Saturday, May 31, 2008
Morning Mysteries
Isn't it fun when you come home drunk and then wake up the next morning and discover the evidence of the weird things you don't remember doing before passing out? I always feel like a crime scene investigator, though generally only for crimes of fashion. This morning, for instance, I discovered that I had decided to make toast and eat it while peeing, as there was a thick layer of crumbs all over the bathroom floor. I also apparently decided to throw the TV remote behind my nightstand, as I woke up in the middle of the night with some movie involving fencing blaring and no method of shutting it off.
On other occasions I have discovered entire meals I have prepared and abandoned, various semi-artistic creations, and of course that staple of drinking, the ill-advised text. This is why I've had to cut back on my benders. This, and of course the fatness factor.
Isn't it fun when you come home drunk and then wake up the next morning and discover the evidence of the weird things you don't remember doing before passing out? I always feel like a crime scene investigator, though generally only for crimes of fashion. This morning, for instance, I discovered that I had decided to make toast and eat it while peeing, as there was a thick layer of crumbs all over the bathroom floor. I also apparently decided to throw the TV remote behind my nightstand, as I woke up in the middle of the night with some movie involving fencing blaring and no method of shutting it off.
On other occasions I have discovered entire meals I have prepared and abandoned, various semi-artistic creations, and of course that staple of drinking, the ill-advised text. This is why I've had to cut back on my benders. This, and of course the fatness factor.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
The Pain
I have been known to do the occasional bit of manscaping. It's not that I think there's anything wrong with being hairy per se, it's just that my body hair tends to come in a bit sparsely, which kind of makes me feel like I'm twelve and starting to notice some weird changes in my body. All of which is probably more information than you really needed.
But anyway, for some reason last night I decided that I would try Nair for Men. This was, without a doubt, one of the biggest mistakes I've made in my life, and I was on the math team in junior high. I should have known better the minute I opened the bottle and the smell of decaying ferrets jumped out. But no, I went ahead and applied liberally. And then the pain began. Within five minutes I was in the shower, sobbing lightly as my chest turned bright red and began crusting over. Essentially, I gave myself a chemical peel. And now I have a splotch in vaguely the shape of Mickey Mouse between my nipples.
Oh, and the whole time this was happening, Evan Almighty was playing on HBO. It's like God was out to get me personally.
I have been known to do the occasional bit of manscaping. It's not that I think there's anything wrong with being hairy per se, it's just that my body hair tends to come in a bit sparsely, which kind of makes me feel like I'm twelve and starting to notice some weird changes in my body. All of which is probably more information than you really needed.
But anyway, for some reason last night I decided that I would try Nair for Men. This was, without a doubt, one of the biggest mistakes I've made in my life, and I was on the math team in junior high. I should have known better the minute I opened the bottle and the smell of decaying ferrets jumped out. But no, I went ahead and applied liberally. And then the pain began. Within five minutes I was in the shower, sobbing lightly as my chest turned bright red and began crusting over. Essentially, I gave myself a chemical peel. And now I have a splotch in vaguely the shape of Mickey Mouse between my nipples.
Oh, and the whole time this was happening, Evan Almighty was playing on HBO. It's like God was out to get me personally.
Monday, May 26, 2008
What are Americans Memorializing Today?
-- The hard-fought Battle for the Last Case of Coronas.
-- Something grandpa did a long time ago.
-- Not having to head in to the smelting plant today.
-- The annual de-mothballing of the short shorts.
-- Having lived through Speed Racer.
-- That time we barbecued a Ho Ho.
-- Our triumph in Topeka's biggest tan line contest.
-- The short-lived acting career of Nancy Kerrigan.
-- Twenty years of Oprah and Stedman.
-- The all-you-can-eat dessert bar at The Old Country Buffet.
-- Teen sensation Miley Cyrus.
-- The Wassersteins' annual neighborhood key party.
-- Vaguely disliking Shia LaBeouf.
