Baby-Sitters Little Sister #11 Karen’s Prize

I know, I know. I kind of flaked out during the second half of Karen Brewer Week. Please forgive me. My friend A was in town and we were busy eating pizza and playing Mall Madness. It was awesome!

Without further ado, I now belatedly present the final entry for Karen Brewer Week. Believe me, Karen’s Prize is a real winner…

Karen looks like an elderly Austin Powers in a parochial school uniform. And Fear Street thought that Karen’s grill looked busted on the cover of Karen’s Goldfish…

In this book, Karen and her busted grill compete in numerous spelling bees, only to be eliminated during the statewide spelling bee. Eliminated. E-L-I-M-I-N-A-T-E-D. Eliminated.

In other news, Kristy once again takes over the role of parent by boosting Karen’s spirits when she loses at the state level. Oh, and Kristy also nauseates me by giving Karen’s busted grill and stuffed animal butterfly kisses. Maybe that’s because I’m hearing that god awful Butterfly Kisses song in my head as I picture this scene.

ENOUGH! As the Ghostwriter team always says, let’s rewind.

Hey, let’s do a chapter review!

Chapter 1
Ms. Colman reprimands Karen twice for not using her “indoor voice.” Shouldn’t Ms. Colman realize by now that Karen doesn’t actually have an indoor voice? Who wants to bet that Ms. Colman wishes Karen Brewer came with an off switch?

In the midst of the indoor voice debacle, Ms. Colman announces the spelling bee. Here’s the deal. Ms. Colman’s second grade class will have a spelling bee. The winner of the class spelling bee will go on to compete with the winners from all the first, second, and third grade classes in the school. (I would like to pause for a minute and complain. How is it even remotely fair to pit a first grader against second and third graders? It can’t be that far into the school year, we’re only up to the eleventh book in the series.)

Anyway, the winner of the school spelling bee will go on to compete against the winners from the other schools in Stoneybrook. (Okay, how many elementary schools does this small town have? I thought there were only two – public and private. Oh, well. I guess if Sweet Valley can have two middle schools…)

The winner of the town spelling bee will go on to compete in the county spelling bee. The county winner will compete in the statewide spelling bee to try to become the best junior speller in the whole state of Connecticut. (I think we can all figure out that Karen will definitely be in the statewide spelling bee. Should I just skip ahead to Chapter 16?)

Karen starts practicing for the upcoming class bee at recess. She actually spells out H-O-P as she plays hopscotch. Um, Karen? That’s first grade shit. You’re going to have to spell more challenging words if you want to be the best junior speller in Connecticut.

Chapter 2
Here we have the obligatory explanation of how Karen became Karen Two-Two. She tells us all about her F-A-M-I-L-Y. K-I-L-L ME!

Chapter 3
It’s a big house weekend. Karen drives everyone b-a-n-a-n-a-s by spelling at least one word in every sentence she speaks. She makes flash cards and begs everyone to help her practice. First, she interrupts Watson while he’s pulling weeds from the garden and he is annoyed. I really don’t understand why Watson is weeding his own garden. Karen told us he was a millionaire in Chapter 2. Can’t he hire someone and spend the weekend paying attention to Karen and Andrew? I mean, really. He only sees them every other week. The least he could do is help his daughter with her schoolwork. (Now I really hate Watson. He’s actually making me feel sympathy towards Karen. I feel icky…)

Chapter 4
It’s the day of the class spelling bee! Karen wins. I know this because the title of the chapter is “I Won! I Won!” I bet Ann M. Martin spoils movies for everyone, just like Homer Simpson.

Wow, what an ending! Who’d have thought Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father?

Chapter 5

“Do I look the same as I did this morning?” I asked Mommy and Andrew when they picked me up at school.
“Well I’m not!” I said before they had a chance to answer.

Oh, dear god. Can you imagine what must be running through Mama Bear’s head?

“WHAT??? You gave up your V card???”

Karen brags non-stop and makes her mother and stepfather give her words to spell during dinner. Her little brother, Andrew, asks how to play a spelling bee. Karen responds politely, by screeching,

“What a dumb question. It isn’t a game.”

Karen’s mother orders her to apologize. Instead, Karen spells out the word apologize. Then she brags that she is going to be the best junior speller in the state of Connecticut and spells the word Connecticut. Karen asks Andrew if he knows what a state is. When he doesn’t know, we get the following exchange.

“I can’t believe it! You don’t know anything!” [Karen] said.
“I do too know things. I know you’re a sore winner!” said Andrew

Seriously, Andy. The adoption offer still stands. Anything to get you away from that she-brat of a sister. And by the way, you’re awesome!

Chapter 6
Remember the fug cover photo? The outfit that Karen’s wearing is actually in the book. It seems the school spelling bee is taking place in the auditorium and Karen purposefully wore this outfit to match the blue walls. Gag me!

