FeeFiFoto Blog

Photo Hunters: Thankful

This one was easy.  I'm thankful my kids have grandparents living nearby so they can get cuddles whenever they need them.  I wish my grandparents had been able to know my kids because I'm convinced my father's mother would have worshipped Cleo and my mother's father would have adored Robey.

PhotoHunt

Adventures In Dry Cleaning: "No Ticky, No Washy," She Said

I went to the dry cleaners today to pick up a dress.  I knew exactly where to find the ticket: safe at home next to the telephone.  No problem -- give them your phone number and they look up your account.

The lady (Chinese, by the way) handed me the dress with a smile, and said: "No ticky no washy."  Then she grinned and said: "You ever hear that saying? 'No ticky no washy?'  My husband is Chinese and he's from New York and many dry cleaners in New York are owned by Chinese people.  He told me a long time ago they used to say that if you didn't have your ticket." 

I just gaped at her, terrified that my ADD-rooted inability to read social signals scuttled my chance of responding appropriately.  Of course I'd heard "no ticky no washy" before; my grandmother used to joke about it.  But how was I supposed to respond?  Was it okay for her to talk about it but not me?  Could I laugh with her?  Should I admit to having heard the phrase before?  If I joked about it would I be seen as whatever the anti-Chinese version of anti-Semite is?

I took a prolonged mental pause and then told her I'd hoped she'd give me the laundry if I just gave her my most winning smile.

What would you have said?

Where Have All My Readers Gone?

Yesterday I was up to 51.  Today I'm at 19.  And now, this evening, I'm back to 51.

Whoops -- 19 again.  Wish I were 19 again.

No I don't.  I just wish I looked 19 again.  Yeah, that's it.  Without the bad perm.

I think my blog might be possessed by the devil.

Thursday Thirteen: Things I'd Rather Make From Scratch Than Buy

1. Soup -- chicken, beef barley, butternut squash, roasted turkey.
2. Pancakes.  Actually, I'd rather my mother make them, because hers are sooo good.
3. Waffles -- Okay, I use a mix, but it's whole wheat with only flour, corn meal and leavening.  I do the rest.
4. Popcorn for movies.
5. Corn bread.
6. Pizza.  Not that my kids will eat it; they want Domino's.
7. Chocolate pudding.  I don't actually do this, except for the chocolate meringue pie filling.
8. Bread crumbs.  I know I'm treading on thin ice here, nerdly-wise, but hear me out: once in a while I harvest the last bits of crackers, cereal and pretzels and throw them in the food processor with some spices.  It takes five minutes and uses up leftovers.
9. French toast, made with leftover challah.  Yum!
10. Hot chocolate.  My kids are really good at this; they add vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, maybe a little mint.  I throw a dash of instant coffee in mine.
11. Cookies.  Okay, I'm making that one up.  I'd buy Oreos any day.
12. Valentines.
13. Pottery.

Don't forget to enter the Fame giveaway.  The winner gets fame and a $10 gift certificate.

Wordless Wednesday, Stream Of Consciousness Style: Remember "Went With The Wind"?

I posted this photo:

Image from Yahoo!

...which I labeled with this caption:

I'll nevah go hungry again.

My kids said:

What the devil does that mean?

So I showed them this picture:

 

This and the following image from Frenchlique

...which inevitably led me to this picture:

Do I really need words to describe this?

Watch this one first, and then this one.

You're welcome.

Please enter my Fame giveaway.  Thanks!

::Snicker::

Some bloggers like to highlight the Google searches that bring them readers.  I'm looking at the Google Adsense ads that are matched up with my posts.  For example, when I wrote about the differences between monkeys and apes, Google placed this ad:

Watch the Castrol Edge ® Grease Monkeys Super Bowl Commercial Now!

Monkeys and Apes... Grease Monkeys.  Yeah, that's a match.

Snarking: My Take On Oscar Fashions

Miley Cyrus looked like a Christmas tree.

Beyonce looked like a vase.

Vanessa Hudgens looked like a feather duster.

Penelope Cruz looked like the curtains in a 19th century bordello.

Heidi Klum looked like a waxwork, wearing her dress sideways.

Meryl Streep looked like a queen.

Sophia Loren dyed her skin to match her dress.

Tilda Swinton looked like a ghoul.

Marisa Tomei, Sarah Jessica Parker, Viola Davis, Natalie Portman, Anne Hathaway, Freida Pinto, Robert Downey Jr. -- WOW!

Meanwhile, in other news:

• Slumdog Millionaire has been expelled from the Academy and will have to return all its awards after it's been revealed that the film failed to pay taxes in 2005 and 2006.
• Wall-E is under investigation for possible steroid use.

