Just Stuff
This is one of my random posts about things that don’t warrant a full post. Let’s call it the Postlette post.
Solutions to She Doesn’t Fit
Thanks for all the suggestions about how to handle Zizi-the-pretzel and the Orbit. I didn’t know that snowsuits and infant seats don’t go together.
The good news is that a) I bought a Bundleme: . That is so much easier than the snowsuit. I’ve just got to remember to have a blanket handy to cover her as I take her out of the seat and walk her into school.
and b) The Orbit people have said that they are going to send us a longer harness strap that should also help. It seems we are not the only easterners who have had this problem. I guess since they are a California company, they didn’t anticipate the need to have baby and cold weather gear together in the car seat.
I still plan to investigate moving her to a convertible car seat, as she is no longer a little teeny.
Screaming Something
So last night AdoringHusband and I were working together on some homework from our couples’ therapist. I have no idea how we got to the topic, but he said something to me about how some kid was acting like a screaming meanie.
I’m like, “you must mean ‘screaming neemie.’”
He’s like, “no, I mean ‘screaming meanie!’”
“But I always thought it was ‘screaming neemie.’”
“What the hell is a ‘neemie?’”
It was then that I had one of those moments. You know the moments when you realize that for your entire life you’ve had something decidedly wrong. Like when I was in 4th grade and told the boy not to hit me on my “chooch,” not realizing that my family had made up that word to describe the butt and general female part region. I honestly thought that “chooch” was a word that everyone used. Of course I then realized that I’ve never heard anyone but my family use the word. I was mortified.
In that moment, it suddenly dawned on me that I had no idea what a “neemie” was. I just thought it was one of those stupid expressions that people said. And here was dear AdoringHusband letting me know that I had been wrong about this for 44 years.
Yet something didn’t sit right. “Screaming meanie” didn’t sound correct. A kid running around yelling and being a brat wasn’t being a “meanie.” Yes, I realized that he wasn’t a “neemie” either, whatever that is, but something felt off here.
We debated this for a few minutes and then turned to our favorite arbiter: Google. Though there were some references to “Screaming Meanie” (a band), and no references to “Screaming Neemie” (pout), we saw something else…something that proved we were both wrong. The expression is actually “Screaming Meemee.”
The best I can come up with about the origin of this phrase is that in 1965 (one year after the introduction of the Easy Bake Oven) a toy company came up with the Screaming Mee Mee rifle. Did it scream? I don’t know. Why was it named that? I haven’t a clue. All I do know is that it wasn’t a “neemie” or a “meanie” that was screaming. And we both learned something…though AdoringHusband is still suspect.
My Fakes
I forgot to mention that when I was in China, I did a lot of shopping. From the Pearl Market to the Silk Market, I was having a blast. I didn’t like the bartering that one had to do in order to come up with a price (I am a terrible negotiator), but the things I bought were excellent. AdoringHusband got silk pajamas and a robe. I got some beautiful pearls (not as beautiful as the ones he presented me with last month during our thanks-for-not-divorcing-me-during-my-unemployment dinner), necklaces, earrings, and fun stuff for Zara. But my true prize were my fake designer purses.
I’m one of those style challenged women who generally has one purse. I don’t change my purse to match my outfit unless I am going out somewhere. It seems too much of a hassle to repack a purse again and again. So I’ve never gotten into the purse craze. Yet one of the women at one of our dinners had a gorgeous bag that she said she got for a song and the Silk Market. I was intrigued.
I left the Silk floor and ventured to the purse/bag/luggage area. Five million Chinese vendors called to me all at once. I was disoriented. That’s when I was caught.
The nearest vendor had some cool bags. One of the saleswomen set on me like white on rice.
“What designer you like?” she asked me. I couldn’t even think of someone to answer.
“Kate Spade,” I finally said.
“Oh, you like Kate Spade? We have Kate Spade.”
But the bag she showed me was a horrible striped concoction that I wouldn’t been seen carrying anywhere but the beach.
She tried again. “How about Coach?”
Now I admit that I have a love/hate relationship with Coach. Some bags I adore and others I can’t stand. I think what I don’t like are the bags with the Coach logo all over them. She showed me a few like that. I wasn’t feeling it.
Then she said the words that made my ears perk up. “What about Prada?”
“Yes, Prada…” I said eagerly like Golum discussing “his Precious.”
And we were off to the races. Here are my purchases:
The Prada
Dolce & Gabbana
The Mini Coach Bag (yeah, I know what I said about logos)
And my other favorite besides the Prada, The Jimmy Choo
I also got a Fendi duffel suitcase that I needed to get most of my China loot back home. I probably didn’t barter as well as I could have, but considering the Jimmy Choo goes for $1600, I think I did all right. These were some well made fakes.
The Prada is currently my favorite companion. And truthfully, I’m ready to go back to smoggy China just to get some more cool bags. Now I’m hooked!
Sexy Cotton Pads
Right before Thanksgiving I was searching for cane syrup that I needed for my Bourbon Sweet Potatoes (and yes I could have substituted corn syrup, but that would never do!). I went to about 8 different grocery stores until I remembered that there was a Wegmans nearby. Now I don’t know how many of you have Wegmans in your area, but let me tell you, that store is a gourmet’s wet dream.
I did find my cane sugar and a bunch of other goodies, so I wandered around a picked up a few more needed items. One of the things I bought there were cotton pads…you know those round quilted pads you use to remove eye makeup. It wasn’t until I got back home that I got around to looking at the label on the cotton pads. It reads:
Round Cosmetic Pads for the Adventurous. Exotic, Sensuous, Free Spirited Woman.
Now as I am sitting on the throne reading this, I am wondering to myself, did I buy cotton pads or a vibrator? Good lord! What a description!! Part of me is curious as to whether there is some obscure sexual practice that I should be engaging in using this cotton pads.
Did I mention that they were made in France by Astri, The Passion of Cotton.
I must be missing something here…
OK, that’s all the Postlettes that I have for today. I’ve got to go pick up the Yummy.
Last thing, I want to thank my visitors who are commenting on my Comparative Pain post. It was a tough post to write (ack! Liana hates being vulnerable), but it is good to know that people understood what I was trying to say.
Goodnight!
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First of all, snowsuits! That is a foreign concept here in the south.
I think a hooded sweatshirt is the most that our Little Miss has worn so far this winter.
Secondly, I love love the bags! The Jimmy Choo is my favorite. Great fakes.
Thirdly, LOL about the cotton pads. Hmm!!
I think it’s a “screaming banshee” that you’re thinking of. It’s an Irish thing (I think)–a female spirit that apparently screams. Hallmark even makes a holiday greeting cards with screeming banshees: http://www.hallmark.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/category4%7C10001%7C10051%7C127053%7C-102001;11443;127053%7Cproducts
I know about banshees, but for some reason I think I do remember my mother saying “screaming neemie” (or ‘meemee’). We were called banshees at other times.