Monthly Archives: March 2012

Satan butter

As a result of my eye problems, I have to be very careful to get certain things in my diet, and it’s pretty closely monitored.  The latest admonition is that I’m not getting enough fat in my diet.  I have to include more sources of fat, but I should stay away from saturated fats, watch my cholesterol, and on no account touch transfats….also I have to maintain a certain caloric intake and not mess with any of the rest of my diet….I’ve been doing hours of research and calculations.  I got my taxes prepped in less than an hour, but I’ve been at this task all evening (fun Saturday night activity, huh?  That’s how I roll) and I still don’t have an answer.  I think it may boil down to this:

Don’t you wish it could be that easy?  Satan butter:  if you touch it, you’ll go blind!

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With this LBG, I thee wed

Engagement Ring

Engagement Ring (Photo credit: Lucas_James)

A friend of mine is getting married.  Yay!  And you know her, if you read the blog closely, but I’m not allowed to announce it formally yet.  Cue the crying, hugging, dancing around, promising we’ll always be friends even after she’s got a live-in boy, etc.  Then comes the important discussion:

Me:  What are you thinking as far as the ceremony?

Friend:  I’m kind of torn.  Courthouse is very tempting, but my family would be really hurt if they couldn’t participate in a traditional wedding.

Me:  Courthouse all the way, baby.  Wham, bam, thank you, your honor!

Friend:  But the wedding dress!

Me:  That you wear once!

Friend:  And the reception!

Me:  That lasts for one evening and costs more than your honeymoon!

Friend:  And the presents!

Me:  Oh, yeah, the presents are pretty sweet.

Friend:  But if I had a wedding, I’d have to get my makeup done.

Me:  I can do your makeup!

Friend:  I’d have to wear heels.  I hate heels.

Me:  Ballet flats.

Friend:  I don’t have a preacher.

Me:  Internet Church of the Spaghetti God.

Friend:  Wait.  Which one of us wants a wedding?

Me:  I can’t help it.  I always have to have the last word.

Friend:  I can see it now:  “Do you, [friend’s name omitted] take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”  “I do.”  And do you, [Hot Fiance’s name omitted], take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”  “I do.”  “And do you, Little Blind Girl, give your blessing to the union of this man and this woman?”  “I do.”  And only then will we be legally married!

Me:  Better believe it!

You think that’s bad, just wait until you read the yet-to-be-written post about the Little Blind Girl and the Open-Bar Reception!

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Top 10 Inappropriate Thoughts I Have Had During Meetings

A penny for your thoughts...Dollars for your t...

A penny for your thoughts...Dollars for your thoughts - NARA - 513735 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We’ve all been there.  The pointless meeting that drags on and on, during which you have one, maybe two items to contribute out of thirty listed on the agenda, but you have to be there for the whole thing, sitting in an uncomfortable chair and attempting to hide the fact that you’re actually doing sudoku.  We’ve all had those thoughts cross our minds, the ones we’d never say out loud, the ones induced by extreme boredom and by resentment stemming from the piles of work waiting for us back in our offices that, let’s face it, we wouldn’t be doing anyway.  Here are my top ten inappropriate thoughts, culled from a professional lifetime of being forced to sit around for long periods of time doing nothing productive whatsoever:

  1. I’ve had sexual encounters that took less time than this presentation, and that includes foreplay.
  2. Hmmm.  Doris’ sudden illness that kept her out of the office most of last week has left her with a very nice tan.
  3. Drink whenever someone uses the term “lateral thinking”!
  4. It takes a lot to make me wish I were back at my desk returning phone calls, but congratulations, because you’ve managed it.
  5. I know it’s only 9:30; is it wrong that I’m already fantasizing about lunch?
  6. Twenty bucks to the first person to make a comment using the phrase “They call me Mister Tibbs!”
  7. Wow.  At the end of the last presentation, I almost expected the speaker to do the Tebow.
  8. I realize that you have to look after your seriously ill child, but you should have thought of that before you agreed to be in charge of a major project.
  9. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!!!
  10. Braaaiiiinnnnnssss………

And there you have it.  If you’ve ever been in a meeting that started first thing in the morning and for which you had to come back after lunch, I know you know what I’m talking about.  Cheers!  And when it comes to your turn, keep it short.  Just imagine what everyone’s thinking about you…

