Dear Santa...

As I type this, you are in Pittsburgh. At least, according to NORAD.

And I know that I’ve already received the ultimate Christmas gift. His name is Justin. But I have been very, very good this year. So just in case you are feeling ultra generous, here are 12 things I wouldn’t mind finding under my tree when I wake.

For your convenience, I've listed them in price order. Not that money should matter to a man with elves...

-- A Big Top Cupcake Maker (got it already, one down!)
-- A Starring Role in a Classic Novel ($25.50)
-- The World’s Largest Gummy Bear ($29.99)
-- A Pair of Feety Pajamas ($44.99)
-- An iPhone on Verizon (make it happen!)
-- A Subscription to the Bacon of the Month Club ($575.95)
-- An Arts & Crafts Closet ($1,301.36)
-- The Backyard Blizzard Snowmaking Machine ($2,689.00)
-- A Trip for Two to Learn to Cook in Tuscany ($5,590.00)
-- A Zoltar Fortune Telling Machine ($8,999.95)
-- A Cupcake Car ($25,000.00)
-- The World’s Largest TV ($149,000.00)

So… I think that’s about it. Until next year.

Merry Christmas & enjoy the cookies (homemade, just for you!),
Jenny

The Rachel

So I’m down in Del Boca Vista for the holidays visiting my parents, which is great. Except for one thing: I miss my fiancé something awful.

Spending two weeks in the retirement community to end all retirement communities is certainly relaxing (which I need), but it also means I’ve got lots of time on my hands. And a lot of time to miss him. So I’ve been trying to keep busy. Shopping. Cooking. Eating. Decorating. Watching movies. Going swimming. Driving around the neighborhood. Getting my hair cut.

Yep. You heard me right. Getting my hair cut. In Florida. At a retirement community.

Brave? Nah!

I’ve been thinking about getting it chopped for a while. Admittedly, it was overgrown, shaggy, shapeless, lifeless and all-around unflattering. You know, when the split ends are 5 shades lighter than the roots? Pretty. I needed an intervention. But in my defense, I attribute my hair-don’t to the fact that my hairstyle doesn’t require much maintenance. Actually, I'm lying. I don’t even have a hairstyle. I just have hair. And LOTS of it (being from Jersey and all).

My mom and I thought it would be fun to go get our hair done together. So we cheated on her normal salon -- Root 466 -- and made an appointment at a new one closer to my parents’ house. It was called Dimensions, which doesn’t really sound like a salon to me -- frankly, it sounds more like a rehab facility or a special ed program.

But we went with it and got appointments with a stylist named Josephine and the ambiguously-gendered Chris. Going in, I was 95% sure that guy or girl, I was choosing Chris. The name Josephine made me think of a chain-smoking, bourbon-drinking old broad with a hairy chin.

Well, a goateed, gap-toothed man in an embroidered black and white bowling shirt approached us. In the most friendly southern drawl I've ever heard, he said, “Well hey there, gals! My name's Chris!” I immediately turned to my mother and whispered, “I’m rolling the dice with Josephine.”

Call me a snob, I don’t care.

Next, in walks Josephine. And she didn’t have any hairs on her chin at all! She looked normal. Roughly my age. And in the first few minutes, she told me she was from Long Island. Now we’re talking! I decided to be bold and take my hair by the roots: I’m here for a cut, let’s get a CUT!

"Long layers!" I declared, and off we went.

After my scalp took a beating in the shampoo chair and she liberally applied detangler to my mangy locks, Josephine went to town. And by went to town, I mean that by the end, there was more hair on the floor than there was on my head. Seriously. She had to sweep 3 separate times. You know like when Edward Scissorhands is at work and his eyes glaze over and stuff is flying everywhere? Yeah. It was like that.

After almost an hour of snipping and moussing and drying and curling and straightening and spraying (and praying) and balming, she was done. I spun around towards the mirror, not knowing what to expect.

Now, I wasn’t particularly nervous, mind you. My philosophy -- ever since a truly horrendous perm I once got back in the 10th grade -- is that it’s just hair. It grows back.

Anyway, I took a look at the front and the back with that little hand-held mirror thingy. And I actually liked it! Huh?!? Go Josephine!! There was just this one thing. This nagging thought...

I’ve seen this look before.

Anyway, my mom came over and her hair was exactly the same as when we walked into Dimensions. Seems she got an un-cut from Chris (who incidentally was from Arkansas -- is that considered the South? -- I dunno).

We went over to pay and the bill was $64. Naturally, I assumed that was for each of us.

Nope.

It was for BOTH of us! $64 for TWO haircuts. Plus my mom had a $10 gift card from some promotion they did a YEAR AGO. And they honored it! So that’s $54 for two haircuts. Or… $27 PER HAIRCUT. My brain exploded thinking about the cheapness of it all. I don’t even think you can get ONE eyebrow waxed in NYC for $27. Unbelievable! Like a Christmas miracle.

So I literally skip out of the salon, after spending mere pocket change on a haircut I'm loving more and more each minute. I feel 5 lbs lighter. Then it dawns on me, where I’ve seen it before.

It’s The Rachel.

Freaking Josephine from Long Island gave me a 15-year-old haircut! Awesome. I thought about getting annoyed, but for $27, really, who gives a crap?

I just hope my fiancé likes it. And if not… it grows back.

Joy to the World

I have been a blogger slacker. I know this. You know this. We all know this. Mea culpa.

As a peace offering, I come bearing good news. Actually... scratch that. This is super-terrific-happy-HUGE-totally awesome-fantastically wonderful-can’t even believe this is happening-somebody PLEASE PINCH ME news.

I am engaged!

I KNOW!!! News this good bears repeating: I. Am. Engaged. WOOOOO HOOOOOOOOO!!!! You may think it’s kinda sudden, but I say, when you know, you know. And, believe me, we know.

You know?

Of course you do! You faithfully followed my online dating disasters. You cheered when I officially took myself off the market because I met a truly wonderful man. And now, I believe it is only fitting to share how this perfect engagement happened.

Facebook may have known it first, but YOU’LL know it best…

We’d been talking about getting engaged for a while. I knew it was looming. Hell, I even picked out the ring! I kind of assumed it would happen over a weekend, either before or after the holidays.

So, my parents recently came up from Florida -- 5 whole days (and nights) in my 550 sqft deluxe apartment in the sky, and we had a great time! But since my boyfriend and I didn't have very much time together that weekend, I suggested that I visit him in CT on Monday, after my mom and dad were safely back in the Sunshine State.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll just see you on Wednesday.”

“Fine,” I said, and hung up the phone. Disappointed.

Shortly after, I received a text saying he’d reconsidered. Turns out, I was right! I really should come up for a visit on Monday night.

I paused momentarily on the fact that I was right. (That’s always lovely to hear.) And then I made plans to come visit, all the while thinking this was MY idea...

Fast forward to Monday after work. I caught the 5:28 out of Grand Central and arrived in Stamford around 6:15. He picked me up at the train station, as per usual, and let me know he’d ordered us pepperoni pizzas from a local place we love, Colony. Yum.

We grabbed the pizzas and drove back to his condo. When we walked in the door, I saw his halls were all decked out for Christmas. His tree was framed in the picture window. Amidst the twinkle lights, about a hundred different ornaments hung from the branches -- ranging from Jimmy Buffett margaritas to Dolphins helmets to Montauk lighthouses -- each one with a special significance. The house smelled of the holidays, a mix of cranberry and evergreen. And three little stockings hung from the windowsill.

One for him. One for his 7 year old daughter. And one for me. (Awwww!)

