Princess Bubble Written by: Susan Johnston and Kimberly Webb

Illustrated by: Maria Tonelli

Published by: Bubble Gum Press

Reviewed by: Stephanie Rollins and Parish Rollins (age 4) for ReviewYourBook.com 9/2008

A friend and I were discussing how to teach our daughters that they do not necessarily have to grow up, marry, and have children. How do we teach them that it is okay to be single? This book is the answer.

It is a modern-day fairy tale. Through cute characters and scenarios, it teaches little girls that happiness comes from being okay with yourself and through loving God. It shows that it is okay to marry, and most of your friends will marry. It is also okay to not marry. 

The illustrations are adorable. I had to wait to review it after my daughter’s bedtime; she did not want to let it go! This will make a great gift!

http://www.reviewyourbook.com/review.cfm?reviewid=1127 ]]> http://mintormunt.wordpress.com/?p=90 Tue, 07 Oct 2008 09:27:04 +0000 extremedave http://mintormunt.pl.wordpress.com/2008/10/07/october-7th-2008/ <   MINT  vs.  MUNT  >

I like THE LIKE, but I cannot decide what I like most, their music or great style.  Either way, I wanted to let you know they are going on a mini tour.  They are touring with Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band so I am not sure you'll be seeing me at the shows, as I rather see them play a whole set.  Their ensembles never dissapoint, so check them out even if it is only for fashion inspiration.

Check tour dates over on The Like's myspace page, here.  P.S. Tennessee [middle] has a new boyfriend named Mark Ronson.

Now ~ where you stand?

There is a common theory that says during tough economic times, people tend to drink more booze. Nothing cures depression like a depressant. 

So I tested this theory last week. 

Wednesday night is a common drinking night among youngish single men in this little slice of Florida. It has something to do with a ladies-night function at a normally ill-attended outdoor bar. Imagine it if you can; half-priced well drinks for the ladies. It's like Navy-boy bait. See the girls drink and watch the sailors flock to the bars in their tricked-out Ford Focus cars or their crotch rockets. Our defense dollars hard at work. 

I am single, so the allure of a concentrated population of women is too much to resist, no matter how realistic I am about my chances of meeting a decent woman in such a place. 

My co-pilot and I decide to start the evening there. It began with a simple gin & tonic, a beverage I tell people that I enjoy because it's clear and, by extension, healthier. The truth is that it’s a strong drink and does a much better job of doing what alcohol is supposed to do. It's a matter of simple economics. To me, one G&T is like two or three beers. 

This bar is always packed, and being a pudgy dude does me no favors when it comes to getting served. I explain to my friend that it's stupid for the bar to ignore men on ladies night, only because we are the gender paying full price. But what do I know? A little-known secret about this particular ladies night is that there is a small, out-of-the-way beer stand a few feet from the bar. No one goes there. It’s probably because the lady there requires a $20 minimum on a bar tab. It's highway robbery if you ask me, but I decide to play her little game. 

Five beers later, my friend and I retreat to a different establishment with slightly better atmosphere and much more tolerable douche-bag to cool-person ratio. This is important. 

I scoot up to the bar. Here I am a regular. The nice Hispanic bartender asks me what I want. I land on a Delirium Nocturnum, a Belgian beer with a high alcohol content. It's served in a snifter like a brandy. It tastes like candy. After drinking it very quickly (which by-the-way is one of my biggest problems), I went back for one more beer. A PBR.

So let's run this down:

One gin & tonic

Five beers

One really strong beer

Followed by one awful beer 

What follows will be told through the ages by a Puerto Rican financial planner from New Jersey named Lou and my good friend. I stumble outside to where my party gathered. I began a heated argument with a lesbian about why I don't believe in God. The argument consists of me screaming at her for 15 minutes as she started slack-jawed at the gall of this complete stranger. “She could kill me with her gigantic hands,” I thought. She let me live. I explain to my financial planning friend that I need a place to deposit my insides. He directs me far away from the table to a brick archway that separates two bars and connects the front of the building to a rear parking lot. It's dark in there and seems like a good place to get jumped if a person is alone and prone to carrying large wads of cash. Naturally, is the perfect place to lie down and take a nap. 

So, I lay on the cold, hard bricks and closed my eyes. The world wobbles as my composure wanes. Just then, my friends peak around the corner and find me splayed about the ground, mumbling to myself. They gather me up and force the keys from my hand. This is a good move on everyone’s part considering a fellow journalist got a DUI just few hours earlier. 