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Lipstick horoscopes

lipstick

lipstick (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have a theory that you can predict how your day is going to go by the shade of lipstick you put on in the morning.  Guys, obviously this is going to have a very different application for you; the rules I’m about to lay on you really only apply to girls.  But for girls, I think you can take a cue from the shade of lipstick you’re drawn to while making up in order to get an idea of how things are going to play out:

Red

First of all, there are different kinds of red, with different kinds of horoscopes to go with them.  If you’re talking about a warm red, you can expect men dressed as advertising executives from the fifties to take advantage of you while swilling liquor and smoking cigars.  This may be your thing; if so, go for that warm red.  If you pick a dark, purplish red, you can expect to hear a lot of derivative rock music in minor keys by distraught middle-class former English majors.  If you go for the blue-red, and I highly recommend a simple eye with a fine black eyeliner, a couple of coats of mascara, and a bone or taupe shadow to go with it if you do, you may end up killing someone, but you’ll look extremely sexy doing it.  For maximum effect, add matching heels.

Pink

Lady GaGa

Lady GaGa (Photo credit: ama_lia)

Again, there are a million different pinks out there.  My personal favorite is a kind of greyish-pink with a little bit of shimmer that’s light without being pale; if you choose this color, you are going to get into a battle of wits for extremely high stakes that you’ll probably win.  I wouldn’t just depend on the lipstick, though.  Have a backup plan, like lipgloss.  There is, of course, the highly unnatural Lady Gaga pink (seriously, she designed a shade exactly along these lines for MAC).  If you choose this shade, be careful when going to restaurants, particularly steakhouses, as you can expect sudden inexplicable urges to wear your entree.  A darker shade of pink, in the rose family, indicates a long sea voyage and unexpected wealth.  I don’t know, I’m running out of ideas here.  This is hard.

Neutral

The thing about neutral lipstick is that, while there are literally thousands of shades of neutral lipstick, it’s almost impossible to tell them apart.  They all tend to have the same horoscope, which is that you will be overlooked, under-appreciated, taken for granted, and forgotten on your birthday.  Don’t wear neutral colors.  In the kind of life that calls for lipstick, you’re not going to get anywhere or achieve anything by blending in.  Wear purple lipstick.  I can predict with absolute certainty that, at the very least, you’ll get noticed.

Studio publicity portrait of the American actr...

Studio publicity portrait of the American actress Elizabeth Taylor. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Madame Little Blind Girl has spoken.  Cross her palm with silver to show your appreciation, or at least leave a comment on the post.  Choose and apply your lipstick with care!  There’s no telling the far-reaching consequences that decision may have on your life.  Don’t even ask what happens if the lipstick wears off by lunchtime.

And, guys:  whatever shade of lipstick you choose, I guarantee that your day will not be boring.  Just remember to wipe the corners of your mouth and touch up throughout the day.  Oh, and stay away from orange lipstick.  That rule applies to everyone!

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Clothes are better than diaries

Wall Closet

Wall Closet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I clean out my closet fairly often, since I don’t have much room for clothes and therefore can’t keep items that don’t fit or that I don’t wear.  I’ve been more or less the same size since high school, so I’ve got a few items that are pretty old, and it’s funny to trace my evolution through my fashion choices.

I still have the olive green corduroys with butterflies on the back pockets that a friend persuaded me to buy in college with money that really should have gone toward things like printer paper and food. I still fit in them because I habitually buy frivolous items with money that should have gone toward food.  They’re actually a little big on me now, but it’s okay because I’m much more likely these days to slouch around a park in the afternoon than to go to a party.  Just as well to have the extra room.  It’s hard to slouch effectively in tight pants.

Then there are the lace-up black ankle boots that I fell in love with fifteen years ago and had to have, and that I still wear because they have brilliant rubber soles with tread in addition to three-inch spike heels, and I’m convinced I could outrun attackers, defuse the bomb and save the boy when I’m wearing those boots.  I can wear them just about anywhere, in any setting.  I’ve gone hiking in them, and I’ve gone to church in them.  Other boots have come and gone, but the black ankle boots remain, and are a pretty good metaphor for who I am.

