Since I'm not getting my children cell phones anytime soon, I'm not really worried about the sexting craze, or the immense phone bill we'll have, or what constant communication does to a teen.
But it's coming, so I'm paying attention.
Here's a list of sexting acronyms all parents should know.
Here's a NY Times article that declares that adolecsents who text constantly aren't separating from their parents well and aren't having sufficient down time to discover their true selves.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I could not love Mimi Smartypants' blog any more than I currently do. The latest post reminds me of how inept I am at writing, and how edgy and funny she is, and also that Wheat Thins really do have ridiculous marketing. To wit:
The back of the Reduced-Fat Wheat Thins box curiously depicts a lovely-looking home office setup, all seafoam walls and beige linen organizer boxes. There is a vintage-style wall clock and a charming little green ceramic pitcher being used as a pencil cup. Also: a full cup of coffee, a clothbound book with a blurry one-word title that looks a lot like a personal journal, and a bulletin board with post-its saying "Lunch @ 11:30" and "Call Corinne." And the box of Wheat Thins, of course. So we can deduce that this person likes Wheat Thins, is probably female (based on the Pottery Barn-ness of the desk accessories), and that she doesn't work too terribly hard.
Then there is the box copy. Tagline: "My space, my snack." Below: "You don't compromise in your daily life; you shouldn't have to in your snacks. Reduced Fat Wheat Thins are the best of both worlds: Full of crunch and the amazingly delicious taste of Wheat Thins---all with 35% less fat than Original Wheat Thins Crackers"
a. Yes, there is no end punctuation in the original. Odd, especially since someone bothered to use a semicolon correctly.
b. MY SPACE, MY SNACK. Well! You go, girl! Own those low-fat crackers!
c. Could this be more blatantly chick-targeted? You've got the luxurious Real Simple-styled desk scene. You've got the me me me, my space, my snack, perfect for that whole "time to myself" marketing focus. Which strikes me as particularly ironic because the woman with that perfect-looking office---who has lunch dates and who apparently keeps a journal in longhand---probably has no trouble whatsoever with the time-to-herself thing.
d. The more I think about that first line, the more it makes me laugh. "You don't compromise in your daily life; you shouldn't have to in your snacks." Who is this take-no-prisoners, make-no-compromises snacking woman? A combination of Martha Stewart and Chuck Norris? Damn it, no! I will not compromise my snacks!
e. I have not investigated yet, but I doubt the full-fat Wheat Thins box is this conflicted. I buy the low-fat ones because they are saltier, and nothing is salty enough for me except maybe a salt lick garnished with French olives. I did not expect the box to have all this baggage about compromise and claiming one's space.
The back of the Reduced-Fat Wheat Thins box curiously depicts a lovely-looking home office setup, all seafoam walls and beige linen organizer boxes. There is a vintage-style wall clock and a charming little green ceramic pitcher being used as a pencil cup. Also: a full cup of coffee, a clothbound book with a blurry one-word title that looks a lot like a personal journal, and a bulletin board with post-its saying "Lunch @ 11:30" and "Call Corinne." And the box of Wheat Thins, of course. So we can deduce that this person likes Wheat Thins, is probably female (based on the Pottery Barn-ness of the desk accessories), and that she doesn't work too terribly hard.
Then there is the box copy. Tagline: "My space, my snack." Below: "You don't compromise in your daily life; you shouldn't have to in your snacks. Reduced Fat Wheat Thins are the best of both worlds: Full of crunch and the amazingly delicious taste of Wheat Thins---all with 35% less fat than Original Wheat Thins Crackers"
a. Yes, there is no end punctuation in the original. Odd, especially since someone bothered to use a semicolon correctly.
b. MY SPACE, MY SNACK. Well! You go, girl! Own those low-fat crackers!
c. Could this be more blatantly chick-targeted? You've got the luxurious Real Simple-styled desk scene. You've got the me me me, my space, my snack, perfect for that whole "time to myself" marketing focus. Which strikes me as particularly ironic because the woman with that perfect-looking office---who has lunch dates and who apparently keeps a journal in longhand---probably has no trouble whatsoever with the time-to-herself thing.
d. The more I think about that first line, the more it makes me laugh. "You don't compromise in your daily life; you shouldn't have to in your snacks." Who is this take-no-prisoners, make-no-compromises snacking woman? A combination of Martha Stewart and Chuck Norris? Damn it, no! I will not compromise my snacks!
e. I have not investigated yet, but I doubt the full-fat Wheat Thins box is this conflicted. I buy the low-fat ones because they are saltier, and nothing is salty enough for me except maybe a salt lick garnished with French olives. I did not expect the box to have all this baggage about compromise and claiming one's space.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
LOST Season Finale - with spoilers
From "Sister Carrie", whose comments are always amazing and literary (and have a whiff of the insider about them) on Whitney Matheson's LOST discussions, Jacob's pronouncements:
To both Sawyer and Locke: I’m sorry this happened.
