I Loathe Lanyards

I wear a lanyard at work. 

I hate the damn thing. 

I've received a couple of them at work as gifts/prizes/unsuccessful motivational tools. I dutifully stuffed each of them in my desk drawer to find it months later, wonder aloud "Why did I keep this piece of crap?", and throw it in the trash. Or stick it in some unsuspecting victim's mailbox in the office. 

I've spent my own hard-earned cash to purchase several different ones, hoping the pretty beads would somehow compensate for its lameness, but, alas, I persist in hating the damn thing. 

I hate how my keys and ID go thunk against me with each step I take.

I hate how it makes a really nice outfit look so damed proletarian. 

I hate how it's basically a leash, and I'm required to wear it. 

I even hate the word lanyard. It is impossible to sound sexy and cool while saying that word. Try it. You will fail.

Now, I understand the reasoning for wearing one at work - identification, safety, keeping me from looking TOO stylish, blah-blah-blah ....  I know that no amount of fussing on my part will make the lanyard of wretchedness go away. I accept the futility in trying to throw off these shackles, but that doesn't mean I have get all rah-rah about it and hop on the pro-lanyard bandwagon, which appears, by the way, to be a very crowded bandwagon, indeed.  

"Stupid Stuff I Found on the Internets 

as Evidence of the Crowded Conditions 

on the Pro-Lanyard Bandwagon"

OR

"I Had No Idea It Was This Bad Out There"

The Wrist Lanyard:

When Dangling Crap Around Your Neck Just Isn't Enough

It's dark out! 

Where'd my arm go?! 

Oh, THERE it is. 

Man, that was a close one!

And here I hated the thunk of keys against me.

Imagine the sensation of being whacked with a bottle of 

Lipton Green Tea with every step.

Or if you had to run wearing this.

Even our friends at Coach have stepped into the lanyard arena.

It's extra-pricey and comes with bonus dangly crap!

I also found many sites selling products to make your own lanyards, which reminded me of the only lanyard-related thing I've ever truly loved ...  Billy Collins reading his poem "The Lanyard".

Back in the late-nineteenth century, the lanyard was originally used to carry a jack-knife, so you'd be ready to whip it out if you happened to need to stab someone that day. Interesting to know if you ever end up on Jeopardy! and have Lanyard Lore as a category. Or if you travel back in time and happen to have your lanyard on.

If IKEA Nomenclature Were a Jeopardy! Category and I Were on the Show

Me: I'll take IKEA Nomenclature for 100, Alex.

Mr. Alex Trebek: The name of the most everyday of IKEA's everyday line of dishes and linens.

Me: Um, what is 365+?

Mr. Alex Trebek: Correct! 

Me: Great! Let's try IKEA Nomenclature for 200.

Mr. Alex Trebek: The styrofoam-peanut free way IKEA packages its assemble-it-your-damn-self furniture.

Me: That's easy. What is flat-pack, Alex?

Mr. Alex Trebek: Yes, you're right again!

Me: Wow, I'm on a bit of a roll here, Alex. Gimme IKEA Nomenclature for 300. 

Mr. Alex Trebek: Mammut.

Me: Hmm, what is a line of brightly-colored, polypropylene bedroom furniture for children?

Mr. Alex Trebek: Correct again! You certainly know your IKEA!  And that's a lovely sweater you're wearing, by the way. What's next?

Me: Back off, Alex. I'm married, and you're old enough to be my dad. Just act like a professional and hit me with IKEA Nomenclature for 400.

Mr. Alex Trebek: Of course. The tool IKEA shoppers can totally rock.

Me: What's an 'effing Allen wrench?

Mr. Alex Trebek: Yep! Care to sweep the category?

Me: Don't mind if I do. Bring on IKEA Nomenclature for 500, Alex.

Mr. Alex Trebek: The name of the company the makes the big ass fans that keep the air moving in your local IKEA's warehouse.

Me: Oh, it's gonna take more than that to stop me, Alex. What is Big Ass Fans?

Mr. Alex Trebeck: I stand in awe of your highly-specialized brand of trivial knowledge.

Me: I know. I get a lot of that.

What Are YOU Craving?

Here's a little quiz for you. 

Each item on the list below is the name of an actual product. 

Your task is to decide whether each one is ...

A.  a type of candy, or

B.  a sex toy

Pencils up!  

Let's begin ...

1.  Big Hunk

2.  Curly Wurly

3.  Slap Stix

4.  Slo-Poke

5.  Astro Blaster

6.  Wack-o-Wax

7.  Cherryhead

8.  Jungle Jollies

9.  French Chew

10.  Chick-O-Stick

11.  Tweety Gigglehead

12.  Hard Mint Balls

13.  Hotlix

14.  Big Jim

15.  Swedish Fish

16.  Idaho Spud

17.  Tinglerz

Let's go through the answers and see how you did, shall we?

1.  Big Hunk - It's a candy bar - chocolate w/ peanuts and nougat. I hear it's pretty big. Size isn't everything, though.

2.  Curly Wurly - Caramel and chocolate. Sounds delicious, but I kind of want there to be a sex toy out there with that name too. A brightly-colored one that spins super fast.

3.  Slap Stix - They're caramel pops with a twist of banana. This had such kink potential, too. Such a waste.

4.  Slo-poke - You knew it was candy all along, but you'll never look at one the same way again. 

5.  Astro Blaster - "This really works! Soft foam rocket and candy-filled launcher." So dirty. So wrong. So taken out of context.

