Hey, You Never Know

I don’t think I’ve ever bought a lottery ticket. But I got one today!

Actually, I bought 7. One Mega Millions ticket each for me, my parents, my brother and sis-in-law, and the kids. That felt like a lucky number – my mom was born on the 7th day of the 7th month, and our last name starts with G, which happens to be the 7th letter of the alphabet.

I let the machine pick them, and the friendly guy behind the counter even wished me good luck.  Thanks, buddy!

Apparently I have a better chance of being in a car collision with a deer AND getting a hole in one in golf AND drowning then getting revived AND being attacked by a shark and surviving than I do of winning this lottery (176M to 1).  But I’ll take it.

Like the little guy says, “Hey, you never know.”

Until 11pm when the numbers are chosen, anything is possible. I could still win! And if I did snag this $640M jackpot (the biggest EVER), here’s how I would spend the first 7 days:

DAY 1: I’d buy a wig and a fake moustache. Another thing you never know is when you'll need a disguise. 

DAY 2: I’d take the lump sum payout of $462M and give Uncle Sam his 25% taste.  I'll pay my NY taxes too, but only if Bloomberg would personally come pick it up.  I'll be at the original Shake Shack eating my weight in crinkle fries.

DAY 3: I’d fill my 550sqft apartment with $100 bills.  Then I'd invite my family over for a dip in the money pool, while shouting, Oprah-style: “YOU get ten million dollars! And YOU get TEN million dollars! And YOU GET TENNNNN MILLLLLIONNNN DOOOOLLARRRRS!”

DAY 4: I’d get another BMW X3 with its glorious panoramic moonroof, and we'd all cruise on out to Pine Brook to buy our old house back. Just walk up and ring the bell, checkbook in hand. Name your price, lady.

DAY 5: I’d buy every exit on the Garden State Parkway. At each tollbooth, there would be a cardboard-cutout of me, which people could High-5 as they drove through for free.

DAY 6: I’d get myself a man-servant. I may never have a husband, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to throw out the trash and change light bulbs for the rest of my life.  I will call him Jeeves.

DAY 7: On the 7th day, I would rest. And by rest, I mean retire. To my own island.  Aloha.


So before some toothless bozo from Podunk, West Virgina wins and kills all our dreams, what would YOU do with $640M?


tags: pop culture

A Century of Samoas

Amidst news of the 300lb disease-ridden feral pigs that are eating New York state farmers out of crops, and utterly gushy Olive Garden reviews out of North Dakota, you might have heard that the Girl Scouts turned 100 yesterday.

I never became a full-fledged Girl Scout, but I WAS a Brownie for 1 glorious year in the 3rd grade. And man, I loved that little polyester brown uniform!

Every other Tuesday was like a holiday because my troop would meet, and I could wear my snazzy duds to school. I loved the sweater. And the Peter Pan shirt collar.  And the orange snap-on necktie. And the beanie hat. And the shapeless pants. And the matching mini-Brownie doll my mom got me from JCPenney.

But most of all, I loved the sash.

I still have it! It’s in a bin in my brother’s basement with all my other childhood memorabilia. I recall it having a “gold” Girl Scout logo pin and a bunch of badges, all lovingly sewn on by my mom.

But only 2 of the badges really stand out in my mind, 30 (ahem) years later...

The first I remember I earned for gardening at a greenhouse. I know this because my small hands swelled up while I was doing it. Turns out I was allergic to the cactus we were planting. How could a girl from suburban New Jersey (by way of The Bronx) possibly be expected to know that?

The second I remember earning for selling the most cookies in my troop. (I believe it said “go big or go home” at the bottom in teeny tiny embroidery.)

But really, it’s my dad who should have earned the badge.

I wasn’t much for going door-to-door. Not when my high school class decided to sell stinky green bandannas as a fundraiser (that’ll be $40, mom… Go Mustangs!). Or when my CCD class decided to give us all cardboard rice bowls during Lent (yes, parents, I’ll take ALL your spare change). And certainly not when I was 8 and it was time to stimulate the cookie economy.

That’s where my dad came in.

Armed with nothing but a glossy fold-out card covered in irresistible cookie porn (aka Samoas, Tag-a-longs, Thin Mints, and Trefoils), my dad went to his office to sell those suckers.

Turns out he could sell a dumptruck of cookies to a bunch of middle-aged Wall Street dudes with a sweet tooth and 20 extra beans weighing down their alligator wallets.

If I recall, they had to attach 2 additional legal-sized pages for all the orders. A few months later, the Girl Scout bakers birthed out our jumbo-sized order and my poor dad had to schlep massive bags of cookie boxes into NYC for a week straight.

In all our cookie-fueled enthusiasm, I don’t think we thought that part sufficiently through.

The Girls have come a long way in all this time. I hear there’s even an app to locate a cookie-dealer near you, which sounds WAY riskier than going door-to-door in your neighborhood, but who am I to judge? My dad was a 37 year-old man-Brownie for a day. I never had to lift a finger, except to push sweet, sweet Tag-a-longs into my toothless mouth.

Lucky me!

(And for the record, I will pay it forward by buying all the stale candy bars, ill-fitting t-shirts, car wash coupons, and cheap gift wrapping sets that my niece and nephew will ever get saddled with selling.)

So here’s to the Girl Scouts (and to my dad) – who have inspired my lifelong love of cookies.  And the color brown.

Happy 100th birthday!


Were YOU ever a Brownie? Or do you just like to eat them? No matter, list your go-to GS cookie below... for me, coconutty Samoas and peanutbuttery Tag-a-longs are in a dead heat.


Tags: family, food, holidays, pop culture

Royal Wedding Mania Is Running Wild

I would imagine your workplace isn’t as royally-infused as mine.

For instance, are your colleagues (who aren't stationed in London) hosting a sleepover to watch Wills and Kate's nuptials? Or designing cool royal manicures? Do you plan to have tea and scones in your conference room tomorrow to review the play-by-play? Or has anyone cooked up an entire wedding watching menu chock-a-block with British fare?

I’m guessing no.