To both Kate and Sun/Jin: You’re NOT going to steal anymore, are you?; DON’T take your “special love” for granted.
To Sayid: I’m lost and need directions.
To Jack: I guess it just needed a push and by “it” I mean “you, Jack”!
To Hurley: You’re blessed and not cursed.
To mankind: It’s your choice.
Good Lord, between this and the Hurricanes and the Cruel Month of May, my heart can't take it.
To both Sawyer and Locke: I’m sorry this happened.
To both Kate and Sun/Jin: You’re NOT going to steal anymore, are you?; DON’T take your “special love” for granted.
To Sayid: I’m lost and need directions.
To Jack: I guess it just needed a push and by “it” I mean “you, Jack”!
To Hurley: You’re blessed and not cursed.
To mankind: It’s your choice.
Good Lord, between this and the Hurricanes and the Cruel Month of May, my heart can't take it.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Downtown Day
I recently spent a whole day in downtown Raleigh. Now, I used to LIVE in downtown Raleigh, but that was before it was really kind of nice and metropolitan, as it is now.
My friend and I rode the R Line - a pleasant, cool, free, hybrid bus ride. This after we took in a Symphony concert that was SRO. Believe it! Yes, most of the patrons were either a. ancient or b. homeschooled...still!
And finally, the day ended with a beer at an outdoor bar with a bunch of very stylish 20 and 30ish folk...who ARE they, and why are they living in my town so happily?
Pretty fun how the burg is coming on. Oh, and GO CANES!
Friday, May 08, 2009
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
My daughter, it seems, has finally hit the 5th grade wall. Her friends are emailing mean things to one another, and about their teacher, whom she loves. Her visit to the infamous Poe Center to learn about OUR CHANGING BODIES is imminent. Her day of reckoning with soccer grows ever closer as she must decide to get serious or play for fun a little longer. Add to that her very serious illness last week, and having to take giant horse pills for 14 days, and an upcoming piano recital and graduation ceremony, and her parents' busy work lives, and it's just a little much.
I feel for her...but I also love her unique take on things and trust her strength to carry her through this challenging season. Her brain works a little differently than mine, perhaps more like my husband's. She has found solace at the piano keyboard, and with her books (and more books) . But nothing soothes her more than hours and hours of bouncing a playground ball back and forth on our paved sidewalk and driveway.
She has always been a bit repetitive and focused in her play. Used to be, she would ride the zip line for hours (oooo the calluses!). Then, she blew out three scooters in a row on the path now used for ball-bouncing (the white scrapes on the concrete from her turns are still there). The playground ball that Santa brought exploded in protest after the 800,000th bounce, so Grandma graciously bought a new one during a visit. And the sound again echoes off of our brick house, over and over again.
I think she thinks, and sings, and imagines, and maybe even goes blank a bit when she's bouncing. Brother is not allowed to play with her during this time, although if a neighbor is over with him, she seems to just go on with her thing. Truly, she will do this for hours at a time....it is pure play but maybe the best kind of mental break and meditation.
I hope she can find something similar to relax her mind for years to come. The excitement and scariness of middle school is upon us...and she'll need an outlet. Perhaps I should spring for the value pack of balls.
I feel for her...but I also love her unique take on things and trust her strength to carry her through this challenging season. Her brain works a little differently than mine, perhaps more like my husband's. She has found solace at the piano keyboard, and with her books (and more books) . But nothing soothes her more than hours and hours of bouncing a playground ball back and forth on our paved sidewalk and driveway.
She has always been a bit repetitive and focused in her play. Used to be, she would ride the zip line for hours (oooo the calluses!). Then, she blew out three scooters in a row on the path now used for ball-bouncing (the white scrapes on the concrete from her turns are still there). The playground ball that Santa brought exploded in protest after the 800,000th bounce, so Grandma graciously bought a new one during a visit. And the sound again echoes off of our brick house, over and over again.
I think she thinks, and sings, and imagines, and maybe even goes blank a bit when she's bouncing. Brother is not allowed to play with her during this time, although if a neighbor is over with him, she seems to just go on with her thing. Truly, she will do this for hours at a time....it is pure play but maybe the best kind of mental break and meditation.
I hope she can find something similar to relax her mind for years to come. The excitement and scariness of middle school is upon us...and she'll need an outlet. Perhaps I should spring for the value pack of balls.
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