All images from Yahoo!

Will Obama's Stimulus Package Boost The Fashion Industry?

The title of the Spring 2009 New York Times Style Magazine is "A Stimulus Package," as in "Please please please spend some or all of your stimulus money on fashions.  Please?  Pretty please?  Ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohplease?"

As a recovering shopaholic (I know, I can't believe it either) in a, shall we say, precarious economy, I feel limited ambition to buy anything, especially the Gainfranco Ferre PVC platform (thanks Imelda):

or the Dior Fertility Fetish heels (thanks Shoebuy):

I used to dress (and shop) as if I were designing a costume, with belts, button covers, hair bows, scarves, jewelry, and even (eek) hats. 

Image from Finishing Tuxes

Some of it was in style, so I feel I should be pardoned for the acid washed denim and the shoulder pads with their own area code.  On the other hand, some of it was just plain peculiar.  Why I thought wearing a stickpin topped by a little puff of mink was a good idea, I'll never fully understand; I prefer to try to forget it ever happened. 

Thanks Cathy's Cubby, for use of the image.

Eventually I grew up and realized that most of the foofy stuff I thought was all that was really more oh-please-not-all-that-again!

So I cut down on my shopping considerably, and once the kids came around it was way more funner to shop for them than for me, so I cut down on my shopping way more.

I know the people at Mrs. O are trying to convince themselves and everyone else that Michelle Obama will breathe new life into the American fashion industry, but I'm not hopeful about that.  I hesitate to believe that what's foremost in Americans' minds is the health of the clothing industry.

The Oscars are tonight.  Does anyone really think that whatever the actresses wear tonight will inspire viewers to dash to the stores tomorrow?

Enter The Fame Contest

Sticky -- please scroll down

Graphic from Transform Destiny

I'm sweetening the pot.  The winner of this contest will also receive a $10 gift certificate for a personalized photo gift item from FeeFiFoto.

You are getting very sleeeepy.  You will enter the FeeFiFoto Fame Contest.

A Contest Unlike Anything You've Ever Seen

It's time once again for the FeeFiFoto Fame Contest.

You've seen contests to win beauty supplies. You've seen contests to win baby supplies. You've seen contests to win computer supplies. Now for something completely different:

Enter this contest to win FAME.

The winner of this contest will have one favorite photograph incorporated into a landing page on FeeFiFoto. Just visit FeeFiFoto, cruise around as long as you like, then come back here and leave me a comment about which item you'd like to see your photo on. (Okay, I know that was ungrammatical, but sometimes you just have to use a preposition to end a sentence with. Oh no! I did it again!)

Anyway.

I'll draw one name at random on March 10th. Once the winner has emailed the photo to me, I'll put it on a graphic on the FeeFiFoto home page.

Come on.  The Academy Awards are tonight.  Grab your own piece of Oscar-caliber fame.

Photo Hunters: Warm

Remember when the weather was warm enough to do things like this?

Yeah, me neither.

See more Photo Hunters here.

PhotoHunt

What's The Difference Between Monkeys And Apes?

Check into Google Hot Trends for a moment and look for links to this week's unfortunate incident involving a pet chimp.  As of Wednesday, you'd find in the top 100 listings:

10. chimpanzee attack
11. chimp attack
17. monkey attack
27. chimp 911 call
36. Travis the chimp
60. chimp kills woman
75. Travis the monkey, and
95. Travis the chimpanzee

Now, aside from the disturbing fact that so much of the internet population seems to be extravagantly interested in an unfortunate attack by an unfortunately domesticated ape on an unfortunate woman, I must point out that one of my pet (no pun intended) peeves appears in this list more than once.

A chimp is an ape.  A chimp is not a monkey.  Apes are not monkeys; nor are monkeys apes.  While apes and monkeys are all primates, apes and monkeys are different.

According to the Smithsonian National Zoological Park (otherwise known as the National Zoo), monkeys and apes both fall in the order of Primates, but there are clear differences between the suborders in which they are classified.  There are some simple ways to recognize the differences, mainly that apes never have tails; monkeys' arms and legs are about the same size, while the arms of apes are longer than their legs; and apes are generally much larger than monkeys.

Hmm.  Lack of tail, long arms, large size.  Yup -- chimps are apes, not monkeys.

Now before you back out of the room slowly so as not to alarm me, let me explain how I know this valuable piece of information.  In college I took an anthropology course from a professor whose most notable physical characteristic was that she appeared to have no right hand.  Rumor had it that her hand had been bitten off by some animal, but there seemed to be no way of confirming this fact.  She ALWAYS kept her hand, or what was left of it, in her pocket, whether writing on the blackboard or juggling a lunch tray in the cafeteria, and I certainly did not have the gall to challenge her to a rousing game of patty cake.

