OK, it’s officially fall now so I feel like I can actually write about the pumpkin spice thing. Which, for the record, I completely agree that not everything on the planet HAS to be pumpkin spiced.

Yes, I’m aware not all of these products are real- but can you call all of them out with complete 100% certainty? Yeah, me neither.

But…. at the same time, oh my heavens, I want to try at least some of that stuff. Kind of. Maybe it’s a sign of my level of conformity… when September hits, I want to snuggle in an afghan and consume pumpkin spice and wearing leggings. While I do technically have a pair of boots that I technically could wear with those leggings, I have not bought a vest to complete the ensemble.

Maybe if it was a Han Solo vest. MAYBE.

So Rick and I went grocery shopping after an early dinner (no, we’re not 70, we just don’t want to deal with crowds when we go out), and as soon as we headed in the doors, Rick started laughing.

I peeked around his shoulder and saw what can only be described as a supermarket altar to all things Pumpkin Spice. “They saw you coming.”

Absentmindedly I told him to shut it as I began to scour the shelves for that which I could have (Special K, or so I thought, more on this later) versus the things I oh most certainly could not even think of having (the 14 inch pumpkin pie). The plethora of pleasantly scented pumpkin products pounded against my nasal passages, promising pumpkin passion, held at bay lo these many months of spring and summer, would soon be sated.

Pumpkin rolls and pies and cookies (with chocolate chips.. wtf does that and why are they corrupting the essence of the pumpkiny goodness?) Pop Tarts and muffins and donuts and everything edible in between you could possibly imagine and then some.

Rick pointed out pumpkin pancake/waffle batter. I saw 140 calories for two pancakes and bought it.

Special K had they little crispy pastry thing next to the Pop Tarts. 100 calories?! Into the cart they went.

Then I started looking at cereals.

Rick: “They have cheerios.”

Me: “Shut up, that’s not food.” He should so know better than to interrupt the internal Pumpkin Spice monologue and label reading.

Frosted Mini Wheats- oh temptation… I used to love these as a kid.. and as an older kid that didn’t feel like using the microwave. Holy chao, there’s Pumpkin Spice Frosted Flakes… omg I bet those are amazing. Ah here we go.. good old reliable Special K.

/read label

Uh.. these are higher calorie than the mini wheats… wait, are the amounts comparable?

/scans mini wheat label

8 nuggets? WTF counts as a damn nugget? Is it less or more than 3/4 a cup?

Against my will, the box of Frosted Flakes fell into my hands.. 3/4, less calories than Special K.. WTH.. you know what, screw it. They’re grrrreaaaaat!

And that was it.. everything I got was about 200 calories a serving and won’t break the caloric bank. I’m a happy girl. Just three items, all intended for eating, like people do from time to time.

Cause friends, it’s all about moderation. Pumpkin is a beautiful thing, it doesn’t deserve to be this-

Or this-

And maybe most especially not this-

We gotta slow down, people, before these next few items become actual products in the stores-

And if those things are real, could y’all do me like a personal favor and NEVER tell me? I’m not sure I want to live in that world.

Edit- And today, what do I find out in the world but this-

Seriously, people. Calm. Down.

This one’s been brewing for awhile… came to mind again after I heard Jim Parsons is callin it quits.

Mayim Bialik– Going to keep this part short, since I’ve ranted about her before and I’d hate to bore folk. Bottom line for me is always this- if I’m so familiar with the fact that an actor is a twit/morally reprehensible/just a shite person in general and knowing that pulls me out of the character, I just plain don’t watch them anymore. See Tom Cruise, Tom Hardy, Mel Gibson, Bill Cosby, Amy Schumer, Lena Dunham.

Character development– and I already hear people saying, but Ari, look at all the changes to these people from season one?! Oh, yes, there are changes… but they are changes to make the characters more appealing to a broader audience, not necessary changes that are true to the character. Cases in point-

Bernadette– She began as a slightly humorless, cutesy, and maybe a little ditzy waitress. Then, as she and Howard continue dating and getting more serious, she develops razor sharp wit that keeps Howard on his toes at all times, before finally morphing into a bellow for bellow replica of Howard’s mother. And that’s not even the most egregious transformation. To me, one of the lowest points of the show was when Howard and Bernadette sat down to seriously discuss their feelings on having kids, with Bernadette knowing her own mind absolutely. Fast forward a couple seasons, and guess who magically changed their mind?