It felt like a normal night, with a dash of holiday cheer. We chatted and enjoyed our pizza. We watched two episodes of The Office. And I told him the most long-winded, never-ending saga about a good friend’s horrible date (remind me to tell you about it sometime -- it’s a doozy!).

I must have blathered on for thirty minutes straight. At least.

Around 8pm, I flipped on the TV Guide menu to see that Santa Claus Is Coming to Town was on ABC. We were totally in the mood for a Christmas cartoon, but not that one. So he dug into his extensive DVD collection and popped in ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. You know the one -- with the mice? And the broken clock? Love it.

Anyway, just before he hit play, he disappeared. I didn’t think much of it. When he came back into the living room, I saw a flash of orange in his hand. “Score,” I thought. “A Reese’s peanut butter cup!”

Um… it wasn’t a peanut butter cup.

He approached me as I was sitting on the couch, by the light of the Christmas tree, and dropped to one knee. The orange flash was actually a ring box. And inside was the most beautiful ring I’ve ever worn. And the most precious gift I’ve ever received.

The ring has three stones -- one to represent him, his daughter, and me -- with a sparkly deep blue sapphire in the center, which just happens to be the birthstone for September (the month he was born).

I was SO stunned I may have blacked out for a minute. (Is that what I THINK it is? Is this happening?? Did he fall off the couch, or is he really on one knee? OMG, it IS happening!!!) At first, this inner dialogue prevented me from hearing the lovely words coming from my boyfriend’s -- now fiancé’s -- mouth. But once I snapped out of shock, I said yes. Yes. YEESSSS!

And I’m pretty sure I thanked him about fifty times.

That’s when the waterworks started. Now, I don’t consider myself a big crier, but these were tears of joy. When I went to hug him and pulled away, a giant streak of my black/brown mascara went across his cheek like he had just been accosted by Tammy Faye Bakker. It wasn’t pretty.

But it was perfect. Perfectly romantic. Perfectly us.

So that’s the story. And before you ask, we have NO idea about a wedding date yet, but it will be sooner than later. We’re thinking this summer, maybe?

Because as much as I love being his fiancée, I truly can’t wait to become his wife.

xoxo

I Love New York (Sorta)

Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while. I’m still adjusting to the end of daylight savings time.

Yesterday, I got in a taxi and the driver wasn't talking on the phone, or driving as though we were the getaway car in a bank robbery. In fact, he was a good driver, and I didn't get car sick AT ALL.

How refreshing!

It’s moments like that when I think I love New York. Or maybe, it’s more accurate to say I’ve LEARNED to love it. But it wasn’t easy! To me, the city is an acquired taste, like stout or stinky cheese.

I was born in the Bronx and lived there for almost 6 years as a kid, but I really grew up in Jersey, and I went to college in Connecticut but came back to The Apple to work, and I've spent my whole career here.  These are the things I’ve learned NOT to do in the City, which has made my time living here as an adult (16 months and counting) much more enjoyable.

Consider it a public service...

Don’t… Eat Street Meat
Don’t get me wrong, I love junk food (Bloomy does too!). But consuming anything known as a “dirty water dog” is a no-no in my book. Nevermind the stale pretzels, giant clumps of crusty peanuts, and drippy gyros (since when is meat gray?). I don’t care how famished you are, either keep walking, or invest in a stomach pump.

Don’t… Eat at a Chain Restaurant
Look, I like a Fridays, or a California Pizza Kitchen, or a Chevys just as much as the next guy. But there are a bazillion amazing eateries in the Big Apple. So why would anyone EVER eat at the Olive Garden in the middle of Times Square? Everything costs 3x more here than it does in your hometown, and it is probably one of the least authentic NY eating experiences you can have. For the true flavor of the city, you’re better off with street meat -- that’s saying a lot!

Don’t… Eat at The View (that spinning restaurant atop the Marriott Marquis)
Maybe they think you’ll be so distracted by the skyline (look, it’s a tall building, oh WAIT… it’s… ANOTHER tall building!) you won’t notice your $50 rubber chicken. Talk about a tourist trap. Oh, and the same kinda goes for the bedazzled spectacle (eyesore?) that is Tavern on the Green. Well, maybe just go one time, but try to hit up a holiday buffet, so that you can really get your money’s worth by eating your weight in chicken fingers. But hurry, they're closing fast!

Don’t… Wait on Line at a Restaurant
I like to EAT in restaurants, not stand in them. So if I haven’t made reservations, I don’t go. Simple as that. NY is too big, and there are too many eateries (many of which serve the exact same things) to justify waiting on line for a table. Period.

Don’t… Bother with the Empire State Building
Speaking of waiting in lines, if that's your idea of a good time, then go here. There are 5 different lines you’ll need to wait on to get to the top, then you’ll stand on a skinny balcony and look around for 5 minutes, then wait on a few more lines to get back down to civilization. Save yourself 2 hours, stand really close to your TV, and watch the end of Sleepless in Seattle instead.

Don’t… Shop at Century 21
For more years than I care to admit, when I heard people refer to this discount shopping destination, I thought they were talking about the real estate company. You know the one. With the gold jackets. Well, finally, I put 2+2 together, and went. Personally, I’d rather not elbow my way through an angry crowd of aggressive tourists/bargain hunters just to purchase a picked over, wrinkled, semi-defective designer blouse with a weird buckle on the side. Even if it is $15.99. So, thanks, but no thanks.

Don’t… Shop at Any Store Claiming to Be “Going Out of Business”
Whether it’s electronics or shoes or cornflakes, merchandise in New York City is already marked up super high. So the “sale” price likely just gets you even with the full price at a store in your hometown. Skip it.

Don’t… Take a Pedi-Cab Anywhere
Unless you want a sweaty teenager to take your wallet for a ride (or you like darting in and out of oncoming traffic like your own personal game of Frogger), skip this death wish disguised as public transportation. On a related note, skip the horse-drawn carriage rides in Central Park. The old horses will make you sad, and the dirty looks you get from real New Yorkers will make you want to crawl underneath the public blanket they supply for your “comfort” (but never wash). Wrong on all counts.

Don’t… Keep a Car in the City
I miss my car. I miss my car. I MISS MY CAR. But a car in the city is a luxury you want no part of. When I commuted in, I was paying $510/month for a garage. Um, hellooo? Street parking is no treat either -- who can figure out those signs? And don’t even get me started on the damage to your bumpers, doors, side mirrors, tires, etc. So plan to ditch the wheels unless you enjoy turning your car into a clunker.

And Finally, Don’t… Take the Subway
Forget that the subway is an underground haven for perverts. Nevermind that every platform stinks like hot garbage. Disregard the giant rats that scurry beneath the tracks. Excuse the fact that the voices over the loudspeakers make Charlie Brown's teacher sound articulate. Avert your eyes from the advertisements when you are actually ON the train (assuming it wasn’t cancelled, delayed, or re-routed), because you do not want to read the colorful commentary provided by fellow straphangers. And don’t even THINK about the cootie colonies that thrive on the poles you are supposed to hold on to for “safety.” Actually… don’t forget ANY of these things -- they are precisely why the best way to get around NYC is on your own two feet.

So, am I allergic to NYC, or have I just written the 10 Commandments for City Life? Tell me what YOU think below!

Creepy Commercials

As you know, I just cleared out my DVR.

When I’m watching TV, like most people, I zip right through the commercials. (Even though I kinda love them.) But there are 2 that stop me in my tracks, mainly because they creep me OUT.

The first is for Tabasco and it involves singing pepperonis. Have you seen this? It is the stuff of nightmares! Now I can’t even LOOK at a pizza without expecting it to burst out in barbershop quartet-esque song. Let alone EAT one. Thanks, jerky Tabasco!




