I'm Very Jolli

Truth be known, I haven't eaten here. Still, Jollibee is my favorite fast food restaurant. And for a woman who hasn't eaten at a major chain for a decade, this is...well I don't know what it is really. A confession?

Anyway, check out this link: http://www.jollibee.com.ph/products.htm. I love the name Chickenjoy. Passing one of the stores (there are 10) in Los Angeles, I actually thought this place was a film set.

Oh and good news: Kids will be seeing a lot more of Jolibee in school through Jollibee's Values Education Program. Pretty please (with Jolli on top) sign me up!

Me & The Peanut

An Opening In The Insensitivity Department

This morning I was jarred into realizing how ridiculous, if not downright racist, it is that disposable bandages are "flesh" colored, and that hue is a pasty pink. Clearly, so few people -- if any -- have skin to match. In fact, if you do you might want to see a dermatologist.

The reason this came to mind was that I was behind a very dark skinned black man at the post office and he had two "flesh" colored Band Aids on his head. They did not blend in. In fact, they looked so shockingly out of place that some of the cartoon character designs would have probably been less distracting, less curious looking.

I think if they can make bandages in all sorts of shapes and patterns, why can't we have various shades? Like foundation, shouldn't we be able to choose our perfect match? I realize that those of us with freckles really pose a problem, so I am willing to be somewhat forgiving. But really, If someone has a blemish or cuts themselves shouldn't they be able to attempt to hide the fact that they need to heal? Or if we aren't going to hide it, at least give us something better than the horrible pigment dubbed "flesh". Shout it out to the world, then, but just don't do it with the color of a can of old salmon.

Multi-Media

My husband Jeffrey is reading with the TV on mute. If I asked him about it he would undoubtedly offer some explanation about waiting for a show but I honestly think he finds the dancing, flickering light comforting. Like an animated night light.

When my sister and I were kids we had a babysitter whom I deemed a "freak" because he would read and listen to the radio at the same time and, obviously, normal people would find this confusing if not impossible.

What would Marshall McLuhan say?

Bad Luck Does Come In Threes

Today the baby had a cold, my husband had food poisoning and my mother-in-law, while helping babysit, tripped and fell on her face, smashing her lip and chipping a tooth in the process. And yet I am in a good mood. Just another wacky day, and one hell of a TGIF.