My evolution into “one of those people” continues.
I recently wrote about Stella’s new affiliation with that show Too Cute (See Kitty Porn). DirecTV offers the ability to send episodes straight to your DVR, “on demand.” (Stay with me. This isn’t a DirecTV ad, although I do typically LOVE them.) I saved several and we’ve been enjoying them ever since. The problem? They come with limited commercials, some of which are pretty damn terrifying to be played in front of a 3 year old. One is for some shite called “When Ghosts Attack.” I’m going to sound like such a mom here, but I don’t want my kid seeing that. We have enough problems with her suggestibility with respect to TV, books, etc… I’m trying to figure out who to complain to: DirecTV? Animal Planet? Anyone know? Seriously, I want to bitch.
I feel like bloody Tipper Gore. When did I become such a damn prude/square? It’s only a commercial. And yes, I’m her mother and I’m “supervising” the situation. Sure, I can just fast-forward through it. But what if I’m changing a poo-filled diaper when it comes on and the remote is clear across the room? That’s happened more than once. So far, my best solution is to start singing and dancing like a crazy person to distract Stella until I can wrap up the offending buttocks and hurl myself across the room for the remote.
I also just don’t understand fashion anymore. “Hipsters” are the worst. I saw one downtown recently while grabbing some coffee. The guy had on some oddly colored/patterned button up shirt, enormous glasses, and trousers so tight you could see contents of his back pocket (large folio-style wallet and Android phone). He was also wearing suspenders. To me, these were totally superfluous as those pants would never fall down in a billion years. So if function is off the table, it must be a form thing. I guess I’m just too old to appreciate the form in this case. And while I’m totally cool with things not being “matchy-matchy,” some of the fabric and accessory choices are just weird and ugly. Suspenders = fashion. Why not a bloody scepter or parasol?
There. I said it. I’m overbearing and hopelessly unfashionable. As long as I don’t end up in a mini-van, I can live with it.