Financial Times, 12/3/09

Zaida Hernández sits on a small black leatherette sofa with her friend Ana in Mexico City’s King’s Pub. The lights are low, the music is loud and the special offer tonight is pizza and frozen mojitos, served in a wide-rimmed martini glass.

But Ms Hernández, a round-faced design student, is not drinking mojitos. She is drinking Duff Beer, the preferred beverage of Homer Simpson.

“We were looking for something different,” she says, taking a closer look at the label, which is practically the same as the design on the cans in the cartoon. “When someone offers you Duff, I guess you just have to try it.”

Read more…

Babie’s Names- Louise Nicholson.

Adelia, Adelina, Amarinda, Amorette, Andrina, Angharad, Ingaret, Flavia, Maxime, Vita, Wallis,

Aiken, Amery, Aneurin, Barnum, Brindley, Brutus, Caradoc, Colwyn, Duff, Forbes, Haddon, Hans, Hedley, Janus, Jocelin, Jolyon, Kelvin, Lambert, Melvin, Ogden, Painton, Stanhope, Thornton, Wystan.

Thoughts? Opinions?

Couldn't this poster have read: Based on the book by Roald Dahl?

Fantastic Mr. Fox is the second movie I’ve seen recently that’s based on a children’s book, the other being Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are…. Just like Jonze, Wes Anderson (the director) took the source material and made it very much his own. This has all the eccentricities of a typical Anderson movie like the camera work, the ‘look’ and the yesteryear soundtrack. If you like his movies, you’ll probably like this one. I did. If you hate his movies, well… Give this one a try anyway.

Wes with his stop motion actors...

I have to compare this a little to a couple of other movies that I have reviewed here; the aforementioned Where The Wild Things Are and Men Who Stare At Goats. Unlike Wild Things, this movie was very upbeat and was much more fun than that one. And unlike the Goat movie (which also starred George Clooney ) this was very fast paced besides just being ‘quirky’.

VERY fast paced...

The story moved along very rapidly with lots of twists and turns. Anderson made sure that even in the moments where characters were just talking, there was still a lot going on ( I enjoyed Ash’s preoccupation with the ‘White Cape’ who is never really talked about by name. You just see the White Cape posters, the comics, etc… I also loved the kid badger in the skeleton costume).

I’m sure upon a 2nd viewing that I will see things that I did not catch the first time (and I think I caught a lot). Like all of Anderson’s movies, careful attention is paid to each character… Their mannerisms, clothes, their surroundings…. Every character, no matter how minor,  seems to have a back story.

The source material...

The movie makes use of traditional stop motion animation and is layered with the trademark Wes Anderson detailing. I don’t think the CGI route would have fit the director’s quirky style half as well as the stop motion method does.  There is real art in the puppet and prop builders and there is just something that I have always found cool about this style of animation. Maybe it reminds me of the old Rudolph Christmas cartoon, I don’t know, but I like it.

Anderson with the 'human puppet' cast...

The story itself is about a fox (the Fantastic Mr. Fox) voiced by George Clooney.Mr. Fox is basically  a chicken thieving con artist, but promises his lady love (voiced by Meryl Streep) that he’ll get a legitimate line of work when she reveals that she is pregnant. So he becomes a newspaper columnist.

Mr. Fox with the Missus...

Not happy with his lot in life (living in a hole), he moves his family into a very luxurious tree that has a few drawbacks to it. For one, it’s overlooking the farms of some of the most diabolical farmers in the entire world.

Kylie...

He’s only satisfied for a short time, before he begins plotting to raid the farms in one last big heist with aid first from his friend Kylie (a spacey opossum played by Wallace Wolodarsky), and Kristofferson (Mr. Fox’s gifted nephew…).

Kristofferson and Ash...

Of course this upsets the farmers… Not only that, but it disrupts his happy home life. He’s lying to his wife about the heist and his son Ash (voiced by Anderson regular Jason Schwartzman) feels inferior to Kristofferson, especially when Mr Fox enlists him into the heist scheme. And all of this snowballs into a mass of complications that encapsulates the entire animal community. I won’t give away any more. It’s worth finding out for yourself.

Murray with his Badger counterpart.