While I am slightly bitter that Kate stole my sapphire engagement ring idea (which I, incidentally, stole from Diana, the original trendsetter and owner of that 18-carat rock), I still can’t help but get a little swept into the hoopla too.

Just for a minute.

Ok, maybe TEN minutes. Max. Like when I played Princess Yourself the first time. Or the second time. Or the third time.  Or made myself into a royal stamp. Or gave myself a royal name.  Please note: I hereto forthwith shall evermore be known as Lady Jennifer Eugenia Gaonachton of Pine Brookport.

Smashing!

I’m not, however, sold on the idea of waking up at 4am to watch the wedding. In fact, I think if my own brother asked me to watch his wedding at 4am I’d tell him to… bugger off. But there are plenty of ways to participate, if you didn’t receive a faxed (seriously, faxed?) save-the-date or your gold-embossed invitation (one of 1900) got lost in the mail.

Here’s my 15-step plan for the festivities. You are cordially invited to follow it too…

STEP 1: Eat Easter Candy

God save the Queen-sized box of Peeps that's airing out on my table until it's nice and stale.  I will be too busy trying to find my own version of the Kate Middleton jellybean look-a-like.  I think that's a peach Jelly Belly.  I'm sure it's in my basket somewhere.

STEP 2: Learn What's Going On Inside Prince William and Catherine's Heads 

After coming up empty-handed in the jellybean department, I will spend some time on eBay bidding for a limited edition William & Kate PEZ Set.  I imagine when I am old(er), I will also enjoy taking my fiber supplements from these whimsical dispensers.

STEP 3: Meet the Royal Family

Better than paper dolls, and far less creepy than blowups, I'm choosing to Knit My Own Royal Wedding so I can play along at home.  They make even Prince Charles and the Queen Mum look downright cuddly.  Plus, this is a skill I feel will come in handy down the line, as it will be perfect practice for when I am forced to knit my own husband and children.

STEP 4: Hydrate

The Royal Wedding is a marathon, not a sprint.  As such, I will overcome my aversion to hot beverages and pour myself a spot of tea, using my KaTEA and William Tea Bags.  I will giggle politely as I watch them bob up and down in a brown bath.

STEP 5: Eat a Tiara

I'll leave wearing crowns to Burger King.  Me?  I prefer eating them, which is why I will consume an entire box of Eleni’s Royal Wedding Biscuits, which includes, of course, a bejeweled tiara.  I will feel only slightly bad eating Will and Kate's heads.  I hope they don't taste like marmite.

STEP 6: Save Room for Pizza

I will try not to spoil my appetite, and leave room in my stomach for Papa John’s Royal Wedding Pizza. I'm particularly fond of William's pepperoni uniform, and will vow to eat that part last.

STEP 7: Vomit

The blend of jellybeans, PEZ, tea, cookies, and pizza will not sit well in my tummy.  Luckily, I'll have a Royal Wedding Toilet Seat so I can upchuck in a manner befitting a princess.  This cheeky loo décor gives new meaning to the word “throne” and will allow me to evacuate Buckingham Palace to make room for more treats later on. Can I jam more innuendo in here?  Yes.  Talk about a royal flush!

STEP 8: Get All Gussied Up

Some people may think it's appropriate to wear fancy hats or morning coats to Westminster Abbey.  But remember, I'm from Jersey.  So of course, I'm going straight for the Royal Nail Decals. 

STEP 9: Get My Drink On

Now it's time to get serious.  The happy couple may have banned beer from their reception, but you can bet I'll be hitting the local pub to guzzle a sixpack of Kiss Me Kate Beer in their honor.  (Does anyone think Ms. Middleton looks a lot like Lauren Conrad, or is that just the beer talking?)

STEP 10: Cheers!

I'd get pretty plastered if I did a shot for every year I haven't walked down the aisle (roughly 37.5).  Slightly less depressing, though, would be to play the Royal Wedding Drinking Game.  Simply take a sip of beer each time I see a duke, duchess, or a sword?  Oh, that sounds like MUCH more fun, and gives me a brand new excuse to love my iPhone.

STEP 11: Vomit Again

Damn those dukes, duchesses, and swords -- they're everywhere!  Of course, the Kiss Me Kate will come right back up.  Luckily, I have my very own, highly portable Royal Wedding Barf Bag.  They also come in blue or a 2-pack of gold and purple, which frankly, are too posh to use.

STEP 12: Get a Room

I'll be pretty tuckered out after all that gallivanting about in the pub.  Good thing I've got Royal Bed-ding.  Who says you can't wear Kate's navy blue engagement dress AND wake up next to a prince?

STEP 13: Make a New Friend

Tradition says that Will and Kate won't be kissing at the end of their wedding ceremony, and neither should I.  But just incase I lose my head and there's a frog next to me under those princely sheets, it might be a good idea to keep some Crown Jewels in my purse next to the barf bag.  It's birth control fit for a king!

STEP 14: Papa Don't Preach

You know, novelty condoms are never a good idea.  So in the event that these weren't up for the challenge and I accidentally produce an heir to the throne, Royal Pacifiers could be in my future.

STEP 15: Find a Proper Baby Daddy

Let's hope my baby has red hair.  That will make it a LOT easier to pass it off as Harry's.  This Princely Mousepad will help me keep my mission top-of-mind.  Do you think the royals are on eHarmony?










So... if you're still reading all this nonsense, who's with me??

No one?  Ok.

Well, did you know that Prince William’s last name is Mountbatten-Windsor? Or that his full title is His Royal Highness Prince William Arthur Louis of Wales, Royal Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter Master of Arts?

That must be a bitch to sign. 

I should probably start practicing Prince Harry's name now.  For the birth certificate.


tags: holidays, pop culture, work

Can You Hear Me Now?

They say good things come to those who wait.

So, I waited. And waited, and waited, and waaaaiiiiiittted. Then the glorious day came: 02/03/11.

(think Steve Jobs reads my blog?)

