mrs white's unsolicited fashion advice for today's youth

Tip #57:  Leggings are not the same thing as pants, thus hardly interchangeable.  

Under short skits, long tunics or worn as pajamas, they are fine.  However - and regardless of how thick they are, what color they are, or whether or not they contain knee pads - a pair of leggings are not a suitable replacement for a pair of pants.  NICE GIRLS COVER THEIR BUMS IN PUBLIC!

See?  Tyra Banks rocks the leggings-as-pants look, and she's a bit of a lunatic. You really want to take fashion advice from a lunatic?

parents, please - a few small things that you really need never mention at parent/teacher conferences:

Your child often reads the books I've lent him while sitting on the toilet.

The whens and whys and hows of your divorce

Your child's former best friend (and my current student) has recently turned into a total hussy and will sleep with almost anyone.

You think that reading is a silly waste of time.

Let's just say you wouldn't be opposed to the idea of trading money and/or goods for an A in my class.

Your recent graduate is adjusting quite nicely to college, and applying those hard-earned English skills honed at ___ High School by writing and selling essays to her friends for $50 a pop. 

You think all elective courses - regardless of what they are - are silly, unimportant "blow-offs," and the fact that your child is not earning an A in one means that the teacher is "ridiculous."   (I'd particularly recommend you avoid saying this if the teacher to whom you are venting happens to also teach elective courses.)

The particulars of your child's fairly benign, yet still sort of gross medical condition

That your child thinks I'm cute

That you think I'm cute

Thank you.  That is all.

desperate times

No doubt, things are rough.  

I just read the most deepressing book, hurricanes are raging, politicians are lying, writers are dying, and I hear the economy melted yesterday.  Yep, the times but they be dark.  It's enough to make a gal change into her pj's at 4 o'clock in the afternoon and drown it all in ice cream and puppies.  

And since I can't (and let's face it - wouldn't) share the ice cream, I'll at least share the puppies:

So cheer up, sunshine.  Tomorrow's another day!  

(Unless, of course, it's not.  But maybe let's not go there, yes? Maybe let's just keep looking at the puppies, love...)

(Via)

things i'm fairly certain cease to be cute immediately upon turning thirty (because it's gonna happen in 28 days whether i like it or not):

Pigtails

95% of MTV's programming

Instant message speak, unless used ironically

Absolutely anything Hello Kitty, even if meant ironically

Hello Kitty tombstone? Not cute.

Jumping up and down and clapping one's hands with glee

Stripping to earn money for college/child care/retirement*

Not having a retirement plan

Techno music

Raves

Public Drunkenness

Hysterics

Sweatpants with suggestive words printed across the bum

Calling one's own butt juicy? So incredibly not cute.

Aimlessness

Flashing your rack at a NASCAR rally*

Bisexual experimentation*

Body glitter

Midriff tops

Tramp stamps*

Biblical quotes on your crack = whack.

Training to be a Justin Timberlake back-up dancer (esp. when the living room blinds are drawn and your entire neighborhood is getting the free show from your big picture window)

Angst

Tantrums

Freckles**

*Not that I have first-hand knowledge of this, mind you. I'm just saying what the good Lord loves to hear.

**Shit.

in the interest of public good, a scenario

Let's just say, only hypothetically speaking of course, you were hungry for breakfast this morning but didn't have any breakfast-y food.

And let's just say that when you opened the refrigerator and noticed that there were still eight or so chocolate-y birthday cupcakes left over from the weekend you decided that two of them would make a perfectly appropriate in-the-car-on-the-way-to-work meal.

And let's just assume, while we're still keeping it hypothetical over here, that while you're eating those two cupcakes as you’re traveling westward at upwards near 80 miles an hour on an anonymous interstate highway you happen to get black cupcake-y bits lodged firmly between your teeth and smooshed snugly in the nether regions of your pants.

(Now, mind you, this particular event would never ever happen to yours truly, seeing as I'm so incredibly health conscious and would never ever consider eating two cupcakes for breakfast or drinking a Stake and Shake milkshake for dinner, but in the interest of the common good I can travel to imagination land just this once.)

So, I’d imagine you're probably sitting there, black-toothed and chocolate-y crotched, and wondering what you should do, right?

Well, here’s what I wouldn’t recommend.

Facing the absence of dental floss, you probably shouldn’t decide to use a stray paper clip found in your purse to pick your teeth, because you just might hit a giant pothole, gouge your gums, and then promptly begin to bleed.

You also should most likely refrain from pouring water from a forgotten, half-drunk water bottle in your nether region to try and get the smooshed chocolate-y bits rinsed out, leaving your crotch cold and wet and unlikely to dry before arriving to work.

And when you do arrive to work, gums black and bleeding and crotch chocolate-y and wet, and someone asks, “What on Earth happened?,” you should probably just fess up, because a sarcastic response along the lines of, “Well, clearly I need to lay off the Skoal and see someone about my incontinence problem,” will most likely be greeted with only a blank stare instead of polite laugher, leaving both of you feeling rather uncomfortable and unable to maintain eye contact.

Furthermore, your co-worker will think you wee yourself, which is really not a nice thing to have someone think about you.

(Again, this would never ever happen to me. I’m far too well-adjusted to find myself in such a state. But you know me. I have quite the imagination, and I do so like to be helpful.)