Unfortunately, we all know that Karen wins this spelling bee. She goes around bragging that she’s the Queen Bee. Her classmates encourage her with gems such as this one.

Hey, Ricky? Not helping!

Chapter 7
Karen tells her stuffed animal that the next spelling bee (for the ten million different schools in Stoneybrook) will be held in the auditorium at Stoneybrook High. She actually considers calling Ms. Colman up at home to find out what color the auditorium is. You know, so she can match her outfit to the walls again. Great idea, Karen. Bug your teacher during her time off from YOU about decor in an auditorium that you will not be in for another two weeks. First, it’s ridiculous that a second grader would even think about this topic to begin with. Second, if the second grader does think of this bizarre topic, then the second grader can wait until the next day of school to ask the question.

Chapter 8
It’s spelling bee day! Karen practices all day by spelling her answers to every question in class and spelling while talking to her friends. About half of the class starts to get pissed off and ignores her. Y-A-Y! Some of these kids are i-n-t-e-l-l-i-g-e-n-t.

Chapter 9
Karen is home from school and getting ready for the spelling bee that evening. She changes her outfit five times and calls Watson to tell him what she’s wearing. Karen is afraid that he won’t recognize her if she doesn’t describe her outfit. Jeez, Karen. Give Watson a little bit of credit.

Karen forces her mother and stepfather to give her words to spell and keeps asking how she looks. And then…

“Mommy, how do you spell pest?” [Andrew] asked.

You rock, Andrew!

Chapter 10
Karen wins the Stoneybrook spelling bee. I know, I’m shocked too. Karen is a little miffed that the curtains closed before she could make her acceptance speech. Brother… She gets over it when an eighth grader from her school interviews her for the school paper. I feel bad for the eighth grader who got stuck with this job.

Chapter 11
It’s newspaper day at Stoneybrook Academy. Karen is all spastic, bragging about the article and picture on the front cover of the paper. She actually thinks she’s world famous. Yeah, Karen. I’m sure that your elementary school newspaper is distributed around the globe.

Here’s the kicker. Ms. Colman decides to have a party on Friday in Karen’s honor. Not for winning all those spelling bees, but for making the front cover of the motherf**cking elementary school newspaper. HATE!!! Stop indulging Karen, Ms. Colman. And by the way, Ms. C. you suck!

Chapter 12
Karen’s party… I want to claw my eyes out after reading this chapter. Basically, Karen gets too big for her britches and pisses off the kids in her class who weren’t already mad at her. It got so out of hand that Ms. Colman actually speaks with her afterwards.

“I am very, very proud of how well you have been doing in these spelling bees, Karen,” [Ms. Colman] said. “You have been studying hard and learning your words. But I think you need to learn another thing – what it means to be a good winner. A good winner does not boast and act more important than other people, Karen. A good winner shows humility and graciousness. Do you know those words, Karen?”

This is all your fault, Ms. C! You’re the one who insisted on throwing her a party.

“Humility? Sure! H-U-M-I-L-I-T-Y. Humility!” [Karen] said. “And I know graciousness. G-R-A-C-I-O-U-S-N-E-S-S. Graciousness!” [Karen] spelled both words in about ten seconds. [Karen] heard Ms. Colman give a little sigh.

Again, Ms. C. You encouraged this behavior with your little party.

Chapter 13
Karen’s friend, Hannie comes over to play one weekend morning. The girls get into a big fight when Karen won’t stop spelling and talking about outfit choices for the next spelling bee. Hannie storms out and Karen decides that her outfit choice is more important than going after her friend. BITCH!

Chapter 14
Karen’s classmates give her the silent treatment. I think I may love them!

Chapter 15
Yawn. Karen wins the county spelling bee and gets interviewed by a “real” reporter from a “real” newspaper. Yawn again.

During the competition, Karen’s baby sister, Emily Michelle, starts crying while Karen spells a word. Charlie, her oldest stepbrother, rushes out of the auditorium with the baby. Karen loses focus for a second, but quickly recovers.

After the spelling bee is over, Karen bitches out the baby for almost making her lose the contest. The baby cries and no one reprimands Karen. It’s business as usual, I guess.

Chapter 16
Karen continues to piss off her classmates. This is getting rather redundant.

Chapter 17
It’s time for the statewide spelling bee. Unfortunately, the whole thing is going to be televised, so that Karen can get even more stuck on herself.

Karen gets ready at the big house and is relieved that everyone is all dressed up. She thinks that her entire family will be interviewed after she wins the spelling bee. Hey, Karen. What’s it like on your planet?