Not one to mess around with something so critically important, I'm unashamed to admit that I set my alarm so I could wake up exactly at 3am last Thursday to be one of the first to purchase a Verizon iPhone. It also happened to be my half birthday, and since my full birthday was such crap, this was a happy coincidence.

I didn’t even hit snooze!

Of course, you’d expect nothing less from a #1 fan. And apparently, I wasn’t alone. It’s estimated that over 500K existing Verizon customers purchased the iPhone 4 in the first 17 hours it was available. They had to shut it down because of excessive demand. It’s already the most successful Verizon launch ever -- and it’s not even available in stores. Yet.

Well, I’m thrilled to report that at long last… the Eagle. Has. Landed. Wooohoooo!

It’s like Christmas all over again. But a zillion times better. And I have to say, the whole process couldn’t have gone smoother (more smoothly? Eh, whatever.). I’m totally impressed by the site they set up to handle orders. I logged right on, it recognized me and my pitiful Razr, AND it automatically had my $50 credit listed.

If you listened closely, you could hear a siren go off at VZW headquarters when they saw I finally redeemed it. I’ve been out of contract for YEARS.

Then, I tracked that package like Linda Church tracks a storm.

The National Weather Service has got nothing on me. Origin scan in West Chester, PA! Pack your patience, it just departed Philly!! Arrived in Saddle Brook, NJ!!! Don’t forget the umbrella -- it’s out for delivery from Long Island City!!!!

My doorman signed for it at 5:35 last night. Heaven. And when I got my hot little hands on it after work, all I had to do was sync it with iTunes to activate. No annoying calls to a toll-free number, or worse, having to visit the store to do it in-person. It even came fully charged! Within minutes, I was up and running.

Even the Jetsons never thought of anything this cool. And they could fly.

Oh, the future is now, my friends.

If I could only figure out how to blog from it, I would have. Instead, I sent what I thought was an email (but turns out was actually a text message) to my brother and sister-in-law. I feel like the cavemen must have felt when they discovered fire.

Ahhhh, pretty! But don’t get crazy or you’ll burn your eyebrows off.

I can’t wait to discover everything this new phone can do. As you know, my old cell phone and my iPod were the last remaining connections to my relationship. On the phone were almost a thousand text messages he sent me over the course of our year together, dozens of photos he took, and 2 of his phone numbers. I didn’t have the heart to delete them, mainly because I didn’t have the stomach to go through them. Too much to re-live.

On the iPod were hundreds of songs -- our Infinite Playlist. I used to listen to those songs each day and think of us and our future. Since we broke up, every time one crept into the mix, I couldn’t skip to the next song fast enough. It was like a horrible game of Name That Tune. “I can start bawling in six notes, George.”

I wonder if there’s an app for that?

Anyway, what I love most about this new phone is it’s really a new beginning. I have now checked everything off my list. All ties are cut. I guess it’s taken me this long to finally say goodbye… by saying hello.

So, cheers to new beginnings. And btw there IS an app for that.

What else should I download? Is Angry Birds worth the hype? Enlighten me below.


tags: pop culture, shopping

Let Them Eat Jelly Beans

Today marks the 100th birthday of Ronald Reagan, The Great Communicator. Whether you like him or not, he proved one thing that has benefitted Democrats and Republicans alike…

The #1 requirement to win the US Presidency is personality.

And a great speechwriter.

Even now, I view of our 40th President with child-like nostalgia. I was just 7 years old when he took office in January 1981. It was Oakland vs Philly in Super Bowl XV (Oakland won). Pac-Man fever was sweeping the nation. We were all glued to Dallas and the lives of the Ewings. Raiders of the Lost Ark was tops in the box office. Reading Cujo kept folks up at night. Everyone wished she was Jesse’s Girl. And MTV was born.

The milestones of this presidency are burned in my memory too. I clearly recall coming home from elementary school to find out he’d been shot. I got scared seeing my mother's reaction to the news -- surely she was reminded of JFK. And I remember laughing, years later, when I’d read his first words upon entering the emergency room after nearly being assassinated were, “I hope you’re all Republicans.”

Not bad for a guy 2 months into the job with a bullet lodged near his heart.

I remember laughing during his debate with Mondale, where he promised with a wink, not to “exploit for political purposes, my opponent’s youth and inexperience.” And I wasn't alone, obviously.  He later was re-elected with a record 525 electoral votes, winning every state but Mondale's homestate of Minnesota (and DC). A landslide victory by any count, not plagued by W's hanging chads or ridiculous questions of Obama's US citizenship.

I still can’t read the speech he gave after the Challenger exploded without choking up when they “slip the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God.” Peggy Noonan, you wreck me.

You are dead inside (or maybe a Communist) if you didn’t swell with American pride when he stood in West Berlin insisting, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” Whether you believe it was political strategy and defense missiles or Levis and rock and roll that brought about the collapse of the Soviet Union, we were all saved from the biggest threat of the latter half of the 20th century: nuclear extinction. And it happened without the US firing a single shot.

Freedom is that powerful.

But I remember feeling confused in the wake of Iran-Contra. When asked why he denied trading arms for hostages, he somberly testified, “My heart and my best intentions still tell me that’s true, but the facts and the evidence tell me it is not.” It’s sad to see a President in that position -- whether it was Nixon with Watergate or Clinton and the definition of “is.” These moments remind you that the President is human.

When he stepped out of the spotlight, officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, on the “journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life,” I was reminded of the devastating effect the disease had on my own family. Ever the optimist, even then he believed, “for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead.”

Ten years later as he left the “shining city on a hill,” I felt like we lost a connection to a simpler time. Even though looking back, I'm not sure how I feel about the politics of it all.

He once said you could tell a lot about a person’s character by how they ate jelly beans. His favorite was licorice. So, in honor of the '80s, I’ll be at my brother's house tonight watching Super Bowl XLV in my Phil Simms shirt while popping Jelly Bellies (except for the popcorn-flavored ones – they’re gross).


tags: politics, pop culture

The Land of Make Believe

Let me get this straight: I’m now a tasty crab instead of King of the Jungle?

What’s next? Am I adopted too?

