So Says The Mouse In My Hair

Cliché Busters: Little People Are Scary

So yes, I’m tired of people saying that little people are scary, disturbing, creepy, diabolic, or mermaids. It happens a lot. In fact, I hear this so frequently… the mermaid bit especially… that I’m ready to call the whole mind set a cliché.

When you think about it, there are so many better things to find disturbing. For instance, are you ever weirded out when you walk into a general store? More specifically, a general store in a town that you didn’t grow up in? And it’s not the set up, so much as the hostile flying saber vibes given off by everyone in the store. And you can feel them thinking, “Now why in Hades would someone like that be in a store like this?” Now that’s something worth getting disconcerted about.

Or what about the E! Network. Creepy peppy Stepford people who want to make sure that I know EVERYTHING about every famous person on the planet. Because it is so any of my business why Sandra Bullock broke up with Matthew McConaughey or who’s marrying her co-star from the Apprentice, or why Kristie Alley can’t stop having sex. And the bad part is, that enough people watch this to make people want to advertise, which keeps the thing on the air.

And need I mention how sketchy carnies are?

So what’s the big deal about little people? And how come no one ever gets worked up about pygmies? I mean, they’re cannibals. They are strangely colored. They work for Willy Wonka. Why are these characteristics so easy to ignore? Why can you just shrug a pygmy out of your consciousness so easily, but someone who acts just like you but is half your size gets way more attention and emotion?

That was pathetically expressed. But you see my point. Not only is it boring and out of style (you heard it here first) to get the heevy geevies from little people, it’s also illogical. PLUS, you also have an availability of actually creepy people who are half your size. So go pick on them for a while.

posted by Sarah Eliza @ 3:29 PM 0 comments

Happy 900!

So I’ve reached another hundred-man marker! This one being 9. So what does that mean? Because of this site…

-1800 pupils saw the words, "So Says The Mouse In My Hair." This caused ? gazillion synapses to fire sending colorful images to the ? lobe of the brain.

-899 people have gone out and bought new hairbrushes because they’re afraid that they might have gotten e-lice from me. One just itched his scalp and licked his fingernails.

-712 people wondered, "is there anything interesting that I can ask Miss Eliza?" and answered themselves, "no." 80 people wondered the same thing but answered, "Yes, however this permanent vegetative state that I am in does not allow me to ask it." And 8 people answered, "yes, now leave me alone, will you?"

-I had to find 890 fingers lying around the dump so that I could count high enough to account for all the people that came to visit me. Speaking of fingers:

-612 people immediately clicked their mouse on "next blog >>"

-There have been 4200 seperate instances of, "Wha? Huh?"

-0 celebrities have anything to say to me. That’s ok though. It’s not like I’m dreaming of a scenario in which you write a letter that says, "Dear Miss Eliza, you are the high point of my every trip down Blog Way. If I had half your zest, and half your reasoning capability, I’d be making a quarter of the money that I do right now." I mean, come on!

-415 people have chair scooted slowly away from their computers due to the information I cause to be on their screens. 415 more have rolled slowly away from the computer. 165 people have backed slowly away under leg power, and the other 5 tried to get away, but they fell over and the computer ate them.

-9 people have laughed out loud. 109 people have cried. 209 people have had sex and 309 people have gone in search of cannibalistic cultures.

-667 people have gone out and spent $850 on alcohol and $12,400 on illegal substances and 4 drug stores have been burgled.

Not bad huh? I wonder what happens during the next 900 visitors!

posted by Sarah Eliza @ 3:55 PM 0 comments

I'm Fine

Dear Mom,
Just writing to let you know I’m fine. Hit a bit of a SNAFU on the drive back from CA. I got to Montana and noticed that I didn’t have enough money for gas to get me back home. I mean, I did when I left, but with Katrina, and these new prices and everything, there’s just no way.
Not that I’m complaining. The ones who actually got hit by the hurricane have it way worse than me. I know how lucky I am to be alive and clean and dry with a place to sleep at night. Those guys need help way more than I do at the moment, so if you’ve got a little extra money kicking around, don’t worry about me. Get it to the Red Cross. I’m fine, like I said before.

