Blue Gal's "Hello Kitty!" Airline Travel Death Watch

Okay, death has nothing to do with it. Except some of this stuff makes me wanna die, and other parts make me wanna kill.

Here's the deal: For the past two years or so, every single time I fly from point A to my final destination, somewhere in some airport or airplane, I encounter a grown woman in possession and use of a "Hello Kitty!" consumer item.

This does not count the grown women walking around with "Hello, Kitty!" Platinum Plus Visa Card in their wallets. Or any grown women wearing any of the FIFTY-ONE different varieties of grown-women "Hello Kitty!" underpants.

I have to confess that there are people in my own household who have been known to wear "Hello, Kitty!" underpants. Their ages are 3 and 5. And they received same as a gift (NOT from their mother) to celebrate successful potty-training. That to me seems entirely appropriate.

On the way to Washington, the woman in the window seat in front of my row was using a "Hello Kitty!" CD player. Grown woman.

I have, in more than one airport, seen grown women talking on a "Hello Kitty!" cell phone. The following is not for the feint of heart:



I call myself a nice person. I call myself a peace-loving Quaker.

It makes me want to kill.

On the way back to Alabama I thought about this post and despaired that I had not kept an eye out for "Hello Kitty!". THAT MINUTE a grown woman with a "Hello Kitty!" backpack appeared. I am not sure whether to count her as an actual "Hello Kitty!" Airline Travel Death Watch successful find, because she had a young daughter with her, and it may have been the daughter's backpack, but the fact remains that the grown woman was wearing the backpack her own self, so I count that as a yes.

I have been told that the "Hello, Kitty!" phenomenon is primarily generated among Asian women, but none of the "Hello, Kitty!" Airline Travel Death Watch finds have been Asian, and I know several Asian women who have far too much maturity and taste to have succumbed to same. For some reason, for me, it does seem to be an airline travel phenomenon. Perhaps, just perhaps, these women are saving their "Hello, Kitty!" items as a talisman against hijacking. I really have no other explanation.

But I do know that the Asian phonomenon is exactly why Pete T. puts a "Hello, Kitty!" sticker on the back of his guitar when he tours Japan:

Pete Townshend Smashes Guitar 7-6-02
Uploaded by Natters515

Update: Thanks to reader "Ed" who shared this, which is wrong on so many levels:



I'm happy to report that now that I am playing find the "Hello, Kitty!" item as a game, I find my own desire to use extreme violence against women with "Hello, Kitty!" consumer items has diminished.

I will not assume any responsibility for my actions should I encounter a grown woman wearing the $7,500 Neiman-Marcus Glam Kitty Diamond Silouette Necklace. Even if she assures me she got free shipping.

Gentlemen, I hate to do this, but in service to the Revolution, I feel you must watch this two minute video. If we do not stop the menace that is "Hello, Kitty!", this could be the venue of your next sexual encounter. (And yes, you kinky boy, at the minus-one-seventeen minute mark is your next partner.):



May I presume there is not enough Viagra in the world?




.

Happy Birthday, Sherry of After the Bridge!

So I really wanted to do something special for Sherry, because she is a very devoted reader and commenter to this blog. Since I know she appreciates my writing and um, humor, I wrote this especially for her. Please go to her blog and wish her a very happy day!

I wanted to make a blog cake for Sherry. I knew trying to slice a cake on the internet would get really messy, and would interrupt my morning Scotch, so I went with cupcakes, and of course they had to be Hello Kitty cupcakes, cuz they're so fucking cute.

I searched on Google for Hello Kitty cupcake ideas and holy shit I could have taken the whole morning just to browse the endless stream of freakish Asian cute sugar overload. 210,000 hits in .24 seconds? Fuck me. And even if you're making these for a three year old, get over it: every one of them looked like shit. We have lots of Hello Kitty items cluttering up my fucking house, so I cut out a Hello Kitty (head only, DECAPITATION, PERFECT!) from my Hello, Kitty! social events calendar, fuck you very much. I tried to find one that was the size of a muffin-size cake top, so I could just paste it on a vending machine muffin, but I failed, so I dug out the Hello Kitty Shrinky Dinks kit and baked one in my Hello Kitty toaster oven, too small to stick my head in, but whatever.