I don’t even know the characteristics of Cancer, because I’m too self-absorbed to find out (a classic Leo trait).

I refuse to let myself get worked up about this new zodiac sign, Ophiuchus. As far as I’m concerned, it does not exist. The gods have NOT spoken. Especially since nobody knows how to pronounce this new word.

The reasons to ignore the existence of the mysterious 13th sign are obvious.

First off, the guy who dropped this astronomical bomb last week, is named Kunkle. That just seems made up to me. Parke Kunkle can pry a Leo horoscope reading from my cold, dead hand (being dramatic is Leo's domain too). Second, someone needs to fire the astrological naming committee because this new sign sounds like a disease -- “Oh, he’s got the Ophiuchus again, don’t let him use your Chapstick.” Third, this is not new news. Apparently, this sign has ALWAYS been jammed in there, if you followed Eastern astrology.

But we don’t.

Now, if you told me the almighty Oprah, an Aquarius, has grown so awesomely powerful that she’s created her own zodiac sign, I would believe that more. But back in reality, we’ve got 12 months, and 12 signs. Period. I was a Leo yesterday, I am a Leo today, and I will be a Leo tomorrow (loyalty, incidentally, is right in Leo's wheelhouse).

It reminds me of a few years back when they announced Pluto wasn’t a planet anymore. Sorry. You can’t just demote a planet. Didn’t they know the saying? My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us Nine… nothings? Um, nooo… it’s Nine Pizzas! You know it, I know it, and every 9th grader in Earth Science knows it too.

I wish people would realize that there’s a difference between an invention/discovery and flat-out make believe.

For example, if someone made a bag of chips with a flat bottom that could also double as a bowl for easy snacking? Now, THAT would be an invention, and a damn good one (if you're listening, Frito Lay, please ditch the noisy Sun Chips bag for this gem).

But changing well-established facts? That’s just a waste of time.

And while we’re on the topic, can the fashion industry please chill out too?

Skinny jeans are a known entity.  They are pants made of denim that are tight-fitting. But jeggings are the wannabes of the pants family.  They are jeans with tons of stretchy lycra baked in so people, like me, who are too fat for skinny jeans can still squeeze into the party. And Pajama Jeans are not jeans at all -- they are jean-colored sweatpants and a total abomination.

Let’s also agree that ankle boots are simply shoes that cover your whole foot and ankle. They are not called "shooties," a cutesy name derived from combining shoes and booties. Or "bootines" (I don't think anyone knows what two words were combined for this one). And don't get me started on the Snuggie, which is nothing but a flimsy backwards robe.

In general, let’s quit making shit up.

But don’t let me be the boss of you (like the Leo that I am). Do you disagree? Or see anything missing? Add it below!


tags: pop culture, shopping

Fun & Games

Did you know 1/11/11 was the 40th anniversary of the card game Uno?

No? Me neither.

But if I’m to believe a couple of guys dressed up as a Wild Card and a Blue #4 who were standing outside Grand Central this morning, it’s true.

Who said one is the loneliest number? I love this game!

I have the BEST childhood memories of playing Uno with my little brother and our grandma. I can remember spending summers at her house in Jersey, sitting in the dining room with its giant wooden chairs.

She was Italian, so every game began with a meal to keep up our strength.  She would buy Entenmann’s lemon pie for me and blueberry crumb for my brother. We’d eat a big ol’ hunk, then we’d break out the cards and play Uno for hours in tournaments that lasted until school started in the fall.

Skip! Reverse! Draw 4! SUCH fun.

Now before you get all, “Awwww,” on me, you should probably know one thing: I cheated my ass off.

(don’t worry, it has since grown back with a vengeance)

You should also know I'm not a dishonest person.  I didn’t initially set out to cheat. In fact, up until my brother was about 5 or 6 years old, I used to just naturally win every single game we played, given our 5 year age difference. But something awful happened when he started the 2nd grade. He got smarter!

So, I turned to a life of crime…

He'd ask all wide-eyed and innocent, “Wanna play Monopoly, Jenny?” Well, sure! And while he turned his back to see what hijinks Gobo was up to down in Fraggle Rock, I’d swap little green houses for big red hotels. And my $50 bills magically became $500s before he could say, “Do not pass Go.”

“Feeling like Scrabble?” Oh yeah! I think I even convinced him that we were supposed to pick eachother’s letters. He never questioned it, even with round after round of letters like XPQZKJY.

“How about a game of Life?” Ab-so-lutely! My little pink and blue peg people multiplied quicker than a wet Gremlin, just so I could collect more cash presents.

“Anyone for Battleship?” This was too EASY! Maybe we played it wrong, but we could never see eachother’s boards, so if F8 was called, suddenly my submarine just scooted across the ocean. Nobody’s sinking MY battleship!

But Uno? Ah, that one really made me flex my phony muscles. It was the ultimate cheating challenge. No board.  No tiny pieces to manipulate.  No paper money to steal.  The real key with Uno was that I always volunteered to shuffle.

Never trust the shuffler.

As the cards made shuffling sounds, I’d quickly slide the good ones onto my lap with my pinky and then pepper them back into the deck so they would come up every 3rd card.  When I dealt, starting on my left, I'd be flush with picture cards and they'd have nothing but numbers. I was like a budding Penn & Teller with my sleight of hand.

Keep in mind, I was like, 12 at the time. But the fun and games came to a SCREECHING halt one day when we were playing Life and my brother caught me with my hand in the money pot. Hoo boy. That was not my finest hour. 

But I think it was a growing experience for us both. He came to realize he could kick my cheating ass, in more ways than one (or uno, if you prefer). And I came to realize that nobody likes a cheater.

Lesson learned!

I don’t cheat at games anymore.  Mainly because they all watch me like a hawk.  I'm pretty positive that the minute my brother reads this blog post, he's going to fire off an email to me (he maaay still be a little bitter). But I do hope he will also remember the fun times we had as kids playing games like Uno.

I can't wait to eat pie and play games with his kids too. And I promise NOT to teach them how to play "Aunt Jenny Style."