See, here’s the story. I was way out in the middle of nowhere, on the scenic route home, stopping for pictures and everything. The views out here are uber more stunning in person, you know? Those mountains? Powerful stuff. But yeah, I stopped for gas in one of those cute little Americana towns, with the park in the middle, and the gazebo and main street and everything. And I was about to pump, when I did some internal calculations, and realized that $300 was not going to get me back to the east coast.

I know, you’ve been telling me forever that I need better gas mileage than the jeep, but you know how it is with parental advice right? But yes, you were right. And a new car is right near the top of my list at the moment.

But anyway, I was pretty lucky to notice the problem when I did. $300 may not be able to get me home anymore, but it was enough to get me a deposit on an apartment in the middle of nowhere Montana. I asked around and found this cute little above the garage type thing that the family (the Carpenters) had just finished. Mr. Carpenter said it was originally supposed to be for their son, a deal to get him to stay close to home and go to the community college, but he changed his mind and wanted something a little more prestigious. So he’s over at Stanford, and the Carpenters are here with an apartment to rent.

It’s not really furnished. Gus, that’s the son, was going to do that, but he took all that stuff to college with him. But since I don’t have much in the way of furniture with me, I’ve been trying to get the seats out of the jeep. It isn’t going that well. All I’ve managed so far is a chuckle from Mr. Carpenter. He was riding the lawnmower about early in the week, puttering is what Mrs. C likes to call it, having a good old time watching me for a while.

Finally, he comes up and says, "You know, you get some cash, you can find yourself some pretty decent stuff at one a the yard sales this weekend."

Yard sales! Mom, you’ve gotta try them. Amazing. I went yesterday, and found a used-but-not-ratty mattress for $25! They even gave me the box spring! I also came up with a few decorative pillows and some stuffed animals to up the squishy factor in my new place. You know how I love soft, fluffy environments, right? Yeah.

Oh the money? You’re wondering where I got it? I found work. It was the next thing I did after I got the place to sleep covered. There’s this daycare/preschool down the road that was looking for people. Margaret (my new boss) was a little wary about the no previous experience thing, but she went gaga over the first aid/CPR training. And the kids are so cute! They’re up to four years old, and you would not believe the things that come out of their mouths! Well you would I’m sure having experience with your very own four year olds, but me, I have to stop myself from laughing in their faces.

Yesterday this girl comes ups to me, and with the most serious expression on her face, she says, "Boys can make little boys, but girls make little girls. That way things are even." I mean come on, how am I supposed to answer that?

So like I said, I’m fine. And now that things are taken care of, I’m saving up for a new car. Gotta go though. The weekend’s not over yet, and there’s many yard sales to go before I rest.

Love,
Jenny

posted by Sarah Eliza @ 6:26 AM 0 comments

Dear Miss Eliza

Dear Miss Eliza,
My daughter starts school on Tuesday and has stubbornly explained that she’s not going without her cell phone. I’ve tried explaining that at six years old she really ought to be able to leave the thing at home (It’s more of a toy than anything at that age, you know?) but this only incites tantrums and talk of ice picks meeting skulls. What is a mother to do?
- Fears A Lobotomy

Dear Lobotomable,
As my Paddy used to say, "What doesn’t kill you leaves you alive." In this context, his sage advice could mean one of several things. First: a lobotomy may kill the you inside you, but it won’t kill you which means you’ll still be alive. Some people would consider this worth living for… but not many. So I would suggest that you let your brat—I mean daughter—take her cell phone to school.

(For future reference, when an advice columnist... or anyone else for that matter... insults your spawn they areprobably insulting yourself as well, but only if you should happen to look hard enough.)