 

John Lennon

John Lennon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But I think my favorite item of clothing is a T-shirt that I stole from my big sister, a T-shirt of John Lennon in NYC.  It’s as old as I am, thin as tissue, with holes in areas that necessitate wearing it with another shirt underneath if I’m going out in public.  It’s authentic vintage and definitely the coolest piece of clothing in my closet.  Cooler than the jacket that looks like leather but is actually animal-friendly and washable, cooler than the gold silk skirt that will always look classy no matter what’s in style, cooler than the classic white button-down blouse my mother got me when I landed my first grown-up job.  Of course, it’s that much cooler since I had to filch it from my sister’s drawer when she was still living at home!  Sorry, Big Sis.  I love you, but we’re talking John Lennon here.

These days I mostly buy suits and pantyhose, with the occasional pair of neutral-colored slacks and a tasteful selection of work-appropriate shirts.  But back in the day, I rocked torn jeans and a vintage tee.  Sometimes I still do, on the weekends.  Maybe I’ll drag Johnny out tomorrow, hit a few bars, and see if I get carded.  Like I said at the beginning of this post, I don’t have room to store clothes I don’t wear!

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How to rant effectively

Angry Penguin

Angry Penguin (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m looking out for you guys.  I want you all to lead happy and fulfilling lives, and I want to spare you from the pain and trauma that exist around every corner in this world.  So here is today’s life lesson:

What with the election season heating up and all the controversy over transvaginal ultrasounds and Tim Tebow being traded and all the other drama going on in our complicated little lives, we’ve seen a number of very passionate monologues, dialogues, arguments, discussions, and flat-out rants lately.  They’re on TV, at home, at work, in church, waiting in line at the grocery store…you haven’t lived until you’ve had a gut-wrenching, no-holds-barred debate on Kim Kardashian’s marriage with the lady at the next table in the coffee shop, and then you realize at the end of it that not only have you never seen each other before that day, you haven’t even bothered to exchange names.

So because I want to help you on your path to spiritual enlightenment, here is my advice:  if you’re going to go on a rant, be it televised or otherwise, make sure you dress up.  I get a lot of free entertainment out of watching people go on television in bad suits and uncombed hair, giving longwinded diatribes on the proper method of vermin control or whatever hot button issue, but a rant inevitably ends up with the ranter sounding like a crazy person with his or her voice hitting that register that only other nutjobs can hear.  If your hair is all shiny and styled and your makeup is done, maybe you’ve got a particularly flattering shirt on, no matter how crazy you sound, you will still come off as reasonable.  This is because people don’t actually pay attention to the content of what other people say.  Politicians have been taking advantage of this fact for centuries.

This also holds true if you just happen to be in the lunchroom at work and someone wants to bring up the latest idiot comment that [Insert politician/celebrity of choice’s name here] said.  If you’re having a bad hair day, or your tie is loose or there’s a run in your pantyhose, you’re going to come across as disheveled and unstable.  If you’re all power-suited up and you’re wearing your diamond earrings and you actually bothered to curl your lashes that day, you can say whatever you want and someone’s going to nod along with you.  Ranting is all about image.  You don’t want to be the crazy-homeless-person-ranter.  You want to be the clever, witty, insightful ranter who could have your own television show if you weren’t too busy doing work that matters.

So there’s your life lesson for the day: rant with style and you, too, could end up with a special broadcast on Yahoo, filmed in front of a hand-selected audience who will laugh and clap sycophantically.  Or else you’ll just rule the lunch room.  If you haven’t managed to pull it quite together, bite your tongue and live to rant another day.  But always rant responsibly.  Here endeth the lesson.

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Ask a Little Blind Girl, Part 2

Old woman at desk, 1967

Image via Wikipedia

It’s time for another installment of Ask a Little Blind Girl, because there just wasn’t enough crazy in the first go round.  This time, we have some really burning questions that I know you’ve all been wondering about.  I have actually been asked each of these questions–the first two I get pretty frequently.  The last one was just recently posed, but it’s an issue of such magnitude that I’m throwing it in right away, and I think you’ll understand why when you get to it.  So here we go:

 

1.  Little Blind Girl, I like to go out at night, but I can’t wear contacts and I’m too vain to wear my glasses.  How can I tell if a guy is hot if I can’t actually see him?