As we walk through the brick archway to my car, we pass a homeless man asleep on the ground not 10 feet where I took take my "nap." I felt a little regret because I probably woke this man from what I am sure was a great night's sleep. Back in my car, my friend put me in the passengers’ seat. I open the door to empty the contents of my stomach on the parking lot of my workplace. This continues for several miles down the road as my friend drives me home. 

I remember very little about walking through my front door. When I awoke the next day, my clothes lay in a messy pile in my foyer and my car was also gone. My friend took it home with him. Upon his return trip to my home, I noticed the side of my new black car now resembles abstract art, caked with dried vomit that took three runs through a car wash to remove. 

These are the experiences that breed the valuable life lessons we learn on a terrible Wednesday nights. 

This brings me to Saturday. 

Bitten by the urge never to drink again, I made the heavy drinker’s oath never to let that happen again. I kept it simple on Gallery Night, a Friday evening in downtown Pensacola where people dress up and walk from art gallery to art gallery to eat cheese, drink free wine and generally give two-shits about art. 

After behaving myself at the art ordeal, I ventured to a rock club with my married friend to watch a series of folk-punk bands. I drink two beers and a glass of wine. This leads to a conversation with a cute waitress who shares the name of one of my ex-girlfriends. The waitress has the eyes of a troublemaker. In them you can see something that exposes some deep-rooted pain, or a past experience not worth examining in an otherwise casual conversation about the snowfall in New York. 

Before we left, a group of guys in a car drove past. An egg strikes the right arm my new brown polo shirt. Another waitress tells me this happens a lot. The alpha males still pick on the music dorks. It’s like high school, but for grown ups.   

From the music club, I go home. I sleep and wake the next day sans-hangover. What a nice feeling for a nearly 30-year-old man. I went to a local church book sale where I find several Graham Green volumes and a Thomas Wolfe book that my personal library lacks. I took the dog to the park. I enjoy a nice afternoon. 

I eat a nice dinner and a share drink with a friend before returning home to a CD ripping project that began after an Apple tech support “genius” told me I needed to delete all of my 10,000 songs from my computer and re-rip all of my CDs. I’m in week five of this project. Shortly after 1:30 on what was now a relaxing early Sunday morning, my phone rings. 

This can’t be good. 

Earlier in that evening, my married friend and his wife attended a birthday bash for his uncle who turned 60. Somehow these married friends ended up at a gay bar with one of their uncle’s friends. My friend explained that, unbeknownst to him, he parked his car in the employee parking lot. An angry drag queen refused to move his/her car until the bar closed at 3 a.m. 

Assuming I was already out, my friend asks sheepishly if I will take everyone home. 

I felt like I owed somebody something for the luck I experienced Wednesday in having my own good friend take me home. I threw on some outdoor clothes and set off on this adventure. I arrive at the bar to find my friend arguing with a woman who insists they will tow his car if he leaves it there. My friend’s intoxicated wife sits on the ground and an off-duty police officer working a security detail moderates what is now a heated debate. 

The married friends jump in the car followed by their gay friend. Turns out I was taking this guy home too. This gay man slurred and talked at elevated volumes as he gave poor directions to his home. After dropping him off, my friend confides in me that the gay man offered to give me head if I drove him home. I am glad this offer wasn’t made to the general public. 

I drive my friend and his somewhat belligerent and intoxicated wife home. My friend says he planned to drive back and get his car, but logic kicked in. I told him that I would take him down to get his car, that way he wouldn’t have to leave another vehicle somewhere. I half believed wanted me to offer this anyway, so I did the right thing. His wife stumbled into the house. I later learned she got really sick. “Better her than me,” I thought upon learning this. 

We return to the gay bar and find my friend’s car is still blocked. We decided to ride back to the music club to see what became of what was billed as a “Comic Book Dance Party.” Seeing only a few kids seated on the sidewalk, we head back to the gay bar and wait for the drag queen to free his car. While making a u-turn, I noticed several of the interesting hookers that frequent this part of town for the perverts and men who pay for fat sex. 

I remark to my friend that one of these hookers looked like a dude. He agrees. 

We return to the bar. The drag queen’s car is gone. All is right with the world. I went home feeling good that I wouldn’t have a hang over the next day.