-- The illegal fireworks Uncle Dan stashed in his van.
-- Tom Hanks' service in World War II.
-- The hard-fought Battle for the Last Case of Coronas.
-- Something grandpa did a long time ago.
-- Not having to head in to the smelting plant today.
-- The annual de-mothballing of the short shorts.
-- Having lived through Speed Racer.
-- That time we barbecued a Ho Ho.
-- Our triumph in Topeka's biggest tan line contest.
-- The short-lived acting career of Nancy Kerrigan.
-- Twenty years of Oprah and Stedman.
-- The all-you-can-eat dessert bar at The Old Country Buffet.
-- Teen sensation Miley Cyrus.
-- The Wassersteins' annual neighborhood key party.
-- Vaguely disliking Shia LaBeouf.
-- The illegal fireworks Uncle Dan stashed in his van.
-- Tom Hanks' service in World War II.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
God is My Ipod
My mother got herself an iPod. Well, not an iPod per se, but one of those generic-brand knockoffs they sell near the cash register at Best Buy. I guess she needed a place to download all her Gloria Estefan albums. But for the past hour and a half she's been swearing to herself as she tries to figure out how to connect it to her computer. I would try to help her, but usually people who try to help her end up getting injured somehow. Also it's kind of hilarious to watch her struggle.
I had a little shopping spree of my own today. I went to Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Old Navy, and even TJ Maxx. I thought of it as a sociological fact finding mission into the heart of hausfrau country. I was nearly stampeded next to a half-price rack of Liz Clairborn. But I got myself a new swimsuit. I've needed for one for about six years now. In fact, the swimsuit I'm replacing is so old it's from Abercrombie. It kind of makes me feel like a pedophile.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to Chicago. This weekend has really flown by. I guess that's why God made Funsavers.
My mother got herself an iPod. Well, not an iPod per se, but one of those generic-brand knockoffs they sell near the cash register at Best Buy. I guess she needed a place to download all her Gloria Estefan albums. But for the past hour and a half she's been swearing to herself as she tries to figure out how to connect it to her computer. I would try to help her, but usually people who try to help her end up getting injured somehow. Also it's kind of hilarious to watch her struggle.
I had a little shopping spree of my own today. I went to Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Old Navy, and even TJ Maxx. I thought of it as a sociological fact finding mission into the heart of hausfrau country. I was nearly stampeded next to a half-price rack of Liz Clairborn. But I got myself a new swimsuit. I've needed for one for about six years now. In fact, the swimsuit I'm replacing is so old it's from Abercrombie. It kind of makes me feel like a pedophile.
Tomorrow I'm heading back to Chicago. This weekend has really flown by. I guess that's why God made Funsavers.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Dogs
I'm visiting my parents over the long weekend. This morning I awoke to one of our dogs climbing onto my chest and licking my face vigorously. Then I breakfasted on a snack-size box of Frosted Flakes while my mother treated me to a 20-minute narrative on the various plants she has placed in our yard. I rode my mother's seventies-era exercise bike (it has avocado-colored racing stripes painted on it) for a workout and showered with a fresh bar of Dial Men. Then it was off to grandmother's for Tales of the '40s over a lunch of Carl Budding Beef and generic brand cheese. Deliciousness.
My parents did take us to see the new Indiana Jones flick, however, which was pleasant. Harrison Ford looks like he should be excavating the crags in his face and Karen Allen is wasted in a role that requires little more than screaming and smiling, but Cate Blanchett has a hilarious "Russian" accent and a fantastic haircut. And there are giant digital ants. Need I really say more?
I'm visiting my parents over the long weekend. This morning I awoke to one of our dogs climbing onto my chest and licking my face vigorously. Then I breakfasted on a snack-size box of Frosted Flakes while my mother treated me to a 20-minute narrative on the various plants she has placed in our yard. I rode my mother's seventies-era exercise bike (it has avocado-colored racing stripes painted on it) for a workout and showered with a fresh bar of Dial Men. Then it was off to grandmother's for Tales of the '40s over a lunch of Carl Budding Beef and generic brand cheese. Deliciousness.
