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Showing posts with label polls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label polls. Show all posts

1/31/2016

Grease Is the Word

I know I'm superlate with my first post of 2016.

A bunch of stuff happened since my last one --  I stuck my toes in the sand at Clearwater Beach, I binged on Making a Murderer like the rest of America, I went to Google's offices, and I got stuck in LA thanks to snowstorm Jonas. But tonight, I'm finally feeling inspired by the most amazing thing to happen all year.

I'm speaking, of course, of Grease Live.

Is there anything better on the planet than Grease?  If there is, I don't know it.  My love affair with the gang from Rydell High started at the ripe age of 5.  I had a red record player and Grease (double album set) was on repeat.

Sure, I didn't understand most of it.  When Kenickie talked about his 25 cent insurance policy, I fully thought he was talking about his car.  And the hickie he gave Rizzo, I heard it as "pinkie" -- as in pinkie swear.  I also thought Danny Zuko had "shoes" that were multiplying.

It wasn't until I was in college that I understood how suggestive the lyrics actually are.

And now the kids will be all confused again because they scrubbed Greased Lightnin' up for TV so the chicks will "scream." And they're building a "dream" wagon.

Yeah, that's it.

Oddly, they left, "Did she put up a fight?" in Summer Nights. Eh, whatevs, I always thought it was, "Did she tell me I'm right?" anyway.

Fitting...

So, I've seen this movie at least 100 times. Every time it's on, I get sucked in. Every. Single. Time. I even own Grease 2 without a trace of irony.  Cool Rider is the shit.

(FOX, you listening?  You're waaaay better at these live musicals than NBC. G2 next, mkay?)

As I type this, my mom and I are watching this extravaganza together on the phone -- she's in FL and I'm in NJ.  I've been waiting for MONTHS to see this -- I even Greased Myself.  I might be the most annoying person in the world to watch Grease with because I play along with every line, song, and move.

I was born to hand jive.

Incidentally, I may never recover that the sound went out while Joe Jonas was doing his best Sha-Na-Na doing their best Johnny Casino & the Gamblers.  But Jan Brady in here as Mrs. Murdock makes it all better.

And here's a tasty bit of trivia: You know that Danny Meyer burger chain we all go crazy for?  Shake Shack?  Named after the ride in Grease.

True story.

So, Beauty School Dropouts, I can't be the only superfan. Channel your inner Pink Lady or T-Bird below!



tags: entertainment, pop culture, polls

8/03/2015

You Say It's Your Birthday

It's my birthday too.  I'm 42 today, to be exact.

Blech. Oy. Barf.

Now, if we are to believe The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the answer to the question of life, the universe, and everything.

Hope that's true.  But I read that book in the 7th grade in Miss Tamson's English class.  I didn't get it then, and I don't get it now.

I'm not one for sci-fi.  John Hughes is much more my speed.  So as my birthday gift to me, I will make time every week in the month of August to indulge in two things I love: Blogging and his 80's movies.

Seriously, I can't think of anything better.  Alriiight, one or two things MIGHT be better.

Like a jar of Nutella.

So, I'll grab a spoon while you tell me your fave Brat Pack classic.  Then, I'll watch your top picks all month.

Ready?  Go:






3/04/2015

Up in the Air

I spent a good chunk of February flying the friendly skies.

I went to Phoenix, Orlando, Chicago, and San Francisco, on US Airways, United, JetBlue, American (first class -- woo hoo), Delta, and just today on Virgin America. I'm pretty sure 6 airlines on 4 trips is the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do to rack up miles.

Anyway, it was my first time on Virgin, so I was curious to see how it matched up to my first love, JetBlue.

I can say with confidence that Virgin wins on: cool boarding passes, mood lighting, and the most epic video in the history of safety (see it below -- srsly).

The airlines tie on: newness of planes, niceness of crew, good in-flight entertainment, and paid snacks.

JetBlue wins on: price, seat comfyness, stretchy legroom (by a kneecap), and yummy, unlimited free snacks.

So, JB is still my fave.  But VA was still pretty cool.  Know what wasn't cool?  The jerkoff who sat next to me.

Actually, let me be clear: Nobody was *technically* next to me. I was in my beloved window seat and HE was in the aisle seat.  But he sure made himself at home.

Sack full of his food on the empty seat?  Check.  His big fat carry-on bag on the empty floor?  Yup.  His drinks strewn about the empty tray table?  You bet.  Mind you, this is in addition to is OWN actual seat/floor/table.  He spread his shit out like he was the Oscar Madison of the skies.

An empty middle seat is a gift!  It is not to be taken lightly!  I don't understand how someone could be so arrogant and presumptuous to take up all that neutral shared space. I wanted to say something but I thought, I'm stuck with this fool for 5 hrs, let's not make it miserable.  But my blood boiled with each item that inched my way.

About 3 hours in, gum wrappers were my final straw. I leaned over Garbage Mountain and asked...

"Did you purchase this seat?"
"No," he sneered.
"You're ALL OVER the place!" I said, while waving my hands around. "I'm just in this tiny little spot!"
"Well..." he stammered, "you can use it too."
"WHERE?!?"