–Myopic in Manhattan

Dear Myopic in Manhattan:  Yeah, blind and vain is a really frustrating combination.  But if you’ve conquered the questions of how to put on eyeliner when you can’t see what you’re doing and how to navigate a crowded club in four inch heels with no depth perception, this one’s fairly easy.

Respect M.E.

Image via Wikipedia

Guys will treat girls as crappily as they can get away with.  The cuter the guy, the more he can get away with, because girls as a rule will let him.  Lesson 1 to take from all this:  Girls, grow a f*cking spine and stop putting up with this sh*t.  Lesson 2 to take from all this:  if a guy is treating you really nicely and is showing lots of courtesy, he’s either really ugly, happily married, or gay.

If a guy is treating you like you’re something he found on the bottom of his shoe after he walked the dog, you don’t have to know what he looks like to know he’s hot.  But trust me, he’s not worth it.  You put a lot of effort into getting all prettied up to go out, spend your time with someone who appreciates that.  If you never put your glasses back on, you’ll never know the difference.

2.  Little Blind Girl, why do you spend so long in the bathroom getting ready if you can’t even see what you look like?  What’s the point?

–Definitely a Guy in Way Too Much of a Hurry

Dear Definitely a Guy in Way Too Much of a Hurry:  You have completely misunderstood the point of the bathroom ritual for girls.  This is not just about trying not to look like death warmed over, thereby ensuring that I will appear unprofessional and a poor employment prospect, and it’s also not about attracting guys (although that would be nice) or impressing my girlfriends (who honest to God don’t care).  This is my meditation.

See: www.falundafa.org/eng/exercises.html

Image via Wikipedia

I could sit around in a lotus position humming for hours, or I could make myself pretty by doing unbelievably damaging things to my hair and putting acid directly on my face.  I choose acid.  Mostly because I find the lotus position incredibly uncomfortable, but also because I like the steam that comes from my curling iron when I’m frying the crap out of my hair.  I like to put on some soothing music, light some candles, maybe have a fruit smoothie, and coat my face in pounds of makeup so no one knows what I really look like.  This has the added benefit that when I turn to my life of crime, no one will be able to give a good description of me.  Bonus!  This is my “me” time.  Just let me have it.

 

3.  Dear Little Blind Girl:  Who’s sexier, Johnny Depp in full Captain Jack Sparrow regalia or Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry?

–Anonymous

Dear Anonymous:  Oh, my God, why do you hate me?  I have no idea.  It’s like a paradox, like two things with this much sexy can’t exist at the same time or the universe will explode.  It’s just not possible, and yet–does anyone know if Benedict Cumberbatch has actually read any erotic poetry?  We may want to sign a treaty forbidding him to do it, just in case it ends up being too much sexy for one world.

Benedict Cumberbatch

Benedict Cumberbatch (Photo credit: honeyfitz)

And are we talking about really good erotic poetry?  I mean, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is the ultimate in visual sexy…but as a Little Blind Girl, I think I’m going to have to go with Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry.  I never thought the day would come.  Sorry, Johnny.  It’s not you, it’s me.  If anyone knows of any recordings of Benedict Cumberbatch reading erotic poetry, let me know.  Please.  Really, please.

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Things I will never do, so stop asking

English: Illustration of a shocked, or frighte...

Image via Wikipedia

There are many situations in which I get asked if I’ll do something that I would never in a million years do.  This happens slightly less often since I graduated from school, but it still comes up a little more frequently than I’m really comfortable with.  It only takes one drunk friend on Facebook, you know?  Plus, now that I’ve started a blog, I get random requests from people I don’t know but who think they know me because they read the blog.

 

So here’s a list of some of the more frequent and/or bizarre requests that I will never, ever do, so stop asking.  Please.

1.  The cinnamon challenge

This is where people attempt to swallow a tablespoon of cinnamon in under a minute without drinking anything and without vomiting or inhaling the powder.  Apparently, this totally sucks, although I really think I could have figured that out on my own when part of the challenge involves not vomiting.  Schools are banning kids from sneaking in cinnamon to do this during school hours, and at least one principal has been suspended for not cracking down on this growing menace.  Cinnamon as contraband?  Well, whatever, I guess.  But no, I’m not taking the cinnamon challenge.  Stop asking.  As a consolation, here’s Jenna Marbles, one of my favorite vloggers, taking the cinnamon challenge dressed as Drake.  Awesome.