There were plenty of ‘cameo’ parts by Anderson regulars such as Big Bad Bill Murray (as Badger, Mr. fox’s lawyer),  Owen Wilson (as Coach Skip who relates the athletic exploits of Mr. Fox to his son) and of course Willem Dafoe (as the villainous Rat, a scoundrel from the Fox family’s past). Dafoe has had some pretty diverse roles in his career.

Someone with too much time on their hands combined this with another Dafoe movie of late that might give you a chuckle or two. That’s Dafoe’s voice at the end…

Brian Cox and Wes Anderson also add voice work and I was also VERY happy to see that the lovely Karen ‘Duff’ Duffy (of MTV VJ fame) voiced the character of Linda Otter. I always loved her. I hear she’s had some up and downs with her health lately.

The lovely Duff.... MTV VJ ICON!

Anyway… It’s an all ages movie. They don’t curse, but they do say ‘cuss’ a lot, which was pretty funny. It was actually one of the more entertaining ‘family’ movies that I’ve seen and would compare this in quality to older ‘family’ films such as Time Bandits and The Dark Crystal. Maybe not quite as good and resounding as those 2, but this one’s right up there. 4 of 5 Whatevers. A great effort!

I think this looks a bit strange, because Jeremy’s tan, and Hilary’s umm… let’s stick with WEIRD colored skin LOL!

Dear guys all over the world, I have something to tell you.

Say, you’re in a bar and you spot a nice-looking girl sitting at a table with her female friend. They’re chatting lively and enjoying their conversation, both oblivious to everyone around them. You don’t do anything to catch her attention.

Suddenly, the girl you had your eye on excuses herself and goes to the bathroom. Her friend nods and is left alone, minding her business while waiting for her friend to return. Then you decide to make your move – you stalk across the floor, directly towards the friend, introduce yourself to her, make polite conversation. Just so she begins to think that you may be interested in her. Then you pop the question. “So, would you mind telling me… is your friend single?”

BAM.

I can honestly tell you that in most cases, it won’t get you anywhere, unless that particular friend you dared to approach is extremely confident. If you’re interested in someone, please, take a chance and introduce yourself to the person you’re truly interested in. And no, no woman appreciates being considered as the D.U.F.F.

So please, don’t do it.

Just a thought.

Sincerely,

Maria, your friendly neighborhood peoplewatcher.

Posted by Duff

I am so, so glad that I wrote this down when it was happening.

Today’s Atticus tugs my hair, reaches for my food, has twice as much chick fuzz as he did three months ago. Once a snuggler, now a champagne cork –there is no going back, except to that stolen August moment I’m so lucky to have.

Happy Thanksgiving, Buddy Bear.

21 de noviembre de 2009

Posted by Duff

I posted Part 1 about 16 months ago.  I just went back and read it because lately, this working mom has had a helluva time getting out of the house and to work on time, as have a lot of parents I know.

Here’s an understatement: It’s a little harder with two. Not impossible (even when it feels that way), just with new variables. 

Challenge: 2 kids with different bedtime/wake up schedules. Anyone have a baby who rises with the proverbial rooster and a toddler or preschooler who fights bedtime and is a morning grizzly bear? Our kids should go bowling together.

Solution: Staggered schedules are a blessing; I don’t have to meet two sets of immediate needs. Atticus doesn’t mind if I fold laundry, drink coffee, or scarf cereal while we wait for the sun, as long as he can see and hear me. If your infant is Dervish-like, however, wakes up before you’ve attended to yourself, and is a morning clinger, I suggest the Bjorn. And coffee at the office.

If you’ve got a mobile baby, please remind me how this differs and you make it work.

Challenge: Getting a night owl out of bed during the morning rush. I’m not a morning person either, so I sympathize with my girl, but she definitely makes me work for it.

Solution: The Dervish’s reveille begins 20 minutes before I need her to get up, with Atticus in tow, since she won’t be crabby to him (yet).  I’m in and out of her room three times – initial wakeup (then I get dressed), 2nd wakeup (I prep her breakfast), final wakeup (I put one of her favorite shows on TV and she pounds wood). You’ll have to customize your routine to your Dervish, of course.

Challenge: Shuttling through the stations. By stations, I mean bathroom, breakfast, boutique, beauty salon, bon voyage.

Solution: Be cheerful, upbeat, and creative. Magic Garden-esque is most effective, but I suck at that, so I aim for not losing my cool (if I lose it, The Dervish cements herself to the moment) and showing more enthusiasm than I think appropriate for brushing teeth, but which seems to get The Dervish on board. Also, if your kid is old enough to choose, and you can accomodate, offer two choices (white socks or striped socks? banana or raspberries?)