After hookers, drag queens, the offer of oral sex and my drunken friends, I can see why sometimes it’s fun to remain sober and watch others as they act silly in this stupid real-life farce. Don’t fret. It won’t belong before I reprise my role as one of its main characters. But this is how we cope with hard times, even if the sensation is only fleeting and leaves you with a dry mouth and a splitting headache. 

I wonder what kind of candy would be given out if hoellege age chicks went around trick or treating? Wouldn't that be a sight to see. I bet you would see a whole lot more dads walking around keeping their tykes safe from marauders and child snatchers inappropriate? maybe. Care? definitely not. Hmm, then there runs the chance of the mothers and wives, mobilizing in some sort of anti-hoelloween version of M.A.D.D. , taking offense to all the fathers, and partners, going out ogling all the candy porn out there. If your wondering where this is going, i'll let you know, it's going right here, just wanted to say candy porn to lead into the fact that I fraquing loooooove candy corn. Sugar, corn syrup, and water and cooked them into a slurry; Fondant added for texture; marshmallows providing the soft bite. then all the different sizes, shapes and colours*. What's not to like. As much as I loooove it I hardly ever eat it at any time besides around halloween, I am pretty sure it is available at all times, I am considering stockpiling some corn of candy this season. Speaking of stockpiling, remember the people that used to leave a bucket of candy at the door with a note saying you should take one since they were either not there, not allowed by law to talk to kids (yes I went there again and I still don't care) or the third option that they could not be bothered to pretend to like your cheap ass costume but were still enough of a Lemming to feel they would not be doing their part in society without spreading the candy joy? Remember how you would sprint up to the bowl, excited that you would have a half time preview of the nd of the night goodness that is digging through a bunch of candy for what you like best, instead of the coin flip** that a knock on the door and a hand full of candy was? Remember finding the bowl, empty because some douche kid had taken them all? That kid was me, I got there and found shit candy (Tootsie Rolls) and instead of fleeing in terror as i believe all people should from the horror that is Tootsie roll, I took all the bowls contents in order to assuage my anger, disgust and disappointment by pelting costumed children, like you, with them. I kid I kid, you I did not live by you, I did not take the candy, but who wouldn't stoopid absentee adults, pedophiles*** and passive participators, "just take one," Ha! being hopped up on sugar and dressed as little demons will all of a sudden make kids and young teens start caring about each other.

I Intended to give some more recipes on how to make candy and talk more about its many virtues and dark hidden evils and untruths, but I tire of this. Halloween is 25 days away, on to costume ideas.

• Since Hoelloween is going nowhere, why not organize a candy porn party, pretty much just your regular college age Halloween fare + Candy.
• Ladies, I use the term loosely, if you must Hoelloween (punny haha loose, hoes? get it...) it up instead of going as one of the cliche go toes, like sexy nurse, why not go as a Foxxy Love (costume) from Drawn Together. If you have not seen the show do yourself a favor, go find it watch it, bring friends. If you would like to challenge yourself this Halloween, you could try and hoe up Strawberry Sweetcake or to be different without having to think too much of how to wear less, gender bend as Xandir (costume).
• Costumes for everyone: Candy! M & M's are always good, but you can try different takes on them. as a group you can go as 3 musketeers and be both the french and candy. Or one person the two people be the letter m and one an ampersand, you could make huge hands and spread butter on them for Butterfinger, Carry a baby while wearing a shirt that says my name is Ruth for Babe Ruth (I know he's a baseball player and has a shirt but make your own) . You could just make fun of people and snicker at them for Snickers and if you are or can find a girl named Katherine, Kathleen, Katarina, Katrina, Kathryn, Kathy and variations all you will need is a black 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am or a  a 2008 Ford Mustang  Shelby GT500 KR , and you've got a Kit Kat .Since your shortening the female name to get Kat you can drop the Thousand to get kit, and if anyone asks tell them to give you a break...that was candy corny, wow I do not like where this is going must stop here are pictures of candy costumes

• *See how I spelled colours there? I remember coming to the states from Kenya, where which the country formerly one of the colonies of the United Kingdom , I had learnt my English. I was rather dismayed to find that they did not use the letter 'U' in their spelling. I remember thinking, "What's wrong with you, what did U do?" or was it "What's wrong with U, what did you do?!" It was none, I was not that punny as a sixth grader, but I am bringing the U back. I do not mean "the U," I cannot bring that back, remember how dominant they used to be?
• **ever need to flip a coin when online? I have and after you bookmark this link I am sure you will find reasons to flip a coin or two online, just like if you'd find reasons to use a huge well financed and trained army if you had one, because you know that's what it's there for.
• ***I referenced the  a taboo subject 3 times, without any remorse. Your allowed to hate me know, since I don't care about you anyway. Kidding, unless its you Kali...so not my favorite.

