Whattup, Mom

Monday, May 13, 2013

Yesterday was national post "My mom is the best ever" on facebook, so you guys, let's talk statistics.

I wish some honest child had posted, "My mom is the 900th best mom ever" because, considering there's billions of moms in the world, we're still talking better than top 0.001% and that's legitimately impressive. I'm going to assume the 900th best mom in the world packages chips into individual zip lock bags for daily school lunches and never misses a sporting event.

I spent my Mother's Day hanging out with my boyfriend in Arkansas. I know what you're thinking "Worst child ever" but, I did send a card and gave my mom a call, so let's talk statistics...

Also, notably, my mom spent her Mother's Day moving my middle sister out of her college house. So, suddenly I'm at least above one other child out there on the child charts. :) kidding, Grace.

I decided against posting a status yesterday because everyone was doing it and I'm a total free spirit ;) But, if we're being honest, my mom is giving the number one mom in the world a run for her money, and I can mathematically prove that through examples. I was a statistics TA in college, so don't question me.

First example: pie.

Julie C. makes baking look as easy as sweeping the kitchen floor. So my whole life I thought baking must be a breeze. Then I tried baking and may have ended up sobbing on my flour-coated kitchen floor. Homemade pie crust is HARDER THAN MOST THINGS. And my mom will do it while helping one of my sisters do algebra, another apply to college, all the while teaching me how this whole credit-card thing works.

If I inherit a quarter of her kitchen skills I will consider my future family lucky. My mom's chocolate chip cookies are legendary on any team that I (or any of my sisters) have ever played on. Even throughout college, she'd always mail me an entire tuppeware container of fresh-baked tollhouses and tell me to "share them with the team!" (which I usually did, if they made it out of my dorm room.) Which brings me to my second example...

Example 2: taking "soccer mom" to a whole new level.

One of the funniest part of the whole 2008 "Sarah Palin should maybe be Vice President of our country" pitch was how they branded her as a soccer mom. I would always just look at her and think not impressed. My mom was a basketball, volleyball, gymnastics, track and field, cross country, and softball mom. Three sports at the collegiate level. Driving hours (and hours and hours) to support each of her daughters from one weekend to the next for years (and years!)

Oh, and she was a cheerleading mom for one year. But we try not to mention that in public, and hide it as one of our dark family secrets. Thanks, Becky.

Example 3: everything else

This is the part in my blog where I realize perhaps arguing about how great my mom is should have been a Masters' Thesis, rather than a blog post, which is made to be read in one sitting.

So, before I make everyone else in the world jealous, I'll wrap things up. Thanks for everything, Mom! I've learned so much from you over the years, and can't thank you enough. Happy Belated Mother's Day! I love you!

the worst part of Biz Cas / a challenge to fashion bloggers

Sunday, May 5, 2013

I pretend to be a lot of things, but fashionable is not one of them. I'm all about comfort and dropping big bucks on the occasional pair of lululemon pants, but thus far I haven't been featured in any fashion blogs as an inspiration for others. And trust me, I would know. I Read. Them.Constantly.

I appreciate fashion in a weird way considering how little I show it in my wardrobe (I think Meryl's legendary monologue about cerulean in The Devil Wears Prada is where my respect for fashion stemmed.) But there's one piece of clothing I just don't understand. It's mere existence baffles me.

Pantyhose. Aka Nylons. Aka the single worse thing to ever happen to the business casual dress code since padded shoulders.

So, I challenge you fashion bloggers with this question: WHY? 

Just thinking about putting them on makes me want to put in my notice and start training to become an astronaut. Because a SPACE SUIT looks SIGNIFICANTLY MORE COMFORTABLE.

I recently had to wear some for a work trip, and have you guys ever seen the sizing charts on nylons?

Oh, that's right. They actually assume that no woman would ever be above 6 feet tall. That's not just the one off "I still live in the 1920's and have never heard that girls can now dunk" brand. It's. Every. Single. Brand. Are the makers of pantyhose not familiar in anyway with the modeling industry?

Due to these sizing limitations and being six feet and two inches of solid joy, I get to pick my flavor of discomfort. Should I get the tights made for people who weigh twice as much as I do and try to stretch them vertically, all the while knowing they'll likely fall off my waist at any second OR the ones that fit my waist but  the crotch threatens to be dangerously near to my knees and restricts my range of motion so much that I have to significantly shorten my naturally long strides when walking and hobble around like a penguin?

OR, start wearing space suits on the reg?

so. me.
Regardless of my unique height scenario, let's now operate under the false assumption that I have the option of buying a pair of "hose" that fit. What is the purpose? Considering that we now live and work in climate-controlled buildings, the "warmth" argument is out.

As far as business dress code, I'm not buying it. Do my legs look drastically more professional when covered in an arguably imperceptible sheer layer that is the same color as my skin? 

Also: let's talk quality of product. Pantyhose are like the plastic spoons of the closet. In theory, you could reuse them if you washed them but they're just going to break soon anyway and clearly weren't made to last. Is there a world record holder somewhere who once wore the same pair twice in a row without getting a run in them? 

In sum, due to the fact that wearing a three-piece suit made of exclusively pine needles would be more comfortable, the overall poor quality of the product, and the fact that the manufacturer's do not acknowledge that any woman over 6 feet tall exists, unless a astute fashion blogger can prove me otherwise, I say: let's get rid of them. Remove them from your wardrobe, burn them in the streets. Improve your work environment ever so slightly by either wearing pants or (gasp) bare legs to work. And, if presented the option, lululemon yoga pants are the answer for the most appropriate workplace attire.