My parents did take us to see the new Indiana Jones flick, however, which was pleasant. Harrison Ford looks like he should be excavating the crags in his face and Karen Allen is wasted in a role that requires little more than screaming and smiling, but Cate Blanchett has a hilarious "Russian" accent and a fantastic haircut. And there are giant digital ants. Need I really say more?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Nude Gwyneth Paltrow Will Give You Iron Man
That was the subject line for a spam email I received yesterday. You've got to give them extra points for topicality, I suppose. Although really, is it that hard to find a nude Gwyneth Paltrow? For a while there in the late '90s you couldn't pay her to keep her clothes on.
I did finally see Iron Man last night and I found it fairly enjoyable. Robert Downey, Jr. was quite funny, as though he were every bit as surprised as the rest of America to find himself starring in a comic book adaptation. I really liked the Iron Man suit and found myself wondering if they might be available for sale at Nordstrom Rack. The action sequences were entertaining and seldom vomit-inducing. I did think there were a few too many scenes in which people were working on building mechanical things -- I got my fill of that at U of I, thank you -- but it's a small quibble. Oh, and also I find Terrence Howard sort of creepy.
Of course, since it's me, I insisted that we buy our tickets in advance and get there half an hour early for good seats. And then there were probably a total of fifteen people in the theater. Oh well, at least we got to enjoy the movie trivia!
That was the subject line for a spam email I received yesterday. You've got to give them extra points for topicality, I suppose. Although really, is it that hard to find a nude Gwyneth Paltrow? For a while there in the late '90s you couldn't pay her to keep her clothes on.
I did finally see Iron Man last night and I found it fairly enjoyable. Robert Downey, Jr. was quite funny, as though he were every bit as surprised as the rest of America to find himself starring in a comic book adaptation. I really liked the Iron Man suit and found myself wondering if they might be available for sale at Nordstrom Rack. The action sequences were entertaining and seldom vomit-inducing. I did think there were a few too many scenes in which people were working on building mechanical things -- I got my fill of that at U of I, thank you -- but it's a small quibble. Oh, and also I find Terrence Howard sort of creepy.
Of course, since it's me, I insisted that we buy our tickets in advance and get there half an hour early for good seats. And then there were probably a total of fifteen people in the theater. Oh well, at least we got to enjoy the movie trivia!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sit In
We went to a jazz concert at Symphony Hall on Friday. Of course, given the typical CSO demographic, I was one of the few concertgoers who did not bring my own oxygen tank. A gentleman a few seats down from us felt the need to educate us on the history and principles of jazz (such as that the program is announced from the stage rather than printed in advance -- how crazy!) and half the audience left in the middle of the second half so as to "beat the traffic" back to Naperville. It was a real cultural adventure.
The greatest part, though, was when the elderly couple seated next to us tried to find their seats before the show. This, of course, became The Greatest Ordeal of All Time.
"What did that Negro say about our seats, Mabel? It says row M. Are we in row M? What did he say?"
"I don't know. I don't know. Why don't you listen? You never listen."
"How would you know? You never stop talking. Row M. I think we're in row M. But we should be on the inside. We've got to get by here."
"Oh, oh no. Oh no. Sorry for the trouble folks. Can we squeeze through? We need to squeeze through. George, watch your cane."
"Sorry about your foot there. Oops. Sorry. Come on, Mabel. Now 28. 28. I'm supposed to be in 28. Where is it? I don't see it."
"Do the numbers go up or down? We should have come from the other side."
"Well, it's too late for that, isn't it. 28. This says 15. What number do you have?"
"I don't know. I left it in my purse. Should I get it out?"
At this point she began dumping her checkbook, wallet, and various hard candies and used tissues from her purse into the aisle.
"Forget about it. Forget about it. We're on the wrong side. Come on. Come on. Sorry, we need to squeeze through again."