Letting the little girl take a cell phone to school is not irresponsible. Letting a six year old have a cell phone is irresponsible. That bears repeating in color. Letting the little girl take a cell phone to school is not irresponsible. Letting a six year old have a cell phone is irresponsible. Exactly what are you trying to teach your daughter?

To look to society for a picture of who she’s supposed to be
As a family you should all bepermanantly joined at the hip clip
A lesson in money management
An appreciation of the glorious things that humans are capable of
How to enslave yourself to your fellow citizens

Good grief!

I’ll end my personal tirade here. Just promise me you’ll think about it before you have anymore children.
-Miss Eliza

Dear Miss Eliza
Call me cheap, but maybe I’m just cheap. And as a cheap I’m looking for some cheap ways to take a girl on a cheap date. Cheap. Is there anything I can cheaply pull off that will manage to come across as romantic?
Cheapy McCheap.

Dear Cheapy,
Did you know that the cool thing about the Appalachian trail is that it doesn’t cost you money to hike it? It’s true. Of course that's not the same as not spending any money when you’re hiking it… but that’s not the issue. Hiking brings up an excellent point. Nature is free. That’s where the saying "free as nature" came from. Did you know that? Well you’re learning a lot today then. Not only is nature free, but you don’t burn any gasoline… which is saying the same thing… which is called redundant… which coincidentally is called natural.

No it’s not. That’s a lie. But anyway.

p.s. If you’re looking for the coolest book ever written about the Appalachian Trail, try out A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson. I don’t know if it is literally the coolest book ever written on the subject, but I do know that it places somewhere in the list of coolest books ever written about the Appalachian Tral.

Anyway, I’m digressing. Nature is free, so a nature date, is at the very least cheap if not free. I'm a campfire girl myself, so you give me a flame and a stick and marshmallows (plural please on the marshmallows) then I’m a happy columnist.

NOTE: the keyest key to a cheap date is picking a date who doesn’t mind. If her idea of a date is candlelight and a place-setting-with-more-than-three-utensils and cloth-napkins, and a wine-glass-that-isn’t-the-same-thing-as-a-water-glass, you are pretty well out of luck. So go forth and scope out nature and find yourself a nice cheap girl, and you too can be a happy columnee.
-Miss Eliza

Dear Miss Eliza,
My dad’s a Christian, but my mom’s Jewish, which means that I’m Jewish too, but I still know how to celebrate Christmas, not that I do it because I’m Jewish because my mom is Jewish. The thing is, my old college roommate (in ’67, ’68, ’69, and ’70) deleted me from her address book. Don’t ask how I know, long story. So I’m wondering if it’s inappropriate for me to send her Christmas cards anymore, since I don’t believe in Christmas and she’s trying to pretend like I don’t exist. We’ll just see about that Cheri! I told you that night with Marc would come back to haunt you, but no, no, no. You just had to go ahead. And look where it’s gotten you!
Wait, I don’t even know if Cheri reads your column. I’m getting ahead of myself. Sorry. If you could just answer the question, my therapist suggested you. He says you’re good with the crazy people questions. Thanks!
-No, I mean I’m almost done with the therapy

Dear No,
You know, it might just be easier to find someone else who still has you in her address book, and ask her if she'd like to be your old college roommate and send her the Christmas cards instead. Of course, you’ll have to make sure that she’s ok with the idea of Christmas… and the idea that you know how to celebrate Christmas, but don’t celebrate it anyway.

College roomies-by-proxy are just as much fun… way better actually… than the real thing, not to mention the fact that you don’t have to remember all those icky fights about who’s towel was left in the middle of the floor, and all those times when she put your CD's in the microwave. It’s all good now. Because, assuming you pick the right person, life was full of peace, love and anti-war demonstrations.

So good luck with that one. I’d offer, but I wasn’t really around for those particular dates.
- Miss Eliza

posted by Sarah Eliza @ 3:41 PM 0 comments