Though I began the year with no particular plan for this blog (like the Magnetic Poetry of 2011 and the Legacy Writing of 2012), in going back over the past couple of weeks of entries, I see a theme emerging. Maybe I’ve been subliminally influenced by the My Ideal Bookshelf banner, because I seem to be featuring books or quoting writers a lot. It’s not a writing blog–lots of people do that better than I would–but it is a writer’s blog, so I guess it isn’t surprising that books and writers and quotes are what interest me most. Even more than dolls!
That being said, a couple of dolls I received at Christmas tie together both things: Little Dead Riding Wolf and Snow Bite.
I love the many versions of the Little Red Riding Hood story, though I don’t think that particular tale is part of Fifty Famous Fairy Tales. That was one of the books given to me by our minister when I was eleven. Somewhere along the way, I acquired the hilarious Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, which provides an entirely different view of what happened to Red in the forest that day. (Many people believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident enough in her own budding sexuality that such obvious Freudian imagery did not intimidate her.)
Regarding Snow White, people are usually surprised that I’ve never watched Disney’s version. This fairy tale is included in the book from my childhood, but for some reason, it was never among my favorite fairy tales, so I guess that’s why the movie never beckoned to me. I did very much like last year’s Snow White and the Huntsman, but regardless of my enjoyment of many things Julia Roberts has done, Mirror Mirror was not one of them.
In Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, when Snow learns that she’s stumbled into an enclave of former miners who are now dedicated stewards of the earth…[who] live…in harmony with nature…[and] make ends meet [by]…conduct[ing] retreats for men who need to get in touch with their primitive masculine identities,” her response:
“So what does that involve…aside from drinking milk straight from the carton?”
As I pondered this, I realized it’s true. Throughout my life, the only people I ever saw drinking straight from a carton of anything were male. Even those little cartons of milk we used to get with our school lunches: The girls used straws.
Does milk still come in those tiny cartons, or is it all in boxes or plastic now?
I drink milk straight from the carton. ALL THE TIME … of course when company comes over I wipe the lipstick off.
I think that the key phrase is “that you saw …” I firmly believe all single people, living on their own have on occasion gone to the fridge at 4am, and chugged sans glass.
I don’t deny this. Except in my case, because (1) I don’t drink milk and (2) I’ve never* drunk directly from anything that other people share. And I don’t share drinks at ANY time. If you take a swallow of something I’m drinking, it becomes yours. My nephew Josh used this to good advantage.
*ETA: Someone will come along and dispute this. When I was young and heedless, I probably shared a Coke with someone. And I have shared a drink in California with Jim because I was PARCHED.
… but if you are single and live alone there is no sharing, the whole gallon is mine I tell you, mine, mine MINE!!!!
Sharing is how we build resistance to disease. If you share a coke, no need for a flu shot.
Wait, you don’t drink Milk?
The only way I can tolerate the taste of milk is in cereal, and even then, it kind of grosses me out. I’m not lactose intolerant. I put cream in coffee, I’ve been known to drink buttermilk (which horrifies some people, but it’s so good with cornbread crumbled in it), and I can drink small amounts of chocolate milk. But milk in general makes me feel all skeevy.
And how does that sharing-builds-resistance thing work for mono, herpes, and many germ-based illnesses like the common cold?
I know you’re being funny, but for people with immune-compromis(ed)(ing) diseases, of which I have three, sharing is not an option. I don’t want what other people seem so willing to give. And my insurance company and doctor strongly suggest yearly flu and every-three-years pneumonia shots for me. Don’t spread misinformation!
I doubt that anyone would take that seriously, and for the record I will be getting a flu shot as strains of influenza have killed more people than any other pandemic in the world, well since they’ve been keeping records. It really was just a joke.
I know.
I never got a flu shot until 2010, but now that I see how sick people get, I’m glad I began. I know it can’t protect me from all or new strains, but damn–I don’t want that nasty stuff.
When you are single and live alone, it IS all yours. As long as Dash doesn’t figure out how to open the refrigerator door. Also, keep your eye on those wood creatures, especially if they can talk, sing, or sew.
We don’t seem to get milk in cartons over here any more. Maybe plastic bottles are easier to recycle?
I don’t know. We do still have cartons, though the littlest ones seem to have become tall and narrow instead of short and squat. I don’t know if they have them, or the next size up, in schools anymore, though.
Becky, I recommend adding the following to your fairy tail list: “The True Story of the Three Little Pigs by A. Wolf,” author Ion Scieszka. Hilarious….those pigs were so mean.
There is a similiar version about Red Ridinghood by a different author. I have not read this one.
I’ve read that! My sympathies were entirely with the wolf. Besides having a cold and trying to bake a cake for his granny, he was a fellow bacon lover.
They still have the little cartons of milk available locally for school kids. And I still occasionally see quarts of milk in the waxed cartons, but the gallons and half gallons all switched over to plastic about three years ago. I also think that some of the plastic jugs give an off taste to the milk.
We still have half gallons in waxed cartons in some brands. Don’t know that I’ve ever seen gallons, though.
I hope you told DAIRYLAND that they misspelled chocolate on their carton. Bad influence for school kids. And I never drink anything straight from the carton.
I stole that photo off the Internet. In fact, I wanted to credit the blog I took it from, but it’s a locked blog so no one can read it even if I link to it. I don’t know why that post/photo showed up in my search–probably cached from a former life when the blog was public.
I don’t know how old that milk carton is, but Dairyland is based in Quebec, so they used the French spelling of chocolate.
And on the topic of random Red Riding Hood takes…
http://youtu.be/IXcWQrhzlMU
They edited off the intro when the cast gets all fed up with doing the original version –again. Then, the new title shows up…
(I even found one backwards, presumably to prove that such a drastic shift in perspective did not contain the satanic messages religions often trashed rock and roll for: http://youtu.be/YrCgB2ZOY8k )
Cartoons just aren’t what they used to be. And my, but Grandma was frisky!