Chapter 18
The spelling bee goes on forever, because all of these kids are top junior spellers in their counties. Finally, it’s down to Karen and another girl. Karen loses focus during the contest and starts daydreaming about the national competition six months down the road. She flubs up the spelling of “convertible” and the other girl wins.

Chapter 19
The winner acts gracious to Karen and Karen finally decides to follow Ms. Colman’s advice by being gracious back. I think the earth just opened up and swallowed us all.

Chapter 20
Kristy tucks Karen in that night and they have a heart-to-heart. Karen confesses that she probably deserved to lose for being such a sore winner before. But she tells Kristy that she still hates being a loser. Kristy tells Karen that she should not call herself a loser. (Wrong, Kristy. Karen is very much a loser!)

Kristy argues that Karen has won four out of five spelling bees and placed second in the entire state. Kristy then makes Karen explain how she was a sore winner. Karen goes through the whole spiel and Kristy agrees that Karen was indeed a sore winner. This whole conversation is something that one of Karen’s parents or stepparents should have had with her. Not her 13-year-old stepsister. And what 13-year-old would be able to act so parental? Please!

Karen tells Kristy that she is going to apologize to her best friends and hopes they will forgive her. I wish that they wouldn’t, but we all know they will. At least it doesn’t happen in this book, though. I’ll give Ann M. and the ghosties props for that one.

The book ends with the whole butterfly kisses thing, which I will not torture you with again.

And so ends Karen Brewer Week. Does anyone else have stomach cramps now? I’d like to leave you all on a more positive note. So, here is a much more palatable spelling bee story. A-A-R-D-V-A-R-K!

Baby-Sitters Little Sister #16 Karen’s Goldfish

I do apologize for missing the third day of Karen Brewer Week. I needed a day of rest after all the excitement of the BSC Game.

So, let’s talk about Karen’s little goldfish and the fact that this obnoxious twit is actually allowed to have a pet that she is unable to care for full time. But, as usual, I digress…

I think that we need to have a serious chat about this cover. Notice the difference between the price printed on the cover and the price tag at the top. Clearly this book was so high up on the shit-o-meter that it was necessary to mark it down from $2.75 to $1.00. How sad.

Moving right along, let’s take a look at the fug picture of Karen and Andrew. Andrew looks relatively normal, as I tend to believe he always does. (I seriously want to adopt this boy and rescue him from the Brewer/Thomas nightmare.)

Karen, on the other hand… What can I say? A lot, actually, but I have other Karen posts to get to this week. Let’s just stick to one thing for now. The blue glasses frames to match her shirt! I imagine that Karen has a pair of glasses to match every single outfit that she owns, because Watson is that much of a dickless wonder.

Wait, that’s wrong. Really, really wrong. Karen probably doesn’t have one pair of glasses to match each of her outfits. I’m sure she has two. After all, she is Karen-Motherf**cking-Two-Two. (Yeah, yeah. I know that she only has two pairs total. One is for reading and the other is for everything else. But I like my version better!)

Um, so where was I? Oh, right. The actual contents of the book.

We start off with Karen hunting around her bedroom at the little house for a rat. Ann M. Martin, are you seriously shitting me? Karen has a pet rat??? Apparently, yes. Karen has a pet rat at her mother’s house. Eewwwwwww!!!

Not only does Karen keep a rat in her bedroom, but she’s allowed to let the rat out of its cage and run loose in the house. I guess Mama Bear is as lenient as Papa Bear. Oh, and she named the rat Emily Junior after her baby sister Emily Michelle. Having a rat named after you is not an honor! I think it may actually be an insult. I hope Emily Michelle goes on a killing spree when she grows up. Fanfic, anyone?

Then Karen and Andrew complain about having to leave Emily Junior behind every other weekend when they go to the big house. They’re so very sad, because they don’t have a pet of their own at the big house. It seems the existing big house pets don’t count. Karen decides to ask Watson for a pet of their own at the big house. Well, la-di-effing-da!

Later that night, Karen presents her argument to Watson.

“Daddy, you have Boo-Boo, and David Michael has Shannon. And at Mommy’s are Rocky and Midgie, but they belong to Seth. I have Emily Junior, of course, but she has to stay at the little house. And poor, poor Andrew doesn’t have any pet of his own.”

Using that logic, Watson should actually get seven additional pets for his house. After all, Elizabeth, Kristy, Charlie, Sam, Emily Michelle, and Nannie don’t have pets of their own either. Maybe Watson should turn his house into a zoo. Actually, a circus would be a much smoother transition.

So, Watson and Elizabeth agree that Karen and Andrew should have a pet. What the hell? Karen and Andrew only spend every other weekend there. They do not need a big house pet! The grownups pretend to be parents for a minute, by stipulating that the pet must be small (mouse or hamster-sized), which triggers Andrew to ask for a monkey. Wow, that was almost Karen-like behavior. I’m disappointed, Andrew, but I’ll let it slide just this once. Watson and Elizabeth also insist that Karen and Andrew must find someone to care for it when they’re not at the big house.