Challenge: Physically getting out the door.  Common mistake: underestimating how much time this can take, even on a good day.

Solution: Have shoes and coats by the door in advance. Give yourself at least 15 minutes more than you think you’ll need (more on bad weather days) until you’ve tested your routine.  Load as much as you can into the car before venturing outside with the kiddos. Keep your cell phone in your pocket, hide house/car keys outside. You or your Dervish could lock you all out of house or car (or worse yet, put a locked door between you) in the mad rush to make an early meeting.

…

Some days will seem easy enough that you may wonder why other days were so tough. Other days, it will have to be enough to revel in the satisfaction of having accomplished more before 8am than some people do all day.

And for that, you should consider yourself successful.

Every child and every situation is different.  I’m pretty sure you can do everything I do and make these for your colleagues before heading out the door, so please share your challenges and solutions for our readers and we’ll all get to work on time, with fuse to spare.

So close but so far. Republic of Ireland finished empty handed an autumn of so much hope and promise, during which time displayed spirited performances against both the current world champion and world cup finalist France. But for all Ireland’s highs in the games facing the Italians and Domenech’s side, the sense of  failure is even more acute and frustrating for Trapattoni’s men. In football and in life there is a very fine line between succeeding and not. And the devil is in the detail.

[ It happened in just 12 seconds, on the 17th of November '93... It was 1-1 in Paris, in the last minute of the qualifiers for US World Cup, with France needing just that draw. But from Ginola's boot to Kostadinov's shot the history was rewriten: 2-1 for Bulgaria, who ended up playing a World Cup semifinal against Italy in United States. Please notice that the visitors wore white shirts and green shorts, as was Ireland's choice on wednesday. So what stopped than Ireland from making it 2-1 even in the 120th minute? ] 

Against Italy, on Croke Park, Ireland was so close to a famous victory yet Gilardino cancelled in the dying moments Sean St. Ledger’s 87th minute strike. The sense of a lost opportunity beamed in the otherwise smiling Irish eyes. A few days later, in what Ireland imagined to be a final push for the first place and automatic qualification if that St. Ledger goal would have been the last in the top of the table game in Dublin, Montenegro frustrated the Croke Park faithful even further: 0-0. It was Ireland’s third consecutive home draw in World Cup qualifiers and another build up to that sense of near miss. In other words, even if Italy would have failed to beat Cyprus in the peninsula, Ireland wouldn’t have made it to South Africa due to its draw against the ex-Yugoslav minnows…

What not many envisaged at the start of the campaign, was though achieved. Ireland was still in it, with a chance to make it to the FIFA 2010 World Cup. A performance in itself, judging by the poor results in the previous qualifiers, miserably wasted on the desired way to Austria and Switzerland. 

Between Ireland and a winter trip to Africa came across the hand of destiny. France, 1998 Coupe du Monde winner and 2006 World Cup finalist, was drawn in the play-offs as a seeded team versus the Irish. And Croke Park was once again the venue of a spirited but once again short changed Irish display. St. Ledger’s body and the post have deflected Anelka’s shot into Given’s net: 0-1.

The Saturday first leg was another Irish missed opportunity to impose its authority, to take a shaky Goliath of the game by the scruff of the neck. The frustration spilled over in the media, about alleged loose words sneaked by Lassana Diarra towards Keith Andrews at the final whistle. The game was over, the talk was done in the grass with a 1-0 for the favourites and the scrumage at the end of 90 minutes just poised the return leg even further.

In Paris, it was captain’s Robbie Keane honour to put the record straight: the French were superior in Dublin but the tie wasn’t over yet… 1-1 on aggregate. Without Abidal and Escude, his substitute who was unfortunately injured by fellow defender Evra in the opening minutes, the World Cup finalist was more vulnerable by the minute.

Yet Ireland didn’t capitalize on this advantage. Ireland didn’t sent the tie to sleep with a second goal and it’s an unwritten football law that missed chances are coming back to haunt you. O’Shea, Duff and Keane, who have passed even the brave goalkeeper Lloris but apparently wanted to majestically enter with the ball in the net, couldn’t find the target after nicely crafted attacks and the boumerang mercilessly stroke in extra-time.

