Tuesday, January 27, 2009


If you are, like me, a fan of bad and/or late-night television programs, you have probably seen this commercial. If you have not, watch it--you are in for a treat.

I tend to want everything I see on infomercials (or infomercial-type commercials), but usually I am able to control myself. Not this time. This commercial spoke to me as none had before. I spend a great deal of my time sitting on a couch in a freezing apartment, watching tv, reading books, or doing things on the computer. I typically have one or two fleece blankets on top of me, but every time I have to get out the remote control or turn the page, all of the precious heat leaves me. So I ordered a Snuggie (actually two, because you get a second for free).

I have been mercilessly mocked by Fuzzy and others ever since I announced this decision. But I have been vindicated: my Snuggies arrived today, and they are as awesome as I could possibly have hoped. I'm sitting here blogging, as toasty and comfy as can be.

I admit that there are two things in the commercial that seem to me to be a bit misleading: (1) you can't really walk around in a Snuggie, because they are crazy long, and (2) I don't see how on earth it would make sense to wear them to a sporting event, because in addition to making you looking like a huge freak, Snuggies don't close in the back, so your back would be freezing. But these are, as far as I can tell, the only downsides to this product.

This blog has a pretty funny analysis of the Snuggie phenomenon.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


My church requires that before people get married, they attend a session on "Natural Family Planning." This method basically involves learning to track your fertility using temperature and other physical symptoms, then abstaining from sex during your most fertile periods as a means of controlling family size without using artificial birth control.

Much of the session was devoted to statements about how incredibly effective this method is. Which, ok, maybe, if you actually follow it. But the likelihood of anyone actually being able to follow it regularly enough to maintain a typical family size was undermined a bit by two facts: (1) Our NFP teacher was pregnant with her 7th child; and (2) A guy in our class mentioned that his parents had taught NFP. He later mentioned that he was one of 12 (!) children.

Monday, January 19, 2009


A couple of days ago, B. and I went to a store to set up a wedding registry. The saleswoman talked to us for about ten minutes about us, our wedding, and what household items we needed, taking notes during the conversation. When we left the store, she handed us a bunch of papers, most of which informed us of our need for several dozen types of obscure dishes and kitchen gadgets we had never heard of. Along with these, presumably by mistake, the saleswoman included the page with the notes she had taken on us:

Couple only has about an hour to spend in the store today. Couple is very artsy. [Panda] is a lawyer and [B.] is a data analyst. Couple does not need luggage. Couple has not registered anywhere else. Couple not needing formal dinnerware. Couple is very artsy.

"Artsy"? "Very artsy"? Artsy enough to mention it twice? We were mystified.