Karen and Andrew decide on a fish. Karen cons David Michael into caring for the fish and Watson into buying two fish. I guess that Karen and Andrew need two, because they are Two-Twos. Or just bad at sharing a pet that they will only see every two weeks.

Watson continues to be a sucker, letting the salesperson at the pet store convince him to buy an aquarium, filter, light, air pump, thermometer, plants, and gravel. All this for two little goldfish with the life expectancy of two days.

Andrew names his Goldfishie and Karen names her fish Crystal Light.

Well, I guess they both go in water...

Karen phones the big house non-stop over the next week to pester people about the well-being of the fish. She even convinces Charlie to pick her up at the little house, drive her to the big house, and then drive her back to the little house after she stares at Crystal Light for five minutes. PEOPLE, PLEASE. STOP INDULGING KAREN! SHE’LL NEVER LEARN IF YOU KEEP THIS UP!

Karen is all ecstatic about seeing her fish again. Three days later, Crystal Light turns up dead. I bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you?

Karen reacts by calling David Michael a fish-killer and complaining that it isn’t fair that Andrew still has a pet at the big house. Do you want David Michael to kill Goldfishie too?

The next morning, Karen refuses to eat breakfast and goes to school wearing a black velvet dress, black tights, black Mary Jane shoes, and a black ribbon in her hair. Oh, for f**k’s sake, Karen!

Someone asks her what’s wrong, and she responds,

“My fish is dead. My brother killed her. I am in mourning.”

Then she tells her entire class that David Michael murdered her fish. Nice one, Drama!

Oh, but it keeps getting worse and worse. Karen remembers that they had a funeral when Louie (David Michael’s old dog) died and Karen decides to throw a fish funeral the next day at the big house. She invites her entire class before she has even asked Watson and Elizabeth if she could have the funeral. Maybe they don’t feel like having a bunch of kids traipsing through their house. Wait, what am I saying? How would they even notice twenty extra kids in that house?

Watson and Elizabeth suck, so they don’t reprimand Karen for any of this. The only thing they do is send her to room for half an hour for repeatedly calling David Michael a fish-killer and banning him from the funeral. After her punishment is over, they don’t force her to apologize. She proceeds to call kids from the neighborhood to invite them to the funeral. This is seriously a lot of kids. I hope they don’t expect to get fed or something…

Karen orders all of her classmates and neighborhood friends to wear all black and bring a flower. Too bad, before that I was picturing the funeral like this.

At the funeral, Karen forces Charlie to dig a tiny grave, Kristy to give the eulogy, and everyone to sing Who Did Swallow Jonah? Brother…

I can’t believe all of Karen’s classmates parents agreed to drive them to this ridiculous fish funeral! Speaking of which, Karen refused to let David Michael attend. I cannot believe Watson and Elizabeth allowed these shenanigans! HATE!!!

Even though he had every right to be bitter, David Michael still attempted to cheer Karen up after the funeral. He led her next door (home of Mrs. Porter, the “witch”) to show her a fish pond. Mrs. Porter catches them on her property. Instead of chasing them away with a broom, she offers Karen one of the fish from the pond after hearing about Crystal Light. (People are seriously way too nice to Karen.)

Karen picks a fish that looks exactly like Crystal Light and names it Crystal Light the Second. Please tell me this is not going to turn into a Snowball VI fiasco!

In the end, Karen apologizes to David Michael and he forgives her. Of course he does… It’s not like Karen needs to learn any lessons, does she?

THERE IS A SERIOUS LACK OF HOME TRAINING IN THAT CHILD!!!

The Baby-Sitters Club Game

In honor of the second day of Karen Brewer Week… Say hello to your friends. Baby-Sitters Club!

I mentioned this board game in a previous post, but I really don’t think it got enough screen time on this blog. And really, what better way to celebrate Karen Brewer Week than to honor her predecessors. So, without further ado, I now present the BSC Game.

(Applause, please.)

Thank you. Thank you very much. Let’s start things off by taking a look at the board.

(Please ooh and aah.)

You will notice, my friends, that there are four main colors on this board – peach, green, lavender, and yellow. These are all muted pastels to fit in with the “baby-sitting” theme we have going on here.

Now, the players will each select a different color game piece and place it on the corresponding corner square. Members of the studio audience, please try to contain yourselves. The players are about to each take a matching cardboard clipboard and a scoring sheet.

We will now dole out the tokens with numbers on them, so all players can vote on each other’s responses to the questions.

People, please. Try to refrain from booing. I know that these tokens are rather shitastic and that the numbers are not even centered. But they are all we have.