Because my ADD-addled brain can't resist fixating on things that have no meaning, I spent most of my class time trying to spot a bulge or a wiggle in her pocket that might indicate the presence of more than a stump, but throughout the semester I remained thwarted.  Consequently, I recall almost nothing of any substance from this class, except that there are differences between monkeys and apes.

I wonder if there's such thing as a tuition refund on account of overwhelming distraction?

PS: My diatribe has nothing to do with the fact that a zoo chimp bit my toe when I was a baby.  Really.  Nothing.

Thursday Thirteen: Always

1.    I always bring popcorn and drinks when I take Robey and Cleo to the movies.  I carry it in a large black tote bag.  We've only been caught once, when an actual grownup was taking tickets.  He made us leave our stash in the car.

2.    I always remember the anniversary of Paul Revere's ride.

3.    I always used to go shopping on Black Friday, back when I had time, energy and ambition but not much sense.

4.    I always kiss my kids good night before I go to bed and tuck the blankets around them.  It's the perfect time to steal kisses without being yelled at.

5.    I always forget people's names.  I wish everyone had a Times Square-style zipper running across their forehead that would spell out : "Here's who I am and here's how you know me..."

6.    I always read the comics first.

7.    I always stay up too late.

8.   I always feel cold in the winter.  Even pregnant, I was never hot.  Funny story: I didn't go much of anywhere when I was pregnant on account of I felt like I was going to lose it approximately 14 hours of every day, which I usually did, so I stayed close to home.  But in December of 2000, about a month before Cleo was born, I went out to a place that was nice enough to require that I wear real clothes that matched.  I slipped on the dressy winter coat I hadn't worn all season and attempted to button it, but it wouldn't close.  "%?&#@!" I thought, "the $#%& thing shrunk," before remembering that I was eight months pregnant.

        True story.

9.    I always construct a pillow fortress before going to sleep, with specific pillows propping up my neck, back and legs.  It's a strenuous activity, which probably explains why I'm usually wide awake after getting in bed.

10.  I always thought Mrs. Robinson was "sitting on a snowplow on a Sunday afternoon..."  Really it was a sofa, but snowplow always seemed to fit, at least rhythmically.

11.    I always clip articles that I think might interest my friends or family and pop them in the mail.

12.    I always wait until I've finished eating to drink anything.  The bill has been paid, everyone's putting on coats and picking up purses, and I'm slamming down a full glass of iced tea in one continuous gulp.

13.    I always find the dumbest St. Patrick's Day card out there and send it to my sister.

Do you always?  What do you always?

Wordless Wednesday: What's Wrong With This Picture?

Photo from OMG at Yahoo

This is Angelina Jolie.  She's pretty.  But there's something wrong with this photo of her.  Can you find it?

Give up?  I'll tell you what's wrong. 

It's not that Angelina Jolie doesn't look breathtaking in this dress.  She does.

It's not that the adoptive mother of three and the biological mother of three more has no business looking so fabulous.  Well, actually she doesn't, but that's not the point.

The problem with this picture is that the hand she's holding belongs (presumably) to Brad Pitt, the owner of another of the most magnificent faces in the universe, and he's been EDITED OUT.

That's what's wrong with this picture.

Where do I file my complaint?

Is There Mail On Presidents' Day?

Chez FeeFiFotoville the question is really whether there is mail on any day.  Let's review:

Cleo and I were in New York last weekend, so I put a vacation hold on our mail.

Check.

We came back on Sunday and a big pile of mail was delivered on Monday.

Check.

On Tuesday, we got nothing.

On Wednesday, we got bupkes.  So I emailed the postal service and asked, as politely as I could, "Please kind sirs, where oh where is my mail?"

Thursday: big stack 'o' mail in the ol' box.

Friday: mailbox empty and echoing.  So, back to the email, but this time I'm not quite as polite.  I think my exact words were: "Where the blankety blank is my mail?!"

Saturday, the letter I'd left for pickup was taken but nothing was left.  By this time I've called several neighbors and ascertained that THEY all got their mail all week, and no, they didn't get any of mine.  And neither have I.

Today, the mail delivery (or non-delivery) person has the day off.  Maybe he'll just deliver mail to us today and omit everyone else on the route.

Where are all my credit card offers?  Where are all my catalogs?  Where are all my bills?

I'm bereft.  Again.

