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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2006-03-01 ... 2:36 p.m.

The other day we visited Mitsuwa for the first time. It would have been slightly more relaxing had Ms. Nora not been along for the ride, although she did score adorable "kid's ramen" (with panda faces in every bowl!) and some kind of gum product* featuring her beloved Thomas the Goddamned Tank Engine, otherwise known as TV's biggest dork.** LT and I went a little nuts buying noodles and snacks, my favorite of the latter being these weird sweet crackers with the cutest cartoon squid on the package, even though there is no squid listed anywhere in the ingredients. Not even an "other natural ingredients" that could conceal squidage. I wish that more processed foods were similarly divorced from their wrappings---I don't need a drop of water on my water-bottle label, or a picture of a Triscuit on my Triscuit box. Fuck you if you don't know what a Triscuit looks like.

We often got jobs involving package design at my Middle-Eastern-ad-agency expat "job" (under-the-table copywriting undertaken solely so as not to lose my mind from the utter dullness of living on a "housewife" visa). Gulf Arabs are mightily fond of their dairy products (I swear grocery stores there sold more-than-full-fat milk, although I cannot corroborate this now), so many of the package-design jobs were for powdered milk or yogurt or butter. Our main design guy was ranting one day about how all such packages featured cows. "Yeah, milk comes from cows," he said. "So what! It's tired! It's over! No more cows!" So he mocked up about a dozen options for yogurt containers: fruit and smiling kids and abstract shapes and pastoral scenes, but no cows. Of course, after the client meeting: "They want to see an option with a cow." Much anger and throwing of colored pencils. It was probably cruel of me, but I could not stop laughing that day every time I looked over at his work area and saw him steaming mad, muttering Hindi obscenities, resentfully drawing cow after cow.

*OH MY GOD NORA IS TOO YOUNG FOR GUM! And yet it seems not. No swallowing, no choking, no dumb shenanigans like sticking it under the furniture, no arguments about spitting it out in order to eat or brush teeth or go to school, and she often picks the gum over cookies or juice-popsicles for her after-dinner treat. This seems a foolish choice to me, but whatever.

**I don't know if it is just because I come from the freewheeling Electric Company era or what, but this show is so square it makes my head hurt---all the eagerness to please, all the duty and responsibility, all The Big Capitalist Show Must Go On No Matter What Anyone's Personal Objections. Nora is especially gaga over the Emily engine, which would figure as it is nearly impossible to find Emily swag, and believe me, I have looked. The show may make me somewhat ill, and I may mentally flip Sir Topham Hat the bird about once a minute while watching it, but I would gladly hand some cash over to the Thomas empire to see my little gearheaded daughter's eyes light up. I suspect some sexist overtones in the non-licensing of the Emily image, some unenlightened corporate decision-maker deciding that female trains don't sell.

IN MORMON NEWS: They're back! The shiny-clean boys with the nametags rode my bus yesterday, and one of them even sat next to me. Because I am deranged, the minute I saw them I started humming "Morrrrrmons...Morrrrrmons" as quietly as I could and did not stop even when one of them sat next to me.

IN LEGWEAR NEWS: I can be a bit of a princess when it comes to tights: however, since they are something I wear nearly every single spring/fall/winter day (I seriously own like two pairs of pants), I will not apologize too much for my pickiness. Usually I spend too much money on the Hue or Levante brands, which is why I was so excited to learn about these, which are available at Walgreen's and pretty decent:

But then I got cocky about the thriftiness, and when Walgreen's was out of my size I decided to go ahead and try these

and they are hell on earth. I should have known something was wrong when they came in only one size, claiming to fit anyone between 90 lbs and 160 lbs. I should have noted the lack of any kind of stretchy fiber content on the label. But I was tights-needy and they were only three dollars so I went ahead, and then when I tried to doff the giant black scratchy leg-sack---then, I rued the day. The day, it was rued. But alas. Alack. Woe unto those who try to save a hosiery buck.

IN BAFFLING BLUE'S CLUES NEWS: Nora shows up in the office with a notebook and a crayon and says, "I am going to draw you three clues, and then you solve a mystery."

"Oh, is this like Blue's Clues?" I ask.
"Sort of," she says. "But I am not Steve. I am not Joe either. I am just Nora. Are you ready?"

Sure I was. Why not. In fact, I decide that I love this game, because I get to sit on my ass and tweedledee on the Internet while Nora goes off and draws something in a notebook for whole minutes at a time. Of course, I have no idea what the scribbled clues are. The first one looks like a microphone, but Nora tells me it is a syringe. Where did she learn that word? The second one turns out to be a bunny, and the third drawing is a slice of bread.

A syringe, a bunny, and a slice of bread. Any takers? All we could come up with was something lame about the history of penicillin. Luckily Nora had long since lost interest in the game, and I highly doubt she had any conclusion in mind in the first place.

IN NUTRITION NEWS: I had Teddy Grahams and tea for breakfast, greasy Thai food for lunch, and will probably have beer for dinner as I'm going out with my sister. If we want to get really healthy, maybe we will share some fries or something at the bar. Don't you wish you were my colon?

---mimi smartypants does not leave her own possessions or parcels unattended on board or at stations.


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