All right, then! It looks like we’re all set! Let’s get ready to play!

(Applause, please.)

Player #1 will roll two dice – one with numbers and one with letters. I can feel the excitement in the air!

Now, Player #1 is moving clockwise five spaces. Ah, lavender! I will now read aloud a lavender question from the “A” category.

Oh, lucky for you, Player #1, you did not get “C”. That would have been a doozy.

Tick-tock. Player #1, your time is up! And you didn’t answer the question. I’m afraid you have all zeros across the board. Let’s give her a hand for trying, even though she really didn’t.

(Applause, please.)

This was a tough question. We must ask ourselves the all-important question. WWKD – What would Karen do?

• Call her Hatey Hoffman
• Bitch about having to sit in alphabetical order and clean the sink
• Throw her a good-bye party after making her life a living hell for the past month

Well, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today. Here are some highlights from our next game.

Thanks to all of our players. The runners up will receive the home version of the BSC Game, complete with this double-sided advertisement flyer with detachable bookmark.

Thanks for joining us and have a wonderful Karen Brewer Week!

(Applause, please.)

Baby-Sitters Little Sister #2 – Karen’s Roller Skates

Before I delve deep into this literary masterpiece, I feel it is only fitting that I explain exactly how I acquired this book. Short story? I stole it from a little girl.

Longer story? Let’s rewind back to Labor Day 2009. My town accepts used book donations every year for a massive book sale at the annual Labor Day festival. The proceeds from the book sale go to the local schools. They give away any books that they are unable to sell at the end of the festival.

This year, my in-laws forced me to attend the parade at the end of the festival. I really, really hate parades. Can you blame me? Who wants to spend three hours standing in one place watching strangers march or drive by? And the biggest offense? My in-laws live halfway across the country and didn’t know anyone either. It was one big suckfest!

ANYWAY! Some of the strangers walking by happened to be the PTA and a bunch of sad looking kids. They were wheeling wagons full of books. The sad-faced tots kept walking up to people watching the parade and asking them to please take books. SAVE THE BOOKS FROM THEIR FIERY DESTINY!!! I really didn’t want to considering I had already supported the cause by purchasing 20 books. I live in a very tiny home.

But then, THEN, I saw a book tucked under the arm of one of the girls begging people to save the books. I recognized the checkered pattern on the cover and my heart started racing.

“What’s that?” I demanded. The little girl held out the book in her hand.

“No,” I said. “Not that one. The one under your arm?” She looked at me blankly. I stared back. She reluctantly pulled the book out.

“I’ll take that one,” I told her. “The Baby-Sitters book.” She slowly handed it over. Let that be a lesson, little girl! If you want to keep a book, find a better hiding place.

I am not evil! I absolutely needed that book. How else was I going to recap it for you guys? You can thank me now. (Or not. This book is awful.)

Anyway, onto the book.

The title? Lies! All lies!!! This book is barely about Karen’s motherf**cking roller skates. She falls and breaks her wrist in Chapter 3 and never uses those blasted roller skates again in this book. She spends the rest of the book obsessing over her cast. I hate deceptive titles!

I have some suggestions for new titles in case they ever want to reissue these books.

Karen’s Cast
Seriously, it’s all she talks about…

Karen’s Negligent Parents
It’s NOT their fault she broke her wrist. It IS their fault that they expect the 13-year-old stepsister to play caretaker after Karen breaks said wrist. Even if that 13-year-old is Kristy Thomas, Baby-Sitter Extraordinaire.

Worst Cast Signing Ever
It’s bad, folks. It’s real bad… I can’t even do it justice by describing it. So, here are some scans of signatures from the entire Brewer/Thomas clan.

Ha, ha, ha, indeed. You slay me with your incredible wit, Sam. Next time, ask her if her refrigerator is running.

This? FAIL! Green and scream do not rhyme. Isn’t Charlie a senior in high school?

Thomas? Oh, that David Michael! I’m glad you cleared that up, DM. After all, there are so many other David Michaels in Karen Brewer’s sad little life. Oh well, at least you didn’t talk about bananas or cabbages. Muchas gracias!

Ugh… This is much worse than bananas and cabbages! Go away, Kristy!

Thank you, Andrew. You have saved the day! It was always my opinion that you did not belong in this obnoxious multiplying family. I would like to adopt you.

I hate you, Watson. You are the worst millionaire that I’ve never met. George Fowler would never stoop so low.

I can’t think of a single thing to say, except “Go play in traffic, Elizabeth Thomas Brewer.”

Hey, even the pets give a shit about Karen in this stupid house. I wonder why Ann M. Martin didn’t make them even more talented and have them learn to speak English. Hey, if the Perkins girls can do it…

And last, but not least, my final suggestion for a revised title…

Karen Sucks
It’s Karen Brewer. No further explanation necessary.