Message delivered. He began packing up the junk.  The food bag went inside the carry-on bag, he folded up the spare tray, and miracle of miracles, he found room for his drinks on his table. But the war wasn't over.

This grown man fought back with an "assive" aggressive gas attack that stunk like death and toenails.

Vile human.

We didn't speak again until it was time to de-plane.  We were in row 17, and he sat until the bitter end, blocking me in even though I was actively getting scoliosis because I'm too tall to stand under an overhead bin.

At that time, he turned to me and shouted, "YOU'RE VERY RUDE!!"

My head almost popped off.

Then, he scurried away in a fart cloud.

So, did I overreact?  (maybe.)  Did he deserve it?  (yes.)  Do two rudes make a right?  (I dunno.)

Vote in the poll:


Ok, okaaaay, maybe I need to cool my jets. Or start calling myself Maverick.  I blame the 'roids.

Let's end on a high note with that safety video.  It's worth a watch.  I dare you not to smile and sing along:



tags: polls, travel

2/09/2014

My 5 Favorite Beatles Songs

I just got back from a whirlwind tour for the last 3 weeks.

I hit Del Boca Vista, then Scottsdale, then back to Del Boca.  As I was walking through JFK yesterday on my way home, I saw a news bulletin about a few famous fellows who arrived at JFK exactly 50 years earlier.

The Beatles!

There was similar fanfare when I arrived. 

Beatlemania was before my time (I'm old but I'm not THAT old). From what I gather, they were bigger than Jesus.

Paul has always been my fave of the Fab Four. Ringo was too goofy, George was too serious, and John was too trippy for me. Paul seemed like a sensible choice.

What do you know? Most of the Beatles songs I like best were sung (sang? singed?) by Sir Paul. Here's my top 5:

Eleanor Rigby from Revolver (1966)
Why I like it: In 8th grade music class we learned to play this tragic song on a guitar.  Beatles, both alive and dead, rolled over in their graves that day but I bet Eleanor liked it.
Lead vocals: Paul McCartney
Fun fact: She was originally called Miss Daisy Hawkins.

All You Need Is Love from Magical Mystery Tour (1967)
Why I like it: It's used in one of the best scenes of one of my favorite movies of all time, Love Actually. Plus it came out on my mom's bday.
Lead vocals: John Lennon
Fun fact: The song starts with the French national anthem, La Marseillaise.

Yesterday from Help! (1965)
Why I like it: If this song doesn't choke you up, just a little bit, you are dead inside.
Lead vocals: Paul McCartney
Fun fact: McCartney composed the whole melody in a dream at his girlfriend's house, and it was called Scrambled Eggs before it had a title.

Helter Skelter from The White Album (1968)
Why I like it: This one makes the list because of U2's cover on Rattle & Hum -- they're MY fab 4.
Lead vocals: Paul McCartney
Fun fact: The Who was the inspiration for Paul writing this rowdy song, it was later adopted as an anthem by Charles Manson

Get Back from Let it Be (1970)
Why I like it: When I was a kid I thought Jojo was a man who thought he was a woman, not a loner. Still makes me laugh when I hear this song.
Lead vocals: Paul McCartney
Fun fact: Paul looked at Yoko Ono in the studio when he sang, "Get back to where you once belonged."







The Beatles released 217 songs -- list YOUR favorites below!


tags: music, polls, pop culture


10/29/2013

I Heart Rodolphe Lindt

(Note: This is a sponsored post for SheKnows Experts Among Us, but the taste test is all my own)

As you know, I've been enjoying Lindt LINDOR Caramel milk chocolate truffles at work each day (hard life, I know). 

Truth is, I have a total soft spot in my heart for these sweet treats because they make me think of my mom.

Each Christmas when I was growing up, we would head to Willowbrook Mall in scenic Wayne, NJ.  We'd take the escalator up to the 2nd floor, then make a beeline to the shops outside Lord&Taylor to pick up our favorite stocking stuffer. 

Any guess what that was?

Liver & onions! 

Kidding.  It was a big gold bag of Lindt LINDOR chocolate truffles from the Lindt store.  To this day, no holiday is complete without them.  Occasionally, we'd have a few left by the time Christmas Day rolled around.  Always a good idea to leave one for Santa... the man cannot live on cookies alone.

Anyway, at the time we took this photo (17 years ago!), I was a size 8, mauve curtains were all the rage, and that yummy chocolate goodness cost just $10.  But even today, it's an amazing value.

I suppose the same can be said for my pants.

Anyway, you might recall the first taste test I ever did was with a chocolate that melts in your mouth, not in your hands.  Well, THIS is the original that makes every day feel like a special occasion.

My parents live down in Del Boca Vista now, so they can't do this taste test with me, but I'm guessing they'll be pretty happy when I bring them the leftovers next month. 

(If they last that long.)

Join me on a sweet escape...