"Are we on the wrong side? Oh George, we're on the wrong side. Hold up a minute, I've got to get this stuff back in my purse."
"Where's 28? There's only odd numbers here. I only see odd numbers. Are you in 27?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I just want to sit down."
At this point, someone explained that all the even numbers were on the other side of the theater.
"Oh holy hell. Mabel, we've got to get going."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Good lord."
I love the fine arts.
We went to a jazz concert at Symphony Hall on Friday. Of course, given the typical CSO demographic, I was one of the few concertgoers who did not bring my own oxygen tank. A gentleman a few seats down from us felt the need to educate us on the history and principles of jazz (such as that the program is announced from the stage rather than printed in advance -- how crazy!) and half the audience left in the middle of the second half so as to "beat the traffic" back to Naperville. It was a real cultural adventure.
The greatest part, though, was when the elderly couple seated next to us tried to find their seats before the show. This, of course, became The Greatest Ordeal of All Time.
"What did that Negro say about our seats, Mabel? It says row M. Are we in row M? What did he say?"
"I don't know. I don't know. Why don't you listen? You never listen."
"How would you know? You never stop talking. Row M. I think we're in row M. But we should be on the inside. We've got to get by here."
"Oh, oh no. Oh no. Sorry for the trouble folks. Can we squeeze through? We need to squeeze through. George, watch your cane."
"Sorry about your foot there. Oops. Sorry. Come on, Mabel. Now 28. 28. I'm supposed to be in 28. Where is it? I don't see it."
"Do the numbers go up or down? We should have come from the other side."
"Well, it's too late for that, isn't it. 28. This says 15. What number do you have?"
"I don't know. I left it in my purse. Should I get it out?"
At this point she began dumping her checkbook, wallet, and various hard candies and used tissues from her purse into the aisle.
"Forget about it. Forget about it. We're on the wrong side. Come on. Come on. Sorry, we need to squeeze through again."
"Are we on the wrong side? Oh George, we're on the wrong side. Hold up a minute, I've got to get this stuff back in my purse."
"Where's 28? There's only odd numbers here. I only see odd numbers. Are you in 27?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I just want to sit down."
At this point, someone explained that all the even numbers were on the other side of the theater.
"Oh holy hell. Mabel, we've got to get going."
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Good lord."
I love the fine arts.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Big Girls Don't Cry
Exciting news, America. Tyra has finally chosen a plus-sized model to represent us as America's Next Top Model. And what's even better is that she's totally hilarious and says the things we're all thinking about the other contestants, like "Fatima really just needs to eat something" and "apparently Lauren doesn't understand how to use a knife." There are actually rumors floating around the internet that Tyra actually took a thin girl and fattened her up for these purposes, but I tend to not believe them. Tyra's way too busy tormenting her talk show staff to do anything like that.
The even better news is that I have once again correctly selected the Top Model winner. Around the beginning of April I began privately predicting that Tyra would invite the full figured Whitney to "kiss her fat ass" as the next America's Next. Not due to any special talent on Whitney's part, but mainly just because they haven't had a bigger girl win yet, whereas freaky-looking blond gals have pretty much been a dime a dozen. It's just like when I selected Saleisha for the crown despite the fact that she had been saddled with an early '80s Tootie haircut.
But the best news of all is probably that I've finally managed to name-check a Fergie song in a blog title. I just wish it weren't so hard to make "Fergilicious" seem relevant.
Exciting news, America. Tyra has finally chosen a plus-sized model to represent us as America's Next Top Model. And what's even better is that she's totally hilarious and says the things we're all thinking about the other contestants, like "Fatima really just needs to eat something" and "apparently Lauren doesn't understand how to use a knife." There are actually rumors floating around the internet that Tyra actually took a thin girl and fattened her up for these purposes, but I tend to not believe them. Tyra's way too busy tormenting her talk show staff to do anything like that.