It was all about an offside. As it happened many times in football, in more or less poised encounters, with a lot or less at stake, the offside rule and its interpretation complicated the affair and sparked controversy. It’s what happened on wednesday evening in Paris, after 11 o’clock. Two French players were offside in a deadball situation but the Swedish assistant referee failed to signal the irregularity and the rest became big time history.

It’s the assistant linesman and his glued flag that failed the Swedish referee in charge of the affairs. Once the offside promptly signaled, the following motion would have became irrelevant. In this light has to be perceived the human error that let Henry’s handballs and Gallas equalizer stand. Without this goal, France and Ireland would have probably gone neck in neck to the purgatory of penalty shoot outs, having to eradicate their demons and worst nightmares.

The French have lost a World Cup final on penalty shootouts, in Berlin, in 2006, while the Irish came off the stage at their last World Cup presence by being beaten from the spot by Spain, in Asia, in 2002. Who would have won? Guess what… There is a 50% chance for France to have won it from the penalty spot.

Fact of the matter is that with or without assistant referee’s error to fail to spot the offside that lead to Henry’s infamous two handball and the undeserved French equaliser, Ireland was always only one goal away from qualifying to South Africa. Let’s remember that a 1-0 for Ireland just cancelled the fine French win in Dublin and only a second goal would have insured the islanders’ passage.

And from Robbie Keane’s leisurely miss in an one on one with the goalkeeper stems all the real frustration of the night that should have been but never unfolded. Created opportunities are to be converted. Narrow misses end in bitter failure. A 2-0 for Ireland in the 76th minute would have been fully deserved for the visitors and appropriate to the balance of forces in Paris yet the captain delayed the outcome and let the qualification at the hand of destiny.

It was one Swedish’s inert hand and one Frenchman’s cheeky opportunism which decided it. The Irish were too dejected to react with a second goal which was earlier in many’s boots. But from one of many unspotted offsides which altered results to a character assasination of a well passed captain and a public outcry on the supposed injustice of the game, there’s a long way. Life is unfair and football remains just a game, at times cruel in the extreme but predicating the very essence of human imperfection.

Do we really want video evidence? Can’t we wait for the pilot scheme tested in UEFA Europa League involving penalty area assistant referees, the brain child of a… Frenchman, to see its worth, benefits and real merits? The push for some rule changes seems near yet until then there are times when graciously and dignifyingly accepting any kind of defeat will draw more plaudits than any seemingly righteous but frustrated outcry. The goal that should have not stand was for all to see and the very implacability of referee’s refusal to ask his assistant was more than enough evidence. 

There’s always another morning… France was announced today as top seed for UEFA 2012 European Championship qualifiers, while Ireland is in the third tier of nine nations, with the draw to be made on the 7th of February 2010 in Warsaw. With a bit of change of fortune, the Irish luck might send back Trapattoni to Paris and the French to Lansdowne Road. That wished replay can wait for a potential proper plotted revenge…

So we’re not going to South Africa but our exit from the World Cup qualifying stages was not as straight forward as I thought. I wrote earlier that I’d be happy to eat my words and there’s a massive helping of humble pie in front of me now. A pair I dismissed earlier, Keith Andrews and Glenn Whelan, were immense. Captain Robbie Keane worked his socks off and Damien Duff recaptured past glories. How Liam Lawrence is not a regular at Stoke is beyond me, he was our most creative spark. As we found out though when Thierry Henry switched to Gaelic Football in setting up Gallas for the crucial goal, football is a funny old game some times.

It just proves that we can do it when it matters. A side that was outclassed on Saturday night gave the French the fright of their lives in Paris. What a transformation. Was it Trap calling the shots or did the players on the pitch take matters into their own hands? Whatever it was, Ireland were the better side in 90 minutes and it was touch and go in extra time as both sides tired. Ok so the French goal should have been disallowed but Duff shot straight at Lloris when clean through on goal and John O’Shea ballooned an effort when unmarked from a free. It’s on such slim margins that games like these are decided.
In the end you feel sick for the players, sick for the fans, sick for a nation in need of a good news story. No doubt most of the attention will fall on Henry and his devious role in the goal. We should still be proud though and while we won’t be at the World Cup we’ll have a great chance of getting to Euro 2012 if we can play like that on a regular basis. Trap has signed on to lead us in that campaign so let’s hope he can build some bridges with the likes of Andy Reid, Lee Carsley and Clinton Morrison. Maybe by some miracle Stephen Ireland could be coaxed back into the frame.