One website suggested I purchase white fondant (Sure.), roll this out and with a sharp knife cut 39 (forever, Sherry!) Hello Kitty heads out. They also suggested I use mini M&M's (split in half to get the oblong shape, beyotch) for the eyes and nose. I am also supposed to dye some of the fondant pink and use a flower shape cutter to put by her ear. For the centre of the flower, I'm supposed to have 39 yellow mini M&Ms available, fucking A!

After assembling these, I am to wake up and realize I had spent two hours with mother fucking FONDANT. What the hell was I thinking? So then I made the cupcakes (just basic chocolate cake mix, because hey, why go over the top at this point?) and iced them with canned icing, dyed pink from the blood streaming from my eyes. I put my imaginary fondant Hello Kitty heads on top of the cupcakes, and finally gave up and just used Sharpie pen for the whiskers. Fuck it.

They looked like shit and because of the Sharpie Pen, school paste, and blood they were completely inedible. I had to set fire to them, but that made them look like a kind of cool art installation, you know, Hello Kitty Cupcakes of Death. Perfect!

Happy Birthday Sherry and much love!

Happy Birthday, @LizzWinstead!

This post was originally written for another amazing woman, but it fits Lizz Winstead, co-creator of The Daily Show and let's face it, Goddess, just as well. - bg

I wanted to make a blog cake for Lizz Winstead. I knew trying to slice a cake on the internet would get really messy, and would interrupt my morning Scotch, so I went with cupcakes, and of course they had to be Hello Kitty cupcakes, cuz they're so fucking cute.

I searched on Google for Hello Kitty cupcake ideas and holy shit I could have taken the whole morning just to browse the endless stream of freakish Asian cute sugar overload. 210,000 hits in .24 seconds? Fuck me. And even if you're making these for a three year old, get over it: every one of them looked like shit. We have lots of Hello Kitty items cluttering up my fucking house, so I cut out a Hello Kitty (head only, DECAPITATION, PERFECT!) from my Hello, Kitty! social events calendar, fuck you very much. I tried to find one that was the size of a muffin-size cake top, so I could just paste it on a vending machine muffin, but I failed, so I dug out the Hello Kitty Shrinky Dinks kit and baked one in my Hello Kitty toaster oven, too small to stick my head in, but whatever.

One website suggested I purchase white fondant (Sure.), roll this out and with a sharp knife cut 39 (forever, Lizz!) Hello Kitty heads out. They also suggested I use mini M&M's (split in half to get the oblong shape, beyotch) for the eyes and nose. I am also supposed to dye some of the fondant pink and use a flower shape cutter to put by her ear. For the centre of the flower, I'm supposed to have 39 yellow mini M&Ms available, fucking A!

After assembling these, I am to wake up and realize I had spent two hours with mother fucking FONDANT. What the hell was I thinking? So then I made the cupcakes (just basic chocolate cake mix, because hey, why go over the top at this point?) and iced them with canned icing, dyed pink from the blood streaming from my eyes. I put my imaginary fondant Hello Kitty heads on top of the cupcakes, and finally gave up and just used Sharpie pen for the whiskers, because, fuck it.

They looked like shit and because of the Sharpie Pen, school paste, and blood they were completely inedible. I had to set fire to them, but that made them look like a kind of cool art installation, you know, Hello Kitty Cupcakes of Death. Perfect!

Happy Birthday Lizz. Those of you who want to wish her a happy birthday should retweet this post, because the real Governor of Illinois is Blogho.

Blue Gal: Tastemonger?