FeeFiFoto Fame Contest: You'll Be As Famous As That Woman With The Octuplets, Minus The Hate Mail

A Contest Unlike Anything You've Ever Seen

It's time once again for the FeeFiFoto Fame Contest.

You've seen contests to win beauty supplies. You've seen contests to win baby supplies. You've seen contests to win computer supplies. Now for something completely different:

Enter this contest to win FAME.

You'll be as famous as Octuplet Mom, but without all the controversy.

The winner of this contest will have one favorite photograph incorporated into a landing page on FeeFiFoto. Just visit FeeFiFoto, cruise around as long as you like, then come back here and leave me a comment about which item you'd like to see your photo on.  No actual prize will be given -- just the right to see your photo on the home page of my website throughout spring.

I'll draw one name at random on March 10th. Once the winner has emailed the photo to me, I'll put it on a graphic on the FeeFiFoto home page.

You can feature family, pets, kids' artwork or artistic shots -- your choice. A black and white photo of your house on a porcelain plate would be lovely. Once your photo is up on the site, far-flung friends and family can tune in and shout to each other: "Honey! Come quickly!  Little John/ Paul/ George/ Ringo is in an advertisement! Well lock me in an ice cream store and throw away the key!"

Our most recent winner was Sharon from The Artist's Muse, who chose to have her photo displayed on a 54"x70" 100% woven cotton jacquard throw.  The image is actually woven into the fabric.

See your favorite faces featured on beautiful jewelry boxes from FeeFiFoto. Want something funkier?  Choose to have your photo displayed on a wooden puzzle.

Any. Where. You. Choose. Visit FeeFiFoto and tell me what you where you want to see your picture. It's all about YOU.

And remember, the winner of this contest will see his or her photo displayed on FeeFiFoto through the spring. This means that your picture will be seen by thousands of shoppers looking for personalized Mother's Day and Father's Day gifts.

A few simple guidelines:

• Please furnish your email address so I can get in touch with you as soon as you win; this way, your photo can be up on the site within a couple of days
• The photo submitted to me by the winner must be G-rated
• Your entry must state which item from FeeFiFoto you'd like to display your photo
• The prize for this contest is three months of FAME -- no tangible prize will be awarded
• Blog about this contest (and give me a heads up) and I'll give you an extra entry

Good luck everybody!

Read more about the FeeFiFoto Fame Contest

By the way, in case you're wondering why there was no winter Fame Contest, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I forgot.

Photo Hunters: Nautical

This is about as close as we get to nautical: each of my kids built one of these from a kit.  Now we know how they get those ships in those bottles, but we're not telling.  If you want to know, get your own kit!

See more Photo Hunters here.

PhotoHunt

Bar Mitzvah Debriefing

Why, thanks for asking. 

The Bar Mitzvah and party were grand without grandiosity.  Spending the day with one of my favorite people and her family was a pleasure. 

And the Bar Mitzvah boy?  Well, my invitation to Jon Stewart's Bar Mitzvah got lost in the mail, but I'd bet his was somewhat like the one Cleo and I attended last week.  BMB was the center of attention, he knew it, and he milked it for every laugh he could get.  He emoted his Torah portion like an opera singer and at one point he broke into a song from Fiddler on the Roof. 

Funny?  Yes.  Goofy?  A little.  Yet, it wasn't the least bit ridiculous -- more playful and joyful, which is how a Bar Mitzvah should be.

And they gave away some of the coolest yarmulkes I've ever seen, all shiny and copper colored; they matched the copper colored roses on the tables.  Who knew roses came in copper?  At first I thought they were fake.

The Torah portion had to do with the song of praise sung by the Hebrews after they crossed the Red Sea.  BMB's speech had to do with whether miracles have ever occurred, or whether everything that happens should be explained logically without reliance on faith. 

I've always believed in the George Burns version of G-d (which is how we Jews write the word that's spelled gee. oh. dee.)

"Oh, every now and then I work a little miracle just to keep my hand in. My last miracle was the 1969 Mets. Before that, I think you'd have to go back to the Red Sea—aaahh, that was a beauty."

Yet I also believe we're surrounded by miracles.  I'm just not always sure where they come from.  Physics?  Maybe.  Serendipity?  Perhaps.  Coincidence?  Possibly.  G-d?  Could be.  I think the miracles we experience every day, even the many we take for granted, come from a combination of these factors, and from some I haven't identified.  Diana Spechler wittily demonstrated that miracles come in many forms, from the awe inspiring to the everyday:

"1. A miracle is unexpected, but never unpleasantly so. For example, a pigeon relieving itself on your hair when you've just stepped out of the salon does not qualify as a miracle. However, a pigeon relieving itself on a park bench, moments after you've risen from that park bench-now that's a miracle.