What was YOUR favorite game to play (or to cheat)?  Confess below...


tags: family, jersey, pop culture

Dear Steve Jobs,

There’s a lot going on in the world these days. 100,000 fish just dropped dead in Arkansas. Australia is under water. Snowmageddon paralyzed the whole eastern seaboard last week. Brad Womack is back as the Bachelor.

But I’m laser-focused on one thing: Verizon getting the iPhone.

I check the news daily and I read discussion boards I don’t really even understand, desperately searching for kernels of information, rumors, whispers, and other assorted propaganda. I’ve asked sweet baby Jesus. I’ve asked Santa Claus. And now I’m asking you…

When are you releasing a Verzon iPhone?

I know you handed over the iPad. It's not enough. I need the phone. Just give me a date! We all know it’s coming! But WHEN?? I can’t wait much longer.

Do you SEE the ridiculous junk I’m still carrying in the hopes that my dream phone is right around the corner? It might as well be a tin can and a string.

I bought my Motorola Razr like 6 YEARS ago because I saw it on Entourage and thought it was cool. Even Johnny Drama has moved on by now! And don’t even get me started on my iPod. It belongs in a museum at this point. Plus the battery dies whenever it’s cold outside.

Like now.


It’s not right to make me suffer this way!

Verizon telemarketers don’t even bother to call me anymore to upgrade. Even THEY think I am a lost cause and they have horribly low standards. I see their flashy commercials, but I am not tempted. Incredible?  Ha!  I say Droid Schmoid. I’m holding out for the iPhone. And only YOU can make that happen.

I long for the day that I can download useless apps. I vow to cherish every swipe of my shiny new iTunes library. And I will honor my awesome video chat capabilities by putting on lip gloss before every single call I make.  That's a promise.

I will, in fact, marry my Verizon iPhone.

You know, the Consumer Electronics Expo starts on Thursday. Might that be a convenient time for you to steal the spotlight with this exciting news? I hear Verizon’s CEO is a keynote speaker. I’m sure he’d share the mic with you. Maybe give him a call. From your iPhone.

Otherwise, I think your birthday is coming up. Please, please, please take pity and give yourself the gift of ME. And roughly 90MM other Verizon Wireless customers.

But mostly, me.

iThank you for your time,
Your #1 Verizon iPhone Fan

 
tags: pop culture, shopping

But Wait... There's More

As I was saying before I was distracted by public urination, when I was in Florida I watched a good amount of late night infomercials. It seems EVERY 80s supermodel has been busy in the lab formulating their own face creams and/or exercise equipment and/or hair products. And every popstar is plagued with acne.

But you cannot avoid the omni-present Snuggie.

I couldn’t help but notice this blanket cult is now singlehandedly trying to resurrect the Macarena. I hated that song when I was in Mexico on spring break in 1995, and I don’t like it any better now with the words changed up. Heeey get a Snuggie!

Get out of my head.

In their quest for world domination, they will not rest until we are all roaming the earth in these flimsy backwards robes. Do yourself a favor and look away when the commercial comes on, or you too will be sucked into their vortex. Heeeeeeeey get a Snuggie!

You never know what brilliant discovery you’ll find on TV. Recall the time I bought a ham at 2am? In the cavernous void left by bearded Billy Mays, several new pitchmen have arisen and joined the mission to separate me from my hard-earned dollars.

Damn them and their persuasiveness!

Here are my current television temptations:

TV Hat: How do I not own this? Let me thank the guy (and yes, I said guy -- one glance and you know this goofy facemask was NOT designed by a woman) who Gorilla-glued a plastic pouch to the brim of a rather large hat so I could slip my “digital MP3 player” in and feel like I’m inside my own hands-free personal theater. The “privacy shade” does makes your face look like it’s stuck in a shoebox, so it’s not for the claustrophobic. But they must be popular because they are all sold out of the color “Camo.” I guess I won’t be blending in with the wildlife while I watch Gossip Girl in the woods. Let’s just hope it gets better reception than my radio underpants.

Heel Tastic: In watching this one, I learned that some people actually need to groom their feet with a belt-sander. That’s rough! Now, my feet are not so crusty and jagged that they pop balloons or tear holes through nylons, but I’m fascinated by this soothing roll-on balm. They attribute the baby-softness to “natural Neem and Karanja oils.” A quick googling tells me Neem is a vegetable oil that smells strongly of peanuts and garlic. So, really, who’s to say if your feet are smooth or rough? They will stink so no one will want to go near them. Because feet are gross. Evil genius.

Blo & Go: How did they know I’ve been struggling with my blow-dryer? My arms get SO tired. I often think, my hair would look amazing if only I had another set of hands. OR a wall-mounted suction cup from which to hang my dryer! That would be like getting a salon-quality blowout right in my own bathroom. Well, my prayers have been answered. And no worries about it crashing to the floor from the sheer force of the blow, because this gadget comes with a sleek black bungee cord to keep that sucker sturdy. They’ve literally thought of everything. I’m going to look awesome.

Pasta Boat: I remember making lasagna once and shouting an f-bomb for every slimy noodle I fished out of a boiling pot of water. True story.  They were so freaking hot. Now, if I’d only had one of these babies, I could have microwaved, drained and served dinner in minutes AND not have frightened the neighbors! Chubby Cathy Mitchell makes it look so easy. Who needs my Italian mom’s recipes? Can you say free full-color recipe booklet? Plus, if I order now, she’ll cut the price in half. Kathy’s good like that. But wait… there’s more! She’ll DOUBLE my order AND throw in a bonus food chopper. It’s an offer I simply cannot refuse.


Even when I’m not sleep-deprived, I think it would be fun to own the 4 products above. But you totally have my permission to steal my wallet, drop it in a bucket of water, and stick it in the deep-freeze it if ever order the Chillow, Spray-on Nylons, or the Butler Toilet.

Friends don't let friends buy random useless crap alone.  Have YOU ever ordered anything you saw on TV?


tags: commercials, pop culture, shopping

Must Tape TV

HUGE thanks to the 50 people who answered the last poll. The topic you’re most interested in is relationships, but since I’m fresh out of those, I decided to write about entertainment today. That should please at least 42% of you… enjoy!