The even better news is that I have once again correctly selected the Top Model winner. Around the beginning of April I began privately predicting that Tyra would invite the full figured Whitney to "kiss her fat ass" as the next America's Next. Not due to any special talent on Whitney's part, but mainly just because they haven't had a bigger girl win yet, whereas freaky-looking blond gals have pretty much been a dime a dozen. It's just like when I selected Saleisha for the crown despite the fact that she had been saddled with an early '80s Tootie haircut.
But the best news of all is probably that I've finally managed to name-check a Fergie song in a blog title. I just wish it weren't so hard to make "Fergilicious" seem relevant.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
My Actual Hills Research from Monday Night
As I may have mentioned, each Monday I watch The Hills with a coalition of the willing. As we watch we come up with vital research questions that one of us must answer using the finest Internet sources available. For your greater edification, I reproduce below some choice excerpts from the many fine answers I gathered this week:
1. How old is Brent Bolthouse?
According to Brent’s Myspace profile, he is 38. Also, he is Caucasian, does not smoke or drink, and makes over $250,000 a year. He asks God for the serenity he needs to accept those things he cannot change, the courage to change those things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
2. What will Heidi’s job duties be in Las Vegas?
According to a Bolthouse job listing at theladders.com, a marketing professional at Bolthouse is expected to develop marketing plans and timelines for new venues, manage the day-to-day execution of plans, help in brainstorming new initiatives, and compile and update targeted mailing lists of influencers. Of course, it also requires 8-10 years of experience in the industry.
3. Alkaline Trio discography and membership.
Formed by ex-Jerkwater and Traitors drummer Matt Skiba (vocals/guitar), Glenn Porter (drums/vocals) — formerly of 88 Fingers Louie — and Rob Doran (bass/vocals), Alkaline Trio was brought together in 1997 by heartbreak, angst, and the companionship of drinking. Their albums are: 1998’s Goddamnit, 2000’s Maybe I’ll Catch Fire, 2001’s From Here to Infirmary, 2003’s Good Mourning, 2005’s Crimson, and 2008’s Agony and Irony.
4. Is there a soul behind Kimberly’s eyes?
No. As imbringingbloggingback.blogspot.com, points out. Kimberly’s “cubicle” is utterly empty and it’s not even clear that she actually works at Bolthouse. She frequently squints while talking, making it appear that she must read cue cards to express even the most basic emotions. She is clearly a robot.
5. Who is Sam? Is he hot?
A search of Brent Bolthouse’s Myspace friends revealed a “Sam” who is 30 years old and lives in New York. He does not appear to be hot.
6. Is breakup leave part of the Bolthouse benefits package?
According to its website, Bolthouse offers full vacation and medical/personal leave. It is unclear whether traveling to Colorado to get “some space” from Spencer is included under personal leave.
As I may have mentioned, each Monday I watch The Hills with a coalition of the willing. As we watch we come up with vital research questions that one of us must answer using the finest Internet sources available. For your greater edification, I reproduce below some choice excerpts from the many fine answers I gathered this week:
1. How old is Brent Bolthouse?
According to Brent’s Myspace profile, he is 38. Also, he is Caucasian, does not smoke or drink, and makes over $250,000 a year. He asks God for the serenity he needs to accept those things he cannot change, the courage to change those things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
2. What will Heidi’s job duties be in Las Vegas?
According to a Bolthouse job listing at theladders.com, a marketing professional at Bolthouse is expected to develop marketing plans and timelines for new venues, manage the day-to-day execution of plans, help in brainstorming new initiatives, and compile and update targeted mailing lists of influencers. Of course, it also requires 8-10 years of experience in the industry.
3. Alkaline Trio discography and membership.
Formed by ex-Jerkwater and Traitors drummer Matt Skiba (vocals/guitar), Glenn Porter (drums/vocals) — formerly of 88 Fingers Louie — and Rob Doran (bass/vocals), Alkaline Trio was brought together in 1997 by heartbreak, angst, and the companionship of drinking. Their albums are: 1998’s Goddamnit, 2000’s Maybe I’ll Catch Fire, 2001’s From Here to Infirmary, 2003’s Good Mourning, 2005’s Crimson, and 2008’s Agony and Irony.
