Pink Ice

So, there I was today, in a store, shopping for life's necessities when I was deterred by the aisle containing the nail polish. It seems, recently, I'm much happier when I have nicely lacquered nails... probably related to my MLC... but nonetheless, I purchased two very fine bottles of polish, making 4 bottles this week alone.

Now to provide some relevance into why I needed the fourth bottle (as if the third bottle was not obvious--I didn't have silver, duh!): Several weeks ago, I started writing a new series of chapters for what may turn into a small book, tentatively titled Pink Ice. Our main character finds herself in the midst career boredom and a bottle of nail polish triggers a series of events that comprise the storyline. The polish is a silver pink and thusly called Pink Ice... today's 4th bottle of polish was a nice silvery pink, and it was called Pink Ice... fortuitous, no?

As you can image, I was terribly excited and felt that I needed to have that as a token to my story. When inspiration comes at $2 a bottle, you really don't pass it up. Especially when you consider that the polish gracing my nails currently runs upward of $8 a bottle and is called "deeply in love" a sentiment that neither describes me or the color very accurately... Pink Ice seems a little more apropos.

And a few comments on my outing tonight... first, it was Top of the Park for a salsa dancing lesson and listening to the Cuban music that followed (oh and there were some awesome white man dances going on to that Cuban rythym, I do have to say). It became overly crowded and I could no longer handle getting pushed in the crowd for no other reason that people are rude. A cappucino from Beaners (take that Starbucks)... and I was off to Meijer... and let me just say, screaming children do not belong in a grocery store after 9... they are tired, let them sleep and not scream for 20 minutes in the meat department. If you pre-teen falls because he isn't skilled with his stupid roller shoes, yelling at him probably won't help and only makes you look like an ass. Finally, and I can't stress this enough, showering is essentially everyday... and if you think you might not pass--take a second one before you enter a grocery store--or any establishment for that matter. Just sayin'.

Pink Ice, signing out.

The Not So Secret Cult of Mulchers

As has been the case since I started working my plot at the community garden, many, many peoples have come by and explained mulching to me. Apparently, my sitting there clearing weeds by hand was not something of the norm. But, as strange as it may be, I enjoy it and what's more, I don't care if I have to do it every week. Today in the garden was some more of the same with one guy coming over, eyeing my area suspiciously for my bale of straw and said, quite earnestly... you know, they are really big on mulch here. I looked up from my weeding, smiled and said... so I have gathered. And then, I learned a rather important lesson about what you should not even joke about in an organic community garden which is thus: NEVER joke about using Round Up. I do have to say, one guy came by and complimented me on my thorough weeding job. And I have to say, I'm a bit complusive about it. Now, now, I know that is hard to believe that I might get complusive about something... but since I am good at weeding and not so much the other aspects of the gardening scene... there you have it. Apparently, I am also a little crazy and now, in addition to my 4 tomato plants, I was compelled to buy and plant 5 more today. I have to stop buying plants just because I like the words in their names... Caspian, something Russian, PINK, etc... So you see, I HAD to buy the 4 pack of Pink Girl Tomatoes today.

And, if it wasn't enough that 4 different people came by to explain how I should be mulching, my dad called while I was in the garden and explained that I needed to get that cloth stuff for my garden--yet another form of mulch. We tabled the conversation for another time.

Mom warned me before I left out that there would be the paper mulchers before too long... and she was right. They were there today--Ann Arbor News scattered to hell and back. And I have to wonder... isn't there toxin in ink?

Politics via feline behaviour

There is no question that when it comes to my cats, Calvin is bourgeois through and through. He even looks French, with his little goatee... all he needs is a beret. Bowie, now we all know that Bowie is a throughbred Commie cat. Two brothers, seemingly at political odds, and yet, they cuddle together in the condo at least 4-5 times a week. The other two, well, who knows? What I do know is that Jake and Bowie are at constant odds iver territory and Vinnie is like the Swiss--hiding in the closet half the time. I think the main point we can take away from this that the Cold War was not about Communism and the Iraqi war is not about terrorism. So really, we are no further than when I started this post.

Hula Girl

I bought a hula hoop today... and one thing I learned, never test out a hula hoop in the store while wearing a winter coat and holding a purse. But, it is pink and sparkly and my cats are treating it like it is diseased. Somehow, I even managed to keep it hula'ing for a good 30 seconds... either I'm not that good at it or it is too big. Obviously the latter makes more sense.