The second is for DirectTV and it involves an updated scene from Tommy Boy with David Spade and Chris Farley, who just so happens to be dead. And this isn’t the first time they used someone who died tragically in a commercial (hello little girl from Poltergeist). Super classy!




What do YOU think? Watch the commercials above, and then vote below:

poll by twiigs.com

Spooky Getups to Skip

Does anyone dress up for Halloween anymore?

I don’t know. I probably haven’t in 10 years. At least. In fact, I wasn’t even in town for it last year!

But THIS year, it falls on a Saturday. So just in case you are headed to a party, or a parade, or you still go Trick-or-Treating (at your advanced age), here are some costumes you’ll probably want to avoid:

#1 - Don’t Be: Edward Cullen & Bella Swan
Do Be: Under-exposed, but equally blood-thirsty, Bill Compton & Sookie Stackhouse

#2 - Don’t Be: Bernie Madoff
Do Be: Suze Orman, who I hear also has a teeny weenie

#3 - Don’t Be: Betty & Don Draper
Do Be: Peggy Olson & Duck (don’t forget the post-sex cigarettes!)

#4 - Don’t Be: Billy Mays & a bucket of OxyClean
Do Be: Vince & a life-sized Slap Chop
(Incidentally, Mays’ SON is hosting this contest. I say, “Boo!”)

#5 - Don’t Be: Falcon “Balloon Boy” Heene and his crazy dad
Do Be: Max and any of the Wild Things who want to eat him

#6 - Don’t Be: Kanye West & Taylor Swift
Do Be: Bronson “Balki” Pinchot who recently started picking on Tom Cruise

#7 - Don’t Be: Kate Gosselin, mom of the year
Do Be: The table-flipping Real Housewife of NJ, Teresa Giudice

#8 - Don’t Be: Lady Gaga
Do Be: Amy Winehouse & her "fantastic" new boobs (bonus points for adding her creepy dad)

#9 - Don’t Be: Michael Jackson
Do Be: Weird Al, it’s about time for a comeback and Eat It was classic

#10 - Don’t Be: A Philly cheese steak or a New York cheesecake
Do Be: The last issue of Gourmet magazine, RIP

# 11 - Don’t Be: Sarah Palin
Do Be: Franken-Biden, just paint yourself green and scare the kids

#12 - Don’t Be: Saw, the jigsaw killer
Do Be: Pennywise, the killer clown from It

# 13 - Don’t Be: The Twitter bluebird
Do Be: The Fail Whale


So there you have it! Add your own Do's and Don'ts below...

I’ll accept 20% of all ghoulish prizes (cash and otherwise) that you might win as a result of skipping mainstream pop culture costumes in favor of slightly more creative gear.

And while we’re on the topic of Halloween... did anyone see the Charlie Brown Great Pumpkin promo that ABC was running this week? Or was it just a nightmare? I can't find it online, but I can say with confidence that The Peanuts and Rap go together like chocolate and feet.

Word.

Overdue Review

This is my favorite time of year. Fall TV is in full swing! My DVR, however, was 95% full until last week.

What was clogging it up? All the new TV shows I wanted to watch, but hadn’t yet found the time.

So episodes piled up, week after week, unwatched. Sad. Alone. Luckily, a nasty bout with the flu (no, not THAT flu -- just the regular old garden variety -- I am oink-free) and a night or three of serious laundry helped me get all caught up.

So, here is my MUCH overdue review of the “new” shows you should (and shouldn’t) be watching. Also, stay tuned for my gripping recap of the Yanks & Angels ALCS playoffs, which I will post sometime in December…

THE GOOD (as in, if you aren’t watching these shows, I am stealing your TV):
Bored to Death (Sundays at 9:30pm on HBO)
In a Nutshell: A dark comedy about a struggling novelist, moonlighting as a bungling private eye.
Why I Love It: Jason Schwartzman reminds me of a stoned Encyclopedia Brown.
Scene-Stealer: Ted Danson, his party-going editor, has the best rug I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Glee (Wednesdays at 9pm on FOX)
In a Nutshell: A musical dramedy about a high school “show choir” trying to regain its glory.
Why I Love It: It’s escapism and the perfect mix of show tunes/pop hits. Consider me a Gleek!
Scene-Stealer: Hands-down, it’s bitch-tastic Jane Lynch, as head coach of “The Cheerios.”


THE BAD (and not in a good way):
The Beautiful Life: TBL (Cancelled on The CW)
In a Nutshell: A drama about 5 vapid clones and a bumpkin in the high-stakes modeling world.
Why I Hate It: Ashton Kutcher aside, this phony show was unwatchable. Models Inc, anyone?
Scene-Killer: Tough call, but Elle Macpherson should just look pretty (and fix that horrible hair).

Hank (Wednesdays at 8pm on ABC)
In a Nutshell: A comedy about a CEO who gets canned and reconnects with his small-town roots.
Why I Hate It: It’s boring. And depressing. And Frasier Crane should not live in the sticks.
Scene-Killer: Kelsey Grammar, because he does not do "Average Joe" very well.

Melrose Place (Tuesdays at 9pm on The CW):
In a Nutshell: A soap about 7 twenty-somethings living in a drama-filled apartment complex.
Why I Hate It: It lacks the campiness of the original. Even La Locklear won't save this stinker.
Scene-Killer: Ashlee "Anti-Facial Expression" Simpson-Wentz, who was canned last week.


THE BUBBLE (on a scale from A to Z, I give these a J):
Community (Thursdays at 8pm on NBC)
In a Nutshell: A comedy about a lawyer who discovers his degree is invalid and returns to school.
Why I’m Mixed: I LOVE Joel McHale. But they’re not giving me enough to work with.
Scene-Saver: Chevy Chase, as an aging moist-towelette tycoon who has been married 7 times.

Cougar Town (Wednesdays at 9:30pm on ABC)
In a Nutshell: A rom-com about a recently divorced older woman who dates younger men.
Why I’m Mixed: I like Courtney Cox but there's nothing redeeming about a horny mom.
Scene-Saver: Dan Byrd, her 17 year old son (from Aliens in America, which was hilarious).

Eastwick (Wednesdays at 10pm on ABC)
In a Nutshell: A spooky drama about 3 witches and a mystery man who unlocks their powers.
Why I’m Mixed: A great mix of Charmed and Gilmore Girls, but also Desperate Housewives, which just seems… desperate.
Scene-Saver: Tie between Lindsay Price and Sara Rue, best buds who investigate mysteries.

The Middle (Wednesdays at 8:30pm ABC)
In a Nutshell: A comedy about a mom who is the worst salesperson at her used car dealership.
Why I’m Mixed: This show IS Malcom in the Middle (down to the odd-looking youngest child), but I do like Patricia Heaton.
Scene-Saver: Her husband, Neil Flynn (from Scrubs), and his obsession with brutal honesty.

Modern Family (Wednesdays at 9pm ABC)
In a Nutshell: A mockumentary on the definitions of family via a patriarch and his 2 kids.
Why I’m Mixed: Sometimes funny, but I wish it was quirkier -- a la Arrested Development.
Scene-Saver: Tie between “cool dad” Ty Burrell, flamboyant boyfriend Eric Stonestreet, and Rico Rodriguez II, the coffee-drinking kid.

The Vampire Diaries (Thursdays at 8pm on The CW)
In a Nutshell: A teen drama about a vampire who falls in love with a high school student.
Why I’m Mixed: A mix of Kevin Williamson's Dawson’s Creek and Scream, so why isn’t it funny?
Scene-Saver: I heart vamps, and Ian Somerhalder (Boone on Lost) is the best bad blood-sucker.