4. Is there a soul behind Kimberly’s eyes?
No. As imbringingbloggingback.blogspot.com, points out. Kimberly’s “cubicle” is utterly empty and it’s not even clear that she actually works at Bolthouse. She frequently squints while talking, making it appear that she must read cue cards to express even the most basic emotions. She is clearly a robot.
5. Who is Sam? Is he hot?
A search of Brent Bolthouse’s Myspace friends revealed a “Sam” who is 30 years old and lives in New York. He does not appear to be hot.
6. Is breakup leave part of the Bolthouse benefits package?
According to its website, Bolthouse offers full vacation and medical/personal leave. It is unclear whether traveling to Colorado to get “some space” from Spencer is included under personal leave.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Possibly Too Terrible Even to Be Enjoyed Ironically
On Friday night we rented Over Her Dead Body starring Ms. Eva Longoria-Parker. Now, anyone who saw the commercials for this feature obviously understood that it was going to be awful -- when the major selling point is that your star gets crushed by an ice sculpture, it's clearly going to be a rocky road. But it's only once you've seen the entire feature that you realize that they must have worked in a lab for months to develop the perfect combination of elements (a little unnecessary gay subplot here, a little pseudo spirituality there) to make this in fact the worst movie of all time.
It's impossible to pick the single most terrible element. Yes, Eva Longoria-Parker is bad, and spends the entire film snapping at people like an abused Chihuahua, but Lake Bell may actually be worse. For one thing, she delivers every line as though she's just walked in from the next room and been surprised to find out that filming is in fact taking place. It doesn't help that she is presented as an incredibly desirable sex object, when she can perhaps most charitably be described as a slightly more mannish version of Steffi Graf. Then there's Jason Biggs, whose continued employment in Hollywood is perhaps a greater mystery than Ashley Tisdale's ever-shifting nose. He apparently believes himself to be starring in a community theater production of The Music Man. Paul Rudd, for his part, simply appears dazed. And about 50. I think it's entirely possible they forgot to hire a makeup crew for the production.
As far as the writing goes, it does make a person wonder how exactly one scripts five minutes of flatulence. Or how a "fat dog" gag was deemed not only hilarious but worthy of a reprise. Or why it is that, after a person has lost his wife, his sister's main, nearly obsessive concern would be seeing to it that he begins dating again immediately. Or why the use of a psychic would necessarily be involved. So many questions.
Anyway, you should definitely get out and rent Over Her Dead Body today!
On Friday night we rented Over Her Dead Body starring Ms. Eva Longoria-Parker. Now, anyone who saw the commercials for this feature obviously understood that it was going to be awful -- when the major selling point is that your star gets crushed by an ice sculpture, it's clearly going to be a rocky road. But it's only once you've seen the entire feature that you realize that they must have worked in a lab for months to develop the perfect combination of elements (a little unnecessary gay subplot here, a little pseudo spirituality there) to make this in fact the worst movie of all time.
It's impossible to pick the single most terrible element. Yes, Eva Longoria-Parker is bad, and spends the entire film snapping at people like an abused Chihuahua, but Lake Bell may actually be worse. For one thing, she delivers every line as though she's just walked in from the next room and been surprised to find out that filming is in fact taking place. It doesn't help that she is presented as an incredibly desirable sex object, when she can perhaps most charitably be described as a slightly more mannish version of Steffi Graf. Then there's Jason Biggs, whose continued employment in Hollywood is perhaps a greater mystery than Ashley Tisdale's ever-shifting nose. He apparently believes himself to be starring in a community theater production of The Music Man. Paul Rudd, for his part, simply appears dazed. And about 50. I think it's entirely possible they forgot to hire a makeup crew for the production.