*Note: If such a miracle happens to you, do maximize your appreciation of it by telling everyone you see for the rest of the day that you got up from that bench when you did because you "just had a bad feeling." Ill-defined "bad feelings" often portend miracles.

2. If a person seems like he might die, but then he doesn't? Miracle.

3. If you get to a store five minutes before it closes, that's not a miracle, but if you get to a store five minutes before it closes, and Chanukah's about to start in an hour, and you haven't yet gotten your niece a present, and it's the only store in America, well. That's got the M-word written all over it.

4. If something good happens, but you can't figure out why it happened, feel free to call it a miracle. For example, if it rains all night before a wedding, but then clears in the morning just in time, that's a miracle. It's also a sign that the couple will never get a divorce.

*Note: When this type of love miracle occurs, you might overhear the phrase "meant to be."

5. Miracles are always meant to be. That's why they're miracles."

Can I add some to this list?

Corrective lenses; The Beatles; deep sleep; dolphins; Lucille Ball; finding something you'd thought was lost; ice cream; sleeping puppies; oxygen; magnolia trees; a clean bill of health.

I'm sure you have a few favorite miracles.  What are they?

Hello? Tech Support?

On one hand...

It took a week, plus three hours on the phone today, to cajole my All-In-One printer/scanner to communicate with my laptop.  The process included:

• Half a dozen online chat sessions with various HP customer service representatives
• No fewer than 4 (four) software download/uninstall/reinstall sessions
• The disabling of all firewalls and defenses
• Being hung up on (accidentally, but still annoyingly) twice, and
• Two 1.5 hour phone conversations with today's tech support rep (Rusty?  Rudy?  Whozie Poozie?) who took control of the laptop and fixed everything step by step

On the other hand...

I have this nifty cordless headset that allows me to wander around the house and yard unencumbered while carrying on a telephone conversation, thus while Rusty/Rudy/Whozie Poozie was lurking around my computer I:

• made and ate lunch
• tidied my office
• did some dishes, and
• took out the recycling

If he hadn't been in control of my computer I probably would have dropped 300 Entrecards too.

Sometimes I Wonder How Smart She Really Is...: The Things Kids Say

Remember our trip to London, when Cleo and I saw a performance of The Sound of Music and encountered a slight misunderstanding about the meaning of the phrase "her dead father" ?

On this trip we saw a performance of Mary Poppins on Broadway.  Now, on Amazon the book Mary Poppins, by P. L. Travers, ranks 13,914th in popularity.  By contrast, the 25th anniversary DVD of the Disney film ranks at #73 among movies.  Quite a difference.  The Tale of Despereaux comes in at #867 in books, while the various books in the Twilight Saga appear at places 2, 3, 6 and 12.

So it's safe to say that not too many kids or adults are reading the original Mary Poppins books, and that our main impression of the famous nanny everyone wants to employ, even though she never gives references and makes it a practice never to explain anything, comes from the work of Walt Disney and Julie Andrews.  Therefore, any characters who appear in the books but not the movie are going to seem foreign to much of the theater audience.  So I was preparing to answer obscure questions from Cleo regarding unfamiliar characters and events, although she should have been nearly as well informed as I was, since she read a couple of the books last year.

But I wasn't prepared for this.

In one scene Mary Poppins and the children visit Mrs. Corry, who runs a magical sweet shop, which in the book is depicted by this rather ordinary illustration:

This and all other photos from Jim Hill Media, except as otherwise indicated

...but in the musical is portrayed much more whimsically, possibly to inspire the audience to rush to the lobby during intermission and buy armloads of candy and treats:

And Mrs. Corry, who in the book is a widow dressed all in black, appears in the play as a voluptuous Caribbean woman in a bright orange and red confection of a dress with a bustle made of cupcakes and a tall orange headdress:

 

During the sweet shop scene Cleo turned to me and asked in a whisper if this was the same lady with the hat who'd sung for the President.

I had to think about it for a moment. 

Caribbean woman? 

Singing for the President? 

What president?  The story takes place in Edwardian England (even though Queen Victoria inexplicably and disturbingly appears in one scene).

It took me a second to realize which lady Cleo meant.  Have you figured it out?  Here she is:

 

Photo from The Daily Voice

Maybe we should lay off the Julie Andrews for a while...

Buh Bye

Cleo and I are heading to New York for four days, to attend the Bar Mitzvah of the son of my oldest and dearest friend, visit with Artypants, and do some sightseeing.  We might check in; we might not.  Who knows?  In any case, take care of yourselves and we'll see you when we get back.