So that’s my take on Fall TV. Agree or disagree below.

And has anybody seen The Good Wife (CBS)? Or The Jay Leno Show (NBC)? Or anything new on cable that I might be missing? My DVR and I have a pact that I won’t add any more shows until next year, so I can’t watch them yet...

More Cowbell

Today I heard a new song. It was first announced by Plastic Ryan Seacrest. And it’s a duet between a Gossip Girl and Robyn Thicke (who makes me Kynda Sicke).

Not a good pedigree.

But my love of Gossip Girl has been well-documented. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and listen to Blair Waldorf’s (aka Leighton Meester’s) new pop single, “Somebody to Love.”

The verdict? It’s… bad. And not in a good way.

Not sure what was worse, the actual singing in the duet, or the battle of the vapid lyrics. HER: “It’s hard to find a man, when you’re gone before he wakes. They say it’s hard to achieve, but can’t a girl believe?” HIM: “Baby girl, there you at. Looking at me like a putty cat… Do your hair, I bought you shoes. We can hit the town like superstars do.”

Stick to your day job, B. And while I'm on the topic, here are 5 other starlets-turned-songstresses who really need to learn which side of their bread is buttered and -- for the love of all that is good and holy -- STOP SINGING.

Starlet: Heidi Montag
Claim to Fame: Married to Spencer “Flesh-Colored Beard” Pratt on the un-reality series, The Hills (full disclosure: I have a sick addiction to this show -- don't judge).
Song: “Body Language”
Deep Thoughts: “I am looking for a boss type, someone to fulfill all my needs. So, give me a piece of your guidance.”

Starlet: Paris Hilton
Claim to Fame: Famous for being famous, this overrated socialite is best known for her homemade sex tape.
Song: “Stars Are Blind”
Deep Thoughts: “Those other guys all wanna take me for a ride, but when I walk they talk of suicide. Some people never get beyond their stupid pride. But you see the real me inside.”

Starlet: Jennifer Love Hewitt
Claim to Fame: Currently, this buxom babe whispers to ghosts and inexplicably dates Jamie Kennedy.
Song: “Let’s Go Bang”
Deep Thoughts: “Before the groove hits the move you want to. And Uncle Funk wants it over tonight. Just dance along to wherever they take you tonight. You just bang it all up and out, bang it all on time.” (UM… WHAT??)

Starlet: Lindsay Lohan
Claim to Fame: Forgetting to wear underwear, crashing cars, and pretending to be a lesbian are just a few of the hobbies LiLo enjoys when not in rehab.
Song: “Rumors”
Deep Thoughts: “I can tell that you’re watching me and you’re probably gonna write what you didn’t see. Well I just need a little space to breathe. Can you please respect my privacy?”

Starlet: Kim Zolciak
Claim to Fame: One of the artificial Real Housewives of Atlanta, this cougar is on again/off again with a sugar daddy known as “Big Poppa.”
Song: “Tardy for the Party”
Deep Thoughts: “I’ll be feelin’ good by nine. After my third glass of wine. On the dance floor lookin' fine. All the boys tryin’ to get in line.”


Sooo.... any other celebrities you’d like to silence? Add them below and I’ll read them after I finish flying over Colorado in a giant Jiffy Pop weather balloon!

Apparently, Candy Isn't So Dandy

As if there wasn’t enough to worry about these days… now eating too much candy can lead to a life of crime.

I know, I can’t believe it either.

But in an October study published in the British Journal of Psychiatry (which I read religiously), they looked at kids who ate candy daily at age 10 and found that 69% of them were ARRESTED for a violent offense by age 34.

Now, if you told me the study showed that 7 of every 10 British kids who ate candy daily had horrible teeth, I’d believe you. But violent crimes? C’MON! This smells like propaganda from the International Broccoli Council to me. I guess “Just wait until your father gets home” and “Think about the starving children in Africa” are no longer persuasive enough motivation techniques.

“Eat your veggies or wind up in the Big House” carries that extra je ne sais quoi.

The study further goes on to explain that parents who regularly bribe their kids with sweets in exchange for good behavior are doing harm. Hmm. What about parents who bribe their kids with clothes and shoes and jewelry and handbags in exchange for good grades? Because that’s pretty much how I grew up, and I’ve got news for these Brits -- it worked like a charm (bracelet).

Anyway, I seriously doubt I ate candy DAILY as a kid (unless carob chips count -- my mom went through a health food phase where we had a lot of “nature’s chocolate” lying about). So, maybe I should eat candy daily at age 36 and see if it inspires a crime spree by the time I turn 60…

Here are the delicious sweets that would turn me sour (aka my 7 Candy Sins):
1) Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups
2) Whatchamacallit
3) Butterfingers
4) Twix
5) Gummy Cola Bottles
6) Skittles
7) Cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers

And here’s the horrible candy that I’d never eat, thus keeping me on the straight and narrow:
1) Wax Lips
2) Candy Buttons
3) Good & Plenty
4) Jordan Almonds
5) Mounds Bars
6) Necco Wafers
7) Red Hots

What treats would turn YOU to a life of crime? List them below! (Bonus points for calling out more horrible candy…)

One and Done

I don’t know where my head was on Friday.

It was One Hit Wonder Day! I already missed International Bacon Day (September 8th). And National Talk Like a Pirate Day (September 19th). I simply cannot overlook ANOTHER September holiday, even if I am 3 days late.

So here’s my list of one-hit faves from the past 3 decades. And these aren’t remakes (sorry The Ataris and your “The Boys of Summer”), or celebs turned musicians (that means YOU, Eddie Murphy, AND your girl who wants to “Party All the Time”). These are actual songs from artists who hit Billboard’s Top 40 once, and that was it.

One and done.

Oh, and I decided to cut the 2000’s off at 2002, figuring if they haven’t recorded a second hit in the last 7 years, they probably don’t have another one left in them…

1970: The Five Stairsteps, “O-o-h Child”
1971: Jean Knight, “Mr. Big Stuff”
1972: Looking Glass, “Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl)”
1973: King Harvest, “Dancin’ in the Moonlight”
1974: Blue Swede, “Hooked on a Feeling”
1975: Morris Albert, “Feelings” (totally kidding, 1975, it seems was TOTAL crap for OHWs)
1976: Vicki Sue Robinson, “Turn the Beat Around”
1977: Thelma Houston, “Don’t Leave Me this Way”
1978: Alicia Bridges, “I Love the Nightlife (Disco ‘Round)"
1979: TIE -- The Knack, “My Sharona” and Kermit the Frog, “Rainbow Connection”

1980: The Sugarhill Gang, “Rapper’s Delight”
1981: Tommy Tutone, “867-5309/Jenny” (for obvious reasons)
1982: Soft Cell, “Tainted Love”
1983: TIE -- Dexy’s Midnight Runners, “Come on Eileen” and Taco, “Puttin’ on the Ritz”
1984: TIE -- Nena, “99 Luftballons” and Shannon, “Let the Music Play”
1985: TIE -- Falco, “Rock Me Amadeus” and Murray Head, “One Night in Bangkok”
1986: Timbuk 3, “The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades”
1987: TIE -- Breakfast Club, “Right on Track” and Bill Medley, “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life”
1988: TIE -- The Church, “Under the Milky Way” and Midnight Oil, “Beds Are Burning”
1989: Jeff Healey Band, “Angel Eyes”

1990: Michael Penn, “No Myth”
1991: Divinyls, “I Touch Myself”
1992: Sir Mix-a-Lot, “Baby Got Back”
1993: 4 Non Blondes, “What’s Up?”
1994: Nothing good happened in '94, unless you count the Crash Test Dummies (which I do not)
1995: Edwin Collins, “A Girl Like You”
1996: Seven Mary Three, “Cumbersome”
1997: Chumbawamba, “Tubthumping”
1998: TIE -- The Verve, “Bittersweet Symphony” and Semisonic, “Closing Time”
1999: TIE -- Eagle Eye Cherry, “Save Tonight” and Shawn Mullins, “Lullaby”

2000: Nine Days, “Absolutely (Story of a Girl)”
2001: TIE – Fuel, “Hemorrhage (In My Hands)” and Willa Ford, “I Wanna Be Bad”
2002: Jimmy Eat World, "The Middle"


So that's my list, for better or worse. Am I missing YOUR favorite ditty? Too bad.