It’s tough to take but we can take heart from tonight. I’m certainly taking it on board. I didn’t think those guys were capable of playing like that but I’m happy to have been proven wrong. Unfortunately that’s the only happy note on a night that ended in such disappointment.

Questo orologio Homer Simpson mi sembra un ottimo regalo di Natale.

Lo trovate qui.

Homer Simpson, son 20 años los que han hecho el y su familia. Los Simpsons estan con la Duff de Homer, en 1989, debutaron por la TV no fue hasta 1991 cuando llegaron a la TV abierta aquí en España. Homer es perezoso pero inteligente segun la temporada 12. Fuera de Estados Unidos, Homer se hace más popular que en Estados Unidos, odia la comida saludable y come comida basura.”

La Razón publico el 15 de mayo de 2001 este artículo valia 4,25 € (705 pesetas).

Posted by Duff

The Dervish is rather…particular. When it comes to her clothing, however, and specifically how it feels,  she has a list of non-negotiables:

• The fabric has to be soft, and NOT itchy or scratchy
• It can’t be confining, but it also can’t be too loose
• She had better not feel any tags rubbing against her
• It can’t hang funny, hold static, or restrict her movement (if it gathers at the bicep, don’t even bother)

You probably think I’m annoyed by this. I can’t be –I’m the same way. The difference is, I’ll handle the discomfort and wear the item again, and be irritable all day. The Dervish collects all of her annoyance into a single, feral howl, and tears at herself until she is freed from her fabric prison.

Which is why, when she told me she wanted to be a princess for Halloween, I was a little nervous.

Because I’m not that bright, I took her to a well-known store that carries THE princess dresses. Every one I looked at had gathers, or elastic or fabric I knew I wouldn’t be comfortable wearing (a sure sign of no-go for my Princess and the Pea).

So I searched online for ‘non-itchy princess dresses’ and found Little Dress Up Shop.

We’re talking princess dresses (the very same princesses your Dervish will want to be), fairy dresses and wings, discounted sets, accessories, and dance clothes (including tutus!). Free shipping, too. 

You might be saying, “I have a little boy and he’s not into princesses.” And that’s cool. Because Little Dress Up Shop also has boy gear (including superhero capes!).

You CAN play rugby in a dress.

So The Dervish tried on her lovely (and machine washable!) pink princess dress (she put it on herself – no complicated zippers or doodads). And didn’t cry. And kept it on. And was soooo excited to wear it for Halloween (the first one she ever completed in costume). And the day after. And the day after that. And Veteran’s Day. And most Tuesdays.

Kind of makes you want to be three again, huh?

Psst, you can. And if any of you want to show up at my house wearing this, you just might convince The Dervish to sit on the potty. Think about it, at least.

Fii curajoasa!

O pata de culoare e mereu bine venita in vestimentatia noastra, face bine la moral!

Vedete precum Rihanna, Fearne Cotton, Fergie, Hilary Duff, Cameron Diaz, Alicia Keys au indraznit sa fie altfel si au imbracat blugi in culoarea turquoise.

Incearca si tu!

Lets get started where it “ended”…. (Guns N’ Roses)
Guns N’ Roses. What a band. So many lineups, so much potential, so much talent. I became fixed on the Gunners at a tender age of 7 in 1988 when I snuck into my older brothers hockey locker room and heard ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ blasting on some old school beat box. So aggressive and so powerful and man, did that shit pump me up. The first video I saw from them was Paradise City and I became hooked. I didnt know what the hell I was doing at 7 years old absolutely obsessing over a bunch of fucking junkies, but I thought they were the most badass mofo’s and still feel the same way 20 years later. Granted the band has changed alot and Axl has gone and made some wonderful songs without the old lineup, but I will discuss here the last song ever played live by the “old” lineup. When I say the old lineup in this context, I don’t mean the original lineup, but close to it. Close to what non obsessed GNR fans, unlike myself, would think of as a GNR lineup would be Axl, the crazy top hat wearing guy Slash, and maybe they might remember there was some guy named Izzzy or Dizzy or something like that. The real sharp ones might even know Duff or Steven Adler or Matt Sorum. Anyways, back in 1993 GNR was ending a 2.5 year tour supporting their Use Your Illusion albums and their last show was in Argentina. The last song of the night, an Appetite for Destruction hit called Paradise City was played. Little did the crowd know that this was it for this classic lineup. A lineup with the potential of making megahits every year if they wanted, up to the quality that many would compare to Led Zeppelin, Rolling Stones, or now in modern day era, Pearl Jam. Anyways, now we all get to witness this performance. You could never tell thru this video that Axl hated every other bandmates guys by this point. Enjoy!!