Okay, okay. My original intent was to recap the entire book. But now I don’t feel like it. So, I’ll summarize it briefly and then pick some choice parts to rip to shreds. Sound fun? Anyone? No? Eh, tough…

Synopsis:
Karen breaks her wrist while attempting forbidden roller skating tricks. She spends the rest of the book obsessing over having a celebrity sign her cast. Karen’s classmate broke his ankle and a famous baseball player/friend of his family signed his cast. Karen cannot lose face at school!

Karen spends the entire book whining, but finally gives up on getting her celebrity signature. She settles for a “witch” when she has her dad’s next door neighbor sign the wretched cast.

At the end of the book, Karen’s mother picks her up from Watson’s house and offers to have a celebrity sign the cast. Mom’s movie star friend is in town for the weekend. (There seem to be an inordinate amount of celebs in Stoneybrook at any given time. I thought it was a small town. Also, I’m sure celebrities have nothing better to do than sign some little shit’s cast.)

And now, here are some quotes to ponder over:

“Here are the things I can do:
1. Skate forward – Get this girl a medal! Not every 6-year-old can go forward while wearing skates.
2. Skate forward fast – Faster than a speeding bullet?
3. Skate backward (not so fast) – And here I thought you were a world champion
4. Turn around – Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming around
5. Stop without falling down – And here I thought you might be borderline r…
6. Try any trick I see” – Sit, Ubu. Sit!

---

“Karen, honey,” [Elizabeth] said. “Doctor Dellenkamp wants you to go the hospital. She’ll meet us in the emergency room. Kristy, you stay here with Andrew and David Michael. Sam and Charlie are out.

“No,” said Kristy firmly. “I’m going to the hospital with Karen.”

…At last Elizabeth said, “Okay. You go. I’ll stay here.”

What the hell? Be a parent and quit indulging your spoiled heathen children.

 

---

I leaned against my pillows. I felt like a princess. I asked for hundreds of things.

Again with the over-indulgence!

 

---

“Why, Karen,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Who helped you get dressed? I thought Kristy was still asleep.”

Am I the only one who finds it absurd that the parents expect the 13-year-old to do their job?

 

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Mr. Tastee is really nice. He cares about us kids. He always stops and talks to us. We just love Mr. Tastee.

This could be so misconstrued…

Trolling in the ’90s

Why? That is the only question that I can think of to ask. Why did we think the abominations pictured above were so effing adorable? They are ugly, creepy little things. Dressing them up in party clothes, overalls, or beach attire does not change this fact. Even if the one in the middle is listening to an old school walkman.

Trolls are supposed to be ugly and scary. Think of the troll under the bridge in The Three Billy Goats Gruff.

Does he look like he’s ready to attend a birthday party or hang ten? This just proves that children of the early ’90s were missing some brain cells.

I had friends that owned dozens of these Troll dolls back in the early ’90s. I only owned the three in the photo at the top of this post. I got them as birthday presents when I turned 12. All from friends, of course.

Technically, I did have one more Troll doll. It was a tiny pencil topper that came with the pencil. That particular troll met with a pretty gruesome fate (a.k.a. death via out of control pencil sharpener).

I wonder what today’s verison of the Troll doll is (i.e. something truly hideous that passes for cutesy.) Do Bratz dolls fill that particular role? Maybe there is no modern day version of Troll dolls. Kids are awfully high-tech these days. If it’s not on a screen, it doesn’t exist, right?

Jewelry Dujour of the ’80s = Plastic Charm Necklaces

Here is my collection in all its glory! Well, not really. I know I had about 50 more charms, but who knows where they are at this point? My guess is a landfill.

My cousin C and I were avid collectors of these gaudy, plastic charms. Alas, all I have left are a handful and one plastic chain that I rescued from my parents’ house. I’m missing some of the clips…

My favorite charm was the pencil. Remember pencils? They were tools that people used once upon a time for writing. By HAND. Anyone? No?

I also loved the pink Coca-Cola bottle and the Super Boy skateboard. Why Super Boy? Did that phrase used to mean something? Was it the Superbad of the 1980s? Did it have to do with Superboy, the TV show? It’s an ancient mystery from the mid to late ’80s that may never be solved.

Some of these charms were so incredibly random. The creepy, baby-looking-bug-eyed-thing in the moon? Yikes! What about the padlock and key? The blue and white cat whose head moved from side to side? The, um, “Happy” charm?

I wonder how they decided what charms to manufacture? And wouldn’t that be the coolest job ever?

Hmm, let’s see. I think little girls are currently into cats, dogs, Coca-Cola, and skateboards. Let’s do something like that. Oh, and I think a helicopter charm would be really rad.