Jokes, jokes... add them below.

Note to Celebrities: Please Stop Dying

***Thanks go out to the overwhelming majority of 6 who answered my poll! I will keep blogging for YOU (and also for the 16 other people who read that post but didn’t feel the need to vote -- I take your silence as consent!). And now… let's begin We’re Not In Pine Brook Anymore, Part Deux.***

Summer is officially over. Boo.

The Times recently uncovered a frightening seasonal phenomenon. And no, it’s not about the rain. It’s about celebrities.

They kinda keep dying. Making this… (cue spooky music) The Summer of Death.

Morbid? Yes. But also true! The AP is in a bunch over the number of celebs who kicked it in the Summer of 2009 too. And New York Magazine, puts the number at 29 which nearly doubles their 1993 record of 15.

Numbers aside, the wattage of these stars are above average. Here’s the 11 I’ll miss most:

Walter Cronkite: What's the coolest thing you can say about the Most Trusted Man in America? He was made into a Muppet -- a grouchy journalist called Walter Cranky!
Best Quote: “Objective journalism and opinion column are about as similar as the Bible and Playboy magazine.”

Dominick Dunne: He was driven by the murder of his own daughter (and the slap on the wrist her boyfriend received for killing her), so I loved his coverage of high-profile criminal trials. It’s rumored that he got his big break in the literary world by being seated next to Vanity Fair editor, Tina Brown, at a dinner party. I really need to start eating out more.
Best Quote: “I’m sick of being asked to weep for killers. We’ve lost our sense of outrage.”

Farrah Fawcett: I saw the world's most popular pinup in Newark Airport years ago, coming off the red-eye from California. She really did have great hair.
Best Quote: “The reason that the all-American boy prefers beauty to brains is that he can see better than he can think.”

John Hughes: Man, I still can’t get over this one! This guy made me want to spend my teenage years in the suburbs of Chicago -- riding a parade float while singing Twist & Shout, blowing out the candles on my 16th birthday cake, and sitting in detention with a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. He WAS the 80's.
Best Quote: “I don’t think of kids as a lower form of the human species.”

Michael Jackson: I’ve already told you how I feel about this one. But to me, June 25th was more than just the day the music died. It's also the day my boyfriend and I went on our 2nd date. We visited 5 Napkin Burger, where he ordered a delicious bacon burger and I ordered... a burger salad. Lame choice. Surprised he didn't tell me to beat it.
Best Quote: “Through it, my music, I know I will live forever.”

Billy Mays: What can I say about this densely-bearded fellow that I haven’t already said? His sales pitches were irresistable! I now have a Big City Slider Station in his honor, which I keep at my parents house in Florida because my apartment is too small.
Best Quote: “I don’t take on a product unless I believe in it. I use everything that I sell.”

Frank McCourt: I had the pleasure of meeting this kind man after the success of his memoir, Angela's Ashes, when I worked in book publishing. He truly was as charming, humble, and utterly delightful as you'd imagine.
Best Quote: "I wasn't prepared for America, where everybody is glowing with good teeth and good clothes and food."

Ed McMahon: It’s true, his face got a little freaky looking towards the end, but how can you not want to hug this affable late-night sidekick? He was like a human laugh track. I even enjoyed his Cash for Gold commercials with MC Hammer!
Best Quote: “Johnny once described our relationship by saying we were as close as two people could be without being married.”

Les Paul: You've got to admire a guy who never learned how to read sheet music, yet he invented the sound of rock and roll. His Gibson electric guitars sell for thousands. And bonus points because he lived in Mahwah, NJ for many years… bada bing!
Best Quote: "My first guitar came from Sears & Roebuck and I believe it was $3.95."

Patrick Swayze: Loved him in Dirty Dancing, Youngblood, Road House, The Outsiders and Point Break (Ghost? Not so much). But you know my favorite PSwayz role? Orry Main in the TV miniseries, North & South. His views were questionable, but he really rocked that mullet.
Best Quote: “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.” (c’mon, did you REALLY think I’d choose anything less?)

The Taco Bell Dog: Little Gidget (who assumed the role from a Chihuahua named Dinky) was a sombrero-wearing face of controversy in the Hispanic community for reinforcing bad stereotypes. But the next time I chow down on a MexiMelt, I’ll think of you…
Best Quote: “Drop the chalupa!”

Honorable mention also goes to Dom DeLuise (loved his cookbook Eat This -- never trust a skinny cook!) and Bea Arthur (snarky Dorothy Zbornak was my fave Golden Girl). They technically passed on before the summer began, but were still pretty cool peeps.


So, Celebrities, do yourselves a favor and stay home this fall. Get a nice Netflix subscription, a Snuggie, and a soothing chai latte.

The world will thank you.

Did I miss any of YOUR favorites? Add them below!

Happy Blog-iversary

Well, I’ve been at it for exactly a year.

Blogging, that is.

It all started on a bizarre night at The Box, when I was hit with the distinct, swirly feeling that I wasn’t in Kansas, err... Pine Brook... anymore. And a blog was born.

As you know, this was my easy-breezy way to get back into writing, so I could eventually turn my attention back to my scary manuscript. But the reality is, I’ve had a ton of fun just blogging for blogging’s sake (although I don’t do it as often as I should -- bad Jenny!).

Even better, a couple of people out there actually read this thing! Probably even YOU. So hopefully, you’ve had some fun along the way too. (I especially love it when you leave me comments... hint, HINT.)

The one-year mark seems about the right time to peek under the hood and kick the tires. So, here’s a look at the blog's numbers, according to my good friend, The Google:

Total Posts I've Written (including this one):

78

Average Number of Posts I Write Per Month:

6.3 (Highest: December, Lowest: July)

Average Number of Unique Visitors Per Month:

35 (Highest: August, Lowest: February)

Average Pageviews Per Month:

273 (Highest: November, Lowest: February)

Average Time Spent Per Visit:

3 minutes 23 seconds

Most Read Blog Post (3-way tie):

Old Wooden Teeth

Seven Strikes

5 Reasons to Tune in to Top Chef

Post Nobody Gave a Crap About (5-way tie):

Bachelor Boo-Hoo

Ooh That Smell

No Scents

Thanksgiving in a Box

I Had a Crush on the Free Credit Report Guy

Most Comments:

Finger Lickin’ Good

Most Frequently-Used Tag For the Posts I Write:

Pop Culture

Most Popular Search by Visitors:

Dating

Not too shabby for a silly little hobby. But now, I sit at a crossroads. Do I freeze this blog as a snapshot in time, and end it now? Or do I push past my first year and ramble on?

The fate of this blog rests in your hands!

Vote below (and yes, that means EVEN you anonymous readers… I KNOW you’re out there):

poll by twiigs.com

The World Is Lousy with Jennifers

Don’t believe me?