Posted by Duff

Potty training has been, by far–for me–the most challenging chapter of parenting a strong-willed child. By comparison, The Great Snowpants Debacle is a joke.

Like many kids, The Dervish showed interest before she turned two. Knowing her, we encouraged her, pressure-free.

When she was still under three and Atticus was brand new, she said, “I’m going to pee on the potty!” And we said “Great!” and she did. And we did a little dance, and she called her grandparents, and everyone was elated. Two hours later, the little guy was fussy, I wasn’t paying attention, and she had an accident. We told her how proud we were of her for trying, and we’d try again next time. No big deal.

That was six months ago. She hasn’t tried again.

“I’m just not ready,” she tells me. She’s not yet three and a half. But any number of people who ask me about her toileting progress are ready for her to give diapers the heave-ho. I admit, I’m ready, too.

“No, I didn’t pee in my diaper,” she claims, as she sets up a picnic, complete with blanket, plates, utensils and cups. She has — after holding her bladder for 8 hours. When I ask her why she didn’t tell me so we could clean her up, she pours me a drink and says, “Because I don’t want you bothering me about the potty. I told you, I’m not ready.”

Now, you’d think if she could express herself in such a way, she’s old enough for far more advanced concepts than potty-peeing. And you’d be right:

“Dervish, give it a try, and I’ll give you a Skittle,” says her father.

“Daddy, give me five Skittles® and I’ll use the diaper,” she counters.

She has amassed a list of rewards (some we’ve offered, some she’s added) that she will recieve when she deems herself ready: A Skittle. A Princess Backpack. A French Horn(?). Her ears pierced(?).  She will also recieve a phone call from Shrek, attend a cheese party at her favorite Uncle’s, and I will jump up and down.

I got the itchiest, cheapest diapers I could find. She either whines and withstands them, or takes them off and has accidents, and moves on. She would rather stand in a puddle on the floor than sit on the potty. Imagine trying to put a cat in the bathtub. That’s my girl.

We got her amped up about princess underwear. She picked them out herself, wore them and held her urine for 16 hours, squeezing her legs together, walking hunched over. When I suggested she pee in the potty so she could play again, she crossed her arms and glared at me, stone-eyed. Because I worry about UTIs, she outlasted me.

“This will come in handy if you’re ever stuck in traffic, far from a bathroom,” says her pre-school teacher.  

“Yes, I know. And no one will ever get her to do anything she doesn’t want to, which is fantastic,” I say. I have been saying it for over three years. It’s a strength every mother wants for her daughter.

I’ve read books, talked to doctors, professional childcare providers, teachers, and a therapist I happen to know.

They all say the same thing.  Well, except the genius who suggested making her handwash her soiled underwear IN THE TOILET.

I  think I’ll just turn my back to the wind, instead, thanks.

“Duffman would like to thank Jesus for all the good things he has bestowed upon Duffman and the Duffman family”
‘The Simpsons Game’

Posted by Duff

If you’re looking to have me committed, gift my child a toy with multiple pieces: puzzles, board games, fridge toys. Particularly something with wooden or plastic numbers or letters. That way, 1, 2, 4, 6, 7 and 9 will be a constant reminder that 3, 5 and 8 have gone the way of the dinosaur.

At supermarket check out, I dig in my purse for my wallet, only to find a small, orange, wooden fish, separated from his school.  And speaking of grocery shopping, don’t get me started on the plastic cart and 100-piece faux food set. In an effort to avoid clutter (his aversion), my husband has stored the cart — somewhere even he can’t find it. One green pepper and one red apple remain underfoot as a reminder of the 98 plastic and cardboard items that have disappeared into the (not so) great beyond of our home.

Worse than the missing? The mismatched. In a box of multicolored blocks: a playing card; a broken and peeled purple crayon; Mr. Potato Head’s lips.