Oh here's a comment to bring to the top:

Oh, ha ha ha. Very satirical. Hello Kitty cute, Cute bad. ...If you're that rabid about it, why not find out where these people live and kill them? After all, if we on the left aren't bitching and complaining about other people's tastes etc., then we're not breathing. Calvin, hip. Hello Kitty, bad. DarkBlack satirical, New Yorker bad. Who gives a flying fuck what you and the rest of the tastemongers think?

TASTEMONGER? WHO, ME?

Thank you, commenter, for proving there are those with greater and more complex anger issues than mine. And I regret my insufficient explanations regarding the Hello Kitty Death Watch.

Hello Kitty Death Watch is reserved specifically for those times in which I engage in airline travel. I find it fascinating that almost every time I fly, I encounter a grown woman wearing or using a Hello, Kitty! item as if it might be a talisman against terrorist attack.

Hello Kitty Death Watch is specifically directed at adult Caucasian women using a Hello Kitty garment, tote, jewelry item, or electronic device, such as cell phone or CD player, while travelling in an airport. Small children wearing a Hello Kitty backpack do not count. My own daughters have worn Hello, Kitty undiepanties, and since they were under the age of five at the time, I found that entirely appropriate. I do not find a grown woman managing her finances with this tool


which, yes, is not a photoshop, to be exempt from my, as you put it, tastemongering. America would be a far better place, in my tastemongering opinion, if those adults choosing to infantilize their financial transactions would grow the frak up. Ben Bernanke take note.

No, I am not about to "kill" anyone with those in their checkbook. And it's true, I really am not passing judgment between either of the young females below:

because in my estimation, both of these young ladies will eventually learn to wear more grown-up attire:

The Hello Kitty Motor Vehicle Registry Death Watch

Loyal readers to this humble blog are well aware of its Hello Kitty Airline Travel Death Watch. Yesterday this phenomenon appeared at the Motor Vehicle Registry in the state where I now reside.

Yes, the good news is I am now a registered voter with a valid Blue State driver's license, and the trusty minivan also breathed a sigh of relief to have some very nice Midwestern license plates of its very own. The Alabama plates, well, some days it's embarrassing enough that they say Alabama on them but then they had to go off with the whole God Bless America license plate and please don't get me started.

The whole process of becoming a legal Midwesterner took less than 35 minutes with virtually no wait time. Thank you, Midwest Motor Vehicle Registry People.

But about the adult woman after me at the vehicle registry. (I have more forgiveness in these matters if the woman in question is under, say, 22. This one was maturing fast into Oil of Olay territory and I should know.) She was wearing these Hello Kitty seashell flower earring thingys AND looking to register her car.

It was so confusing.

Was she forced to wear these as punishment for some vicious crime?

Or perhaps she was wearing these in the hope that they would disguise her horrible guilt?

Could it be that not everyone in the Great Midwest had heard about the thing called "Good Taste in Jewelry"?

Oh yah, that last one there, you betcha.

[It's high time, my friends, to make Hello Kitty Death Watch a Blogger post label...]

There is video of this Hello Kitty Wedding.

But you'll have to click the image to go see it. I was afraid the embed code might melt my laptop. They decorated the flowers in his white carnation boutonniere and her bouquet to look Hello Kitty! too.

h/t Tacky Weddings, of course. Even though the last time I linked them I was accused of being a slut shamer.



Hello, Kitty. Are those genuine Swarovski crystals on your choker?

Still another reason to leave Alabama...

No. Seriously. A Hello Kitty vanity plate parked in the lot of Whole Foods, and she had on the same exact car a Code Pink Ribbon? You can't mix Code Pink and Hello Kitty. Can you?



Next thing you know, someone will be marketing Hello Kitty/Strawberry Shortcake/Care Bear underbust corsets for the into-infantilism sex worker. Oh, nevermind.

Euclid alone has Hello Kitty's stare

Let all who knit this Kitty hold their peace,
And lay them prone upon the earth and cease
Their own hold upon their yarn, and while they compare
cuteness, confiscate their stash and where
Were wools in skein and cone; let sheep
Rise up and yield no fiber for those peeps
who dare knit a Hello Kitty for a victim's wear.

