Happy B-Day to Me

Yup, today's my 35th birthday. Woohoo for me! Going to go get me a massage over to The Great American Backrub at lunchtime, then maybe do a little shopping. After work I'm ordering pizza for me and the roommates, then we're going to get all dolled up and go dancing at The Mod Club.

Oh, I'm not one of those "don't mention my birthday, I'm old!" kind of people. Or one of those "I'm not going to mention it to see if anyone remembers me" schemers, either. I certainly don't want to spend my birthday depressed. I always let people know well in advance when it's coming up. I love birthdays. Hell, it's only one day a year, and even if it's kind of a silly "yay, you haven't died yet!" anniversary, I'll take any excuse I can to be pampered a bit. Why the heck not?

I don't really care about presents or anything. It's nice that people remember you and want to do something nice for you, but it's more a day for me to celebrate me. Here is my ritual that I started about ten years ago and try to adhere to when I can. I listen to three songs at some point during the day. The Smiths' Unhappy Birthday which cheers me up more than it sounds like it would. The Sugarcubes Birthday and then Concrete Blonde's Happy Birthday. After I've danced around like an eejit to them all I like to try and go for a nice long walk. I go find a playground (there's one near my house along the lakeshore) and play on the swings for about a half an hour or so. It makes me feel like a kid again. The cool thing about a spring birthday is that if I go to the playground during the day on a schoolday there are no kids there that I have to wait to get off the swings.

I suppose if there were kids there, though, I could just tell them that it's my birthday and they'd probably let me take a turn. Kids still understand that birthdays are special and that everyone deserves a swing ride on their birthday. Course, if they wouldn't give me a turn I could always just push them off and take it anyway. What are they going to do about it? They're just a bunch of stupid kids and I'm huge I tell you. HUGE!!

*ahem* Anyway, I'm off to go get my massage with a happy ending (which for me means cheesecake afterwards). You should go and do something nice for yourself, too. Even if it's not your birthday.

You deserve it!

Fashion Forward

The other day my cute boyfriend and I were driving around and we passed by a young person. After I finished giggling at his crazily baggy pants, down around his knees with his chunky flannel undies bulging way out over top of them, I started to wonder.

I mean, we've all done stupid fashion things. Feathered hair, harem pants, backward overalls, the list goes on and on. But I couldn't seem to remember anything quite so ridiculous as the baggy pant thing, at least not one that's lasted this long.

Which made me think I'd take a look around the web to see if that could jog my memory. While I can't say I found anything I thought was more ridiculous than the baggy pant phenomenon, when putting the words "fashion" and "nightmare" into the old google image searcher I came up with some pretty interesting stuff nonetheless.

First up I ran into some pics from behind the scenes at a fashion show. I will never, ever be fashionable because I can't see anything other than extremely bored stick insects in feathers, g-strings and glitter lipstick whenever I watch a fashion show. I can't help but feel I'm having a huge joke played on me. I'm just trying to get over the pointy-toed shoe fad of the 80s and now it's back, longer and pointier than ever. (I thought my grandma's pickle-stabbers where bad, they ain't got anything over this new breed, lemme tell ya.)

Anyway, I saw some pretty bad chick fashions but then I took a gander at some of the guys in the show. Wow.


Tee hee hee! The netting tickles my nipples!"

That one dude looks like he missed out on the last tab of ecstasy just before he fell into a vat of lethargy. Poor guy. I only hope Chad there can bring his spirits up before the big show!

Next, I ran into some good ol' gals, never meanin' no harm. Although, they don't seem to be having that good of a time, come to think of it. Logic would suggest that they've done this to their t-shirts themselves. But they seem to really be upset about it, as well as so very earnest... I wonder just what in god's name they're doing. I mean, who couldn't have a good time with an oversized Tom Wopat on their stomach?


"Excuse me. Have YOU seen my daddy?"

Ah, them Dukes, them Dukes!

After my brush with the girls of Hazard County I stopped in to a club. I don't really know what's fashionable or even nightmareish about this picture, but it struck me as funny. The Gooftroop are all being normal idiot guys at a bar, while the one guy looks like he'd rather be off somewhere with Chad, hair all gelled up, draped in seaweed, and purging this morning's blueberry muffin before the big walk down the runway. A boy can dream, can't he?


Trevor, the sensitive goofball.

Just before I left off cruising the web for fashion faux pas I thought I'd get back to nature. I thought I'd take a quick peek at what Renaissance Faire folk do on their days off... never a good idea.


King of the fringe groups.

Ah, is there nothing sexier than sucking on a hunting knife?

Well, that's it for my look at fashion on the web. Hey, and you know what? Even though I didn't think I would, I did find something that's just as stupid and ugly as baggy pants, and it's been around for much longer: socks and sandals!

Indeed, I found a whole website devoted to the phenomenon (see my favourite pic below). So if you didn't get enough hideous fashion in this little space, feel free to browse around there til you get your fill!

See y'all next week!


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