Recipe: LINDOR Caramel

Shell: milk chocolate infused with caramel
Center: caramel milk chocolate

Escape: major me time




Recipe: LINDOR Dark Chocolate

Shell: dark chocolate
Center: dark chocolate

Escape: medium me time




Recipe: LINDOR Extra Dark Chocolate

Shell: 60% cocoa extra dark chocolate
Center: dark chocolate

Escape: minor me time




Recipe: LINDOR Hazelnut

Shell: milk chocolate with hazelnut pieces
Center: hazelnut milk chocolate

Escape: major me time




Recipe: LINDOR Milk Chocolate

Shell: milk chocolate
Center: milk chocolate

Escape: major me time




Recipe: LINDOR Peanut Butter

Shell: milk chocolate
Center: peanut butter milk chocolate

Escape: massive me time
(yes, there are only 2 here -- I ate 1 during the photo shoot -- I am only human)


Recipe: LINDOR Stracciatella

Shell: white chocolate with cocoa pieces
Center: white chocolate

Escape: major me time




Recipe: LINDOR White Chocolate

Shell: white chocolate
Center: white chocolate

Escape: medium me time





Looks like I gravitate towards the salty-sweet combos -- the ultimate taste combination.  Like, anything and bacon (Lindt, are you listening?). 

What's YOUR chocolate personality?  Vote below! 



Wow, I got through this whole post without once saying, "life is like a box of chocolates!"

Oh. 

Oops...


tags: family, food, pollstaste tests

6/23/2013

The Window Seat Is the Best Seat on the Plane

I've seen a lot of airports lately -- JFK, LaGuardia, O'Hare, DFW, Phoenix, Orlando -- and I've flown almost as many airlines. 

Most of them stink.

It's as though a bunch of execs piled in a room and brainstormed ways to squeeze every last ounce of fun out of air travel. 

Got a bag bigger than a lunchbox -- that'll be $25 to check it.  Oh, you wanted a seat that reclines?  That's $45.  And you'd like a fresh blanket that hasn't been recycled or covered with pee?  $10 please.

Even when you're flying cross-country, could they tack 75 cents onto the ticket price so they can toss you a "free" snack?

Nooooo.

Except glorious JetBlue. 

In my mind, they are the only airline that still cares that the plane ride is part of the journey, not the means to an end.  They still feed you snacks (as many as you'd like!) -- and I'm not talking 6 sweaty peanuts in a napkin.  Actual, brand-name, snack-sized snacks.

In fact, I got caught in one of those furlough disasters last month and they brought unlimited snacks and waters to the gate at JFK, where we were stuck for 8 hours while they sorted out who was on air traffic control in Chicago that day.  (I thought you were?  No, I thought YOU were!)

I had 3 bags of animal crackers.  It's the little things.

The cherry on top is that you can watch TV on all JetBlue flights.  Frankly, I could endure pretty much anything if I can watch TV while doing it.  Turbulence, my neighbor's bad breath, a screaming child kicking my seat?  Whatevs. 

I only have eyes for HGTV.

Regardless of the airline you fly, every bad flight can be made better when you're in the right seat.  Of course, the middle seat is ridiculous and should be outlawed.  But there's always controversy over whether the aisle or the window is better real estate. 

Let me clear this up:  The window seat is the best seat on the plane.

You can slide in there and never move.  Somebody has to go to the miniature rest room?  Not your problem.  Someone needs to throw out their trash?  Hand it to someone else.  Somebody's hogging the arm rest?  Go for it, you've got an armrest -- and a window -- all to yourself.

Sure, it's annoying when the lady next to you is all up in your space because she wants to look out your window (yes, Amelia Earhart, we're in the air -- get over it).  But isn't it worse when you're on the aisle and people keep hitting you in the shoulder with the beverage cart (most airline's last tie to civilization) and their butts?

Yes it is.

Am I right?  Of course I am.  But just for fun, where do YOU prefer to sit?  Vote below...



tags: pollstravel

3/12/2013

Milk's Favorite Cookie

Guess who turned 101 years old last week?

Me?  No! 

Oreo!

Yet another reason to love the Jerz, the Oreo was first sold in Hoboken a century ago.  Today, it is the world's best-selling cookie.  It has 32 million Facebook fans. 

And if you stacked the 450 billion Oreos made since 1912, they would stretch to the moon and back.

Five times.

They say women are more likely to pull an Oreo apart before eating it.  Hmmm... if only there was a robot that separated the cookie and the cream for you.  Oh wait, there is.  Named HERB.

They've come a long way since your lunchbox days. 

When you weren't looking, Oreos multiplied.  Been in the cookie aisle lately?  There are tons of variations on the classic chocolate sandwich cookie with the sweet cream filling. 

But are they better?  I had to put them to the test.

So, I bought 25 different kinds of Oreos (in the name of Important Research) and took over my parents' kitchen in Del Boca Vista. 

Here's how the cookies crumbled...


THE CHOCOLATE COOKIE COMPETITION

THE BEST:
Classic: "Pass the milk!" (mom & dad's fave)
Peanut Butter: "Oreo heaven." (my fave)

THE WORST:
Mint: "I like mint, but not this way." (mom & dad's least fave)
DQ Blizzard: "Tastes like... nothing." (my least fave)

THE OTHERS:
Double Stuf: "So sweet it hurt my teeth."
Chocolate Creme: "Chocolatey or chalky, I can't decide."
Berry: "Interesting."
Triple Double: "Too much cookie, too little creme."