Some people say they don’t watch much TV.

“Who, me? TV? Nooooo.”

These same people say they are too busy listening to Fresh Air on NPR (“Terry Gross's interview style is so… engrossing.”). Or making their way through Modern Library’s top 100 classic novels (“The political structure of Orwell’s Animal Farm is parallel to that of Plato’s Republic.”). Or whittling birdhouses out of sustainable materials like bamboo (“Bamboo is actually the largest member of the grass family!”).  SOME people even claim they don't OWN a TV.

Blasphemers!

I believe these people are lying, if for no other reason than that’s the BEAUTY of TV -- there’s something for everyone! Even public radio-listening, pretentious literary criticism-quoting, whittlers.

Now, I’m not ashamed to publicly embrace my first love: TV. I even love the commercials. My DVR is smoking right now (figuratively, of course, I leave the actual fires to the neighborhood coffee shops). That little silver box is a hub of recording activity, rivaled only by 24-hour surveillance cameras at the mall.

THIS is the most wonderful time of the year!

Old shows are back, new shows are starting, and I just got a cozy throw which I have named, Fozzie Bear, so I can snuggle up on the couch and watch them all. I only have 1 TV, but I may need a 2nd DVR. Seriously. I’m double booked every night from 8-11pm -- and then some.

So here’s how I’ll be spending my nights... and don't be jealous, you can use this as a guide to set your DVR too. 

You're welcome.

MONDAY
Reality: Dancing With the Stars (ABC, 8pm)
Comedy: How I Met Your Mother (CBS, 8pm)
Drama: Gossip Girl (CW, 9pm)
Drama: Weeds (SHO, 11pm)

TUESDAY
Comedy: Party Down (STARZ re-broadcast, 12am)
Reality: Dancing With the Stars (ABC, 8pm)
Comedy: Glee (FOX, 8pm)
Drama: Life Unexpected (CW, 9pm)
New Comedy: Running Wilde (FOX, 9:30pm)
Drama: Parenthood (NBC, 10pm)

WEDNESDAY
New Reality: Chopped Champions (FOOD re-broadcast, 1am)
Reality: Hell’s Kitchen (FOX, 8pm)
Reality: Survivor (CBS, 8pm)
Reality: Man vs Food (TRAVEL, 9pm)
New Reality: 24 Hour Restaurant Battle (FOOD, 10pm)
New Reality: Top Chef Just Desserts (BRAVO, 10pm)

THURSDAY
New Drama: My Generation (ABC, 8pm)
Comedy: *for when My Generation gets cancelled* Community & 30 Rock (NBC 8pm & 8:30pm)
Drama: The Vampire Diaries (CW, 8pm)
Reality: Project Runway (LIFE, 9pm)
Comedy: The Office (NBC, 9pm)
New Comedy: Outsourced (NBC, 9:30pm)
Reality: The Apprentice (NBC, 10pm)
Reality: Jersey Shore (MTV, 11pm)
New Reality: Real Housewives of DC (BRAVO, 11:30pm)

FRIDAY
Comedy: Modern Family (ABC re-broadcast, 8pm)
New Drama: Blue Bloods (CBS, 10pm)
Talk: The Soup (E!, 10pm)
New Talk: Fashion Police (E!, 10:30pm)

SATURDAY
New Drama: Hawaii Five-O (CBS re-broadcast, 8pm)
Talk: The Dish (STYLE, 10pm)

SUNDAY
Reality: Jerseylicious (STYLE, 8pm)
Reality: The Amazing Race (CBS, 8pm)
Drama: Desperate Housewives (ABC, 9pm)
Drama: Mad Men (AMC, 10pm)
Reality: *for when Mad Men's season is over* Undercover Boss (CBS, 10pm)
Drama: Brothers & Sisters (ABC, 10pm)
New Reality: Cupcake Wars (FOOD, 11pm)
Comedy: Bored to Death (HBO on Demand)
New Drama: Boardwalk Empire (HBO on Demand)


Could I possibly watch another show? Tell me what I’m missing below and if my head (or DVR) doesn’t explode, I’ll totally check it out.


tags: entertainment, pop culture

Would You Like a Defibrillator With That?

Look, I like junk food just as much as the next guy.

Maybe more.

But I’m noticing this disturbing trend right now of extreme junk food. And I don’t mean the disgusting crap that Andrew Zimmern swallows whole (like BBQ’ed raccoon). Or even the mass amounts of food that adorable linebacker Adam Richman shoves down his pie-hole (like an omelet the size of a bath mat).

This isn’t about the gross-out factor, or sheer quantity. It’s more of a mash-up of 2+ foods that eaten alone are pretty bad for you, but eaten together are a crime against cuisine (and your colon).

I suppose the original mash-up is chicken and waffles. Restaurant empires have been built around this concept, and it is good! But lately there’s been a surge of flavor combinations that seem to have been randomly picked out of a hat. While wearing a blindfold. In the dark.

WARNING: Your arteries may clog just reading this.

KFC

Fried Chicken x 2 + Bacon + Cheese + Mystery Sauce - Bread = The Double Down

I’ve got to say, initially I was intrigued. Fried chicken as bread? Sounded genius. Then I saw one in real life as I was shopping for new accessories at the HomeGoods on Post Road in Norwalk, CT, and was quickly cured. It looked like a greasy, oozy mess. And it’s no wonder -- the bread in a sandwich serves a purpose, people! It’s there to sop up all that grease and ooze. You take that out of the equation and you’ve got sandwich chaos on your hands. Literally.

BURGER KING
Cheeseburger x 4 - American ingredients + Italian ingredients = NY Pizza Burger
I have no idea why BK would want to get into the pizza game. But then again, I’ve never understood why Pizza Hut and Domino’s ever started serving up chicken wings or the carbohydrate coma known as “bread bowl pasta.” Either way, The King is smoking crack. Only available in their new Times Square Whopper Bar, this burger gut-buster is made up of 4 Whoppers which are topped with marinara, mozzarella, pepperoni, and a “nutless” pesto-flavored mayo. It is then served on a sesame seed bun the size of a steering wheel, and cut into slices like a pizza. They say it’s meant for sharing. With your enemies.

