Thanksgiving is over, bitches. I was (and am) thankful for all that I have: healthy, happy kids, a husband who puts food on the table and is a wonderful father, a lovely roof over our heads, a good life. But, there are a few things pissing me off right now. As Peter Griffin would say, this is what "really grinds my gears" lately. Let's get started, shall we?
1. Sudden Service.
There is a chain of gas stations in Tennessee called Sudden Service. This bothers me. I am sure that the CEO or whomever runs this business chose the name because it implies that your service will be speedy, prompt, or otherwise convenient. It does not imply this to me. To me it means that there are probably gas station attendants hiding behind each gas pump, waiting to spring out at you with a 64 ounce Dr Pepper and some Cheetos. They will pounce on you before you have even put your car in park, your gas tank will be filled before you even open your door to get out. Scary, is what this is to me. I get what they were going for with the name: Two S words! Cleverness! But why not Simply Service, or Service With A Smile, or any one of a hundred other S words in the dictionary? They might as well have named it Shocking Service. I figured if you're going to be called Sudden Service, you should probably just go balls-to-the-wall with the theme you've chosen, so I came up with a new logo to get the folks at Sudden Service started. You're welcome, guys.
2. Ridiculous Barbies.
Ella is at the age where she is enchanted with all things Barbie. She can spend hours dressing them, making up elaborate stories and playing them out with her plastic dolls. So it was no surprise when she asked for more Barbies for Christmas this year. What was surprising? How utterly stupid Barbie has gotten. When I was a kid, Barbie came in four different designs: Blonde, Brunette, African American, and Skipper. They were all packaged wearing something simple like a sundress or a bathing suit, and you could then choose from about ten outfits to purchase separately. Not anymore. Here is a sampling of what I found when browsing an online toy retailer. Also? The morons at Barbie Inc. must know what they're doing because Ella wants all of these crappy dolls for Christmas. Of course she does.
Totally Stylin Tattoos Barbie
Barbie wants a tattoo, and YOU get to give it to her! Also included are tattoos for your child to put on themselves. Awesome. I am super excited about my five year old becoming an apprentice to the profession of "body art". Not included are the five tequila shots Barbie did before deciding to get a tramp stamp on her lower back.
Turning Tricks Barbie, aka Fashion Fever Fashionista Doll: Sassy.
There's not much to say about this one, other than stating the obvious: This is a whore doll. I am not thrilled about my five year old daughter playing with this pro-prostitution plaything, or thinking that "fashionista" is really just fancy-talk for "gets paid in fives and ones, and more likely than not has The Clap".
I've Given Up On My Hopes And Dreams Barbie
There is a whole line of Barbies called the "I Can Be" Barbies. Among these dolls there is a Barbie pet vet, a Barbie doctor, there is even a Barbie race car driver. In theory this is a great idea, it shows young girls that if you work hard you can become whatever you want to be. Then I scrolled down and saw this one. The I Can Be A Cheerleader Barbie. Barbie seems to have said "fuck it" to any aspirations to become a lawyer, a teacher, or hell, even a housewife. She's aiming high, folks. A cheerleader. I see nothing wrong with little girls and teenagers being cheerleaders. I was even one for a couple of years there. But all of the other dolls in this series are obviously adults, as evidenced by the aforementioned doctors and race car drivers. So by the same logic, this is an adult cheerleader. If Ella graduates from college and says, "Hey, Mom, I know I just got a degree in bioengineering and all, but I'm gonna just sack those plans and be a cheerleader", I will hang her up from my roof by her toenails until she changes her little mind.
3. The Christmas Season Morons.
Starting the week before Thanksgiving, I saw no fewer than four different stories on tv and the internet that spelled out ways to save money during the holiday shopping season. Mostly I clicked on these links wondering if they were going to give me some life-changing advice, or perhaps a coupon for $500. Nope. Their "advice"? Don't put Christmas presents on your credit cards. Don't finance Christmas gifts. Shop sales. Don't buy more gifts than you can afford. Now, maybe I'm just smarter than the average person, but to me this seems like common sense. We adhere strictly to the school of thought that if we can't pay cash for it, then we don't get it. But I know there are those out there that will max out credit cards and take out loans just to ensure that little Susan gets that $200 Dream Dollhouse. When I was a mortgage broker December was actually a really busy time of year for us. People called in by the hundreds to take out second mortgages on their house just to pay for an over-the-top Christmas. Sure, little Jimmy may be overjoyed when he sees that holy grail of gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. But will he really be so thrilled when he's eating hot dogs and beans for the twentieth night in a row, all because Mommy and Daddy have to pay off Christmas? I think not. Idiots.
Dear makers of push-to-open boxes: Stop lying to me. They do not open when you push them. All that happens is that my thumbnail breaks off and my two year old learns a new curse word that day, and then gets to watch mommy throw the box of macaroni against the wall. Stop it. It would be more accurate if you put this on the box: "Try to open this box from the side, get increasingly annoyed and try opening the top, and finally resort to furiously ripping the entire box apart with nothing but your teeth and hatred."