The Pink Full Moon

Tonight is the full moon, aptly named by some group I can't remember the name of that is full of self-importance (as groups generally are), the Pink Full Moon. It seems only right since next month has a blue moon... it's about damn time we had a pink one!

It is no secret to anyone that I wear A LOT of pink, buy a lot of pink stuff and genuninely like the color pink. Ironically, PURPLE is my favorite color, but I look better in pink. When I think about it; it has become somewhat iconic--my friend's six year old son associates anything pink being "like Nikki." I'm not sure when it started, because I distinctly remember as a child I refused to wear pink, or frilly, or girly at all... and now I love it. And maybe because it is now on my terms, I have a lot of fun with it.

Being the full moon, I took a nice long hot bath, which, I have to admit, after driving 4 guys to WrestleMania and back last night--and hanging out at a Royal Oak coffeehouse while the meyhem pursued at Ford Field, it was just the ticket. If I weren't so tired, I'd have a beer, too... or a glass of wine... but that would put me out for the evening, and I'm getting ready to settle in and read some more--imagining the landscape of Somolia and Kenya as Ayaan Hirsi Ali recants her childhood; painful and vivid. And I have to wonder, does a woman like Ali, a target for terrorists, wear pink? It isn't meant to be a frivilous question, full of my usual sarcasm; pink has connotations and it's genuine... can someone who lives under armed guard, who's movie making partner was brutally murdered, who's family has disowned and who has denounced and criticised Islam... does she wear pink?

Pink Bubbles

A friend of mine out west told me about Lush after I had trouble finding the bubble bath I wanted for the last full moon bath. So, a week or so ago, I finally got around to placing a ridiculously expensive order--which is way easy to do as the prices on the higher side--and today I picked up the package from my leasing office where it was left yesterday (even though I was home to accept delivery, but that's for another day).

The very pick up of the package was an event. I was nearly out the door when the man who had been on the phone yelled his devotion for Lush products and shared his favorites with me before proceeding to scream "You have a sex bomb in there don't you? I was smelling your box earlier."
I did not get a sex bomb on this order; however, one of the items I did order was a soap called Rock Star... it is pink, it lathers up pink, it is simply fantastic. One person reviewed that the scent was similar to cotton candy, however I find it a little stronger than that--but still very yummy. I look forward to my next full moon bath Monday evening--which, is so aptly named the Pink Full Moon this time around.

This might be the first Monday I've truly looked forward to in some time.

Pop goes the ... doll?

Innocently, I was shopping at Target today, as one might after working out for what friends would call an excessive amount of time on a Friday... getting the usual faire, sports bra (check), sports thong (who knew they made that?! Check), cat food and litter (check, check), variety of other random items I didn't know I needed (check), and a cruise down the bedding aisle, just in case... but it was on my way toward check outs that I decided I must have chocolate, and swung through the pantry aisles... and then I saw it. Hideously grotesque... BARBIE POP TARTS.

There was my girl--pink highlights pulled back into an ultra-fashionable style, gracing the cover of a box of pop tarts that also bear her likeness. Several thoughts come immediately to mind:

Has she reached that venture in her career where cheap and lame endorsements are all she has left to cling to? Have the Bratz wreaked that much havoc on her dynasty? Are Depends endorsements next? Isn't it ironic that Barbie would be the slinger of a pop tart--do you know how bad those are for your waistline?

It is somewhat interesting that this comes up now. Just yesterday as I was leaving the gym wearing my "Barbie Dumped Ken" t-shirt, which always garners commentary unsolicited, the thought occurred to me that Barbie gets a helluva bad rap. She is discriminated against for her looks and her figure in a society that perpetuates the myth... and she isn't just fodder for feminist these days, either. And then, I wondered, as I hopped in my car toward an hour of therapy perpetuated by my own eating disorder, shouldn't feminists defend Barbie? Shouldn't her choices be protected and her rights as a female icon preserved. Instead of dogging her image, shouldn't we help her?

Here's a thought to ponder: In a society where side one tells you that you need to accept your body image and love yourself for who you are, and side two pushes you toward starvation and binging, why does side one suddenly pull out the pick axes against those affected by side two? My opinion, pop me in a toaster if you must, but to some regard, side one is just as impacted by side two, they are just in denial.