THE GOLDEN COOKIE COMPETITION

THE BEST:
Neopolitan: "Berry good." (mom & dad's fave)
Golden Double: "Tastes like a Vienna Finger." (my fave)

THE WORST:
Heads or Tails: "Chocolate lost this flip." (everybody's least fave)

THE OTHERS:
Golden Chocolate: "Is this one a mistake?"









THE FUDGE CREMES COMPETITION

THE BEST:
Coconut: "I could eat the whole box." (mom & dad's fave)
Peanut Butter: "Tastes like a Tagalong." (my fave)

THE WORST:
Golden: "Was this a yellow one?" (mom's least fave)
Mint: "Not bad if you like mint, which I do not." (dad's least fave)
Coconut: "Yuck." (my least fave)

THE OTHERS:
Regular: "How can you not love an Oreo covered in chocolate?"
Chocolate Creme: "Yep, that's a chocolate!"






THE SPECIALTY CREME COMPETITION

THE BEST:
Gingerbread: "It's festive!" (mom & dad's fave)
Birthday Cake: "I think I like the vanilla-ish-ness." (my fave)

THE WORST:
Halloween: "Is this supposed to have a taste?" (nobody's fave)












THE CAKEY COMPETITION

THE BEST:
Brownie: "I guess I can like this." (mom & dad's fave)
Golden Cakester: "Tastes like a Twinkie... RIP." (my fave)

THE WORST:
Cookie Sticks: "This is a stupid idea." (nobody's fave)

THE OTHERS:
Double Stuf Cakester: "Will be a Devil Dog when it grows up."








BEST IN SHOW

Mom: Coconut Fudge Creme (Classic a close 2nd)

Dad: Classic Oreo

Me: Peanut Butter Oreo (Classic a close 2nd)










So, can you have too much of a good thing?  No.  Even the bad ones were still pretty tasty (except for that weird cookie stick and oily creme dip -- that was gross). 

But it's safe to say the classic Oreo is still the best.  Just don't forget the milk. 

And don't smile -- nobody likes "Oreo Teeth."




tags: food, jersey, polls, taste tests

11/06/2012

Please Fix Voting (It Is Broken)

See the girl in the middle of this photo? 

That's me, at age 17, in the lobby of Montville Township High School. (Go Mustangs!)

I'm all hopeful and smiley, sitting next to my BFF. Look at my hair! Total Jersey.

Now, look at the signs behind me.

Vote!

That was 1991. And I’ve voted in every presidential, senatorial, gubernatorial, and mayoral race since 1992.

Fast forward to today – Election Day 2012. My hair is flatter and my hope has been replaced by frustration.

But this post isn’t about WHO should be president for the next 4 years. It’s not even about urging citizens to exercise their right to vote (which they totally should). It’s about something bigger than electing the leader of the free world.

It’s about the process itself.

Our voting system is beyond broken. Somebody, please fix it.

This morning, I arrived at PS166 in midtown Manhattan at 8:45, and FINALLY cast my vote sometime around 11:15. For anybody who likes to count, that's two and a half hours later...

I know this year's election had extenuating circumstances from the hurricane.  But the length of time I waited didn't have to do with voter turnout.  It had inefficiency (and chaos) written all over it.  During this time I spent on disorganized lines, which snaked around city blocks, stairways, lunch tables, and a gymnasium, I saw the following:
  • A guy that lives in my building who got tired of waiting on line was given a ballot in the middle of the gym. No ID check, no signing the book.  So much for registered voters.
  • A guy was confused on how to fill the ballot out. He leaned over to the stranger next to him, who told him just to fill in the circle for Obama. He said ok. So much for no campaigning within 200ft of a polling place.
  • A man and a woman sat together on a bench next to the check-in table for my district (#11). While I was showing my ID, he filled out his ballot. Then he filled HERS out while she stared off into space. When I told the volunteer (who sat 3ft from the couple) what I was witnessing, she shrugged. "Nothing I can do," she said. So much for election inspectors keeping things on the up-and-up.
  • A volunteer who took my completed ballot reviewed all my choices, before the machine accepted my vote.  So much for privacy.

It should be easier to vote now than at any other time in history, but it’s not. We can do better than this!

Here's my 3-step fix:

1. Privatize:
It needs to be said.  Elections should be run by impartial voting agencies (preferably from the private sector), NOT elected officials. If the majority of the world runs this way, why can’t the USA?

2. Modernize:
I vote in NY, which recently upgraded from giant metal-lever voting machines circa 1950 to Scantron machines circa 1980. I took my SAT with those things! This is 2012, right? Why are we waiting on interminable lines? Why did someone steal the tethered pen in my voting “booth,” leaving me to root around in my purse to find nothing to write with but a tin of Altoids and a tampon? If I can deposit a check into my bank account using my cell phone, why can’t I vote online?  Get with the times!

