Felicia Day

I try to be sparing about linking posts just for the sake of linking, but sometimes a juicy nugget comes along I’d love to share with people.  The blog  Skelliwag is one I just added on my Google homepage under the column of “self-help”.  I really like it (the layout is posh!)  The articles are really well written, but this list of crazy lovely links around the internet to inspire creation was one I had to link to.

110+ Resources For Creative Minds

I hope you enjoy!  Oh, and here, look at this.  I can’t stop giggling!

I went to a Farmer’s Market this morning, because, 4 days in, the only way I can be persuaded to eat another Turkey Sandwich is to have artisianal locally made bread to dress it up.  Otherwise I’d be feeding it to my cats.

Before I moved to LA, I didn’t know about Farmer’s Markets, where local people sell their veggies and fruits and stinky soap crap from little tents each week.  It’s great.   As I peruse the rows of fresh, green radishes and kale and fresh-grown sprouts, I imagine a world where I would buy those healthy veggies and fruits and prepare homemade dishes that were nourishing and life-extending.  But then I just buy some fatty croissants and bread and eat out for dinner.

The one I went to this morning is in a rich-ish part of town.  The anti-Beverly Hills  if you would.  It’s an irritating part of town, but one where, if I were honest, I would live in a heartbeat if we could afford it.   It’s the kind of rich LA crowd who act like they’re “regular” and “hip” and wear sloppy sweaters and jeans even though the sweaters are really cashmere and the denims are +250 dollars with artfully worn holes to seem “humble.”  Even on the men.  It’s kind of surreal.   With their plastic framed glasses and scruffy beards, the Dads are clinging to a coolness they believe they’re maintaining from their single years, but you can tell there’s an air of “what happened” on their faces.  Or maybe I’m projecting.

This morning it was a flood of Hummer Baby carriages and Priuses, hip parents wrangling babies dressed in perfectly coordinated outfits, being pushed around in contraptions so elaborate that they should only be classified as a “service vehicle.”  If they barely fit on the sidewalk, 2 or 3 babies wide, shouldn’t they be driven in the bike lane?!

Anyway, this whole post was inspired not so much by the parents, as by the kids.  I was shocked that almost every little girl I saw this morning was dressed in a pink princess outfit or derivative thereof.  It was surreal.   I mean, if you’re a progressive, liberal well-off parent, why would you encourage sexual stereotyping like that?!  And these weren’t little girls throwing on pretty pieces mish-mashed together, these were obviously expensive, pink taffeta-ribbon-filled dresses bought at the store with a parent.  I even saw some tiny high heels on a 5 year old.  Scary stuff.

If I hadn’t seen so much concentrated in one area, I wouldn’t have noticed.   I know the whole “provocative kids clothes” thing has been big lately, but what about the “precious-fication” of girls?  It’s like a backlash against women’s lib.  Soon, we are going to have an army of 12 year olds that only care about manicures and hair extensions because Hannah Montana or whoever else Disney manufactured kid actor is showing them that that’s what they should care about, and no one’s discouraging otherwise.   Is it just genetic that girls want to look “pretty”, whatever age?   Is the chick-lit heroine really what we want the next gen of women to be?

Tonight I tried to make the pumpkin pie in advance, which took WAY longer than I expected because 2 grocery stores were sold out of whipping cream. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I mean, what the hell folks, please stock your stores with the appropriate ingredients, this is the pig out day of America! UGH! They were out of buttermilk too. Heathens. I finally tracked some down at Whole Foods, a nightmare inside, and I made my pie, but it almost burned because my timer decided not to ring. Nice.

My brother is in town, so we’re going to do our traditional Thanksgiving dealio:

• Prepare meal starting at 10 am. Don’t go to breakfast because we’re going to “eat soon!”
• Go to store at least twice because of forgotten ingredients, regardless of previous list making.
• Become starved by 2pm when Turkey is not done at time recipe says it is.
• Check Turkey for done-ness for 1 1/2 hours straight.
• Test the thermometer because it can’t take this long for it to be done.
• Curse Turkey.
• Weigh arguments for and against eating raw Turkey, supporting each side by Google searches on parasites/salmonella and/or quoting Rachel Ray and other cooking professionals.
• Finally Turkey is cooked. Every other side dish is cold and/or eaten already.
• Set table. Cats jump on table and starts eating any dishes left unattended.
• Eat for 15 minutes around 3 pm like ravenous hyenas. Forget to say thanks.
• Accidentally make dish ring on nice Indian Dining table because we forgot coasters.
• Almost cry over table ring.
• Feel good about selves for making a meal at home for once.
• Stare at mounds of dishes.
• Almost cry over dishes.
• Go see horrible movie. Worse rating the better.
• Order pizza at 8 pm.
• Wish I had the self discipline to be Bulimic.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving! Hope all of you have fun with your families/friends. If not, write down the things that drive you crazy, they’ll make a great novel someday

Audio: Devoted Customer Upset Jimmy Dean Downsized Sausage 16oz To 12oz But Charges Same Price

When I’m in a bad mood, some things on the internet make my day.  This is one of them.