Raj– Starts out, he can’t talk to women, except when he drinks. Until one day, he just magically can. Bullshit. More on Raj later, his arc ties into a general theme.

Amy– OK, go back and watch the first episode with Amy, then watch the Shamie episode, then watch anything from the past two years. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Now, how the everliving fuck did we get from asexual clinical ice queen of the put down to this.. hormonal hose beast who embraces princess culture, of all things? Are you fucking kidding me? But you know, I bet she polls better with general audiences now, and we all know that’s what’s most important.

Sheldon– I’ve saved the best/worst for last. Sheldons don’t change like we’ve seen Sheldon change over the seasons without 1) a desire to change, 2) lots of therapy and mindfulness, and 3) possible traumatic brain injury. Again, we had an asexual geek character who was perfectly happy with the way he conformed his environment to suit him. Someone with absolutely no desire to be ‘normal’ and lamented his warm family upbringing and longed for Leonard’s more clinical experimental version of childhood. Sheldon had no interest in settling down into marriage and raising kids. Sheldon wanted to play Star Wars anything with his friends all weekend without interruptions, probably while screwing them out of any phat lewts.

It used to be a show for geeks– The reason I really used to love this show is that it was made for people who are unabashedly enthusiastic about aspects of pop culture we know other people see as lame or pointless. This show used to be about the little family these geeks built in which they cared for and accepted one another for who they were. Period. End of list. You didn’t have Leonard convincing Sheldon that he needed to date some nice girl and settle down or Raj telling Howard he needed to find his father and settle his daddy issues. And yes, their family had boundaries- Howard was told when he was being creepy, Sheldon was told when he’d pushed the lines too far on thinking he was the center of the universe. There were jokes and diatribes about Magic -I mean, the Mystical Warlords of Ka’a- and Settlers of Catan (I need wood!) that have been heard in my own Den of Geek more times than I can count. The discussion and edification around comic lore.. oh yeah, that’s real, and so are the arguments over who’d win in a fight or wouldn’t it be really cool if they’d cast X person and oh. my. god. Aquaman sucks!

I get these people. I am these people. I have my own Howards and Sheldons and Leonards, and I love them and accept them for who they are.

What did I spend all this time and words to drive home?

This show and the characters, as they were created, was not meant to appeal to the broadest possible audience. It changed to become that, and in doing so, it nullifies the message of acceptance for geeks, the asexual, the childfree. It says that the earnest guy who can’t keep a girl is a loser who should be afraid he’s going to die alone, and that even the guy who has no interest in finding a romantic relationship is suddenly going to develop one, like a pesky mutated appendage.

Call it geek culture appropriation. Call it nerd shaming. Call it Emmy award winning comedy of the highest caliber.

I don’t give a damn, I will continue to call it crap. Particularly disappointing crap that wants to break it’s arm patting itself on the back for showing women with careers in science while warping its original characters into grotesque caricatures of themselves that should be killed with fire.

My last hope is that they’ll pull a Newhart in the finale, with Sheldon waking up to realize it was all a bad dream.

I made the usual mistake of deciding today was watch a documentary day. The one I picked was about a guy who decided to go speak on a university campus about why we need to reinforce traditional (read pro straight marriage) values.

Clearly, there was a slant. But after thirty minutes of smash cuts between the earnest kids who think you ‘win’ by screaming profanity over someone else, the Room 101 scene from 1984, and various celebrities apologizing for stupid shit they’ve said, I really couldn’t stand to listen anymore.

Those kids truly thought they were being champions of free speech. They weren’t. If they truly embraced the concept, they’d be protecting the right of anyone to be heard, no matter how objectionable they found it. You want to protest it? Fantastic.. how about doing so in a constructive way? Set up outside the venue and assemble peacefully to talk about why you feel you’re living your best truth and being your best self with people who genuinely want to have a conversation.

When you scream to drown someone out, you rob them of their voice.

“I wholly disapprove of what you say—and will defend to the death your right to say it.”

I will try very hard to apply the Voltairean principle, as well as exercise my Carlinean right.

