How Proud I Must Be - January 07, 2004

Clan Snarky
Get to Know Me!
My Fanfic
Archie McPhee
The Awesome Costume Goddess
Brave Combo

How Proud I Must Be

January 07, 2004, 11:27
I love me some Hal Sparks. Is he cute and funny and snarky or what? Surprise Hal Sparks sighting (before I IMDB'd him): I bought Mt. Baldy a copy of "Dude, Where's My Car" for Xmas (fulfilling his guilty pleasure request; he also fulfilled my guilty pleasure request...In a related story, Duracell stockholders report record earnings for the fourth quarter...).

Anyhoo, Hal plays Zoltan, a computer geek who has his own cult of bubble-wrap-wearing nerds. One of my favorite Zoltan lines: "Quick! To my Mom's minivan!"

My 7 year old daughter, The Ballerina, is showing signs of developing snark potential. She stayed with my parents while Mt. Baldy and I went to the Southern Hippie Capitol City for the weekend.

My Dad, the Major, has to get his hair cut every two weeks, whether his hair is long or not -- he has to stay in regulation, even though he left the military 15 years ago. So Ballerina and my Mom, the Martha, tag along.

While Major is getting his hair cut, Ballerina is right there on top of things, watching everything the hairdresser does. Martha asks Ballerina if she wants to be a hairdresser when she grows up. Ballerina says, "No, I want to be a veterinarian. And you'll probably be dead then."

Ouch!!!! And if she said it in an evil way or a mean way, you could get your feelings hurt, but she is just matter-of-fact about it; she's got things figured out.

The weekend trip to the Southern Hippie Capitol City was great. Mt. Baldy and I stayed in a very hip hotel. It was way hipper than we are. I thought we'd fit in, groove on the hipness. Instead, we felt like really square provincial types, going "$150 a night for concrete floors?" That being said, it was nice and we appreciated the hipness and coolness. We just felt like we were allowed to hang out with the cool kids because they hadn't yet figured out what geeks we are and beat the crap out of us.

We went shopping, and spent most of our money/time in local stores and restaurants, although I made Mt. Baldy take me to the SuperMakeupStore, and the Sheets&TowelsSuperStore, and the FatChickWhoLooksLikeEmmeFashionHouse.

I bought books, books, books at the UberLocalBookStore, and my favorite Jasmine tea at the SemiLocalOrganicFoodStore. I found cool milagros for art projects as well as 1950s paint chip sheets and 1930s shooting targets for altered books ephemera. I love me some Southern Hippie Capitol City.

The Best Ice Cream: Amy's Ice Cream, in the Southern Hippie Capitol City. Mexican Vanilla flavor -- oh, mu-hy Gu-hawd! This ain't no plain vanilla, baby.

I used to think that I was a Southern Hippie Capitol City girl, fashionwise. But sitting there in my khakis and pearls and twinset, I came to the conclusion that I'm just not one for the hairy-legged, Jesus-boot-wearing, batik sarong and beat up rock t-shirt look. Don't get me wrong; I like the look. But for an, well, ample woman, the look is kinda dykey. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just not how I want to look.

I just saw too many fat, pink-haired, overly eye-lined gothlings dressed like that in the Southern Hippie Capitol City. Maybe it's my advanced age (35), but I've decided that fashion/beauty extremes don't hide the elephant in the living room (in this case, me).

I aspire to a simple chic look, that I'm not quite pulling off either.

So I'm not a Southern Hippie Capitol City girl, and I'm the very antithesis of the bleached blonde, bejeweled, boob-jobbed trophy wife of the Big Ass Metropolis. I'm kind of halfway between, I flatter myself.

Which makes me a Waco girl. Fuckity fuck.