Guaranteed you have a good friend, or a buddy at work, or a neighbor, or an ex-girlfriend, or a dogwalker named Jennifer (or Jenny or Jen, but NEVER Jenn or Jenifer or Genifer).

And probably not just one either -- more like five!

Take me, for example. When I was in college, my roommate for all four years was also named Jen. And by the time we were seniors, FOUR out of the EIGHT girls living in our house were named Jen (that’s 50% Jen!).

I’m totally convinced that one day, in the not so distant future, Jennifer will be a Scary Old Lady Name (much like Mildred, or Agnes) and retirement communities across the country will be overrun with them.

I can just imagine all the wrinkly old biddies that will pick up their confused little heads every time someone calls out that name. They’ll have to get nicknames to help differentiate, like Recently Had Hip Replacement Surgery Jen, and Always Forgets Her Glasses Jen, and Stinks Kinda Like Ben-Gay Jen.

It will be chaos.

Anyway, the pervasiveness of my name within my age group isn’t just a gut feeling. It’s a fact. According to the rankings issued by the Social Security Administration last week (and they ought to know!), Jennifer is now the 84th most popular girl’s name. Okay. But that’s in a world filled with Nevaehs (#34), Makaylas (#37), and Destinys (#48)…

Back in boring times, Jennifer first broke the top 20 most popular baby names in 1965. In its Glory Days, it ranked as the #1 girl’s name for FIFTEEN STRAIGHT YEARS -- from 1970 - 1984. In 1985, it slipped to #3 -- which was the beginning of its merciful descent.

The Reign of Jennifer makes it the 2nd most popular girl’s name in the last 100 YEARS. (In case you are curious, Mary takes the crown as the 1st most popular from 1909 – 1946 and again from 1953 – 1961.)

So… who cares (other than the obvious 8 gazillion Jennifers out there)?

Well, I think my peers who are now parents have also taken note of the “dime a dozen” quality of many of our first names and are coming up with better alternatives for their own kids. Back in February, I told you about 10 babies being born to my own family and friends, and now, they’ve all arrived – happy, healthy, and cute as buttons!

What’s better? They ALL have unique names! (Though it does NOT escape my attention that two of the moms listed below are also named Jennifer…)

Welcome to the World:

Lindsay (#380) JoyBorn in March to Cara & Mike (and big sisters Jillian & Alyssa)

Grace (#21) ElizabethBorn on May 6th to Liz & Steve

Rebecca (#119) Belle
Born on May 14th to Anne & Dave

William (#8) Charles
Born on May 22nd to Jen & Adam (and big sister Cielle and big brother Ryan)

Roya (*) LilyBorn on June 6th to Minoo & Rob
(*Roya is totally original and way too cool for a ranking!)

Lydia (#120) Rose
Born on June 10th to Jen & Nate

Peyton (#60) VictoriaBorn in July to Stacey & Lou (and big brother, little Lou)

Evan (#38) CarterBorn on July 30th to Joanna & Robert

Bryce (#116) ThomasBorn on August 7th to Sheila & Kyle (and big sister Lilly)

Matthew (#10) FinbarBorn on August 8th to Pam & Gerry (and big sister Elena)


Congrats to all the new moms and dads! Much love to all of you.

Now don’t let me be Little Miss Vain all by myself -- check how popular YOUR name is and add it to the comments below! And sorry, but “Anonymous” won’t appear on the list...

Sad Men

I was SOOO excited for Sunday’s Season 3 premiere of Mad Men (if you don’t watch it, please crawl out from under your pop-culture rock and read this recap immediately).

Being the MM veteran that I am, I Mad Men’ed Myself right into the offices of Sterling Cooper -- and yes, I stand by my decision to wear a pink polkadot party dress. I quizzed myself to find out Which Mad Man Am I? Turns out, I’m Betty “How’s Therapy Going?” Draper -- which says nothing good about me AT ALL, but whatevs. And I made a phone date with my mom to watch the show together, like we always do.

Except, I didn’t love it.

In fact, I didn’t even like it!

And it’s NOT because the subtle nuance is lost on my thick skull (yes, yes, I GET IT, the London Fog client is a metaphor for the smoke and mirrors in Don’s personal life, or the ad biz in general). And it’s NOT because the overt messages try too hard (pitting Pete and Ken as the dueling head of accounts was just plain silly, even though that actually happened to me once in real life -- and PS: I won). And it’s NOT because of the politically incorrect way they depict life in the 1960’s (that ballpoint pen in Sal’s shirt pocket sure was happy to see the bellboy, huh?).

It’s because it wasn’t entertaining. And that makes me sad.

Last year, I gave you 5 reasons I would miss Mad Men. Now, here are 5 reasons I'd like to forget Sunday’s episode entirely:

1. Warm Milk and Gross Feet
Warm milk is just disgusting, and I could REALLY do without that shot of the gloopy skin that forms on top. But more disturbing was the sight of Don Draper’s feet. If those Flintstone hammertoes were his, please require him to wear two pairs of socks. Simultaneously. At all times. I’m sure they revealed a lot of important backstory in that scene, but all I could think was… eeeeew!

2. Enough with the Screwing Around
Won’t Don EVER learn? I’m starting not to like him. At all.  As if banging a random stewardess that looks an awful lot like his pregnant wife, Betty, wasn’t enough, giving said stewardess’s silver airplane wings to his daughter, Sally, as a souvenir from the road was just too much. Stop being slimy.

3. Not Enough Roger Sterling
Now THIS womanizer with a bum ticker needs to be in every scene. Having the Silver Fox breeze thru for like 30 seconds was cruel and unusual.

4. Peggy Olson Needs to Chillax
I understand that she’s a woman in a man’s world and if she could turn her boobs into balls she would. But why is she so freaking uptight?

5. Pull Up Your Diapers, Whiny Pete
You can just picture Pete Campbell whining, “But Daddy, I want an Oompa Loompa nooooow!” Can we PLEASE see how he dealt with the news that he knocked Peggy up and she gave their kid away?! Nobody cares about his new desk accessory that boldly declares, “The Buck Stops Here.”


Oh! And in the “You Can’t Be Serious” department, um… lemme get this straight: Did Dick Whitman’s mother really name him after a…? Geez. No wonder he switched his name to Don.

Anyway, I kept watching. And kept waiting for it to get better. 52 minutes later, and no dice. But I did enjoy the BMW commercials!

So, did YOU watch? Did you like? And, seriously… can anyone tell me what the hell was UP with dreamy Don Draper’s feet??

18 (x2)

Happy (belated) birthday to me!

On August 3rd, I officially turned 18 (x2). I say it this way because I can no longer say my actual age. I know, it’s silly. I mean, how hard can it possibly be?

Thiiiirrrrtttyyy ssss… nope. Can’t do it.

Anyway, aside from thinking I’m a total freak, you’re probably asking yourself why I waited until now to blog about it (or perhaps you’re just waiting with bated breath for my musings on bellybutton lint).

Am I just lazy? Well, sort of, yes.

But really, I waited to write this post until I finished celebrating! I mean, I don’t just celebrate my birthDAY -- I celebrate my birthWEEK (sometimes TWO if I’m feeling frisky!). Which, is interesting because I while I hate the idea of aging, I really do heart my birthday.

Now, I won’t bore you with 36 things you should know about my birthday (although it IS tempting). Instead, I will submit 3 critical birthday facts for your review:

1) I never work on my birthday.
Being a summer baby, I never had to go to school on my birthday. In fact, I never had to do much of ANYTHING except open presents and eat cake. So, imagine my dismay upon graduation to The Real World. I began my very first job in Parsippany, NJ, a week before my 22nd birthday -- and I had to WORK on the Big Day! Nobody even knew my name, much less that it was my birthday. I was stuck in the photocopy room all day and can still vividly recall jabbing the collate button with my index finger, while grumbling, “This totally sucks!” So, on August 3, 1995, feeling lightheaded from the overwhelming scent of toner, I vowed never again to work on my birthday. And I never have.