The Simpsons Scene It

Scene it? Want it!

Now that Halloween’s over, is it time to start thinking about Christmas? Okay, so I’m not Christian. But my husband’s family is. That should count for something!

I need to have this game. I promise to share it with friends (as I beat the piss out of them at it). Muahahahahahaha!

5•7•9 still exists? Really?

How is it possible that I did not know this? A 5•7•9 store exists a mere 15 miles away from my house. They have managed to change with the times, though. In a decidedly un-early-’90s move, they went and created one of those newfangled web sites.

Hey, look! They’re still selling plaid shirts! Not much has changed since 1992!

This was my favorite store in 7th grade. I used to beg my parents to buy me clothes from 5•7•9. Unfortunately for me, I still fit into children sizes at that age. I wish I did now. How foolish I was back then!

Anyway, children sizes were cheaper than juniors, so my parents rarely caved. I did own a few of their hooded plaid sweatshirts. I was at the height of fashion for the first and only time in my life. Except for the small fact that I was only fashion forward in my own deluded mind.

I was thinking about walking into the actual store just for kicks. But what fun would that be when I can’t even try anything on? Nothing in that store will fit me! Although, truth be told, perfectsize12 has lost weight and is technically a perfectsize10 at the moment. Even so, junior clothing is cut for skinny girls. God forbid anyone has a chest, hips, or butt.

I really wish I still had some of those sweatshirts, even though they would never fit me now. Size 5? Hah! But I’d love to be able to post pics of my embarrassing clothing choices from back in the day. The only thing I have is my eighth grade photo. You can only see half of it, but I’m pretty sure that this shirt was from 5•7•9. If not, it certainly fit in with their style.

Wow, looking at this photo is painful! My hair was frizzy, despite the fact that I painstakingly tried to straighten it that morning. FAIL!

Also, why the hell was I wearing a shirt with a baseball theme? FAIL AGAIN! I hated sports then just as much as I do now. I blame the kids in gym class for my extreme hatred. My elementary school was full of kids who took gym class way more seriously than any other class. Hmm, I wonder what those ambitious go-getters are up to now?

And can we please talk about the background on that photo? Can you imagine that out of all the backgrounds, I chose that one? FAIL THRICE! I’m hoping that the other backgrounds were way worse, but I have a feeling that they weren’t. I remember when the school switched photographers in fifth grade. The new photographer had a form with background choices that they would add in after the photo was taken. We were all amazed by the technology. Technology has come a long way, hasn’t it?

And final point of contention… That shirt is fug! Why did I want to own it, let alone wear it? Why did no one stop me? Why didn’t I stop me? EPIC FAIL!

Haunted by Halloweens Past

Halloween used to be my favorite holiday as a kid. Costumes and candy! What could be more fun?

I’ve found myself growing disillusioned with the holiday over the past couple of years. I actually find myself stifling yawns when people talk excitedly about their plans for Halloween. Costumes, parties, etc. Just call me Mr. Butterbean, out to ruin everyone’s fun by canceling Halloween.

So, what’s my problem? I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s the sullen teenagers who come to the door sans costumes with their hands out. Seriously, if you want free shit you’re going to have put in a little effort. Put on some cat ears or a sports jersey. Wear something other than your belligerent facial expressions, please!

Last year, my husband took care of answering the door. He had a ball handing out candy to all the kiddies. Well, he did until those high schoolers with their too cool for school attitudes came around. I’m hiding out this year. Bah humbug! No candy for anyone (except me).

Okay, I’ll stop being such a debbie downer and start reflecting on Halloweens past. My mother was always really into the holiday. Not enough to decorate, mind you. But damn was she creative with costumes.

When I was three-years-old, my mother decided to dress me up as Raggedy Ann. And no, she did not go out and buy a smock/mask thingy from the drugstore. She only resorted to that one time.

I wore a red and white hand-me-down dress from my cousin, red and white striped socks from the outlet store, and my imitation buster browns. Best of all, she made me a wig out of red yarn and a yarmulke. Sacreligious, much? It was the perfect base for a wig, though. And we had so damn many yarmulkes around the house from a myriad of weddings and funerals. Thus, Raggedy Me was born!

Now, I ask you. Who wore it better?

Sorry for the crappy photo quality. This is the only Halloween photo of myself that actually exists. My parents rarely remembered the camera or a new roll of film. (Film? How quaint!) When they did remember, they almost always forgot to develop the film after the fact.

The costume was such a success that my mother re-used it the following year. When I was five-years-old, my mother took a creativity hiatus and bought a Strawberry Shortcake mask and smock costume from the drugstore. She deserved a break, that Raggedy Ann costume was hard work. Sadly, no photos from that year. The only thing I remember was that I had trouble breathing in that nightmare of a plastic mask. I yanked that mask off before we even left the house.

