02-08-10

“I’m not a hooker,” he says repeatedly. “I’m a surrogate lover.”

The United States has its first male prostitute. Leave it to Nevada. I’m attempting to read an already discombobulating article on the New York Times in the middle of jumping up to put Iz on the potty…three times. I’m not sure if it’s the Coca-cola I’ve traded out my routine morning tea for today (combined with all the running to beat iz to the bathroom with her frantic pee-pee dancing), or the article, but it becomes more nauseating as I go along.

His name is Markus, and his lips– if he were female we would, of course make some grand observation about being able to suck the paint off of an inanimate object, but he’s not. His lips look like they forgot to remove the collagen from the cow before putting it in the needle and having a go at it. They scare me. Go to the article if you don’t believe me. They just look wrong.

The article continues along it’s train wreck path (train wreck experience, the article is delightful), adding such awesome anecdotes as:

Minutes later, as we’re standing naked in the shower, he’s examining me like a second-rate gynecologist and nodding.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, cooing that I’m “practically” an 8 or a 9. “Everything looks great down there.”

Oh. My. God.

I am only his second client, he has been with a total of six women in his life, and, to be perfectly honest, he lost his virginity at 23.

Before becoming America’s first legal “prosti-dude,” Markus dabbled in porn while he lived in Los Angeles but quit after just two scenes because he found it too degrading to women.

He also loves cooking French cuisine. Favorite meal: chicken cordon bleu.

02-06-10

When Negotiations Backfire: A Look at Kids and Fashion

iz’s 2nd birthday fash.

Today the kids are excited: they were invited to a party with other little girls. Not just any other little girls, but fellow Barbie aficionados. A dear friend of Miss Vero’s invited us. “The girls will love it,” she says “our block is a sea of pink Barbie Jeeps as far as the eye can see.”

This, of course, brings us to the battle du jour.
Solaris and fashion are like oil and vinegar. She tries, it’s just hard for her in a town where all the other little kids are fine in their Garanimal shorts and tees. We do a lot of research online and quality time with Vogue to try to steer her in the right direction. For instance, today it’s a balmy 80 degrees or so. IsaLuna dons her super cute floral tunic from Carters in a super cute blogosphere/etsy inspired print (sans panties, as usual with her, but that is another battle).

iz’s tunic pattern.

Sol pops out in a long sweater dress ready to go. I shake my head.

ME: You can’t wear that today, sweetie, it’s too hot out.

Sol: I’m cold.

ME: (Changing direction) It’s not really in season. Here, look online at what the other little girls are wearing.

I pull up the Gymboree site, followed by Saks. I quickly learn that trying to negotiate fashion decisions with Sol using the Saks site is a mistake. Skipping past all the more affordable outfits like Chloe, Isabel Garreton and Burberry (and I use “affordable” losely), she goes right for the D&G. Even Dior is 1/3 the price of Dolce&Gabbana.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not one to spend more than $30 on a kid’s outfit given how they have a tendency to completely DESTROY anything they get near. (Artist kids– if it can be painted, it will be painted). And isn’t the purpose of buying higher quality clothing so it last longer, or is this just my utilitarian view of the matter? So if they are only in a size for a month or two, what is the point?

The Principles of Fashion Education in Emo Preschool
The original purpose of the exercise was to instill an appreciation for fashion, not that I want her to go out and drop $300 on a kid’s outfit, but so that she can learn an appreciation for style and quality so when she is out at a really great vintage shop and happens across an awesome vintage Balenciaga she won’t think twice about snatch it up for her dear mother. Ok, so really it’s so that she is able to recognize classic lines, textures and colors and apply them to more sensible items.

Fashion is an art, and like any other art is an equal mix of investment and sensuality. To not teach them to appreciate art is a tragedy. Materialism is an entirely different monster from art appreciation. She can go and experience a Van Gogh the same way she can experience a Versace, but it doesn’t mean she needs to own it. In fact, sometimes I wonder if the better investment would be to never own a Van Gogh, but instead take the lessons his pieces teach her about art and learn to recognize the potential in up and coming artists.

At least until she marries her pianist prodigy husband, Ethan and can buy herself as many Van Goghs and D&G sun dresses as her little heart desires. Until then the sweaters stay in the closet when the thermometer breaks 75, kid.

02-05-10

Your Match with Steve Could be the Start of Something Great.

Oh eHarmony. You lost me at hello. A while ago, when things caved in on my current life and it was time to start looking for new things: new job, new apartment, new nanny, I also started doing a little research on my new dating options (just to look, at this point replacing the nanny is more important than replacing the boy.) I started talking with my mom about things and she suggested eHarmony.

Mom: You know your Uncle Eric met his wife on eHarmony.

So I went. And I filled out their HUGE personality test (p.s. they repeat questions in one form or another) and found the most boring profiles of my life. It felt like I was pouring through ten thousand profiles of the same person: “i love my family, My favorite book is:  i don’t read books (which is obvious by their atrocious profiles. Capital letters!!!! My love, don’t let your Freudian aversion to big and intellectual scare you. Capital A’s are sexy) and my idea of a romantic date is: dinner.” Yawn.

At least with PlentyofFish and Craigslist, you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn and entertain yourself with some of the tragedies you find. eHarmony is just…harmonious. A big bowl of blah. And then the emails came: it was ridiculous waking up in the morning to dozens of emails with pretty similar subject lines: “Meet Philip and see if you spark” or “your match with Steve could be the start of something great”. My email box wreaked of eHarmony commercials! The subjects easily could have been “We don’t care about your future, just give us $50 a month to bug you with our branding!”

It’s hard enough not mailing out invoices for my time to these advertisers already, I’ll be damned if I’ll be paying anyone for my time in the near future. Thanks mom, but I’m not looking for wife, or a husband, or even a date right now.

Really what it boiled down to was research. Like shoe shopping, which is futile online, before I dragged my butt away from the computer and actually walked into Dillards, I wanted to know what styles were on the market right now. What I found: a lot of blue collar with spelling errors and big trucks, a few older gents with relatively established careers (and a nagging suspicion that something was terribly wrong with them) and a few ladies who’s boyfriends probably posted the ad for them. Shoe shopping online is tragic, you have to be able to physically run your hands over the product to know what you are really getting and if it will even fit you. The worse thing you could do is fall in love with a great pair of shoes and find out they are two sizes too small.

02-04-10

Bringing You the Madness Since 2003

I’ve been blogging since 2003. That is insane. 7 years July 23rd. It all started here: First! According to ProBlogDesign.com, in 2003:

- WordPress was born (yeah, I started blogging on blogger. Shut up!)
- Designing with Web Standards–the First edition, was published
- The friendster inspired Myspace launched
- Facemash was born, died and left the seeds for Facebook the following year.
- The intertubes was celebrating it’s ten year.
- Firefox & googlemail weren’t even around yet, but I remember the hoopla when they finally arrived.
- My first website was born the year before, involving a bright pink background, animated gif of a swishy tail squirrel and a photo of a half naked man that I lovingly dubbed a name that is now lost on me.

I was working on this:

Fun times.

02-04-10

Curtain.

Scene: Curtain rises on our heroine, slightly older and a tinge more single than the last time we met. The plants have all died, except for a few mints who will outlive the oldest cockroach at the end of time. Empty pots scattered in a corner, memories of a lighter era.

I’m not entirely sure what is next, or where the journey will lead me, but I am sure it will be an entertaining voyage! I apologize for the prolonged absence.