2) I always have a cheesecake birthday cake.
Some people like cupcakes. Some people like ice cream cake. Some people are birthday Grinches and eat broccoli instead. Me? I like cheesecake. But ONLY creamy New York-style. Not that crappy, lumpy, gross-tasting Italian kind (as much as I love the Itals, ricotta does not a cheesecake make). And I am a purist -- just plain cheesecake, maybe with strawberries on the side, please. This is the best cake to make a proper wish upon, in my opinion.

3) I always buy myself a gift.
I love buying gifts for people! So it stands to reason that in the days and weeks around my birthday, I find just about every excuse possible to treat myself. Usually it’s small things, and one big splurge. This year, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really gotten myself anything yet, which I happened to mention to my mom. She replied, “You already got a gift. From a BOY. Who you are not related to. Quit while you’re ahead.” Actually, she may be right about that one…

So, do YOU have any favorite memories about MY birthday??

Kidding, kidding. I’ll also take your favorite kinds of birthday cake…

All Points West

This past Saturday, my brother and I trekked back to the Mother Land. Yes, we went home to the Jerz.

You gotta get back to your roots every now and again.

We originally had tickets last summer to the first All Points West music & arts festival at Liberty State Park. We were hoping to see Radiohead. But as luck would have it, our tix were for the same weekend that we wound up helping our parents move down to Florida. I think we were somewhere in Georgia by the time Radiohead took the stage in Jersey City.

So we couldn’t hear them very well.

This year, I promised my brother we’d get to the festival for reals. And get there we did! Here are the highlights…

BEST BAND: Gogol Bordello
While we came to see Tool, (and the Arctic Monkeys were pretty great too), this crazy little band stands out to me above all the rest. They had an amazing energy, you could not stand still when they were playing, and they used a trippy smorgasbord of instruments (banjo, accordion, electric guitar, violin, PLUS a bongo-playing man in a wrestling mask and two tambourine-playing dancing nymphs -- oh my!). It sounded unexpectedly awesome. I didn’t even realize until the end that the songs weren’t all in English. Whatever. I’m a fan.
Download this: Tribal Connection and Mala Vida

WORST BAND: My Bloody Valentine
This band should be called My Bloody Ears. The guitars were so loud and distorted, it was just screechy noise. A sonic assault. Apparently their POINT is to be loud and all the Kool Kidz totally get it, but never have I seen so many people standing totally still during a concert. Everyone was just dumbfounded, I guess. Or deaf. And while I swore I saw the band’s lips moving, there was not one discernable lyric in their entire set until they said, “Goodnight.” I say, “Good riddance.”
Download this: Don’t Bother (no, seriously, don’t bother)


BEST FOOD I ATE: Funnel Cake
I love funnel cake. It’s really just as simple as that.

WORST FOOD I ATE: Tiny Meatballs
Tiny meatballs freak me out. Actually, don’t love the big ones either. Especially when they have giant chunks of bread in them, or weird ingredients like nuts and raisins. Blech. But, I do like meatballs on my pizza… go figure. I am a riddle wrapped in an enigma.


BEST FOOD I DIDN’T EAT: PB&J
I sprung for VIP tix because that’s how I roll. Ok, that’s how I LIKE to roll. Ok, ok… it was a treat for my brother. But regardless, the first thing I saw when we entered the tres chic VIP tent was a make your own PB&J sandwich station. I kinda loved that.

WORST FOOD I DIDN’T EAT: Burritos
From the APW message board: “By any chance did you have the burritos?? My friends ate burritos. I didn't luckily, and my stomach is acting kind of weird but not as bad as my friends who both have explosive diarrhea. Maybe some parasite from the feces we were all submerged in might have contaminated the burrito stand, and maybe the fact that we were submerged in it for three days may be why we are all sick. I hope its not some bird parasite.” I think that speaks for itself.


BEST DECISION: Taking the Ferry
This was a great way to get to the festival -- out on the open sea. I felt like Melanie Griffith in Working Girl, minus the shoulder pads. Just ignore the ridiculous price ($25?!), and the fact that the walk to the dock was a good mile away from the main stage, AND the fact that the ferry tix weren’t transferrable from one day to the next (an expensive lesson I accidentally learned when a robust woman named Chantal informed me that I’d purchased tix for the wrong day). But… it sure was pretty!

WORST DECISION: Wearing Flip Flops
Rain + Grassy Knoll = Mud. Sure, Saturday was gorgeous, but the damage had already been done. Not sure what I was thinking when I decided to don a cute pair of flippers. The stench coming off the wet mulch was also something special. I can only hope it was poo. Incidentally, I did hear that APW was letting Friday's soggy ticket holders into the Saturday and Sunday shows for free, so that’s a pretty cool gesture (as long as you push aside the greedy motive of just hoping to sell even more $7 beers and $5 slices). If only they were offering a foot decontamination service. Then they’d truly be golden.


BEST ATTRACTION: Twix Misting Tent
While it wasn’t super hot out, the mist was cool and refreshing, and they served free Twix. I kept waiting for something awkward to happen so I could chew it over with Twix.

WORST ATTRACTION: Beer Gardens
Forget the 7 beer limit for the whole entire day -- you could only consume them in designated drinking zones (and yes, I GET it, we were in a state park). So I felt like we had to pound every beer in order to get back to the show. Hmmm. Maybe that was the point? Or maybe I’m just too old for that. Not sure. But I wound up being so full on yummy festival snacks (see above), that I only drank 4 of my 7 beer rations. Yes, it’s official, I am getting old.


BEST CELEB SIGHTING: Adrian Grenier
In the beer garden.

WORST CELEB SIGHTING: Courtney Love
At the falafel stand.


All in all, it was a blast. And a mess. It was a messy blast. Can’t WAIT to go again next year! (Seriously… wanna come??)

Off the Market

I really never thought I’d be writing a post like this.

I try to be as honest as I can be in this blog. It’s not like my manuscript -- which is actually fiction, despite the fact that it resembles my life and the people in it.

This blog isn’t loosely based on my life over the last year -- it kinda IS my life. Here, I try to push aside feeling stupid, or random, or neurotic, or whatever, and just tell a story that I’d be amused to read. (YOU can be the judge of how successful I’ve been in that endeavor!)

So if I’m being honest, I should tell you that I feel like I’ve spent my entire adult life celebrating other people’s milestones. And I’ve been happy to do it! I just couldn’t ever help feeling a little left behind, as my +1 was generally a giant handbag instead of a boy -- over, and over, and OVER again.

When I was able to focus on me -- to whip up one or two milestones of my own -- I shared my indecision about jumping into the scary online dating pool. I took you with me as I waded through thousands of freaky FREAKY profiles. And I recounted the ridiculous dates that followed (FLOSSING… um… seriously?!? I still can’t get over that one). There were actually more where those came from, but they were SO boring, even I couldn’t find the funny.

As you know, throughout this whole online dating process, I have been… selective. I didn’t dismiss 4 out of every 5 guys who contacted me. Or even 9 out of every 10. Oh no. It was actually closer to 99 out of every 100. (I know!!) But with each guy I actually did respond to, it became abundantly clear why THEY were still single (nevermind me… I’m perfect). Inevitably, within the first week or so of emailing, I saw SO many red flags I swore I was running in Pamplona with the bulls.

