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AFV

The other day I happened to have on America’s Funniest Home Videos, which I rarely watch. My son sat next to me on the couch, constantly asking, “What happened? What happened, Mommy?”

There are only so many times I can answer, “He fell down, honey.”

America's Funniest Home Videos

America’s Funniest Home Videos

There was a time when I thought that America’s Funniest Home Videos wold run out of material.

Wait, listen to me before you judge. It was a past century, a very different time.

When the show debuted in 1989, the viewing audience sent in their videotaped bloopers. At that time, not every household could even afford a video camera. And not everyone who owned one captured something funny enough for the show. Then, in a cash grab, people went through their old 8mm film looking for comedy gold.

But, at some point, I figured people would run out accidents from the past to send in. And there was no way recent footage could keep up with the demand to keep the show on the air, right?

I didn’t foresee the birth of the smart phone. (If I had, I would be sitting here naked in a pile of money right now.) People overnight were able to capture absolutely every single second of their lives in a file of moving pictures. I mean, look at the tragedy of 9/11/2001. BOTH planes crashing into the World Trade Center were caught on tape.

Falling down has gone from being shot on film to recorded on video tape to saved in a file. No more worrying about that pesky trip to the post office to ship your bulky old black plastic VHS to California. Now you can just email the footage for free. The evolution of earning money for clumsiness in the last three decades is staggering.

AFV-nuts

Speaking of AFV, I have always wondered why the audience dresses up in suits and fancy dresses. Am I the only one that thinks that is bizarre? It is a show a show where people obtain groin injuries for others’ entertainment. Are the audience members planning to dine at a hoity-toity restaurant after? AFV is always promoting Disney. Couldn’t they just have some tourists from Disneyland file into the studio wearing their shorts and Hawaiian shirts and ball caps? (Confession: I have never been to a Disney theme park, but that is what I imagine the people all wear.)

Please check out my updated EVENTS page, as I have just added a few new ones for this year.

And speaking of events, I have a NEW CONTEST running where you can win a pair of passes to the GREAT LAKES BOOK BASH October 10th in Kalamazoo, MI. Winner provides own transportation and/or lodging. See contest for complete rules. Contest ends September 15, 2015.

Foto Phriday: What is wrong with this picture?

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Now, look at this picture, circa 1984. What looks out of place to you?

What looks unusual?

What looks wrong?

Dinosaur Gardens

Dinosaur Gardens

If you said the dinosaur, you are incorrect. This picture was taken at Dinosaur Gardens Prehistoric Zoo in Ossineke, Michigan. So, well, there were dinosaurs roaming all over that place. The brontosaurus in the picture happened to be drooling on me. But he obviously didn’t eat me, because I am still here.

No, what is wrong with this picture is that I am WEARING a DRESS.

And on vacation? What the f was I thinking?

I didn’t even wear a dress to my own wedding

Principles – I HAS DEM

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A year ago, I was desperate for a job. But even then, there were some things that turned me off to certain jobs.

I applied to many jobs that required a drug test. Only one actually was interested in me enough to want to send me for one. But, as I got a concrete job offer from a different business, I took the concrete job offer. The place requiring the test had not given me a job offer. I was just in a big cue with a bunch of other desperate applicants. Mostly, I did not want to take the drug test. Now, Lazy Hippie Mama will vouch for me, that I am the squeakiest clean girl out there. Actually, she laughs at me that I don’t want to take one. The test would not have found anything. But I don’t really want any job enough to give them my bodily fluids. Unless, say maybe Edward Cullen is looking for blood donors.

I feel the same way about being finger printed for a job. A background check on me would turn up nothing that I would need to hide. But, if in the future, I want to start committing crimes, I want to have that option open. I want my fingerprints to be some of those that have no match in the CSI database. (I also don’t want to get a library card–just another way the government can track you!)

It is like in high school when my favorite teacher asked me why I wasn’t going to join the school’s anti-drug program. He must have been curious. He knew I was a good kid, did my homework, co-editor of the school newspaper, of which he was the adviser. Aside from the obvious fact that it was a big phoney club full of students who most definitely did do drugs, I told him the truth: I told him that I wanted to keep my options open for illegal drug use in the future. I still have that viewpoint.

So, that brings me to the purpose of this post. I have never been big on dress codes, but realize that in some positions they are made a necessity by the management.

My manager wants me to wear…

Ugh.

I can’t even get the words out.

Matched socks.

Not only that, she wants them to be black!

YOU:  Why DON'T you match your sox?  MY REPLY:  Why SHOULD they match?

YOU: Why DON’T you match your sox? MY REPLY: Why SHOULD they match?

Now, when I was hired a year ago, I gladly agreed to wear black, closed-toe shoes with black pants and a work shirt. They never said anything about socks. There is nothing about socks in the employee handbook. At one point, my manager’s manager saw my socks, and we had a whole conversation about why I mismatch them. She never indicated that this was a bad thing. With new faces at the top of our local rung of the corporate ladder, we have now been instructed to wear black shirts under our work shirts, and black blazers over them. Now, mind you, we have to buy EVERYTHING but the work shirt ourselves. And if the minimum wage were to be raised to the value that the President of the United States has thrown around in the press since his State of the Union speech, I would stand to get a raise of over a dollar. I would be really upset about the blazer thing, if I did not already have one. And since I don’t have any black shirts without Twilight logos or characters on them, I had to buy one of those just to wear for work.