• here is a treat for you curious enought o check what was down here

Knight rider clips, luved it but not as much as candy corn

new car has yet to prove itself but here this guy

Question: Name a program that educates poor women and girls, reduces poverty, and promotes the use of sustainable, environmentally friendly solar energy.

The answer as you have probably guessed from the title is Barefoot College in India. Founded in 1972 by Bunker Roy, Barefoot College draws students, mostly illiterate women from developing countries and in as little as six months turns then into engineers capable of solar electrifying a village.

Barefoot College places a priority on training rural women. Mr. Roy says, "We've come to the sad conclusion men are untrainable. They expect too much. They are restless. If they're young, they're impatient. The first thing they ask even before the training starts is, do I get a certificate? They will use that certificate to get the worst job possible in a city, whereas if we take middle-aged grandmothers to be trained I don't have that problem of migration."

Graduates of Barefoot College are able to earn extra income for their families, have improved status in their homes and communities, provide a clean, sustainable energy source for their communities and are more likely to insist on education for their daughters.

Solar has opened new opportunities for work and study especially for girls. Girls are often kept out of school to perform household chores. Solar energy has made night schools for girls possible.

Funded by the UN and private foundations Barefoot College has solar electrified some 350 villages across India and dozens more in sub-Saharan Africa and even war-torn Afghanistan.

That's inspiring!

There's this part where the rodent and his friend are separated and lost and wandering alone through the desert. They keep seeing mirages and oases. Suddenly they walk right past each other (the odds of this I'm not going to get into). But they're imagined so many visions that they figure that it's not really their friend so they walk past each other without saying hello.

This is what dating in Los Angeles is like. You've seen so many fake beautiful looking people and when you talk to them you discover that they're not real. So when you spot a girl who might actually be real and interesting and intelligent, you walk past her without saying hello because you assume she's a mirage.

In my neighborhood, everyone is either pre-highschool and getting escorted home by their moms or an elderly home resident. Or a dude--why are the dudes always on the sidewalk and never the girls? Actually, I take that back, I know why--too many catcalls. I know that from seeing girls get hit on and from living with a girl who gets a lot of catcalls. I probably wouldn't want to be hanging out on the street either. Oh my goodness, that could also lead to being designated as a woman of the night, couldn't it? Well, I guess I've answered my own question.

But seriously, why is it that all the girls I'm attracted to live in other states? I mean, I know I'm fairly hairy (shout out to my newborn kid, Beardsly. Stay strong and grow well, my son), but I had no idea it would drive women into other states. Consider this: I'm attracted to multiple girls in Texas, North Carolina, Minnesota (oddly enough there are more than two in that state I'm attracted to--I can't figure it out, particularly since I've never been there. Curse you, Twin Cities and your attractive women magnets!) and just about every girl in Manhattan--which, by the way, might as well be in another state. Let's say the East River is the State Border because it takes me like 45 minutes to get anywhere cool in Manhattan, namely 14th Street (and sometimes above). My passport is my Metro Card and I have to show it to get in as well as to get out. I also have to use it in order to get around the Great State of Manhattan.

Back to the issue at hand, though. How the hell did I screw up so badly? Was I seduced by large living rooms and individual bedrooms? In a word, Yes. Would I still have signed the lease had I known I would be risking my own mental health by secluding myself from girls to whom I find myself greatly attracted? In a word, No. I was seduced by material goods instead of the things that rise above material wealth (love and friendship, not boobies you fuckin' pervert). Perhaps not seduced as much as tricked.

Never again, brain, shall we live in an area where there are not girls we're attracted to. If you think I'm going to let you forget this, you are clearly out yo damn mind. You slippin' in yo old age. I'mma call you later.

The last one only got one reply, maybe this time i'll get more.

I know what you're thinking, where the hell did he find this picture. I don't know where it came from, but I know one thing, clowns should be put down.

This year, the NHL unleashed a new line of women's clothing that, in my opinion, should all be burned. I know for a fact that most women would rather wear an actual jersey than one of these terribly ugly pink or baby blue jerseys.