3. Standardize:
Let's get the whole country on the same page. Primary elections? They should be held twice – once with all candidates, and once with the top 2 – simultaneously across the country, not winding down over months and months like a political game of chicken. Early voting? Every state should have it – or not – and for the same set amount of time. Machines? Everyone should use the same kind. Election Day? Should be a holiday so everyone can get there. And identification? Require it. You can’t get a beer without an ID!

Bonus: While I'm fixing stuff, let's get rid of the Electoral College and go to a popular vote so a handful of swing states aren't given the power to decide the fate of an election for the entire country. And every vote actually counts.

So, what do YOU think?  In pure democratic fashion, here's a poll.  On the internet.  What a concept...

tags: holidays, politics, polls

10/17/2012

Dislike

You know, I love my social media.  I have Facebook open all day long.  For work.

Mostly.

And I pop on from time to time at home during nights and weekends too.

My favorite thing is seeing all the pics of people's kids (except when they’re on the potty – my eyes!), and their pets (eh…), and the cinnamon bun somebody just ate that looked EXACTLY like Justin Bieber (it was like his twin!!).

But there are a few types of people on Facebook that I kind of loathe.


Maybe you know these people too?


THE POLITICO
I would really like to still be friends with all my friends on Nov 7th. So PLEASE pipe down with the amateur political analysis, lame photo captions, misquoted soundbites, and insulting running commentary. They like their guy. I like my guy. Or maybe we even like the same guy. Just zip it! Binders and Big Bird and the 47%. Birth certificates and liberal media and apology tours. It’s all baloney. Jobs. Debt. Healthcare. Defense. We have some serious issues to vote on, and the guy who gets elected will be everybody’s President, not just the folks who voted for him. So take the passion to the polls and keep it out of my newsfeed. (And get off my lawn!)


THE RELENTLESS PROMOTER
I know a few people who have started small businesses. One friend from an old job launched a t-shirt company in India. Another friend from high school started a cookie company in Jersey. An old boss/dear friend created a magnificent motel in the Catskills. That’s all cool. I like their updates. What isn’t cool is the acquaintance -- also from an old job -- who does nothing but post 200 times/day about her clients. “Princess Sassafrass* (*not a real name) just wrote this charming blog post, read it now and laugh your tutu off!” “Princess Sassafrass is appearing at a bus stop in Boston – all my Beantown peeps, ride the bus and show some luv.” “Princess Sassafrass is walking for a cure, donate today to rid the world of sadness and meanies!” You know what? This clueless bozo has now signed me up for Princess Sassafrass’s email newsletter! That’s where I draw the line. UNSUBSCRIBE!


THE HUMBLE BRAGGART
(This one might seem strange coming from me. After all, this is a personal blog.  I may as well be a 12-year-old with a diary, bacne, and a poster of Edward Cullen over my bed. But stick with me for a sec…)  “Ugh, I hate being inconvenienced by my brownstone reno #guessitstakeoutagain.” “Man, am I jetlagged from the trip to Tahiti #somebodygatorademe.” “Sucks when you don’t look as good as your bookcover #shouldawashedmyhair.” I’m sick to death of all this false modesty. No more: “Waaah, my diamond shoes are too tight.” Don’t be coy! I only want to see: “Eff-yeah! I’m so RICH I wear diamonds on my FEET. Boom.” Sure, I’ll still unfriend you, but I won’t want to give you a wedgie (though I *may* steal a shoe).


Maybe I’m cranky. Hey, did I mention, last week I had a meeting at Facebook’s Madison Ave offices? I was totally overdressed, sipping on free lemonade, contemplating the writing on the wall. It said, “Proceed and Be Bold.” So I stuck my resume in their binder.

Kidding... but annoying, right? Told ya!


Alright, rant over.  Tell me how YOU handle these folks...





tags: politics, polls, technology

8/17/2012

What Do You Wear to The White House?

So, I'm in DC for an event I'm working on at The White House.

Say what?!?

Not A white house.  THE White House.

I'm beside myself. 

I've worked on some very cool events in my day.  Dennis Rodman signing books in a wedding dress.  American Idol tryouts at Giants Stadium with the Travelocity Roaming Gnome.  Proposals at the ice rink in Rockefeller Center. Valentine's Day weddings atop the Empire State Building.  Love stories in a glass truck in Times Square. 

But this one takes the cake. 

It all started over a year ago when our Editor in Chief had an idea to team up with Let's Move for a healthy recipe contest for kids.  Fast forward to this April, when we launched a nationwide search for the best school lunch recipes from every state.  That's where I came in. 

In July, we announced winners from all 50 states, plus DC and 3 territories.  And this weekend we are bringing 54 Junior Chefs, age 8-12, plus a parent, to our nation's capital for 2 days filled with foodie fun.  The cherry on top is lunch at The White House with the First Lady (and a mini concert from a boy band on Nickelodeon that the young people enjoy, called Big Time Rush). 

Just your normal, run-of-the-mill weekend.

Juggling complex travel itineraries and logistics for these events is nothing compared to the biggest thing weighing on my mind right now.

WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO THE WHITE HOUSE???

Oh, the pressure! 