Remember how horrid those masks used to be with a tiny slit for a mouth and no nose holes? My mother resorted to using the scissors to punch out nostrils and to cut a larger mouth. After that, I was happy to wear the mask out trick or treating. There still wasn’t enough air and I sweated out half my body weight that night.

At age six, I told my mother that I wanted to be Vicki from Small Wonder. Luckily, I was a skinny enough kid and still fit into the hand-me-down dress that I wore as Raggedy Ann. My mother pinned the bottom of my ponytail up. Then she made a small box out of cardboard, drew robot-ish looking things on it, and popped a couple of AA batteries on it. She attached the box to the back of my dress with duct tape. We went to a friend’s party that night and everyone immediately guessed who I was. Ah, 1986…

Pretend this is me. I have no photos!

Age seven was not a good year for Halloween costumes. We moved to a new house the week before Halloween and my mother had no time to think about costumes. I grabbed the old Strawberry Shortcake costume and off we went trick or treating.

I’m drawing a blank on my eighth Halloween. I don’t know what I was.

When I was nine, my best friend K and I were punk rockers. I don’t remember what clothing I wore. My wardrobe was hardly daring or badass. Cut me some slack, I was nine. Unfortunately, I can’t make any excuses for the current state of my wardrobe and it’s twenty years later.

I do remember putting my hair in a half-side ponytail. K’s mother sprayed our hair pink and blue. I think we were all watching too much Jem or something. We were probably the opposite of being truly, truly, truly outrageous.

At age 10, I was a hippie. I wore my father’s old jeans which looked almost like bell bottoms on me (but not really). I wonder what shirt I wore? I tied my father’s peace-sign tie around my head.

For the next several years, I pretended to be too cool for Halloween and refused to dress up or trick or treat.

When I was 14 and a freshman in high school, my friends and I thought it might be kind of fun to go trick or treating. I stuffed a towel in my sweater to make myself look preggers and wore a sign reading I Should Have Danced All Night. Believe it or not, this was my mother’s suggestion. It did turn out to be pretty funny until my back started to hurt from the extra weight I was carrying in front.

I took a Halloween hiatus for the next couple of years, as I was delusional enough to think that I was too cool for it. I wasn’t though…

As a freshman in college, I went for one last trick or treat with some friends. Seriously, what is it with freshman??? I dressed up as an alien. I made tin foil antennas and put glitter on my face. Hooray for half-assing it! I should have brought my mother to college. She could have helped me look like I was actually wearing a costume.

As for this year, I’m feeling a little under the weather. I caught the dreaded bug going around my office. People, please. Stop coming to work when you’re sick! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If you are coughing, sneezing, and/or blowing your nose, then you are still in fact contagious. Stop telling me that you’re not! Now pass me a kleenex, you inconsiderate jack-offs who somehow get paid for goofing around on Facebook all day!

Ahem. Please excuse my outburst.

Maybe next year, I can convince some friends to dress up as senior citizen versions of characters from Sweet Valley High or the Baby-Sitters Club. What would Jessica look like with a cane all botoxed and shizz? Heh!

Happy Halloween, everybody! I’ll try to refrain from pooping all over the party.

Becker Brings the Bitchiness

I loved this show in the late ’90s! I was so happy to discover the reruns on WGN. Now I get to watch two episodes of Becker while eating dinner. I live a charmed life.

Ted Danson played Dr. John Becker, a miserable scrooge of a man. Becker was a total brat who constantly complained about everyone and everything. Becker bluntly and rudely delivered his often accurate opinions and observations. I loved it

Tonight, I got to watch one of my favorite episodes during dinner. Today was the day that everyone under the sun was begging Becker for help with something. Becker ultimately got hit by a stray bullet while loudly refusing to help anyone else. He fell to the ground, crying, “Help!”

Becker said one of my favorite lines during this episode. He walks into the diner before work and bitches about how he woke up to some kid knocking on his door. The kid was selling candy to raise money for a class trip to Disneyland. And Becker said, “I’ve been to Disneyland. Believe me, the answer is not more kids.”

Becker says so many hilarious things in every episode, it’s hard to keep track. Here are a few of my favorite Becker quotes:

“If you and I were the only people on the face of the Earth, that would be the only thing we’d have in common.”

“The world is full of idiots, and someone needs to point it out to them or they will never know.”

“The Marathon just gets my hopes up. At first it seems like 20,000 idiots are leaving the city, but then they just make a big loop and come right back.”

Despite being such an effing pill, Becker really did care about his patients, employees, and friends. I’m thinking of buying the first couple of seasons on DVD. You know, before DVDs go the way of VHS cassettes and stop existing.