Long time reader Risa gives her two cents:

The new pink/blue/sparkly jerseys make me want to bash someones head in. The very idea that women don't want ot wear their team colors is insulting. The colors are there for a reason, they're supposed to be something to have pride in. Pink and blue makes you a generic fan, not a fan of your team. Why do all female things ahve to be shiny/sparkly/pink or even "cut for a female form?" Just give us the same [gosh darned] clothes as the men in [smaller] sizes! Many of us would be very, very grateful.

It just seems to me that if you're going to wear sports stuff, shouldn't you wear it in your teams' colors? Yes. I have a green Bruins hat (but at least it was a free giveaway for st. patrick's day).

The team colors are there for a reason so you might as well make use of them. And honestly, what do pink and baby blue have to do with hockey? Nada. (Ed. Note: ) Make womens clothing that is relevant to being a sports fan because we'll wear it.

I get it, the NHL is trying to broaden its fan base. They're trying to market themselves to the girly-girls. But honestly, the only girly-girls that are coming to games are being dragged there by their boyfriends. Plus, true female hockey fans wont cover their eyes and scream in horror every time this happens:

Maybe this is part of the reason they are trying to minimize fighting in the league. Which brings up the question of why would the NHL be trying to soften the game of hockey, and in turn alienating the traditional hockey fan, in order to pull in a demographic that, frankly, doesn't care?

A sexy one?? Send it to Konyagiusa@yahoo.com

U can win

Know Your Power: A Message to America’s Daughters. By Nancy Pelosi with Amy Hill Hearth. Doubleday, 180 pp., $23.95.

By Janice Harayda

This book has inspired toxic comments on Amazon, apparently coming both from Republicans opposed to Nancy Pelosi’s liberal politics and Democrats enraged by her refusal to support impeachment proceedings against George W. Bush. Those diatribes may be too harsh. How bad can a book be when it includes an admission by the nation’s highest-ranking elected female official that she got where she is partly by declining to ironing her husband’s shirts?

Know Your Power isn’t a definitive autobiography but a brief memoir that its publisher optimistically but rightly categorizes as “motivational.” And it would be welcome if only because it offers an alternate model to any woman who thinks she could never meet Sarah Palin’s standard of running for high office as the mother of an infant and four other children. An implicit message of Know Your Power is: You don’t have to.

In this book Pelosi describes how she found her rewards sequentially. She got her start in politics when the mayor of San Francisco appointed her to the Library Commission while she was a full-time wife, mother, and volunteer who had given birth to five children in six years. But she didn't become Speaker of the House until decades later. After becoming a Congresswoman, Pelosi seems to have accepted that she could never be the perfect wife envisioned by some of the women’s magazines: She has represented her California district since 1987, and her husband has never lived in Washington. A cornerstone of her philosophy of life is, “Organize, don’t agonize.”

Pelosi gives a strong sense of the rewards of a life in politics, some learned from her father, a Congressman from Maryland and mayor of Baltimore. She also sees the comic absurdities faced by elected officials of both sexes. One fan told her, “Speaker Pelosi, I named my dog after you." One of the strongest sections of the book deals with her remarkable mother, who raised seven children -- one of whom died at the age of three -- and made sacrifices that indirectly underscore the need for elected female officials of both parties.

“My mother was a wonderful wife and parent, and she was also an entrepreneur and visionary,” Pelosi writes. “She started law school but had to stop when three of her sons had whooping cough at the same time. She made astute investments, but Daddy would not sign off on them (which, sadly, would have been necessary at the time). She had a patent on the first device to apply steam to the face, called Velex – Beauty by Vapor. It was her brainchild, and she had customers throughout the United States, but Daddy wanted her close to home.”

Amid such reminiscences, Pelosi offers advice to anyone who aspires to career in public service. “Don’t overstate what you will deliver, and always complete the task agreed to.” “Quality childcare is the missing link in the chain of progress for women and families.” Then there’s the advice she got from Lindy Boggs, former Congresswoman from Louisiana: “Never fight a fight as if it’s your last one.”

Some of the nastiness in politics today clearly results from the problem noted by Boggs, that many elected officials fight every fight as if it were their last. It’s easier to take an end-justifies-the-means view if you think you’ll never face your opponent -- or American voters -- again. Partly for that reason, if Know Your Power is billed as a book for “America’s Daughters,” it has a message for American’s sons, too.