 

2.  Eat my broccoli

Broccoli

Broccoli (Photo credit: Cookthinker)

I’m a grown woman, living on my own, and I don’t wanna eat my broccoli.  You can’t make me.  No you can’t.  No you can’t.  No you can’t.  No no no no no!  I don’t like the way it tastes, I don’t like the way it smells, and I don’t want to eat it.  You know what?  Broccoli’s going in the trash!  Oh, no, is that the sound of a green vegetable hitting the bottom of the trashcan?  Yes, I believe it is.  Broccoli’s gone.  Never gonna eat it.  Stop asking.  On with the ice cream!

3.  Make a sex tape

Never gonna happen.  Stop asking.

4.  Drink tequila.

tequila

tequila (Photo credit: doviende)

That stuff’s nasty.  And there are worms, and if there are worms anywhere near any beverage, I’m not drinking it.  I’m not exactly one for little frou-frou girly drinks, but tequila is seriously icky.  I think people keep drinking it because they don’t remember in the morning how nasty it is.  They just wonder why they have their underwear around their necks.  In my experience, there are much more pleasant ways to end up with underwear around your neck–although when tequila is involved, it’s probably just as well to black out.  So, no, I don’t want a shot of tequila.  Not the cheap stuff, not the expensive stuff, not even if there’s no worm.  Stop asking, and bring me a beer.

 

5.  Learn to cook

I’ve tried.  I have cookbooks and I’ve watched cooking shows and I’ve planned romantic home cooked meals for current honeys.  But, dude, I’m blind.  As a result of my attempts at cooking, I’ve got scars all up and down my arms, nearly chopped off a finger, and ended up in the emergency room more than once.  I also set off the smoke alarms about a third of the time, and whenever I try to chop onions I have to lie down for twenty minutes with a damp cloth over my eyes.  Take out rocks.  Delivery rocks even harder.  I can order chinese food like a mofo.  Little Kung Pao Girl, that’s me.  I tried to learn to cook, and I failed.  Stop asking, or my health insurance company is going to drop me.

So there it is.  Five things I Absolutely Will Not Do.  Unless Johnny Depp asks me, and even then, he’d have to be dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.  So stop asking.  Unless you’re Johnny Depp dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow.  Are you?

Captain Jack Sparrow

Image via Wikipedia

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Little Mean Girl

Welcome to Powerpoint on PowerPoint

Image via Wikipedia

This is one of the times when it’s really hard to be a Little Blind Girl.  At the training conference I was at, the teachers kept using PowerPoint, and they would turn the lights off and on over and over throughout each day.  It played merry hell with my eyes.  And as if that weren’t enough, there was a photographer there memorializing the event with flash photography.  Every picture was like a knife stabbing into my eyes.  After nearly ten minutes of this, I was about ready to drop him, I swear I was.  And the handouts had this miniscule font, which I couldn’t have seen anyway because the lights were off, and on and on and on…

At the end of every day, I had excruciating headaches.  I hadn’t forgotten you guys, but it was more than I could do to stare at a backlit screen and focus my eyes enough to type out a blog entry.  I stayed in my hotel room and didn’t go out playing with the other conferees and was generally irritable and antisocial the entire time, thus earning the new nickname of Little Mean Girl.  It shouldn’t be so hard just to try to keep up with the developments in my profession, just to try to do my job and live my life.  I shouldn’t have to lock myself in a dark room and avoid all company.  It shouldn’t physically hurt just to get through the day.

English: The rich red earth of Herefordshire T...

Image via Wikipedia

Is it this hard all the time for everyone?  Am I being a whiny little babypants?  I probably am.  I’ll stop now and think about the starving children in China who would give anything to be able to attend a PowerPoint presentation.  I’ll remember how lucky I am that I can see anything at all; I may not have been able to see the screen for the training presentations, but I could see the hillsides as we drove to the training facility a little after dawn, red earth gleaming wet and dark against the  slowly brightening sky.  I could hear the presenters even when I’m pretty sure they didn’t want me to, and I could lean over and make snide comments to the person sitting next to me.  Really, as long as I can snark, I can make it through the day.

But if that photographer comes back around at my next training conference, I’m putting my four-inch heel through his foot.  Photographer, You Have Been Warned!

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