I want my outfit to convey how honored I feel to be there.  I hope to look feminine but authoritative.  I want to be dressy but appropriate for a daytime lunch with kids.  It should be summery but modest.  I need to have some level of comfort so I could spring into action at any moment. And let's not forget, if there's any time -- ever -- in your life to look patriotic, this is IT!

I had 2 outfits already in my closet.  One I've worn to a wedding, one I wear to work.  Meh. 

So I bought a new dress.  Then I bought 2 more.  PLUS 4 pairs of shoes.  (Way to stimulate the economy, Jen.)  I couldn't stop!  I did a fashion show in my apt.  Twice.  And I STILL can't decide, so I brought them all with me.

I turn to you, Trusted Reader.  Please help!

Take a look at what I'm working with and vote below:






I'll wear whatever you pick for me.  Seriously.  As long as it's one of these outfits.

I hear the lunch will be televised, so tune live in starting at 10am on Monday to watch this super exciting event at The White House. 

And also to see what I wear.  'Cause those 2 things are pretty much on par. 

Wish me luck!!

In the meantime, here's a taste of what's to come:



tags: politics, polls, shopping, travel, work

5/12/2012

The Social Butterfly

When I was in the 1st grade, my teacher, Mrs. Buzinky, told my parents I was a good student.  Her only complaint was, “Jenny is a social butterfly.”

It was the same with Mrs. Tubbs in the 4th grade. And with Mrs. Barbarise in the 5th grade.  And with Miss Kaminski in the 7th grade. And with Mrs. Kain in the 10th grade. And with Father Mayzik sophomore year in college.

Vocal. Talkative. Chatty. Motormouth.

That’s me.

I guess that's why I started this blog.  It gives me a place to talk about my favorite subject: Myself. 

But I am not someone who grew up with a computer. I went through high school and college with a dinky Smith Corona Personal Word Processor (a fancy way of saying electric typewriter). It had a screen that displayed 8 lines at a time. The modern-day equivalent of writing essays via text message.

I still remember the first computer I ever bought. It was 1995, I’d just graduated from college, and although I didn’t have a job quite yet, I DID have a shiny new credit card whispering in my ear... charge it!

So I did.

And for all I know, I’m still paying for it.  It was a Gateway, it came in a box that looked like a cow, and it weighed 100lbs. I taught myself to use it and my inner geek was instantly smitten.

When I did get a job later that summer, only ONE computer in my entire office was connected to the Internet. Today -- 3 desktops, 2 laptops, 4 wireless routers, 2 blogs, 7 social networks, 2 smartphones, 1 connected TV, and a tablet later -- I have crossed the final frontier (until they create a new one that involves holograms and/or smell-o-vision).

I bought my own URL.

It’s not like I thought someone would steal it – while my first name's a dime a dozen, my last name is pretty rare. I think there’s only 1 other girl in the WORLD who has it – she friended me once on Facebook in a total Twilight Zone moment. She’s about half my age, lives in France, smokes, has multiple piercings and tattoos, and a boyfriend who is a DJ. Soon after, she changed her name to a French obscenity and unfriended me.

We’re like twins.

In fact, I was inspired by an ACTUAL friend, who writes a really helpful blog. His most recent post was on all the reasons you should own your own name. Huh. He made a compelling argument. I’ve worked in digital for the past 12 years -- how could I NOT own my own domain?

Luckily, he’s also an excellent teacher so he created a step-by-step guide to follow. In about 20 minutes (which included time spent rooting around in 3 different handbags for my wallet), I was up and running.

It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a good place to keep track of all the networks this social butterfly frequents.  And it ensures nobody will confuse me with little Jenny Merde.

Oohlala.



PS: Social butterflies like company!  Follow me, I will follow you (unless you’re creepy, then you’re on your own):
Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Google+
Tumblr
Foursquare
Pinterest (my personal fave)

 
tags: polls, technology, work

3/04/2012

London Calling

I know I’m overdue for a post. Hopefully this is a juicy one...

Right before the holidays, a guy from eHarmony sent me a communication request. He was 36, 6’ tall, lived on the UES, brown hair and eyes, worked as a “fitness manager” (whatever that is) but looked more like a bookworm than a gym rat.

On a scale from 1-10 with 10 being the best, he was about a 4. But then I read that that he was British. Hmmm. That did change things because I do love me some British accent -- even if awful teeth and pale skin often ride shotgun. 

Suddenly, he was a solid 6.

So I tore myself away from my first love (TV) and wrote him back. We went through the normal communication stages, and I began to notice a pattern.

We had absolutely nothing in common.

I like to sightsee in big cities, he thought camping in the wilderness was a swell way to spend a weekend. I like to cook big dinners, he thought a protein shake was a meal. I like going to concerts and movies, he thought the only events worth going to involved a football (and by football, I mean soccer ball).

Then London Calling and I talked on the phone.

Camping, shakes, and soccer be damned -- I was wooed by that accent!

I agreed to meet him for a drink and went through my traditional pre-date ritual. (What? You aren’t familiar? Oh, sit back and enjoy -- it’s a true window into my neuroses…)

First, I dump a pile of underwear on my couch. I should clarify: this is CLEAN underwear. It is 100% MORE probable that Sarah Palin can see Russia from her house than it is that I would EVER invite a guy up to my apartment on the first date. But still, I like having this insurance policy. A couch full of unmentionables means nobody’s making it past the lobby. Period. (I’m sure there’s a joke there, so let’s pretend I made one.)