O blinding hour, O holy, terrible day,
When needle first struck yarn to knit a kitty!
Wearing such is not cute, ironic, witty,
Or proper flaunting of le Perez Hilton gay.
And the knitting of such saccharin schmaltz is shitty.

Perhaps in writing this I am too brave.
I assure you Edna's rolling in her grave.
And since her poems are fine, and this is tripe,
I'll admit my bad verse sucks this tailpipe:

tailpipe courtesy Zaius.

I have some explaining to do...

Whoops.

Okay, okay. A couple of weeks ago this enormous envelope arrives in the mail from my friend L.U. Inside it the biggest ass Hello Kitty Birthday Card possible. L.U., a woman after my own heart in so many ways, suggested I use it as a luggage tag when travelling by air, in keeping with the Hello Kitty Airline Travel Death Watch. I think that would be breaking le rules, so I stuck it above my knitting swatch board. She can watch over my knitting samples.

I have a visiting nurse arriving at 11 this morning to arrange for some housework help, especially with laundry since stairs are completely out for me for the next couple weeks. So's driving, and the nurse is available to help with that, too, thank goodness. I hope to be back helping out Crooks and Liars later this weekend. I really miss that.

Thanks for all the kind words and messages of support. The blogosphere is family. I love you guys. Thanks.

Fran / BG

On Immigration

I love this quote from an immigration comment thread:

illegals suck we should have fucking sank the mayflower and anything that came close to our homeland

Hokay so while I failed in my trip back from Chicago to encounter anyone using a Hello, Kitty! item (Chicagoans clearly treat "Hello, Kitty!" like a pothole, avoiding HK items with deft precision) but I did encounter in the airport burger bar a couple travellers from North Carolina. They were businessmen and chatty.

The chattier of the two, with no warning, looked at me. "What's your name?"

I replied, [in the alternate universe where I say what's on my quasi-Aspergers mind]


"I'm a damn fine pilot. This Polynesian flight attendant will serve your drinks while I crash our sabotaged plane. Good-bye."

But of course I didn't. The conversation might be bloggable. Heh.

So we got to chatting and he brought up the fact that he and his partner HAVE to learn SOME Spanish for WORK and he's too old and besides, THE MAJORITY of Spanish-speaking people here are ILLEGALS.

I looked at him like his face was made of grapes. "I do not have statistics at my immediate disposal, but you are dead wrong about that "majority" business. I am sure of that."

He. Caved. Told me I had a good head on my shoulders, whatever that means. You mean, like Holly Goodhead? I'm her, too.



So these guys work for a HUGE multinational corporation. Offices in Germany, here, around the whole world. And these two guys supervise or sell or buy or something only the packaging for some of the products this company makes. And their specific office is located in North Carolina.

I ask innocently, because my awareness of the importance of manufacturing and small industry has been increased of late, "are the packages that you deal with as managers manufactured in North Carolina, indeed, are they manufactured in the US?"

"Aw, noooo. They sure aren't."

I stifle the urge to ask them if they get their packaging at Wal Mart. Because I know, and they know I know, and I know they know I know, because I've got a good head on my shoulders, exactly where their packaging is manufactured.

We do not have a Hispanic problem in America. We do not have a problem with "illegals."

We have a white problem. We have a problem with idiots. Our problem is whites who are easily manipulated by Lou Dobbs or any of the GOP white guys on the teevee sayin' that brown people are takin' away their jobs and they listen to Lou Dobbs on a teevee that they bought at Wal Mart, not thinking about the cheaply paid and maybe not paid at all "yellow" people (don't mention slave labor it's impolite) who made it... no not one bit.

And they don't think about the so-called liberal world we live in where everybody gets a batchelor's degree in business so they can be the next Lou Dobbs, and no one is trained to make packaging for anything, because, in America, everyone can get an entry-level banking job and just coast and then Mom and Dad can be proud sonny wears a tie to work. They do wear ties at Best Buy, selling made in China teevees, right?