“The FCC, the Federal Communications Commission, decided all by itself that radio and television were the only two parts of American life not protected by the free speech provisions of the first amendment to the Constitution. I’d like to repeat that, because it sounds… vaguely important! The FCC—an appointed body, not elected, answerable only to the president—decided on its own that radio and television were the only two parts of American life not protected by the first amendment to the Constitution. Why did they decide that? Because they got a letter from a minister in Mississippi! A Reverend Donald Wildman in Mississippi heard something on the radio that he didn’t like. Well, Reverend, did anyone ever tell you there are two KNOBS on the radio? Two. Knobs. On the radio. Of course, I’m sure the reverend isn’t that comfortable with anything that has two knobs on it… But hey, reverend, there are two knobs on the radio! One of them turns the radio OFF, and the other one [slaps his head] CHANGES THE STATION! Imagine that, reverend, you can actually change the station! It’s called freedom of choice, and it’s one of the principles this country was founded upon. Look it up in the library, reverend, if you have any of them left when you’ve finished burning all the books.”

It’s an overcast, slightly gloomy day here, so I did what I typically do and drug Rick off to the movies for a little escapism. We went to see Christopher Robin, and please, do not think for an instant that that wonderful, original movie inspired this rant. It was warm, well written, and filled with joy and thoughtfulness, Ewan McGregor earnestness wrapped in a Pooh bear, and I recommend it highly.

No, what’s inspiring this rant are all the previews and pre-show material that came before Christopher Robin. Live action Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast (which I purposefully avoided)- vapid, overly glittery reductions of classics that finally drove me to taking out my book and reading in disgust. Honestly, the straight to video Disney sequels struck me as less of an evil cash grab than this.. this.. glorification of princess culture to a new generation… feh!

And then.. the true evil arrived. Benadryl Cucamonga is dead to me, Dr. Strange and Sherlock notwithstanding. He has committed the foulest evil since Jim Carey put on the Grinch suit and gave us back the measels.

He’s voicing the new Grinch movie. A movie that explains the Grinch.

Fuck this, fuck off, fuck no.

There is only one Grinch on celluloid, and it was created by Chuck Jones. Anything else is a complete waste of time. We need a two hour movie about the Grinch’s motivations like we need three fucking Hobbit movies.

OH RIGHT THEY DID THAT ANYWAY TOO THE FUCKING GREEDY BITCHES.

/cough Where was I?

As I pointed out in another conversation, my options for coping are somewhat limited as a consumer. I can refuse to consume it, and I can speak and write of it scathingly.

Welcome to scathing. /rude Benadryl Cucamonga /rude estate of Seuss

Won’t someone please think of the children and just say no?

OK, I’m going to say this knowing that folks aren’t going to necessarily see eye to eye with me here. Bear with me, don’t unfriend/unfollow me just yet, please…

I hate clothes shopping. I hate it. Like a lot a lot.

/waits for the torches and pitchforks

If you go to the store, you’re stuck with the ‘color of the season’ that doesn’t match anything you already own. Then you’re trying stuff on with overly chipper sales people trying to make it okay that you somehow got fatter than you were willing to admit to so did you need that in another one or two sizes up? And the lighting.. if you look in the three way mirror, you may actually become actively suicidal.

OK, you say, go online. Yeah, it’s an option with tons to choose from, except you don’t know what the quality you’ll be getting is like, and researching to see if something is ethically sourced is also kind of a problem. Sure, it’s cheap, but you’re playing fashion roulette.. was it made by a six year old Indonesian kid and will it fall apart after the first wash or the third?

Either way, if you’re a girl of a certain proportion, you’re going to be dealing with the evillest thing imaginable. For I-have-to-appear-in-grown-up-clothes-for-work attire, I prefer the simple button down in a solid color of some appropriate weight fabric for the season. And, to be blunt, the last thing I need is something making me look like I may be in danger of falling forward should I faint.

So why in the HELL does every plus size button down shirt put pockets on the chest?! You’re not going to distract from the fact that I have cleavage, and I’d rather not accentuate it further, thank you so very much. It’s certainly not placed there for utility, they are too small to hold a business card, let alone anything I actually NEED to carry in that circumstance.

And once the designers stop that, can we talk about the enforced 3 quarter sleeves?

So much hate.

So.. I have some vices.

One of them that could go either way (vice or virtue) is that I truly believe in the customer service experience. Part of that means that I have to accept the responsibility of providing coaching for a bad experience… and oh, I did.