6.  Wack-O-Wax - Spending Valentine's alone this year? Look elsewhere for help, Buddy. This is just the company that makes those wax lips, fangs, etc. (If you pictured Kevin Spacey in American Beauty when you read the name, though, let's just say you're not alone.)

7.  Cherryhead - They're like Lemonheads, but cherry. 

8.  Jungle Jollies - It's a chewy taffy, available in many exotic flavors, but, with a name like that, it could be SO much more. Sigh.

9.  French Chew - It's just taffy, but all French things sound a bit kinky, n'est-ce pa?

10.  Chick-O-Stick - What does the "O" stand for? I don't know. It's some peanut and coconut thing.  Looks revolting... like a piece of fried chicken, which really has nothing to do with candy or sex toys. Nor ever should. 

11.  Tweety Gigglehead - It's a sucker with Tweety Bird's head on top. What'd you think it was, ya big perv? (Actually, I think it sounds like a vibrator Charlotte on Sex and the City would buy if the store were all out of the Rabbit.)

12.  Hard Mint Balls - Actually, they're called Bob's Hard Mint Balls. I know the mint part kind of gives it away, but I so respect Bob for puttin' his name and the words hard and balls together like that.  Now that takes balls.

13.  Hot Lix - No, it's the not a line of flavored body oils. It's just a candy company from Grover Beach, CA. They make suckers with bugs in 'em.

14.  Big Jim - This thing is twelve inches long and sports a girth so big that you can barely get your mouth around it! And it's a candy cane.

15.  Swedish Fish - You knew it was candy, but the Swedes are even kinkier than the French, and we all know it.

16. Idaho Spud - It's candy, but, for my money, it has just about the worst candy name AND the worst sex toy name imaginable. 

17.  Tinglerz - I bought some at the store tonight.  The grocery store, that is.

Censorship: Yea or Nay?

So, my mom brought over a gift for my daughter - the Simplicity Patterns Halloween catalog from last fall. I remember that when I was little, Mom used to get the outdated pattern catalogs at the fabric store for about a buck, and I adored them. I would pore over them, looking at the pictures and loving the fact that I had in my possession this book that you usually could only see at the store. It was cool and unbelievably special to have one of these catalogs, so I totally get why my daughter loves the thing.

Here's the deal, though. 

I'm thinking about tearing out one of the pages. 

And my liberal, don't-shelter-your-child-from-reality panic alarm is blaring away at my sudden desire to commit censorship. 

The page in question features a collection of "adult" costumes they call "Short and Sassy". To their credit, the folks at Simplicity (all of whom I picture as sweet, elderly women in embroidered sweatshirts, by the way, which makes this all even more disturbing) do stop short of printing "Costumes for Coitus" or "Fornicatin' Fun" at the top of the page, but that's so obviously what these get-ups are. They're designed to either spice up the doldrums in a relationship that's cooled or to ensure a hot one-nighter with a complete stranger you meet at a party and on whose website you show up in a sex tape wearing said costume. Or portions of it, at least.

Is is wrong of me to want to censor this little bit of Frederick's of Hollywood that has shown up among the toddler teddy bear and fairy princess costumes? My daughter has her whole life ahead her, filled with media images like this to try to reconcile with her own feelings about what it means to be beautiful. Can I just spare her from this one page?

Curse You, Jacknobber!

I have been mulling around the idea of crackin' wise about a product I found on the Origins website; it's called the Jacknobber. 

Behold the Great and Powerful Jacknobber

It's a "stress relieving tool" they sell for eleven bucks, and, while it probably does a heckuva job at working the knots out of one's aching muscles, its porn star name and number of "heads" in various sizes just make it all look super-kinky to me. I was all set to blog about it and make a bunch of sophomoric references to gettin' my nobber jacked and stuff like that, but then this happened ...

I was at my parents' house for my daughter's birthday party. We were all getting ready to go out sledding, and I was walking down the stairs in my snowpants. (Yes, I am an adult woman and have snowpants. I am also insulted by your snickering.) Anyhow, said snowpants are longer than normal pants and made of slippery material. Since I tend to be all cool and gazelle-like as I move through this world, I managed to step on the back of my pant leg, slip, and do a big Cartoon Network-style WHAMMO in the front entry. 

I have a bad arm and shoulder to begin with (a LONG story, which most of you know already...), so, of course, I take the brunt of the fall with that hand and arm. It was that instant sort of pain where you're not completely sure that what just happened really did happen but suddenly feel an urgent need to throw up. 

Pain dissipates into dull ache. Swelling ensues. Muscles tighten up on entire left side of body. Arrangements for substitute for next day are made. 

So, as I sit here with my muscles knotted and sore, I find myself wishing that I had one of those Jacknobber deals to help me out. I believe that's called irony. Or poetic justice. Or something like that.

Pillow Talk

Also from the CB2 catalog, the Credo Pillow ($21.95 + shipping and handling). I would never actually allow something with the word soulful on it in my home, but this little throw-Chiclet does give me an idea ...

For those of us who are struggling to put together a mission statement at work, I think this is a capital idea! We could put our words on t-shirts instead of pillows - can't promote sleeping in class, yanno.  (And I just love the clean graphic quality of this, too!)

The ten words I'd put on my own personal credo pillow (in no particular order):

1.  open

2.  curious

3.  balanced

4.  sincere

5.  literate

6.  light-hearted

7.  striving

8.  connected

9.  passionate

10. fascinated

Not that I manage to be all those things every day, but they're what I shoot for. (See #7.) Today, for example, I think I only managed to muster up about two of these. Briefly.

Anyone else wanna share their pillow words?

Clearly

This is NOT the table to buy if you're redecorating a nudist colony's dining room.