Maybe I am mean

I'm at the library and just saw a woman with a few youngsters, maybe 3 or 4 years old (I am grumpy and hazardously sleep-deprived). One of them toddled by and fell on the ground. He was fine, so I smiled.

Then I looked out the window and imagined every 4-year-old on earth falling down at the same time. And I smiled more.

This may not be healthy.

But, actually I'm now chuckling loudly, and staring at this kid out of the corner of my eye. He's running back and forth on hardwood floor, so his shoes make this WAK-WAK-WAK-WAK-WAK sound. I'm just cracking up.

Oh, his mom made his stand still again.

Embroidered Penguin Classics

Check this out!

http://blog.jilliantamaki.com/2011/03/penguin-threads-deluxe-classics/

Apparently they'll be released this fall.

Clothing with a Story

Today's fashion is pretty decent. It's classy and doesn't involve shoulder pads. Most notably, the good stuff hearkens back to the 1950s and '60s, when fashion entered the modern age, but retained some elegance.

Someone from my mom's work sent me a small clothing catalogue - and I recently rediscovered the website - for a fantastic company that is bringing the classic fashions back, exactly as they were.

The J. Peterman Company is found at www.JPeterman.com. All of the images are illustrated, which is lovely, but makes it a little difficult to envision in person. But check this out:

The product descriptions alone make the website worth visiting. EACH page tells a story. This is for the "Russian Navy Shirt":

"Wait a minute. Does Russia really have a navy?

They do. Of course they do.

Watch the news on TV tonight. If they're wearing striped shirts like this, it's the Russian Navy.

Unless you see a dark-eyed girl paddling a green boat and her boyfriend laughs and smokes and laughs and his cigarette is slightly less than one inch long and permanently attached and he is wearing a not bad-looking striped navy shirt, then it's France.

Unless it's New York.

But if the girl and her boyfriend are both blonde, and pale smoky-eyed, and he, you notice, is deeply tanned and wearing a striped navy shirt, then it's Finland.

...

Under a suit jacket, it's L.A. Or maybe Munich.

...

Unless it's Central Park."

If any of the product description stories are true, then many of the fashions - and fragrances - are based on real designs from back in the day.

If not, then you've still just read the best fashion writing available.

And there's even more classy old stuff: men's clothing, collections of luggage, antique kitchenware, old English pub signs, etc.

This is a site I'll be saving for.

Naughty Toast

I've been craving chocolate cake just about once a week for the last few months. It's actually become part of habitual routine that is highlighted by writing and cooking the same things on the same days.

Depending on my spontaneity and laziness levels at the time, I may attempt a homemade chocolate pastry or I might dash to Royal Farms for HoHos.

Last night, I chose culinary adventure.

Tunneling through the fridge, I discovered just enough decadence to make a decent snack: toast with peanut butter, chocolate frosting, and strawberries.

As usual, I used the first name that came to mind: Naughty Toast. It seems appropriate for a choco-peanut-berry thing created in desperation at 10 p.m.

Unfortunately, by the time I thought to take a picture, I'd already eaten the most attractive portion. I'll let you use your imagination on this one.

Phobia Confirmed

I never realized how terrifying firefighting truly is until I observed training at a local station. It's literally a nightmare come true.

During an interview, an Assistant Chief let me try the training maze. I suited up with an air pack, which is probably comparable to scuba gear. It's also heavy and cumbersome.


The mask limits visibility because the nose piece juts out like a beak. First you connect the breathing tube and inhale. The contraption gasps horribly and shoves air into your lungs. It continues to breathe noisily with you.

Let's recap:

Heavy suit.

Bulky equipment.
Limited visibility.
Uncomfortable breathing.

For training, the station has a two-level wooden "maze" that everyone must crawl through IN PITCH DARKNESS. In pairs, the firefighters pass booby traps that hinder passage or simulate floor collapse. The second floor has standing room so they can pelt headfirst down a ladder.

The ground floor is 3' x 3' crawl space that twists like intestine.

Now, here's my recurring nightmare:
I can't see. I can't breathe. I'm wearing a ridiculously large mascot suit, and I must dive into a little trapdoor or tunnel. Maybe it's an enclosed water slide that was plugged up at the bottom.

Conclusion:
Even with outside lights on, the maze was so dark and nightmarish that I barely made it 5 feet inside. I reached the first "twist, climb over this, and the floor will shift," and I told my partner I was done. My audience was politely surprised to see me emerge ten seconds later from the entryway.

The Fire Chief said the maze is virtually the same as a real fire.

I have so much respect for those people.