Sometimes when I go to my local grocery store I see a white family there who is raising a black girl. The girl is about five and every time I see them the girl’s skin looks all dry and ashy and her hair is dry and matted. I used to see families like this quite often when I went to college in Vermont and I always complained. If you’re going to adopt a child of a different ethnicity than yourself shouldn’t take some time to learn some simple things about how to care for that child. Can’t you see that your baby is ashy and something needs to be done about it? I just don’t understand.
In this day in age there are plenty of resources online to help white parents manage their black children’s hair. I look at some of these sites and they do a good job at explaining what to do about your child’s hair. My favorite site is Happy Girl Hair.
Today I was reading a post on Curly Nikki and she linked to a story about a white father who learned how to do his Ethiopian daughter’s hair. Even though he uses a plastic fork to make the parts he does a good job.
I saw this video on White Readers Meet Black Authors and I thought it was funny, but I was shocked when I got to the end and realized it was a BYU video because I swear the guy curses in the middle of it. I watched again just to check and I swear the guy says F%$@ in the middle of this video. It seems strange that BYU would make a promotional video about using the Harold B. Lee Library with a swear word in the middle. Anyway, watch it and tell me, do you hear a swear word? What the heck is happening at BYU these days?
In an alternate reality what job would you be doing? Some people wonder about things like this. I’ve tried all kinds of different jobs and I’m pretty sure that my personality is most suited to being independently wealthy and waited on by servants. This post isn’t about me though. It’s about someone else.
Apparently, the musicians in this area wonder about what their jobs would be in alternate realities too. There’s a list that gets passed around that suggests possible alternative professions for area musicians. It’s good to have options in case the whole music thing doesn’t work out.
My husband recently saw the list and of course he was on it. His suggested profession is rodeo cowboy. He seems a bit disappointed by this, but I think its perfect. I can picture him in a cowboy hat and boots.
I noticed a wiry gray hair sticking out of the side of my head the other day. At first I though it must belong to someone else, but when I tried to remove it from my own hair I found it was attached firmly to my own scalp. Now that I’m closer to 40 than 30 I guess gray hairs are just going to randomly attach themselves to me like leeches sucking all my youth out through their silvery strands. Am I being a bit too melodramatic?
It’s 11 o’clock at night and suddenly we heard helicopters flying low over our area. In my opinion, that’s never a good sign. So, I say to my husband, “Go make sure the door is locked in case there’s a criminal on the loose.” You’ll never guess what he did. (Actually, I’m quite sure you’ll guess what he did.) He went outside! What’s that all about? Who just walks into trouble like that?
My husband is the guy in the horror movie who says, “What’s that noise?” Then he goes to check it out. You know Jason is going to kill him and the whole time you’re trying to tell him through the screen to run. But he won’t run. He’s looking behind doors and in closets. We all know what happens next.
If helicopters are flying low over your house you should lock the door, stay away from the windows, and maybe even hide under the bed. You shouldn’t go outside to find out what’s going on. You can get that information from television later or the newspaper if you don’t have a television like us.
The fire alarm started to sound when I was in the grocery store today. No one even flinched. They all just carried on shopping like nothing was happening. “What’s that?” I asked my husband just to make sure I wasn’t the only one hearing it.
“Sounds like the fire alarm,” he said. He didn’t seem concerned at all so I decided I shouldn’t be concerned either. I just continued picking out produce.
What’s the point of having fire alarms if everyone just ignores them?
Woman 1: We’re going to have a fashion party. The girls will try on designer clothes and have their hair and make-up done. The make-up will be age appropriate of course.
Woman 2: Well of course.
I’ll let the designer clothes thing slide, but I want to know what age appropriate make-up for a 7 year old looks like. Maybe it’s face paint, but somehow I doubt it.
Nothing beats a quaint English town. The old buildings and narrow streets ooze charm. My husband drives around the country quite a lot traveling from gig to gig. During his travels he’s seen a lot of English towns. His favorite things about them are their names. Here are some examples:
Titty Hill
Cocking
Cockermouth
Dorking
Balls Cross
Assington
Effingham
Uckfield
Upper Dicker
Lower Dicker
My husband likes the racier names, but I prefer pleasant sounding names like Grimsby. Wouldn’t just just love to live there?
If you spend any time on the internet you’ve seen the before and after pictures on weight loss ads that seem to appear on every website I look at these days. They promise you that you can loose lots of weight if you follow some special diet plan, take weight loss pills, or consume acai berries. I love these ads and often find myself clicking on them just to see what their claims are.
The before and after pictures are the best part. Most of the time, I don’t even think the same people are featured in the the before and after photos. That’s a pretty amazing weight loss pill if it helps you loose 50 pound and changes your bone structure all at the same time.
The other day I saw this picture on an ad on a site.
You can’t even tell if these are the same people. They don’t even bother showing her face in the first picture. I wonder why. Even if it is the same person what changed really. She stopped sticking out her belly, put on a shirt that covered her midsection, and then carefully camouflaged her stomach with an After sign.
So that volcano in Iceland is still erupting leaving air travellers stranded in airports all over the world. I’m just letting you know in case you haven’t been watching the news. Goodness knows I haven’t. I didn’t even realize this eruption thing was still an issue until I was in church in Sunday and this situation was mentioned in the opening prayer.
I can’t even image how those poor stranded people must feel. If I have more than a 3-hour layover in an airport I start to loose my mind. This has been going on for days and days now. When I asked my husband how long volcanoes usually erupt he said, “Sometimes they erupt for years.” Suddenly I felt really stranded too.
I think those stranded air travellers should band together and use their creative ingenuity and know-how to build a vehicle out of luggage carts to cross the continent. The travelers that have to cross the seas should strap their luggage together Joe-Versus-the-Volcano-style and sail across. I mean that’s what I would do. It’s the next logical step, isn’t it? It worked for Joe.
All the news reports keep referring to this volcano as the volcano in Iceland or the Icelandic volcano. It made me wonder if it had a name so I looked it up and found out why they called it that. Does anyone know how to pronounce Eyjafjallajökull?
