my mission

Today, I will attempt to eat all of my Halloween chocolate. That way it won't tempt me tomorrow.

editor's angst

I hate PR people today. I hate their demanding tone. I hate their expectation that I'm going to bend over and let them have it their way. I have some respect for myself as an editor, you know. I will fight back (though I will do it with a fake smile and simulated regret). I won't allow them to turn my articles into complete advertorials.

Have some trust in me, PR people. Your products will sound better without all of your fluff words and crazy-constructed passive-voice sentences. Let me do my freakin' job or buy an ad in our magazine and run all the crapified, overly wordy text that you like. Oh, I like that option much better. It saves me work and makes the magazine money.

perfect-fit jeans

Yesterday, I went jeans shopping for the first time in years. And I mean years. I bought two pairs of jeans when I was in Singapore a few years ago. Other than that, I have a vague memory of buying jeans in high school. Now, I remember why.

Women, you know the options.

combine
sits at waist
sits below waist
low rise
ultra low rise

with
boot cut
tapered
flare
straight

with
tall
medium
short

with
your size

and you get a pair of jeans that is baggy in the butt or gappy in the back at the waist or some variation of not attractive.

There are more possible options, but my mind hurts thinking about them. I didn’t even get into the whole relaxed and skinny fit issue. The combinations are mind boggling, though I’m sure Big-Bold-D could whip them up for us in a few seconds.

I think I tried most of the combinations yesterday. And I came to this conclusion: I hate jeans. I mean, the idea of them is nice, but finding a pair that fits that idea is gosh darn impossible.

Here’s why: the jeans manufacturers’ combination of fits isn’t right they are taking into consideration two important elements (waist and ass). Here's how I think we ladies should be able to pick jeans:

combine
pudgy pooch
standard waist
mini middle

with
huge hips
standard hips
hipless

with
big ass
standard butt
flat, little bum

with
weekend relaxing/I feel fat today
crisp, can wear with a button down shirt to work/looks great in boots
date/make an ex jealous/I feel sexy today
I can see your underwear line/whore

with
tall
medium
short

with
your size

Let’s see, I’d want a pudgy pooch, standard hips, flat, little bum, crisp, can wear with at button down shirt to work/looks great in boots fit in a short. And even if they did carry a pair that fits all those details, I'd still have to try to find a pair in my size. You know, skirts are very nice.

family stuff

My maternal grandmother just moved into a retirement community. I spent the weekend helping my grandma, aunt and mom pack up Grandma's things. (I spent five minutes arguing with her about why she needn't keep What Color is My Parachute 1986.) I wasn't able to help out on Monday--the day the moving trucks came. But I went over to the new place after work yesterday. Grandma was beaming. I don't remember the last time I so her so happy. It may have been at her and Grandpa's 50th wedding anniversary, but even then she had the stress and worry of Grandpa being sick.

Now, in this new place, she can be nearly stress free for a time. Dealing with all the stuff left behind at the old house can come later. She showed me every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen. She explained the placement of every piece of furniture. She talked about plans for arrange pictures. And she said she wished Grandpa could see it. He does, my aunt told her. And he's happy to see her happy.

Anyway, I'll probably head over there after work today to help with more unpacking. I want to give Grandma as much support as I can. This process has been so terribly hard for her. It's also motivated me to start going though and purging my belongings. Use it or lose it.

I told Mom that I was not going through this process with her. She'll either need to be very receptive to getting rid of stuff, or I'll send her away for a day and she'll come home to a near-empty house. I see so much of Grandma's hoarding tendency in Mom and me. This could be me, my stuff, my life. It really sank in this weekend.

as far from god

I'm editing an article on a humongous church that seats 16,000 in its sanctuary/arena and broadcasts to more than 200 million people around the world. You've probably seen the pastor on TV. Now, many of you know that theCallowQueen has issues with many televangelists. I find them often to use religion and the promise of God's gifts to believers to manipulate viewers for their own gain.

So, I'm editing this article and listening to Yahoo! Launchcast. And the song that I'm listening to is Garbage's "As Heaven Is Wide." And I hear the line, "As far from God," and it just fit. It fit with my feelings about this gargantuan church that calls an arena filled with 16,000 people a sanctuary. It fit with my feelings about the manipulations and lies that pervert Christianity. It fit with my feelings about how people feel after they realize they've been taken in and are left questioning their faith.

Nothing said could change the fact
My trust was blind
You broke the pact
If God's my witness, God must be blind

If flesh could crawl
My skin would fall
From off my bones
And run away from here

As far from God
As heaven is wide
As far from God
As angels can fly

a saved by the bell education

OK, I'm editing this article on FFC rules and children's programming. The United Church of Christ is challenging the licenses of several stations, claiming they aren't providing educational and informational children's programming. And while the FCC and the Children's Television Act mandates station serve the educational and informational needs of children, the FCC includes such shows as "Saved by the Bell" as meeting these needs. And while I'm not in favor of the FCC becoming a children's television watchdog, common sense would tell most of us that Zack et. al. will not provide much in the way of beneficial knowledge to kids, except maybe that:

If the teacher pops a test,
I know I'm in a mess,
And my dog ate all my homework last night.
Riding low in my chair,
She won't know that I'm there,
If I can hand it in tomorrow it'll be all right.
It's all right,
'cos I'm Saved by the Bell.

flirt

I am a shameless flirt. Shameless.

time wash

Morning. I wake, rub my eyes, stumble into the bathroom to take a shower. There's something about the rushing water, the enclosed space behind the shower curtain that seems to cut one off from the rest of the world. It's as if time, life is suspended. Then one finally turns off the shower, opens the shower curtain, and realizes that time hasn't stopped. In fact, it's sped forward. Stupid time.

stuffed

I ate out way too much this weekend. Uno's, Panera, Zio's, BoLings and Wheat State with Sylas and Maddy's all filled my tummy from Friday evening to Sunday's end. I'm so full. But it was all so good.

flower points

Here's another dating tip for the guys: Showing up with three, long-stemmed, peach roses on your second date with a girl will earn you major points. The point spread varies but is higher for guys who the girl wouldn't expect to be the flower-bearing type. So, for you non-metrosexuals, this is a great boost for you (especially if you plan to wear your jeans and that old, faded polo shirt).

And why peach? Well, red is way too serious; that's reserved for loves. Pink is on its way to being too serious; this is only the second date. White is too pure and friendly; we know that doesn't match your thoughts of her. The peach is a subtler pink; perfect for new possibilities.