UGLY BETTY

Tonight I saw a promo for a local news segment on a product called Betty Color and I literally had to pause it and rewind it like ten times. Granted, it was channel 9 news which is generally garbage, but they were running a segment on an apparent growing trend:  Dying Pubic Hair.  

I KNOW.  I mean, we all know that for most women, the carpet doesn't match the drapes.  But does it matter? No one's ever met a dumb blonde and looked at her black pubes and thought, "hmmm, maybe she is smart after all."  

When so many women, including myself, put themselves through torturous scenarios to try to tidy up and get rid of "split ends" so to speak, what I find hilarious is that this product seems to encourage the idea of a "full head of hair."  Obviously, there are times throughout the month and year when your "do" could use some upkeep and some tendin' to (I'm all for hibernating in the winter). But this product seems to endorse length. In order for their plethora of color dye options to work, you've gotta have something to work with...  Unless, of course you want your crotch to look like Susan Powter's head back in the day....

Ever wanted to dye your hair crazy colors??? Welllll you are in luck!  Use "Fun Betty" and you can shock your lover with a big PINK hoo-ha. Feeling BLUE?  Just try "Malibu Betty." Need a stocking stuffer? Just buy your gal "Holiday Betty!" This festive one comes in GREEN or RED and is sure to make your man say "ho ho ho!" 

AND... For those of you that are feeling  like you need to literally MARK your territory, try Betty's "CHARM-CILS." That's right! For $7.99 you can choose from one of 8 stencils. Feeling groovy? Try a PEACE SIGN. Need some cash?  Pimp a $ sign.  Ever wanted to be a FIRE CROTCH? Just stencil in a LIGHTENING sign!  Yes, my friends, the possibility for a truly unique hoo ha is endless....   

And here I was thinking that Obama's in and Bush is out.... (Ba da dum)...

FREAKS LIKE ME

I love Target. I love it like a drug. Give me an excuse to go there and I'm all over it. So tonight, when I decided that I should bake brownies to take to a friend's house tomorrow for a play date, and that we're out of diapers and wipes (oh, and napkins too), the red and white dartboard called to me.

Well, ever wonder where all the freaks in your neighborhood go on a Monday at 9:30pm? Well, look no further. They are at TARGET. That's right. Tar-jay. And I'm pretty sure the freaks from your neighborhood, contacted the freaks from my neighborhood and made plans to go to MY Target together.

The minute I pulled into the parking lot, I regretted the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra (or underwear) under my shlumpy get up. Maybe I'm too paranoid and growing up with a single mother has made me overly cautious, but my lovely little (huge, really) Target felt scary. Outside, there was a man holding a baby and screaming at his wife, a teenager defiantly pushed a cart into the lot not really caring who and what it hit, and an employee that looks like he was just fired (again)...

Inside, I grabbed a cart and surveyed the store: the "regulars" I normally see, (tired moms trying to keep their kids from melting down as they buy detergent) were no where to be found. Instead, weirdos roamed the aisles, making me wish I told T-Ko I loved him (instead of "can you do the dishes for once?") before I left.

I zipped through the store, and as always, managed to grab some other things I "needed." (Seriously, it was the perfect size plastic container). There were only four check out stands open, all with very long lines, about seven freaks deep. It was like a metaphor: Four Lines of freaks, which freak do you choose? I chose the line with the freak buying a suitcase, a hammer, and I'm pretty sure using traveler's checks. My other option was a line where a guy with jesus hair was talking to himself, buying hair gel and nuts (no, kidding).

$100 bucks later (how the hell does that always happen???), I sped out of the parking lot and headed home to my humble and SANE abode. I know I live in a very safe neighborhood and a safe city for that matter, but I'm a big scaredy cat and I guess having a baby heightens my awareness. So from now on, no more Tar-jay runs late at night. We'll stick to our normal day-time, Target routine. Besides, I feel a lot more normal when I'm shopping with other freaks like me....