Dear Me, It's . . . Me?

A friend and I had a conversation about how to manage stress a few weeks ago.  As a follow up, she sent me an e-mail the other day asking me if I ever tried journaling.  I have tried it, and I have hated it.

Don't get me wrong.  I am not saying that no one out there should journal.  Apparently some people do it and find it to be really helpful.  I, on the other hand, just don't get it.  I remember being a kid and getting a diary in my stocking one Christmas.  It was one of those faux leather bound books with "gold" edged sheets and a little tiny lock and key.  It was even embossed with the word "Diary" in more of the faux gold (fauld?), as if I would confuse it for one of the other little books that I had that were secured with tiny locks and keys.

What to write?  First of all, as pre-tween living in Western PA in the late 70's, I didn't really have all that much going on that required either A) deep written examination or B) a lockable repository for my thoughts.  Shirley on Laverne and Shirley--one of my ATF shows (all time favorite--not alcohol, tobacco and firearms for the uninitiated)--was always writing in her diary about Carmine and Boo Boo Kitty.  I wasn't doing a lot of dating at the age of nine, and I didn't have such deep, complex relationships with my stuffed animals that they needed to be committed to paper.  I believe that little green pleather book got relegated to the garage sale box.

When I was in Junior High I had a Language Arts Teacher who assigned us to write in a journal which he then graded.  We were required to write several times a week on assigned topics.  In retrospect I understand that his version of "journaling" was really an exercise to get us to develop our own writing styles.  It was Language Arts after all.  I don't remember what the assigned topics were, but I do remember that I was able to construe them in such a way that I wrote my first three entries on why I hated journaling.  At the first entry, he was amused.  By the second entry, he was less amused but did admire my creativity.  (He said so in him comments--red pen and all.)  By the third entry, he had lost his sense of humor about it and told me to cut it out.

At some point in college I purchased a blank journal on my own.  I am not sure what I was trying to accomplish, but it seemed like a way to sort out my thoughts.  Aren't college students supposed to be all inquisitive, searching for the meaning of things and whatnot?  My biggest problem was that I was never sure how to start.  "Dear Diary"?  (I have already established that didn't work.)  Write the entry to an unknown audience? (Dear God, It's Me, BettyBeeBuzz?)  [Bonus points to those of you who got the Judy Blume reference.]  Just write as if having a conversation with myself?  (Dear Me, It's Me.  How am I?)  It all seemed vaguely ridiculous to me.

Of course, the irony is that I realized when responding to my friend's question about whether I journal or not is that blogging is kind of like journaling.  There is no lock and key (or any pleather that I am aware of), and no one is grading me (though I am sure some of you are judging me).  [Don't deny it.  I know that you are.]  It is not so much an attempt for me to sort out my thoughts as it is a place to capture the random ones.  (Girls Next Door and Benefiber anyone?)  The fact that it is something that I post on-line does at least give the illusion that I have an audience, so it doesn't have quite the navel-gazing quality of journaling.  In the end, I suppose that it is just as vaguely ridiculous as the rest of it, but this I actually enjoy.

A Somewhat Irregular Ad

While I was watching TV today, I took note of a particular commercial.  It starts out with a slim young woman walking around on a plain background.  She is attractive with long blond hair and is wearing a white crop top and a short white skirt.  I wasn't really paying that much attention--just another add for a feminine hygiene product was my guess--until I realized that the ad was for Benefiber.  

Benefiber?  Huh?  Let me get this straight, the whole message of this smiling young woman dancing around on my screen is "I am young, I am pretty, I am fashionable and I am slightly irregular"?  

What is even stranger is that I went on-line to see if I could find the ad so that I could watch it again before I wrote this post.  (I am all about doing the research and getting the facts.)  I couldn't find the crop top/short skirt commercial, but I did find about ten links to another Benefiber ad.  This one features another slim, young, blond woman.  However, she is wearing white pants and--wait for it--a bright green feathered crop top.  Seriously.  It looks like she is being attacked by a muppet.  There is some French music (or at least some woman speaking French) in the background, and our young mademoiselle is cavorting around with a glass of water.  Apparently the main benefit of Benefiber is that when added to water it is clear, not cloudy, like the competitor's brand.  So, does that mean that the message here is "I am young, I am French, I like clear things and I am slightly irregular"?