But this sock thing really irks me. Afterall, mismatched socks IS MY THANG! And, I mean, no one is probably even going to notice, as my pants meet the tops of my shoes. But I feel like there will be secret sock patrols out to catch me! I feel like I do my job pretty well. But part of me wonders if they would fire me over non-conforming socks.

THEY ARE SOCKS!

They are not like a ring in my nose or a tattoo on my forehead. Although, what would really be so wrong with those things either. Socks are a personal, private thing between a person’s feet and their shoes. Socks are like underwear. You wear them under your pants and shoes. I would not work at any job that tries to legislate my underpants and bra.

And if they did fire me over socks, it just might be worth it. I would still have my self respect. And imagine when I fill out future job applications. They will say “Reason for Leaving”, I could put “I wouldn’t wear black socks.” Some might see that as stubborn or not a team player. But some future employer might see it for the ridiculousness that it is.

Wedding Jeans

The gazebo in the park we got married at

As a general rule, I do not wear dresses. Or skirts, for that matter. I don’t wear them on a normal day, to work, or to job interviews. The one exception I make is to wear them to weddings. Other people’s weddings. Not my own. Intrigued? Read on…(And no, I did not get married in the nude!)

My then-boyfriend and I had talked about marriage, but he wasn’t ready to propose to me yet. At twenty-four, he still felt he was too young to get married. But I was still thinking about my wedding, anyway. I was not one of those girls who day dreamed about her wedding for years and what white poofy dress she would wear. Nope. I think about high school age I decided my dream wedding would be to get married in Las Vegas by Elvis. I am still waiting for that wedding. *sigh*

So although my boyfriend hadn’t proposed to me, I was still wondering what I would wear to my own wedding. I knew a big white dress was out. I must have thought “If only I could just wear jeans”. And that is how the “wedding jeans” were born.

Reception


Do you remember how I like unusual sewing projects, such as the pharmacy giraffe, Christmas stockings, and the Werecart? Well, you can add wedding jeans to that list too. I bought all the white patches I could find. Most featured flowers or hearts. I put them on the legs and back pockets of the jeans. Then I bought thin white ribbon and iridescent seed beads. I sewed the ribbon along the tops of the pockets, and down the side seams of both legs. Then I sewed the seed beads on top of the ribbon. By hand. Sewing through a denim seam is no picnic. I bent several needles in the process.

Now, when I started this project, I kept saying I wasn’t really going to wear the jeans for my wedding. But once my future husband saw them being made and how cool they were, he told me I had to wear them. That he would make me. It is a good thing I started them like 6 months before he proposed, because I think I worked on them for a year. I had them ready a few months before we were married. My jeans were a little too big. Which was unfortunate, because I couldn’t try to wash and shrink them now, as it would have ruined the decorations. So I made a white and yellow ribbon braided belt for them. Sort of dorky, but it did the job.

Now, the hard part was finding a shirt to wear with it. I pictured something white and billowy, sort of like a pirate would wear. Not my usual style, but it was for my wedding day. I bought three different white shirts and I was unhappy with all of them. I ended up wearing just a plain white T-shirt. (I am still looking for the perfect shirt to this day. And if I found it I just might buy it.) On my feet I wore my favorite sandals–pretty basic, brown leather. In my hair, I had baby’s breath put into a half a French braid. The bottom of my hair was curled and hung free.

Ta-Da! The Wedding Jeans. (Front View)


On our invitations, we put “Casual Attire Suggested”. We had our wedding and reception outdoors in August, so it was a little warm. It was a sunny day, no rain. My husband wore a gray shirt and black pants. My bridesmaid wore a denim skirt. We got married in a city part that was just a block from our apartment. (We walked to our own wedding.) We had our reception in my mother-in-law’s backyard, with hamburgers and hot dogs. I didn’t have to worry about changing my clothes or “bustling” anything. I didn’t have to worry about wardrobe malfunctions (although I am sure that I probably worried anyway). In our wedding pictures, my husband and I have genuine toothy smiles, not the kind we usually give for pictures where we keep our mouths closed to hide our crooked teeth. All out smiles.

Wedding Jeans (Rear View)…Hey, quit staring at my ass!


My advice to anyone is to have your wedding your way. And ask for lots of help. I tried to do too much on my own. No one ever said a word about my wedding jeans. Which means either everyone liked them or knew how to be polite. What happened to Vegas, you ask? Well, we didn’t have our wedding there because my husband wanted his family to be able to come and they could not have all made it to Vegas. So my plan was that we would go to Vegas to get our vows renewed for our 5 year anniversary. Didn’t happen. But we should definitely go do it for our ten year anniversary–8/23/2013.

HAPPY 9th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TODAY TO MY HUSBAND!

Who doesn’t read my blog, but he supports me writing it, which may be even better.

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