Now hear me the right way- I’m not saying I expect every day to be like walking down Disneyland’s Main Street with lots and lots of sunshine blown up my ass- and never, ever should one cross over into the realm of being disingenuous.

But there’s a middle ground… where I’m a person trying to get something done, and you’re a person trying to help me out and take a little pride in what you do. Be human, be genuine, and yeah, sometimes that means what you have to say just sucks. But dumping bucket after bucket of crap on my head is not going to improve my frame of mind.

Today’s debacle-

My problem statement as I entered into the chat- I’m not happy that you are choosing to turn international service on when I made a conscious decision to turn it off and therefore putting the onus on me as to how I use my service. How is this creating a good customer experience?

What I expected to hear- Suck it up, that’s the way it is.

What I actually got- I’m going to copy and paste from the email you already read that ticked you off, then spout random crap, then ignore anything you’re asking me to do. It’ll be fun.

Spoiler alert- It wasn’t fun.

Read on if you dare, McDuff!

___________________________________

Well, this one probably won’t be popular, belt in.

I just saw that Roseanne Barr is super pissed about all the support James Gunn is getting after his firing from Disney. Now, to be clear, I give Roseanne a lot of leeway for the simple reason that she’s mentally ill and clearly one of her folks should be taking away her damn cell phone… but even I can’t shrug off the Valerie Jarrett tweets that got her fired. Yes, she was fired, and she should have been fired. She NEEDED to be fired.

Why did Roseanne need to be fired?

I’m so glad you asked, Curious Reader. She needed to be fired because her vitriol was directed out at a person who could be hurt from it. Because, even though she’s brushed up against the concept of consequences for shooting her mouth off in a hurtful, insulting TO INDIVIDUAL PEOPLE fashion, she never bothered to actually understand that there are other people in the world who have feelings.

That’s the stupid part about all this. If Roseanne (and you know, a bunch of other people that suffer from the same delusion that only their feelings matter) had a heart to heart with Mister Rogers and tried like, I dunno, listening, we could get back to having new seasons of a great show. But no.

Now what does this have to do with James Gunn?

Excellent question!

1. Mr. Gunn’s tweets were nearly ten years ago.
2. Mr. Gunn had already recognized his tweets were in bad taste, and thus, apologized for them. (And I never saw a quote that said “meds made me do it”.)
3. Mr. Gunn’s tweets aren’t part of a pedophile bonding group.
4. Mr. Gunn’s tweets, while not exactly hysterically funny, were still meant to provoke a humorous/look at how edgy I am kind of reaction.

And, well, if you’re a three year old and he hurt you feelings by reminding you you don’t pee very hard… I’m not even sure a three year old would be offended. You said pee, they are giggling.

To me, it’s really sad that Disney can’t recognize the difference between someone out to hurt and someone who’s just painfully unfunny. Now Guardians (a series about a bunch of assholes finding meaning and how not to be a bunch of assholes) is kinda doomed, and that’s really too bad.

Some of you have been following my recent adventures in home improvement and the creation of my quote outdoor living space unquote. So far, that has consisted of putting up durable shade, buying nicer furniture for outside than I have inside, putting down a rug, and planting happy things that I can manage to keep alive (petunias, tufts of purpley grass, cthulu plant that comes in at night, and miniature roses).

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to order certain strains of mini roses (purple and interestingly stripey versions for me), but you have to catch little tiny mini bareroot rose bushes from select nurseries at the right time of year. With the joys of Albuquerque spring weather, I had steeled myself to accept a 50% loss of my new roses as a matter of sleety, snowy course.

**Update- We finally had an idea I wish we’d had months and months ago! Along the far side of the front yard, we have this pretty little bricked in flowerbed. I tried to grow stuff in it a couple times, and rabbits and sun pretty much took care of THAT.

This time, we had all the old sand dug out, put in soil, and planted chocolate mint.

MINT, you bunny bastards.. chew on that, go ahead!

The mintlings are getting a lot of TLC, and if the stuff we had to chainsaw out of the courtyard is any indication, it should be a nice, pretty little pile of shrubbery in no time. Bunny deterring shrubbery. /cross fingers

With my luck, the little shits will learn how to make juleps and mojitos and open a club.