Which made my decision NOT to meet most of these guys very, very easy.

For the handful that I did meet, it was always One & Done. I didn’t particularly want to see them again, or they didn’t want to see me, or it was mercifully mutual. And it’s not like I was out looking for a husband -- I wasn’t delusional enough to set the bar THAT high! I was just looking for a guy I’d want to spend more than an hour with, without fantasizing about gnawing my own arm off to get away.

I mean, let’s face it, ANYONE can get a date, or even a boyfriend for that matter. But I didn’t want just ANY guy -- that’s not my style. I wanted to meet the right one for me. My match. Besides, I didn’t make it ALL the way to 35 only to settle for some schmuck (which is exactly what I would have been doing with any of the clowns that crossed my path). The pickins were SO slim, I very nearly pulled the plug on all of it back in April.

This just isn’t for me, I thought.

In total, over a 6+ month span, I was matched with a staggering 6,000+ guys, and of that, 700+ contacted me in one form or another. (I know, I can’t even believe it.) And I KNOW what you’re thinking -- who DO I think I AM? Should I be that picky at my incredibly advanced age? Especially when faced with a near-certain future of becoming a tragic spinster with 14 cats??

The answer is yes. I should have been that picky.

Because amidst the freaks and losers, I truly found a gem. A one in a million kind of guy. The needle in the proverbial haystack. I know I told you I didn’t believe in The One. And maybe I still don’t. But I did meet my match, perfect for me in every way. Which makes me a very lucky girl, and makes the final chapter in my online dating saga a very happy one, as I officially -- and quite publicly -- take myself off the market.

I should probably send Match a muffin basket to say thanks, wouldn’t you agree?

(PS: He is the only other person on the planet that doesn’t eat eggs either -- now if THAT’S not a match, I don’t know what is)

Et Tu, Jersey?

Ok. Let me start by saying, you know I love New Jersey.

I repeat: I LOVE NEW JERSEY.

Of course, this sentiment is not universally shared. My home state has a (largely undeserved) negative reputation across our nation, generally surrounding the notion of being smelly.

Fine. Funny, even.

Each day when I wake up, before my sock-covered feet even hit the floor, I check my work email. Sure, I also check it before I go to bed, but you just never know what happens overnight! And I hate to come into the office and be hit with any surprises. Today when I awoke, a breaking news bulletin from WNBC made it crystal clear that The Jerz would take one on the chin...

The email was entitled, “Dirty Jersey.” Hmmm, I thought. That can’t be good.

Actually, it was quite bad. Did we REALLY need to architect a government-sanctioned scheme that involved -- among other gems -- laundering money from the sale of black market KIDNEYS through a charity run by rabbis? (Incidentally, if you were in the market for this organ, a cool $160,000 was the asking price.)

I mean, come ON!

Hoboken Mayor? Arrested! Secaucus Mayor? You too! Jersey City Deputy Mayor? Cuffed and stuffed!

Unreal. Sure, there were also some arrests in Brooklyn as part of this undercover sting operation, which involved over 300 federal agents. But it’s a small detail lost in the almost giddy news coverage.

The NY Daily News sums it up, delivering the boom, boom, pow. First, they quoted an FBI official, "New Jersey's corruption problem is one of the worst, if not the worst, in the nation." Then, just incase you missed the point, the US Attorney's office chimed in, "The arrests underscore 'more than ever the pervasive nature of public corruption in this state.'" Finally, they rubbed editorial salt in the wound for good measure, “The takedown is stunning in its breadth, even by New Jersey standards.”

EVEN by New Jersey standards. Awesome.

A Tan with a Plan

Did you miss me? I missed you!

SO sorry I’ve been MIA -- it’s been a blur of a month.

A good chunk of July was spent visiting my parents in Del Boca Vista, FL -- aka The Villages -- home to 30,000 crazy retirees off-season, and 70,000(!?!?) in-season. It’s sorta like if Disneyland and Cocoon had a baby. Luckily during this visit I did not receive any unsolicited advice on my love life from well-intentioned, but very VERY wrinkly, strangers.

It was pure relaxation.

Anyway, the #1 mission during my week-long stint as a retiree was to get a tan. And tan I did! Even my feet are tan, which is nice because tan feet are infinitely better than pale feet (also, tan fat is better than pale fat, but I digress).

Now, of course, the challenge is to keep it going without looking like an Oompa Loompa (doopedy doo!).

I know what you’re thinking. Why don’t you just GO OUTSIDE? The answer is… I don’t know.

So, I thought about hitting up a fancy department store for some kind of expensive tanner (I hear Clarins Self Tanning Instant Gel is great). But I don’t actually want to be that much darker -- I just don’t want to get that much lighter. So I decided to give my wallet a break in these troubled economic times and hit up CVS instead. How prudent.

After much deliberation under fluorescent lights that made my new tan look slightly green, I decided to go with Jergens Natural Glow Daily Moisturizer. My thinking was it would serve a dual purpose -- 1) it offered a gradual tan, which should kick in just as my real one was starting to fade, and 2) it would provide a merciful end to the peeling/flaking/leprosy that is now happening all over my body as a direct result of said “real tan.”

As an unexpected bonus, it also claimed to be firming -- and frankly, who among us couldn’t use a little of that?

Of course, my decision was further complicated by the product being offered in a variety of shades. I was unclear which shade to choose (Do I go with my normal skin? Or my tan skin? And why don’t any of them actually LOOK like skin?). So, I wound up buying two -- Medium and Medium Tan -- to be on the safe side. Sneaky sneaky.

The verdict? PU!!

This moisturizer stinks like a sunless tanner. You know that musky rotten molasses smell that’s a dead giveaway? Yeah. So now I stink like fake tan, which isn’t even showing yet, when I actually have a REAL tan.

Awesome.

Has anyone EVER found a self tanner that didn’t stink? And, while we’re on the topic... did anyone catch the news about an Oompa Loompa getting arrested in a shopping mall in FL?

King of Pop

Right now, as I type this, I am sucked into a marathon Michael Jackson music video retrospective on VH-1.

I am on hour #4. I am officially middle aged. And I am helpless to resist the lure of Billie Jean.

Honestly, I didn’t think that much about his passing on Thursday. On the one hand I was totally shocked to get the series of breaking news alerts in quick succession -- first cardiac arrest, then coma, then dead -- and on the other hand, I wasn’t surprised at all.

Over the years, he certainly taught us to expect the unexpected.

His life had been… questionable. Actually, that’s an understatement. He passed quirky and eccentric miles ago. Jacko was bat-shit crazy. But his musical talent is undeniable. Does that excuse his behavior, alleged or observed? I don’t think so. But hopefully his songs will be his legacy.

Here are my 10 faves:
1979 - Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough
1979 - Rock With You
1983 - Beat It (also love Fall Out Boy’s version featuring John Mayer)
1983 - Billie Jean
1983 - Human Nature
1983 - PYT (Pretty Young Thing)
1983 - Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’
1984 - Thriller
1988 - Man in the Mirror
1988 - Smooth Criminal (also love Alien Ant Farm’s version)

Each one of these songs has some great memory tied to it, and instantly takes me back to growing up in NJ. It was the ‘80s, I had (really) big hair, my beloved Ronnie was in office, and all was good in my world.

Watching these videos that span a 40-year career, particularly The Jackson Five with 10-year-old Michael performing “I Want You Back” and “ABC” on American Bandstand, makes me so sad. It’s probably how my parents felt when they heard about Elvis. One of my college roommates used to call MJ “magic.” And I guess he was. While he WAS the King of Pop, he was very clearly also the King of Pain.

I hope he rests in peace.