FRIENDLY'S
Mac & Cheese + More Cheese + Fried Tortilla = Mac & Cheese Quesadilla
This abomination is actually on the KIDS menu, though it might be considered child abuse to let your kid actually eat it. Particularly if you take them up on their offer to mix in bacon and/or Friendly Franks (which, incidentally, contain milk -- so if you’re concerned about keeping Kosher, back away from the hot dog, but if not, go hog wild). Inexplicably, the dish comes with a handful of pickles (which I detest) and ketchup. Why not a side of lard? Oh, because THAT would be gross.

DENNY'S
Grilled Cheese - Bacon & Tomatoes + Mozzarella Sticks = Fried Cheese Sandwich
Hmmm, so let me get this one straight: mozzarella cheese is breaded and fried, then covered in American cheese and bread, and fried again. It’s like mozzie sticks in grilled cheese clothing. It comes with a side of marinara sauce, which not only stays true to the sandwich’s Italian roots, but it also appears to be the healthiest thing on the plate. I’ve never met a cheese I didn’t like, and this is even too much for me.

POP-TARTS
Pop-Tarts x 3 + Fruit Roll Up - Rice, Raw Fish, & Seaweed Wrap = Pop-Tart Sushi
Now I know what you’re thinking... you can’t order Pop-Tarts in a restaurant! This must have come from some wacky cookbook, with recipes for Twinkie Tacos, or Cheetos Meatloaf, or SPAM Fingers. Nope! Pop-Tarts World is an actual place that just opened across the street from our office in Times Square, and they are serving up sweet, sweet delicacies like Pop-Tart sushi. I do love a good Pop-Tart, but I like them au natural. In fact, I’ve never even toasted one. So maybe I’ve just been eating Tarts all this time (hold the Pop). I dunno. But to me, Pop-Tarts sushi seems like a culinary horizon better left unexplored (much like SPAM and ANYTHING).

DAIRY QUEEN
Chocolate Ice Cream - 1 Heath Bar + 1 lb. Crumbled Bacon = The Bacon Blizzard
Alright, I made this last one up -- I dream of being tempted by a bacon smoothie. But you believed me for a second, right? Don’t be surprised if you see a commercial where little pieces of pork fall slow motion-style into a swirling cup of frosty ice cream, that gets drizzled in maple syrup and chopped nuts as you watch those faceless red lips suck it down! And if they do, DQ can send the royalties to my new digs. Or they can just pay me in Bacon Blizzards. Either way. I’m easy.


Would YOU try any of these fast food mash-ups? Tell me why (or why not) below.

tags: food, gross, pop culture

M&M (&M&M&M&M&M)

I knew this week was going to be tough, with my birthday on Aug 3rd and my fake wedding day on Aug 7th (even though we never set an official date, we were getting married on the 7th according to our wedding gift registries).

But I’m TIRED of feeling awful. You know what makes me feel better?

Chocolate. And potato chips. And aerosol cheese eaten directly from the can. Kidding about that last one. I put it on a cracker first.

Anyway, I’ve been wanting to try pretzel M&Ms. I mean, I like salty-sweet just as much as the next guy! But I felt I needed to try this new combo in the context of some tried and true flavors. So I gathered 7 packages of M&Ms, and 2 of my favorite people, to put the candies that melt in your mouth (not in your hands) to the test.

In the tradition of my hard-hitting culinary investigative journalism on the subject of Giant Cheetos, I submit to you…

The Great M&M Taste-Off of 2010.

To follow along with the row of M&Ms in the picture, begin with the stinker on the right and work your way left. Oh, and the big brown blob below the row of M&Ms is a Junior Mint (we needed a palette cleanser).

#7: Coconut (white)
Nobody expected to like this one. And… no one did. While it “came in fun colors,” unfortunately, “it’s just not good.” The flavor is pretty “mild,” and it doesn’t have the texture you’d expect from something coconutty, so it feels a “bit like paste” in your mouth. It’s the only bag that went directly into the trash, with a definitive “there’s not a chance I would eat that.”

#6: Almond (orange)
This one was a disappointment (much like the over-hyped mega-M&M that came in sophisticated colors like beige -- like the world is clamoring for more BEIGE candies). Its “nutless taste” was surprising, given the size of the nut inside. Maybe it “needed salt?” Any way you bite it, it was “boring” and “not worth the extra fat.”

#5: Plain (red)
This was the most surprising. The one that started it all was “sweeter than I remember” and the “crunch was more satisfying than the taste.” The milk chocolate “isn’t rich, which is why you can eat a whole bag,” but the sweetness was “gross after a while.”

#4: Dark Chocolate (brown)
With this one, it’s important to note that nobody in the room thought they liked dark chocolate. And I’m guessing in the authentic flavor department, these are to actual dark chocolate, what Taco Bell is to Mexican food. But nevertheless, “once the taste got going, it’s not bad.” And everybody agreed, “I’d eat it before coconut.”

#3: Pretzel (red)
The reason for the taste test did not disappoint… most of us. Cries of “oooh” and “I’ll have another!” were tempered by its dismissal as a “novelty.” The perfectly round shape makes them "fun to shoot across the table." All of us were curious, “what does it look like inside?” and I wondered, “why no yellow?”

#2: Peanut Butter (blue)
A crowd-pleaser, this “cousin to Reese’s Pieces” had a “strong peanut butter taste” and was “very creamy.” We felt that while you “don’t really taste the chocolate, it’s ok.”

#1: Peanut (green)
What can you say about this guy that hasn’t already been said? You can’t deny this “lumpy classic” is “satisfying.” Its “filling, peanutty taste” is what kept us going back for "more, please!"


And there you have it. The Peanut M&M reigns supreme. For now.

