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Category Archives: pop culture
We’ve ordered a Little Mermaid cake. The Bird is obsessed with Her Fishy-taled-ness lately. I’m cranky. There’s a thread on my local mommy board about how many of the mamas shun licensed characters and TV. It brought up some icky feelings. Loving the concept of monitoring all that your kids are exposed to and keeping their childhood as innocent as humanly possible. (Also am very sick of fast-forwarding through the scary bits and feeling guilt for letting her watch videos that are too mature for her. And in less coherent moments of annoyance, raging at Disney for being such a twisted bunch of scary fucks in the first place.)
However: I’m absolutely too exhausted from thinking about every little thing. Also pretty sure that a Disney-inclusive childhood did not ruin me. She has massive mermaid squee and it’s hard to ban anything that makes the munchkin that freaking happy. (The video came in a load of hand-me-downs and she was enchanted from the moment she saw the box. A fishy! A princess! A princess who is fishlike! zOMG!)
Is it just laziness that makes me resent the feeling that doing things in accordance with my parenting intuition is a constant uphill battle against everyone and everything in our environment? It’s not a real big deal to me, this Disney Princess thingy- I suggested the cake theme. It’s just swimming ’round there in my brain, being examined. I’m just sick to death of feeling like I have good ideas but not doing anything about them because it’s easier to flow. Swim with the school. Snerk. I just wonder what it means that I take the easy way so often… I’m pretty sure it means
I am very, very tired
and have to cut myself some slack from the uber-granola ideals I have.
To address that, Bu has suggested that I leave the house a few nights at bedtime to let him take over. Maybe I can sneak back in and she’ll stay in bed with him. The weaning trend has reversed, and I’ve had to nurse her to sleep and through the days too. Then, of course, all through the nights. As tomorrow is the birthday, I think Friday night will be a better time to start the experiment. It also happens that a bunch of girls are going to see Sex and the City and have drinks that night, so the timing is good.
The Ariel thing isn’t all fraught with commercial anxieties, anyway. I read the Hans Christian Anderson story when I was young and I love it, so there’s some sentimentality watching her love the story too. Maybe I’ll get her the real version when she’s older and I’ll feel better. I had thought of making my own illustration and having a non-Disney mermaid cake, but- again- exhausted.
I was invited to participate in another benefit show (this one is for Artists Against AIDS later this summer.) The theme is propaganda art, which should be stunningly retro-hip and witty. I’m thinking peace will be an overriding motif, and wonderfully so. I think I should go my own specific little crunchy way and do something about mothering or breastfeeding or something. I’m thinking maybe about how we sexualize babies’ food sources, i.e. boobs are not primary sexual organs. Or, I may go the “feminist isn’t a dirty word” route and vent some rage against young girls’ squeamish hesitance to use that word.
Why do I watch this fucking circus?
OK. David Cook: Very cute. Pretty talented. But for the love of pop music, WTF is a dude who cultivates the indie rocker vibe doing on this show? Meh. Chris Daughtry, blah blahdee blah blah. So, in vintage Daughtry fashion last night, he rode high on the “brave reinterpretation” of a song from one genre to another, with the glassy-eyed judges ignorant of the fact that the arrangement and whole essence of the cover was blatantly stolen from another artist. Last night, Seacrest at least acknowledged that the Billie Jean cover was via Chris Cornell’s version. The judges still went off an orgy of David worship anyway. Seriously, he did perform kick-ass-ingly, but the coolness of the thing was all due to Cornell. So I was pissed last night at the whole affair. This is Chris Cornell’s fabulous Billie Jean.
Then I saw this link from Eden and wigged completely. Doxology apparently did the arrangement for the Eleanor Rigby cover. srsly.
Add to my bitchfest the fact that every time I look at Carly Hennessy Smithson I want to bitchslap the producers because she already had (and it was an epic fail) a music career.
I’m just done. The coolest thing is getting not one night, but two back from teh box. It’s just a ridiculous time waste for me. ‘Specially now my David Cook bubble has burst.
*Edited to add* OMG I totally didn’t realize Betsy is a famous Reality TV commentator. Dood, you need to be telling us these things. How cool:) Here is her right-on recap, including how great Brooke’s Every Step You Take was:)
I keep forgetting to say, but I am in love with Brooke White and the fact that she is a squeaky clean, never-seen-an-R-movie-nanny makes me dream up all kinds of deviant fantasies that I blush to even entertain. She is So. Freaking. Sweet!
Elizabeth, am I seriously squandering precious babysitter time reading a book on feminism that has a page long diatribe on lipstick and nail polish shades? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m bored and annoyed, and I do not understand why your book isn’t called “Slut.”
It might be significant fashion-wise that the early 90’s saw a resurgence in dark gothy witchy make-up but so fucking what? (Side note, some of those of us who went full on and wore black-black lipstick were somehow able to be both dark-mysterious looking and nice. I am not sure that it’s empowered to be an ass. The examples you’re providing of Laudable Bitchiness are pretty evil. Annie Leibovitz bitched out a disabled person for being slow? Oh! How powerful of you. Blargh.)
I have Naomi Woolf’s whatever book. Beauty Myth? and also Faludi’s Backlash in my “can’t believe I still haven’t read this” pile. Maybe I should exchange this for one of those.
Although fiction would be nice. My brain needs a vacation desperately.
Honestly, Bu’s idea of popping in a borrowed Shaun of the Dead DVD sounds brilliant.
Dude, I actually voted. I have never voted. But a sweet emo-ish guitar version of Lionel Ritchie’s “Hello”? It was too good.
It’s a twenty pound toddler girl child who is driving me fucking insane. The night weaning? It’s over. I royally screwed up last week when she went through the 2 a.m. wake up and play spell, then with the flu… Someone tell me what the hell I was thinking? I am the poster child for short sightedness.
So we nursed about every 30 or 40 minutes all bloody night long and every waking minute every day since Saturday and holy Mother of God make it stop. I was lying in bed last night with the ravenous little demon creature and I was positive we won’t make it to two years. Possibly because I will have all the life force sucked out of my body and soul and the baby will grow huge until she pops in a horrific mess of milk and fish shaped crackers.
But, I’m off to drown my sorrows in pop culturey goodness- Idol viewing party with my bee eff eff and other fine ladies.