Best line: On why she majored in history at Trinity College in Washington. D.C.: “I had intended to major in political science, but at Trinity at that time you had to major in history in order to study political science. Our teachers often quoted the great English historian J.R. Seeley’s aphorism: History without political science has no fruit. Political science without history has no root.” As someone who majored in political science major, I think Trinity had it right here. I had good poli sci professors but almost no history courses, which left me with an inadequate context for some of their lessons. If I had it to do over, I would major in history or English, which might have required me to take a few Shakespeare courses. I thought I had enough Shakespeare partly because I'd had a wonderful introduction to his greatest plays in high school. Wrong. You never have enough Shakespeare, especially if you're a writer.

Worst lines: “This is an historic moment …” “This was a historic day in our house.” Pelosi apparently can’t decide whether its “an historic” or “a historic” and is hedging her bets. “A historic” is correct. To oversimplify: “An historic” dates to the early English settlers of our continent, many of whom dropped the “h” at the beginning of words, and the construction perpetuates the outdated language.

Recommendation? Know Your Power has crossover appeal. Doubleday has packaged it as a book for adults, and in bookstores and libraries, you'll find it with the new adult nonfiction. But this book may especially appeal to teenage girls, including college students, who are hoping to go into public service.

Reading group guide: Doubleday has posted one at doubleday.com/2008/07/28/know-your-power-by-nancy-pelosi/, but this is a guide that’s almost worse than none. Sample questions: " What roles do women occupy, or have they occupied, in your family? Did you have older female relatives who worked while raising a family?” These questions do not engage the serious issues Pelosi raises. You could ask them about almost any book by any female author from Edith Wharton to Toni Morrison.

Published: July 2008

Furthermore: Pelosi represents California’s 8th Congressional District, which includes much of San Francisco. She became Speaker of the House in January 2007 www.house.gov/pelosi/biography/bio.html.

© 2008 Janice Harayda. All rights reserved.
www.janiceharayda.com

Federation + 3 Hot Girls = Essential Listening

If you like girls or music or Federation Sound, then this CD is definitely worth your bandwidth.

DOWNLOAD HERE.

But the issue came up on a listserv for parenting educators that I'm on (NPEN), when one of the members (who's a man and a father) sought help to answer the question from a reader of his regular column on parenting. The question was from a mother of a 9 year old who wondered what to tell her daughter who wanted to start, in part to avoid the teasing of her friends.

I was interested in my colleagues' responses to this, and here Gary summarizes and posts his answer to the question. . Essentially the advice is this, if she can do it safely, let her do it. Some specific points made were these:

• for many girls shaving one's legs is a rite of passage to adulthood and the mother should 'be there' for her daughter and encourage her learning and her choices
• at 9 she is still a girl and immature in many ways. Her physical safety should be monitored, and she should be limited to just shaving her lower legs (rather than areas around the bikini bottom promoted for older teens and women)
• or rather than shaving, if she wants to remove the hair, try chemical products, like Nair

Still others took a different tack:

• rather than focusing on shaving her legs, the mother should concern herself with her daughter's self-esteem and her need to look and act like other girls
• since teasing by others was part of the motivation to shave, the mother should also help her daughter deal with managing her response to bullying

I love my colleagues. In their responses they have touched on many perspectives of parenting: keeping our children safe, promoting their physical, psychological, social and emotional growth, respecting them as individuals, taking the broader view of popular culture and social dynamics as influences on behavior and self-esteem.

My own advice to Alice when it came up centered pretty much around, "why would you want to?" She is very fair and her hair is light. There may have been an age criteria, like 11, but I don't remember. I do know that my conversations emphasized both safety (not til you're old enough to handle a blade) and social conformity. And I probably checked some of the 'know your body' books that we'd gotten for her (and that she read/reads. If you're curious - books like these are incredibly valuable to girls and boys. They can read about issues they are shy to discuss, and they do want the facts). I have high regard for folks who specialize in personal health and sex education for kids. And I do remember getting some of the lotion stuff first. No, a washcloth was first, but when I gave in, we went with something Alice found a coupon for. It wasn't as bad, but it stank just like the stuff I used in the early 1970s.