As far as the writing goes, it does make a person wonder how exactly one scripts five minutes of flatulence. Or how a "fat dog" gag was deemed not only hilarious but worthy of a reprise. Or why it is that, after a person has lost his wife, his sister's main, nearly obsessive concern would be seeing to it that he begins dating again immediately. Or why the use of a psychic would necessarily be involved. So many questions.
Anyway, you should definitely get out and rent Over Her Dead Body today!
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Recent Events
So I went to Walgreen's at 11 PM tonight for no apparent reason. I bought fish oil pills (they're nutritious AND delicious) and an eight-pack of paper towels ("paper," as my cleaning lady calls it, is one of her favorite things in the world). I used the Chase ATM. I even tested my blood pressure while I was there. Tis a very glamorous life I lead.
In other news, I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am for next week's Top Model finale. For the first time ever, a plus sized model has made in to the top three. And as a bonus, she's an enormous bitch! She keeps saying the things we're all thinking, like "Hey, Fatima looks like a giant skeleton!" and "Wow, Lauren doesn't know how to use a knife!" I haven't really been so nuts about any of her photos, but hey, Top Model isn't really about, you know, modeling. It's more about getting emaciated women to cry for no reason.
Speaking of which, apparently Tyra has now done 500 episodes of her talk show. I know this because she had a special episode in which she talked about her highlights. Which included an episode in which she conquered her fear of dolphins and another episode in which she conquered her fear of Naomi Campbell. I'm pretty sure I know which one I think is scarier.
So I went to Walgreen's at 11 PM tonight for no apparent reason. I bought fish oil pills (they're nutritious AND delicious) and an eight-pack of paper towels ("paper," as my cleaning lady calls it, is one of her favorite things in the world). I used the Chase ATM. I even tested my blood pressure while I was there. Tis a very glamorous life I lead.
In other news, I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am for next week's Top Model finale. For the first time ever, a plus sized model has made in to the top three. And as a bonus, she's an enormous bitch! She keeps saying the things we're all thinking, like "Hey, Fatima looks like a giant skeleton!" and "Wow, Lauren doesn't know how to use a knife!" I haven't really been so nuts about any of her photos, but hey, Top Model isn't really about, you know, modeling. It's more about getting emaciated women to cry for no reason.
Speaking of which, apparently Tyra has now done 500 episodes of her talk show. I know this because she had a special episode in which she talked about her highlights. Which included an episode in which she conquered her fear of dolphins and another episode in which she conquered her fear of Naomi Campbell. I'm pretty sure I know which one I think is scarier.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Helpful Suggestions for Spicing Up CNN's Primary Coverage
-- Add a little image of Godzilla attacking to the map of Indiana.
-- Cover states people actually care about instead.
-- Add questions about embarrassing sexual predilections to the exit polling.
-- Have Jeffrey Toobin go topless.
-- Take a page from American Idol and have Mariah Carey "mentor" the candidates.
-- Take away Larry King's meds.
-- Ratchet up the random shouting and crying factor.
-- Include cameos from the cast of The Hills.
-- Three words: funny hat day.
-- Just start making shit up.
-- Add a little image of Godzilla attacking to the map of Indiana.
-- Cover states people actually care about instead.
-- Add questions about embarrassing sexual predilections to the exit polling.
-- Have Jeffrey Toobin go topless.
-- Take a page from American Idol and have Mariah Carey "mentor" the candidates.
-- Take away Larry King's meds.
-- Ratchet up the random shouting and crying factor.
-- Include cameos from the cast of The Hills.
-- Three words: funny hat day.
-- Just start making shit up.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Hospitality Desk
This weekend I had a fun service experience. Walking into a restaurant that shall remain nameless, we found that there was no waiting area to speak of -- such that aspirant diners simply had to sidle up alongside current customers -- and no hostess to greet new arrivals. After about five minutes of fruitlessly attempting to get eye contact from any waiter who wandered in our direction, we successfully got our name onto a list. This list was never heard from again.