After all, you never know what the folks at Mars will come up with in an attempt to keep a 70-year-old brand relevant. Remember the limited-edition Strawberried Peanut Butter M&Ms they introduced with the Transformers movie last summer? I never understood the connection (did Optimus Prime have a sweet tooth?), and I couldn’t really figure out if I liked them. Even after eating the whole bag.

Somebody had to.

While we’re on the topic of eating a whole bag, PLEASE BRING THE CRISPY M&M BACK. They were delicious. Maybe I should start a Facebook group to rally people around a Crispy comeback. It worked for Betty White.

So, did we get it right? Weigh in below:

poll by twiigs.com

tags: food, polls, pop culture

I Love Singing Fish

So I was watching The Bachelorette the other night. (Don't judge, its been a rough summer.)

I'm enjoying the fact that sweaty, awkward, insecure Frank took himself out of the competition (good luck with THAT guy, Nicole). I'm realizing I have almost no opinion on Roberto at all, except that he's not repulsive like at least one guy in the Final Two invariably is.

And I'm really hoping Ali DOESN'T choose Chris in the end because he is adorable and I don't want to watch them break up as Jake & Vienna have. And Jillian & Ed. And Jason & Melissa. And DeAnna & Jesse. Matt & Shayne... Brad & Nobody... Andrew & Tessa... Lorenzo & Jennifer... Travis & Sarah... Jen & Nobody... Charlie & Sarah... Byron & Mary... Meredith & Ian... Jesse & Jessica... Bob & Estrella... Andrew & Jen... Aaron & Brooke... and the Bachelor Failed Couple who started it all, Alex Michel & Amanda (remember that creepy bastard? YIKES.)

Anyway, about 15 minutes before Roberto & Chris were put out of their misery by a rose which signifies they will live to date the same girl another day, a Lipton Iced Tea commercial came on. Now, I really can't recall any noteworthy Lipton commercials since David "This Aint No Sippin' Tea" Carradine went all 3 Stooges on some street thugs.

But this is one for the books.

Clearly borrowing their inspiration from McDonalds ode to the Filet-O-Fish, Lipton ups the ante. "Yeah, Golden Artery Cloggers? I'll SEE your catchy jingle and singing bigmouth bass, and I'll RAISE you a chorus of crustaceons and a smiling fish with a lemon wedged in his mouth. Stick THAT in your Big Mac!"

I know commercials make some folks crabby. But I love 'em. And I could watch this one all day. I'm particularly amused by the fact that this parched woman is largely unfazed by the singing fish with the human mouth that's emerged from her purse. What's better, I actually remember what product he's promoting. AND it makes me think I want a cool, refreshing iced tea. With my... chicken.

Reel me in, Lipton. I'm hooked.

I think Madison Ave is finally catching on to what the folks at As Seen On TV have known for years. There's really nothing funnier than a singing fish.

See what I mean below:


Now tell me you didn't love that?!

Where’s a Psychic Octopus When You Need One?

I've traipsed all over this city in the sweltering heat looking for a new place to live. I've found some dumps. I've found some snoozers. And I've found some gorgeous apartments.

But so far, I havent found a home.

If I'm being honest, I suppose there's some part of me that is resistent to moving on -- in part because this will be my 3rd move in 5 months (and yes, it is as mentally, physically, and financially exhausting as you might imagine).  But also because I don't even know what I'm moving on FROM, anymore!  I still can't understand what happened, and now, some eye-opening revelations about him from my own family and friends only underscore the fact that the man I thought I would marry never actually existed. 

But I know the only way I'll ever feel like me again is to move on.  And that begins with new digs.

So I ask you, how am I supposed to cram all this new baggage into your standard NYC shoebox apartment? I already had 100 boxes to begin with (no joke).

I've gotten my choices whittled down to a handful. And since my judgement is total crap these days, I've gotten plenty of opinions, too. But what I'm really after is some advice from someone who has built a reputation on picking winners. So here is my open plea to the animal kindgom:

Paul, you eight-legged oracle, will YOU help me choose an apartment?

(and pipe down Mani, the fortunetelling parakeet -- YOU are a cheap knockoff)

In lieu of a country's flag, I respectfully submit colorful subway artwork to help you identify each choice. You probably already know this, given your abilities, but these are ranked in price order from low to high -- not in preference order (don't even get me started on what you get for the money -- if I stayed in CT I could lease a 3BR 2BA apartment AND a car for what I'll pay for an NYC studio).  Oh, and I don't know how you roll in Germany, but you should also know that the following buildings have the basic necessities: a doorman, elevator, air conditioning, laundry and a dishwasher. 

If I could live without those things, I'd go camping.

And now, I place in your plexiglass box the following 6 apartments in a town I sorta love:

Midtown West/Chelsea
Apartment: 32D alcove studio, 540 sqft
Pros: modern building, great amenities, awesome view
Cons: shady-ish neighborhood, closets in a dumb spot, cheap kitchen

Midtown East/Murray Hill
Apartment: 6M studio, 650 sqft
Pros: I know the owner, easy commute, 5 closets
Cons: pre-war, no renovations, mini kitchen used for heating up takeout & not much else

Midtown West/Hell's Kitchen
Apartment: 7B alcove studio, 575 sqft
Pros: corner unit, stainless/granite kitchen, easiest commute
Cons: tourist central, crap view, creepy Peeping Tom window in shower

Upper West Side/Lincoln Center
Apartment: 6D alcove studio, 500 sqft
Pros: new luxury building, I would be the first tenant, cool amenities, great neighborhood
Cons: soooo small

Upper East Side/Yorkville
Apartment: 30F one bedroom, 675 sqft
Pros: bedroom actually has a door, terrace, awesome view
Cons: pain in the ass commute, neighborhood kinda deadsville

Midtown East/Sutton Place
Apartment: 14C one bedroom, 700 sqft
Pros: bedroom has a door AND can fit a dresser, ample closet space, nice amenities
Cons: soooo expensive


So there you have it.  Paul, what say you? Sprechen sie Englisch? Any tingles in your tentacles?

Send me a psychic mesage. If you help me, I promise never to eat calamari again.