That’s kids for you. Their influence spills over into everything; nothing can ever be compartmentalized again. Here, The Dervish illustrates that point:

I am at ease when The Play-Doh behaves, surface mingling only, with the other colors.  Everyone retires to their respective canisters afterward.

However, my daughter has become a pastry chef, rolling out lavender gumpaste and layering fuschia fondant to punctuate her mark on my universe.  You know how hard it is to separate colors once they are forcefully pressed together. Just give up. It’s over.

Check out this handiwork: I think it’s a cross between decoupage and papier-mâché. Which means that under this frosting, there is no more ‘yellow’, no more simply ‘pink’. There is pellow and yink. Holy crap, my orderly world has been turned on its proverbial ass.

But. She is happy. She is engrossed. She is proud of her creations. The child who has never taken to crayons or paint has finally found her medium.  Just back away, slowly.

Without prompting, she mounts her favorite pieces on pedestals, begs us not to disassemble her display while she takes her bath.  I hand this task off to my husband. Attempting to extract inseparable swirls will surely drive me mad.

But it’s not just that. Something in me has changed. Those little cakes may interfere with my sense of order, but I hate to see them go, to be the one to break them down.  Her vision has me toeing the confines of my neurotic comfort zone.

Isn’t that the point of art?

She has reminded me how, back when my house was cleaner and smelled better, and things were put away where they belonged, I was acutely aware of the hollow space where my children would grow. Before I even knew to expect there would be a Dervish or an Atticus, I missed them. How I hoped, when The Unknown arrived, they’d flow seamlessly into every imaginable corner of our lives.  I certainly didn’t have children to make my house (or life) neater or more organized.

Amid utter disorder, we have completed our unmatched set.

REMINDER: The Best Working Mom Blog Giveaway ends Friday, October 30! Cast your vote for a chance to win a Pottery Barn Kids $100 gift card! Read the contest details.

Começou a contagem regressiva para o próximo final de semana!

Haylie Duff re-tweeted Miguel Karam’s update on Twitter as part of his HDBnow account. You can follow him www.twitter.com/miguelkaram or www.twitter.com/HDBnow

Here’s how MIGUEL KARAM reacted:

“God you guys! HAYLIE DUFF just re-tweeted my TWITTER update! I am so happy! I was shaking first and my heart was beating really fast!!! I am famous!!! lol kdn I just wrote: “Watch the trailer for Haylie Duff’s film “Fear Island” here: http://bit.ly/2uPwIs It looks really good! @HaylieK” and then she re-tweeted: “RT @HDBnow: Watch the trailer for Haylie Duff’s film “Fear Island” here: http://bit.ly/2uPwIs It looks really good!” I love Haylie Duff. ♥ She’s so sweet! http://hilaryfan.com/forums/showthread.php?p=2522738#post2522738″

Por mais que tomem cuidado, as fotos das mais aguardadas celebridades nuas em revistas masculinas, sempre vazam!

Desta vez foram as da nova coelhinha da Playboy americana, que há muito vinha sendo sondada pelo chefão Hugh Hefner…

Ninguém menos que Marge Simpson!

Percebe-se que foi abolido o uso do Photoshop, recurso que tantas celebridades são obrigadas a recorrer. Aliás, o ensaio conseguiu mesclar sutilidade com ousadia e ainda fazer referência a imagens clássicas…

Como no momento Marilyn Monroe acima!

O fotógrafo se apropriou ainda de um estilo puro, deixando algumas fotos levemente amadoras!

Ou você não viu a sombra do mané gordão e careca ali?!

O encontro perfeito do sofisticado (representado pelo champanhe) com o rústico (a latinha de cerveja jogada, provavelmente, pelo mesmo mané da sombra da foto anterior) deram um toque especial à coelhinha.

Cá entre nós, Marge Simpson bem que estava precisando dar um upgrade em sua imagem pessoal que estava arranhada depois das fotos que andaram circulando pelos tablóides…

Ô Marge, deixa esse papel pra Britney Spears, a Paris Hilton, a Lily Allen ou a Amy Winehouse, pô!

Marge Simpson

Playboy choque certaines personnes avec sa dernière publication de leur revue. Les pages centrales sont réservées à nulle autre que Marge Simpson.

Gageons qu’ils vont en vendre “pas à peu près”. Nous attendrons l’entrevue d’Homer.

Source: 7s7

- Bref une autre bonne nouvelle pour prendre la vie du bon bord!