Second, I put on a pair of heels. This puts me at 6’ tall and allows me to verify that my date is as tall as he says he is and that he meets/exceeds my 6’ height requirement. I know, I KNOW, totally, completely, unbelievably superficial. But it beats carting around one of those signs you see at amusement parks which state you must be this tall to ride this ride. That would just be awkward and gives the wrong impression! I’m not that kind of girl (see my undie-covered couch).

Third, I puff up my hair – but just on one side. Being a Jersey Girl with a thick mane, this is not tough. The “wall of hair” is an essential weapon in my dating arsenal (recall its use to block the view of my date’s public flossing). This provides ample cover should I ever find myself on the receiving end of an unwanted kiss goodnight.

Are you exhausted yet? Me too.

BTW if I’ve ever gone on a date with someone who’s reading this post, I NEVER did this with you (yes I did).

Anyway, I got to the bar first. It was pretty crowded, so I stayed by the door, purposely situated near a squirrely girl who struck me as the type who might keep a bag of drain hair or toenail clippings in her nightstand.

Needless to say, it was a flattering adjacency.

He came in a few minutes later and instantly recognized me from my pics. We wandered away from the bar and grabbed a table by the front window. Looking back, it’s possible the people already sitting there weren’t ready to leave yet, but I was in heels and my feet were swelling by the second. No doubt, I’d have gotten full-on kankles if we stood all night. Besides, I’d just verified that he checked out as 6’ tall so we were in the clear.

I ordered a vodka tonic, he ordered a warm, dark beer that was not Guinness. Then we began to talk. And talk. And talk. THREE hours, another round of drinks, and a trip to the loo later, it was really time to go.

Now, here’s the confusing thing about me: Just because we talked for 3 hours doesn’t actually mean we hit it off.

We still had nothing in common. Actually, no we had ONE thing in common. He had a face and so do I. Otherwise… nada. But I could talk the paint off a wall, and he, having just met me, could not be expected to know such a thing.  He mistakenly thought this was a good first date.

To be fair, it WAS better than the vast majority of my other horrific first dates. Plus, I DID hang on his every word because I loved his accent. AND I laughed at his dry humor, because I am polite and also because I couldn’t exactly hear everything he was saying above the noisy crowd. And he laughed too! Or maybe it was a cough. I couldn’t tell.

I can see why he would have gone in for a smooch, but I don’t think I have to tell you what happened next…

Still dazed from his faceful of hair, he muttered something about doing it again, and stumbled off. I felt bad.  I tried to keep an open mind -- really I did -- but you can’t fake chemistry. And we had none. Which is why I felt even worse, when he texted the next morning telling me what a nice time he had and how he hoped we could do it again next week.

Again? Oh no! Ugh. I’m horrible.

I texted him back saying I enjoyed meeting him too (this was true). I said it was unfortunate we can’t meet up (this was NOT true). I said I would be away visiting my parents in FL the following week (this was true).

He wished me a good trip, and I forgot all about it. Until Christmas Day. My phone buzzed and it was a text from him. He wanted to wish me a merry Christmas. Why couldn’t he be a Grinchy Scrooge? And why couldn’t I find him remotely attractive? And WHY didn’t I ever want to camp or check myself for ticks?

I texted him back and wished him a jolly holiday. I got no response. And because I’m so destined to be alone for all eternity, in my twisted mind that was a GOOD thing. Ahhh. Until, he texted again. This time, on New Year’s Eve. He wanted to wish me a happy 2012, and asked when would I be back in NYC?

Sigh.

I wrote him back. Happy New Year, I said. But I didn’t answer his question about when I’d be home. That’s the last I heard from him. The other day, he closed our match on eHarmony.  Aaand I feel awful.

I know I didn’t handle that right. He was a nice guy, it’s not his fault we didn’t click. And now, I’m certain I have a big fat ugly ball of bad dating karma waiting for me. You just know there’s going to be a tall guy with beautiful teeth and a tan who reads to blind old people WHILE he’s curing cancer AND rescuing kittens from trees. He’s going to blow me off big time. And I’ll totally deserve it.

Right? 

Soooo that was my last first date. Nailed it!


tags: dating, polls

9/18/2011

Three Candles

If my blog could speak right now, it might channel the immortal Samantha Baker and say, "They effing forgot my birthday."

Uhhh... oops?

Work's been crazy.  It's a full moon.  Mercury is in retrograde.  The dog ate my homework.  And I plain forgot that I wrote my very first post on Sept 14, 2008. 

Bad Jenny.

So, just as I did after the first year, and the second year, it's time to take stock. And, more importantly, to send a heartfelt thanks to everyone who reads my silly ol' blog -- especially YOU.

Now, let's jog on down memory lane...