"Mark, party of three?" a crazy-haired, potentially coked-up waitress would occasionally intone. "Wait, were there other people here before you? I'm sorry, I need a party of two. I've got a bunch of deuces ahead of you, though. Don't worry, everyone's going to get taken care of. We're going to have a lot of turnover, a lot of turnover. Everyone always comes at once."
When we asked how long she thought the wait might be, she assured us that there would be no wait at all because she was sure that a lot of people would be leaving right away. It sounded a little bit like a threat.
"Mark, party of three?" she continued. "Hey, I've got a four-person table. I can take two deuces, if you're willing to be friendly. Want to just share a table? I need a couple of deuces. Wait, who are you? When did you get here? Who was first? I don't know."
We did, in fact, get seated within ten minutes, so I can't complain too much. But poor Mark and his party of three waited another ten, even though they got there before any of us. And they kept casting us nasty looks while we ate. It was enough to cause serious indigestion.
This weekend I had a fun service experience. Walking into a restaurant that shall remain nameless, we found that there was no waiting area to speak of -- such that aspirant diners simply had to sidle up alongside current customers -- and no hostess to greet new arrivals. After about five minutes of fruitlessly attempting to get eye contact from any waiter who wandered in our direction, we successfully got our name onto a list. This list was never heard from again.
"Mark, party of three?" a crazy-haired, potentially coked-up waitress would occasionally intone. "Wait, were there other people here before you? I'm sorry, I need a party of two. I've got a bunch of deuces ahead of you, though. Don't worry, everyone's going to get taken care of. We're going to have a lot of turnover, a lot of turnover. Everyone always comes at once."
When we asked how long she thought the wait might be, she assured us that there would be no wait at all because she was sure that a lot of people would be leaving right away. It sounded a little bit like a threat.
"Mark, party of three?" she continued. "Hey, I've got a four-person table. I can take two deuces, if you're willing to be friendly. Want to just share a table? I need a couple of deuces. Wait, who are you? When did you get here? Who was first? I don't know."
We did, in fact, get seated within ten minutes, so I can't complain too much. But poor Mark and his party of three waited another ten, even though they got there before any of us. And they kept casting us nasty looks while we ate. It was enough to cause serious indigestion.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Spring Cleaning
I cleaned up my office for the first time in several months today, and learned that I am apparently insane. Why do I feel the need to hold on to newspaper articles from two and a half years ago and print outs of cases I don't even remember reading in the first place? Why do I have approximately 400 mini note pads with one or two pages of notes in them? Why is there a thin layer of paper clips covering the surfaces of my office? If shame were an emotion I were capable of feeling, I imagine I'd be there right about now.
I have also been listening to hot jams while I work today. Earlier I had a little bit of Mariah (or "Mimi," as the kids call her these days) and now I'm working through my aggression with some Kelly Clarkson (or "Muffin Top," as I like to imagine the kids calling her these days). I feel a bit like dancing around the room holding a pen in front of myself like a microphone as though I were in some terrible movie for people with ovaries. I will restrain myself, however, largely because I feel most certain I would end up tripping and stabbing myself to death.
I cleaned up my office for the first time in several months today, and learned that I am apparently insane. Why do I feel the need to hold on to newspaper articles from two and a half years ago and print outs of cases I don't even remember reading in the first place? Why do I have approximately 400 mini note pads with one or two pages of notes in them? Why is there a thin layer of paper clips covering the surfaces of my office? If shame were an emotion I were capable of feeling, I imagine I'd be there right about now.
I have also been listening to hot jams while I work today. Earlier I had a little bit of Mariah (or "Mimi," as the kids call her these days) and now I'm working through my aggression with some Kelly Clarkson (or "Muffin Top," as I like to imagine the kids calling her these days). I feel a bit like dancing around the room holding a pen in front of myself like a microphone as though I were in some terrible movie for people with ovaries. I will restrain myself, however, largely because I feel most certain I would end up tripping and stabbing myself to death.