It was a good question because it brought up another issue that women feel they need to conform with (smooth legs - and more?), yet which some women, because of genetics or their social situation have more freedom on their choices. My hair is light, but would I have been so bold to reject shaving if my hair was darker and thicker? And my choice of workplace is very liberal when it comes to attire. But would I be a fan of the blade if I worked in a setting that encouraged women's wear of skirts? Of course our personal choices reveal our principles about conforming to beauty. Shaving is a feminist issue. And it is an interesting, representative issue, because it does involve choice (including the choice to shave) and encourages use to explore through our daughter's first time, early choices, the reasons why.

Yes! These hot girls from 2008 Paris Motor Show. They keep walking in front of the production cars and concepts and informing inquisitive journalists of the merits of the vehicles. But it not all what they do here!! Let's not talk more and just look at these beautiful booth babes...

In continued more beauty ladies (photo and video)!!

Video:

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This last thing is all tied up with the other two whiners in our household: my lovely daughters.  Tess is understandable, if nonetheless exhausting, because of her physical circumstances this week.  Even though physically she appears to be feeling better as of yesterday, she must just be having some lingering, post-illness post-teething whining and clinginess.  I literally don't know what to do with her half the day because none of the things that come to my mind to do are what she wants me to do, and of course this side of talking I'm ignorant of what it is she DOES want me to do.  whimper whimper whimper.

Then Lil is the other source of my tiredness and whininess this morning (I almost legitimately typed this smorning-- see, my brain cannot be functioning correctly) because the past couple nights she's been suddenly all weirded out at bedtime.  I'm not sure what's bringing it on but she is just having difficulty going off to sleep and is instead crying, clingy, and complainy.  Then last night I was up pretty much every half an hour or so, I'd guess, from about 12 to 3:30, because she kept coming into our room needing something.  First, multiple times of restarting her lullaby CD.  Then I switched her from the guest bedroom (where she had chosen to sleep for some odd reason three nights in a row-- although for the second night in a row this had resulted in a transition back to her own bed) back into her room.  Then more lullaby CD restarts.  Then a complaint that she "just couldn't sleep."  Yeah, no kidding-- neither can I!!  She had no reasonings or explanations and didn't seem upset or scared-- I don't know what is going on.  She just wasn't sleeping.  And of course she kept coming the long way 'round to MY side of the bed, never mind Daddy sleeping on the side closest to the door......  Finally I told her I'd put her CD back on but that was the last time, I wasn't getting up again.  That seemed to work, she's still asleep now.  Hopefully she'll sleep nice and late so she's not a beast all day.

Now I've got to go b/c Tess is insisting on sitting on my lap, hitting me in the lip with the book she found on the desk that she wants me to read, turning around to tell me "hi" with a snotty face, and bouncing on my knees with what smells incriminatingly like a dirty diaper.  SIGH..........

However, I still love girls--maybe because I am one, eh?  I especially love the clothes and shoes that are deigned for them.  I used to pine away at all the cute, dainty pieces in the stores.  Now I don't have to fantatsize any more because I can buy them!

Nicholas is not really into clothes.  He will put on anything.  I've had to train him over the years to match colors.  He's pretty good at it now, but still takes little interest in clothes.  He does not like to go shopping and believes that giving clothing as gifts is in bad taste.  When he was four months old, I took him out to buy a snow suit.  He was livid that I dared to try it on him.  I can still see his chubby red face contorted with tears.  I guess he never recovered from that incident! 

But I like shopping for him as well, it just represents more of a challenge.  I like to mix up his wardrobe so that it includes more than the standard t-shirts and jeans.  His clothes remain in mint condition because he wears uniforms to school.

I have bought Jazmine so many clothes that we are running out of storage space.  There is a new store at one of my favorite malls called Crazy Eights (go figure!) with the most adorable girl clothing and accessories.  I also like Target and Macy's.  But the fact is that most stores have cute things for girls!  It is soooo hard for me to resist!!!

It is nice having both sugar and spice.

Former 'Atomic Kitten' member Kerry Katona is to reveal her prized assets on TV on her bran new MTV show. The show will reveal her naked chest as she prepares to under go a breast augmentation operation. She has previosuly under-gone a string of operations in the past in an attempt to get back to her original shape including lipo suction on her stomach and thighs. Following the operation, Kerry Katona has gone from an enormous 34GG to a busty 34DD. However close friends to the star have said that she is reluctant to come out of her home as she now thinks her breasts are too small! Such a complicated life eh?

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