Total Posts I've Written (including this one):
166

Average Number of Posts I Write Per Month:
4.3 (down from 4.7 last year)

Average Number of Unique Visitors Per Month:
81 (up from 62 last year)

Average Pageviews Per Month:
697 (up from 338 last year)

Average Time Spent Per Visit:
3 minutes 18 seconds (down from 4 minutes 47 seconds last year)

Most Read Blog Post (6-way tie):
Time
Memorial Day
Thinking Out Loud
Trick or Treat
Pepe Le Pew
Royal Wedding Mania Is Running Wild

Post Nobody Gave a Crap About (3-way tie):
Fly the Friendly Skies
12 Angry Men
Cable Guy

Most Comments:
Time

Most Popular Poll:
Federal Un-Reserved

Most Frequently-Used Tag for the Posts I Write:
Pop Culture

Most Popular Search by Visitors (2-way tie):
Dating
Breakup


So, there you have it.  I'm not sure if it's age-appropriate to spill my guts once a week on topics both trivial and personal, but I don't care.  Truth is, I really do love blogging. 

But I wrestle with how often I should do it.  That's where you come in...

Vote below, Hot Stuff!


tags: holidays, polls, writing

8/10/2011

You Just Got Pringled!

What’s that? You say it’s about time for a new taste test?  I couldn’t agree more!

Rather than go for sweets like this time, or this time, I dug deep into the salty category. Think crunchy. Think crispy. Think potato(ish) chips.

I’m speaking, of course, of Pringles.

Now, I can already see you turning your nose up at the crisp that isn’t legally allowed to call itself a chip because it’s only 42% potato. Oh, what a misunderstood snack!

I think there’s something beautifully precise about their uniform shape and the way they line up in a stack. I like the irony of organized junk food.

Plus, Pringles don’t fraternize with your average low-rent bag of chips, all hap-hazard and broken with that weird stubby green one that you're never sure whether to eat or whether to write a letter to the company's CEO and report a tainted bag (or is that just me?).

NO!  Pringles are too good for that. Which is why they stand tall on the shelf in the high-priced nuts neighborhood.  Fancy.

Here’s my top 3 reasons to give them a pop:
  • You have to love Mr. Julius Pringle in all his olden-timey barbershop mustache glory.
  • The guy who invented the Pringle asked to be buried in a can, and he got his wish in 2008.
  • The brand recently sold for $2.35B – that’s a lot of chips (or crisps, as it were)!
So, as I was saying, we tried a TON of Pringles. And by a ton, I mean 18 canisters. Didn’t know there were that many flavors? Neither did we. So, obviously, a blind test was in order to see who’s taste buds could tell the difference between BBQ, Sweet BBQ, and Cheddar BBQ.

Not as easy as it sounds.

My sister-in-law had the good sense to stay out of this one, but my brother and I went head-to-head, armed with nothing but our wits and a gallon of water...

Here’s how the 18 flavors tasted (we could have had 20 -- if not for the elusive Bacon Ranch and Mozzarella Stick!):
  1. Original: 2 correct guesses (if we didn’t get this layup, we would have quit)
  2. Sour Cream & Onion: 2 correct
  3. Cheddar Cheese: 2 correct (helps that these are bright orange)
  4. BBQ: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for Pizza
  5. Jalapeno: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for Mexican Layered Dip
  6. Pizza: 1 mistaken for Buffalo Wing, 1 mistaken for Cajun
  7. Ranch: 2 correct
  8. Loaded Baked Potato: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for Cheddar BBQ
  9. Salt & Vinegar: 2 correct
  10. Honey Mustard: 2 correct (and can I just say, yum?)
  11. Buffalo Wing: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for Cajun
  12. Dill Pickle: 2 correct (and tastes like your sneaker would after a long run)
  13. Cajun: 1 mistaken for Sweet BBQ, 1 mistaken for Onion Blossom
  14. Sweet BBQ: 1 mistaken for Pizza, 1 mistaken for Mexican Layered Dip
  15. White Cheddar Popcorn: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for Loaded Baked Potato
  16. Mexican Layered Dip: 1 mistaken for Jalapeno, 1 mistaken for Sweet BBQ
  17. Onion Blossom: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for White Cheddar Popcorn
  18. Cheddar BBQ: 1 correct, 1 mistaken for plain BBQ

By the end, we had a thirst that a thousand gallons of waters could not quench, and we had Pringles Claw from stuffing our hands in the tube. And I’m not sure who they think they’re fooling with that cap.

Let’s be honest: 1 can = 1 serving.

So who’s palate was the most particular? I'm only semi-ashamed it admit it was mine -- with 13 correct guesses. My brother got 8.  I think he was congested.  But the real winner here is Julius Pringle. I spent like $45 bucks on chips that are only 42% potato!

While we discovered a few new favorites (I'm talking to YOU Honey Mustard and White Cheddar Popcorn), I’m rather thankful we didn’t have access to the international flavors. The Prawn Cocktail and meaty Roast Turkey flavors popular in the UK, or Seaweed with its “natural ocean flavor” and Old American Circus (aka Funky Mustard) eaten in Asia just sound plain gross.

But if old Julius feels like taking a dip in a pot of chocolate, I’d be all over that!  Just sayin.


 
tags: food, polls