I understand that the whole point of advertising is to romance a product.  Apparently Benefiber is trying to win over a newer, hipper--though still slightly irregular--audience.  It seems a bit of a stretch.  Funnily enough, a woman who used to live in my building was the "star" of a Metameusil ad.  While she was young (though not barely legal like blond girl), she was not as hip and fashionable in her commercial.  In her ad she was shown struggling to pull a shopping cart filled with broccoli to illustrate the amount of vegetables that one would need to eat to get the same amount of fiber in the (presumably cloudy) Metameusil.  She no longer lives in the building, but she seemed nice when I chatted with her in the elevator.  She had a super cute dog, too.

In an odd twist, she is now "starring" in ad for a fiber pill.  I am not sure if it is made by Metameusil or not.  If not, I wonder if the maker of the fiber pill thought "Wow, she really brought the laxative drink ad to life!  Let's get her to shill our fiber pill!"  I am not an actress, but if I were, I don't think that I would like to be pigeonholed as "The Face of Constipation".  The only thing worse would be becoming known as the "Diva of Incontinence".

The Bee is Back

Soooooo, I haven't been so good about the blogging.  I know, I know.  A friend reminded me at lunch today that there actually are people who read this.  Who knew?  (BTW, hello to my one fan in NC.)

To be honest, I have been a little uninspired as of late.  Bad news is ubiquitous at this point.  The economy is bad, job losses are at an all time high, etc., etc., etc.  I don't need to tell you.  You have seen the reports.  It is just all overwhelming.  I have been trying to limit the amount of news that I watch without becoming completely uninformed.  Instead I have been doing a lot of reading, watching a lot of movies and checking up on the pop culture world.  Here is what I have found:

• Oprah is still kind of crazy.  I admit it.  I watched Best Life Week last week.  Guess what?  We got to all hear--in detail--how Oprah feels about her weight gain, how people around Oprah feel about her weight gain and how total strangers feel about Oprah's weight gain.  (To add my two cents, I don't care about Oprah's weight gain.)  We also learned more about Oprah's thyroid condition than I ever cared to know, that Oprah thinks that she can be our spiritual advisor and that Suze Orman thinks that we will all be on our way to financial security if we stop eating in restaurants for one month.  (If that sounds confusing, don't worry, the shows didn't help to clarify.  At least you saved some time by reading the synopsis rather than watching for an hour every day.)  I did not watch the sex-themed show at the end of the week because I was so traumatized by the sex show where Oprah had a middle-aged couple on talking about their sexual dysfunction.  These people have teenage children, and they showed their faces and used their real names.  Those poor kids.
• The Golden Globes actually rewarded the people who deserved to be rewarded this year.  It was great to see the smaller, more independent film Slumdog Millionaire win.  There was an embarrassment of riches to choose from in film this year.  Of course, there was the fashion to review as well.  My Best of the Best?  Kate Winslet looked stunning (STUNNING), and Sandra Bullock's dress was elegant.  My Worst of the Worst?  J. Lo's dress was hideous.  (Shapeless gold lame?  No gracias.)  Eva Mendes's hair was a sloppy rat's nest.  The true Worst of the Worst, though, was Renee Zelwigger with both a terrible dress and terrible hair.  It was truly surprising.  She normally looks so lovely.  Sunday night she looked like she was dragged through a bush backwards on the way to the ceremony.  Renee, don't just fire your stylist.  Shoot her.
• J. Lo isn't wearing her wedding ring.  I haven't heard the full scoop on this one yet.  She arrived at the Globes with her hubby, but that ring was conspicuously absent.
• Brad Pitt and Kate Blanchett are two supernaturally attractive people--as well as two amazingly talented people.  The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was one of my favorite movies in an fantastic season.  What could have been a three hour gimmick was a wonderfully engaging story.

There is more, but if I write about it now, I will not have anything else to blog about this week.  If you like the blog--or even if you don't--please comment.  Let me know what you like and what you don't.  Knowing that there are readers out there can definitely supply inspiration when it is hard to find elsewhere.