Immmigration is a huge problem. Sure. But the problem lies not with "them," folks. In so many ways, it lies with us.

Shameless thievery

Image stolen from (I added the text to their photoshop)the right wing blog (wow, it's been a while since I've seen MALKIN blogrolled, but I keep thinking, it would be kinda cool to change the entire Crooks homepage to "all Malkin, all the time" for April Fool's Day) "Are We Lumberjacks?".

Hello Kitty Airline Travel Death Watch tomorrow. I'll ring you if I catch any adult woman wearing a Hello Kitty item, while I fly across the country to get my kids.

Careful with that hit counter...

On the very day I kill Hello, Kitty! I take a peek at my hit counter ...Coincidence?

I was thinking I might get to 500 K by the start of the year, just as a kind of game, but I think not. It's not ever been about the hits (except this post, ha) and anyway, I hear blogging is dead now (double ha).

Blogging from the plane.

12:55 Pacific Time. Until we take off. Then my laptop has to be stowed.

If we crash I was in seat 6F on Southwest Flight 749, Seattle to Phoenix. Blue Gal was said to LOVE wifi.

4:44 Pacific Time. By the time I get to Phoenix, I'll be blogging. Okay the deal in Seattle was pay eight bucks for a full day of internet and they have live wifi at the in-airport playground which has an ajacent family restroom clean enough to actually use.



Phoenix has free wifi but you can't access blogs like Balls and Walnuts because PHX Airport thinks it's porn. (Well, he does love the camel toes.) No playground, not even a cheap plastic slide in the waiting area. I'll pay eight bucks for the playground internet, thank you very much.

Observations on my journey. WTF is it with women and cosmetics? Thanks much to the lady who spilled red nail polish in the fore washroom on the plane. A chipped nail is a big deal when you're using Revlon's "Cherries in the Snow" in the summer, I guess.

And I could make a big deal about how people now sit on the floor in airports because that's where the plugs are but I do that too. I'm one of the few women though, which is interesting. So then I wonder why I'm so hard on women who bring electric curling irons in their carry on so they can touch up between flights. Not making that up. It's not like they're maintaining this.

I'm just an internet geek. I don't understand grown women owning anything "Hello Kitty" either.

Dante needs to come backand invent a new circle of Hell...

...for whoever woke up one morning and decided a

rhinestoned
Hello Kitty
Pez dispenser

was a good idea. Limited edition? Fuck me.

H/t Graphic Firing Table, who has a picture. eww.

Knitting finished and brief blog announcement

Baby Sweater (gift)

One sock and the other one started (also a gift)

Also one of my dear readers wanted me to get back to posting at my Quaker Blog and also I thought to start a knitting blog at one time as well, but really, I have enough space right here at Blue Gal to write about religion, knitting, politics, whatever I fancy. No point segmenting my life online any more than it already is.

But I think the dear reader wanted a little more religion/faith posting from me, where ever I might decide to do that. I've gotten involved in my local United Methodist congregation here and have finally come out of my shell enough to join more than one of the religion discussion groups they offer. I'm kind of amazed at the sheer number of paperback books on faith, all around six chapters/120 pages, about how to apply basic white-person love Jesus and your neighbor "spirituality" in your daily life. These books are obviously designed for the six week "Bible-Study" set, and they vary in quality as much as they vary in emphasis. But what I've found is that actually sitting down with other people and discussing how to get through the week with patience, joy, and gratitude is very salutary. I've never been a terribly social person, though I fake it well, and so this feels like new territory for me.

I apologize if those who want me to share more online about faith and spirituality find that my face-to-face outlet somehow leaves little of that for my blogging. I don't want, for reasons of confidentiality and respect, to come back to the blog with a church meeting report. But I'll try to remember my readers' interest and mention some of the ideas I learn as I move through my week.

