up. Weddings there are much different than weddings here. I needed a hat. As best as I can figure, hat wearing went out of mainstream fashion in the US some time in the 60's. Clearly our friends over there haven't gotten the memo.

I find the cultural differences quite interesting. For instance, my in-laws find it amusing that my husband calls my parent's Mom & Dad. "Oh, that's so old fashioned" they say. However they're the ones getting dressed just to go outside to get the mail. Generally speaking it seems that this lack of formality has extended to all activity in US. Every day in the summer we roll out the door in shorts and t-shirts while the only place this "ensem" is acceptable over the pond is when one is going to the gym. I have to remind myself when visiting that it is decidedly not ok to show up at the breakfast table in my PJ pants and a tank top.

So I needed some serious shopping for this trip. Could I have recycled from my current wardrobe, sure but where's the fun in that? Plus, I needed a hat. I needed a dress for the hat (note: the fact that I bought the dress before the hat is irrelevant, so shush). I typically have two colors in my wardrobe, black and black. Black is not ok for church. Looking out at a sea of wedding goers over there is like looking at a giant Easter egg. If I look back at pictures of my wedding you can spot the Americans at 500 yards - a sea of black. Don't get me wrong, everyone looked absolutely chic and lovely, but our style is certainly not garden party, unless of course one is having a funeral in the garden in which case that would work out quite well. So I forced myself to look at the dresses that I would normally speed right past. I saw this dress as a happy compromise, it's secretly a black dress that's not black.

One June Cleaver, garden party looking dress purchased...check!

I spent one evening surfing the Internet looking for hats. Who knew that these things were special order? So now I'm screwed. I have to find a hat off the rack. They might as well have told me I need a burka because they're probably about as common as hats in this country. I nearly killed myself walking around Philly looking. I even went into Sophie Curson which is old biddie heaven. I didn't find a hat, but I did end up in Leehee Fai and found an awesome dress for the evening. I'm in love with this dress. It's sort of like wearing a cross between your PJs and a giant parachute. I did cave and buy it in black, but seriously we can't be colorful all the time. My husband says that a tuxedo is black intentionally so that the woman is the focus of attention. I say black is minimizing, who wants to look back and see pictures of ones self looking like a giant grape or some sort of big white sausage?

One fabulously comfortable evening gown purchased.....check!

This morning my mother and I got up bright and early to go shopping. We mapped out all of the possible locations that might be hiding church hats. The adventure began at 10AM. We drove out the main line and hit every ladies boutique between Wayne and Bala Cynwyd. Nada. Finally hit Saks around 1PM. Nuttin. Lord and Taylor, used their ladies room but that's about it. (btw, the L&T out on City Line smells like an armpit, don't go there) Drove to King of Prussia, did the department store thing. Finally, I put all good sense aside and went into Needless Mark-up. There, in all it's glory, was an honest to God hat department. I can only theorize that hats are like engagement rings. There must be a rule somewhere that a hat should be one month of your salary. That's the only POSSIBLE reason that something so small and useless could cost as much as it did. The only somewhat redeeming part was that the stupid thing was made in the good old USA. At least I'm not supporting 3rd world child labor. The funniest line from the whole Nieman's experience....the saleswoman says to me "..and it comes in one of our beautiful hat boxes." Seriously, you can't make this stuff up, those words came out of her mouth.

So here it is. My lovely hat. Of course, I got it in black.....check!

Picture credits: www.bananarepublic.com, www.pollisays.com, www.ericjavits.com