I did have a minor revelation this week. I have long struggled with the idea of chores for my children. I didn't have assigned chores as a child and I really wasn't interested in giving my kids lots of work in an angry or controlling "top-down" manner. Also I don't follow a real "chore chart" for me, though I do have a list, and the chore chart idea seemed to have little hope in terms of the attention span of the household in general, including me. I forsee implementing a workable chore chart in this house right after I purchase a "Hello, Kitty!" vacuum cleaner:



But we had a little visitor this week who trashed the girl's bedroom while "playing" with them; the game really truly appeared to be "lets see how messy we can make this room" complete with overturned chairs and dis-assembled bedding. That incident got me mad enough to demand their participation in clean up. As we were working I said to them that this room was theirs, this is their stuff, and they have to take care of their stuff. Since I hear the words "No that's mine!" about twelve thousand times a day, I concluded that their stuff kind of matters to them, and they'd better show it. I've found it much easier to demand their participation in household matters by reminding them that this is their house and we all take care of it together. Rewarding them (yes, my son too) with "wow YOUR room looks really nice" seems to be helping.

I'm grateful for small areas of personal growth and household peace. Amen.

I haven't been posting much about politics lately because I don't want to write about healthcare reform, and that is the all-encompassing issue these days. I don't resent that I just don't want to write about it.

Vlog 11/17

Links: David Stephenson on ICE (In Case of Emergency) cell phone programming (h/t Organic George)

Living Will information by state is here.

CareNotes are not churchy. You might check with local denominations to see if they carry these for free.

The Hello Kitty picture is there ironically. Trust me.

What's in your briefcase, big boy?

Several bloggers including Echidne have pointed out the stupidity of the Freakonomics piece on prostitution. Working up outrage (over their utilitarian arguments re paying for sex) is difficult when faced with the Total Asperger Blinders of the authors: borderline autistic economists who don't insert "humanity" into their equations don't deserve a lot of 'analysis.' (Next up: the economy is down, so why aren't more parents eating their babies?) But my eye did catch this little jem:

Allie [a high-priced "escort"] says she is “a little more liberal” than some prostitutes when it comes to satisfying a client’s unusual request. There was, for instance, the fellow back in Texas who still flew her in regularly and asked her to incorporate some devices he kept in a briefcase in a session most people wouldn’t even recognize as sex per se.

I've always been intrigued that if you are paying a woman to have sex with you, she's a prostitute, but if you are paying her to be filmed having sex with you, she's a porn star. And the second one is legal? Somehow, I don't see prostitutes carrying Flip Cams and calling themselves "actresses" having an impact on the prostitution debate.

And trust me, I'm down with the "prostitution is not a victimless crime" argument, completely and sympathetically. But how can you tell it's prostitution if what they do can't be recognized "as sex per se"? What if it's really just play acting for money? Look at what Jesus' General advised one wife to buy to 'turn on' her newly-sober and recently impotent husband:

What you need are things that excite a man. Go to town and get a trapeze, a sheepskin, a tube of carpet adhesive, a bag of pork rinds, a roll of duct tape, a ratchet (preferably a 10 inch flip lever tear drop with an 1/2 in. drive), and a copy of the abridged video version of Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead."

So if a playdate with those items is what you're paying for? I defy anyone on God's green earth to call THAT prostitution.

And if you send a woman a plane ticket and she willingly gets on the plane to fly to you so you can "play" with said items, or even items that are more, ahem, titillating? No analyst can rightly call that rape, even if it gets them off to do so.

But hey, if you're playing, and you pull out the Hello Kitty fingerless biker gloves? Shit, dude, I'm having you arrested.

Shockingly Not A Photoshop. From Hot Chicks With Douchebags, which specializes in highlighting the objectified and oppressed womanhood of the Jersey Shore.

yeah yeah I talk to myself...

But being a techological kinda person I can do it in two tracks. Hope you can make this out:



And I know you don't believe me about the Hello, Kitty! wifebeater shirt.