For me, 2011 was the Year of New Technology. As you know, my suffering in the Dark Age mercifully came to an end in February when my glorious iPhone arrived.
But that was just a gateway drug!
Since I don't do anything half-assed, I've gobbled up SIX new internet-connected devices over the course of the past year. Somehow, a Verizon personal iPhone, an AT&T work iPhone, an iPad, a Mac laptop, a PC laptop, and a brand-new flatscreen Sony with GoogleTV have all followed me home. (Even I can't believe it.)
Suddenly, my 550sqft apartment resembles the world's smallest Best Buy. And I'm a dungeon and a dragon away from Nerdsville.
But I'm totally app-sessed.
I download and I upload all the live long day. I'm so in love with "the cloud" that I wish I could keep my shoes in there and free up some closet space. If only my iPad were waterproof, I'd stream movies in the shower. I even hug my new TV every night before I got to bed and I swear it hugs me back.
I've heard there are over half a million apps out there. That's too many -- even for me. So here's my list of apps I love. Some are predictable, but hopefully there are a handful of surprises in the mix.
Oh, and did I mention these are all FREE? So go ahead and tap that app until your fingers hurt...
INSTAGRAM
Best for: transforming your photos
I fell in love when... I realized I looked 10 years younger with a filter
Available on: Apple
FLIXSTER
Best for: choosing which movie to see
I fell in love when... it helped me get out of seeing totally rotten Jack & Jill
Available on: Apple, Android, BlackBerry, Windows
HBO GO (requires an HBO subscription)
Best for: watching every episode of every series they ever created
I fell in love when... I re-watched Flight of the Conchords and remembered my crush on Jemaine
Available on: Apple, Android
NETFLIX (requires a Netflix subscription)
Best for: an all-you-can-eat movie buffet
I fell in love when... I realized their recommendations know me better than I know myself
Available on: Apple, Android, Kindle, Nook, Windows
SHAZAM
Best for: figuring out who sings that song you like
I fell in love when... I had The Moves Like Jagger identified (with lyrics), sent to Pandora, and downloaded to my iPhone in under a minute
Available on: Apple, Android, BlackBerry, Kindle, Windows
FLIPBOARD
Best for: bringing all your news and updates into a living digital magazine
I fell in love when... I saw it made my Facebook newsfeed seem interesting
Available on: Apple
US MAGAZINE
Best for: snippets of celebrity gossip
I fell in love when... I realized I no longer need the magazine (but don't tell them that)
Available on: Apple
CATALOGUE
Best for: fun flipping through catalogues with none of the clutter on your coffee table
I fell in love when... I discovered I could shop right from the page
Available on: Apple
TIME MAGAZINE'S POPULIST
Best for: loads of pop-culture lists
I fell in love when... the Top 10 Worst Spinoffs list contained the awfully amazing Joanie Loves Chachi
Available on: Apple
CHASE BANK (requires a Chase account)
Best for: keeping an eye on your money (or lack thereof)
I fell in love when... I deposited a check using my phone, if it gave me a lollipop it would be pure magic
Available on: Apple, Android, BlackBerry, Kindle
PINTEREST
Best for: stealing ideas on what to cook, wear, make, buy, or visit
I fell in love when... I was able to pin iPhone photos of my own craftiness so I too could be popular with complete strangers
Available on: Apple
GATEGURU
Best for: learning about all the shops and eats in any airport
I fell in love when... it helped me locate a Chase ATM in Terminal 5 at JFK -- no fees, baby!
Available on: Apple, Android, Kindle
GOOGLE
Best for: finding whatever you're looking for
I fell in love when... Google Goggles translated a Chinese takeout menu.
Available on: Apple, Android, Windows
EAT STREET
Best for: finding delicious food trucks in your neighborhood
I fell in love when... it introduced me to the Big Gay Ice Cream truck and its Bea Arthur cone
Available on: Apple
FOODSPOTTING
Best for: ordering the best-looking dishes at local restaurants
I fell in love when... I hiked uptown to a stop on the Ultimate Trail of Nachos (at Southern Hospitality) and they looked just like the pic
Available on: Apple, Android, Kindle, Windows
EPICURIOUS (full disclosure -- I work on this brand)
Best for: getting recipes and shopping lists on the go
I fell in love when... I saw there are 774 recipes that include bacon
Available on: Apple, Android, Kindle, Nook, Windows
SLIDESHARK
Best for: viewing powerpoint presentations
I fell in love when... it made me look smarter than the tech guy sitting next to me who couldn't get the projector to work
Available on: Apple
EVERNOTE
Best for: keeping all the things you want to remember in one place
I fell in love when... I started using this to keep ideas for my blog instead of scribbling on paper napkins
Available on: Apple, Android, BlackBerry, Kindle, Nook, Windows
PERIOD TRACKER
Best for: (boys cover your eyes) knowing when Cousin Red comes a-knocking
I fell in love when... it was right (not that it matters)
Available on: Apple
Card Shark
Best for: feeling cool when playing sad, lonely solitaire
I fell in love when... my winning streak wasn't interrupted by annoying ads
Available on: Apple
So there you have it. And hey, can you believe I got through this entire post without saying "there's an app for that?"
Oh.
Anyhoo, share YOUR must-have apps below...
tags: entertainment, technology
1/19/2012
1/10/2012
This Year, I Will
New Year's resolutions are for the birds. Lose weight. Stop watching so much TV. Give up smoking. Quit drinking. No more gambling. Avoid spending money on things you can't afford.
Yawn.
The reason why resolutions don't work is because the premise is off. Think of something you enjoy (especially if it's bad for you), then vow to stop doing it. Forever. And when you fail to stay away from said vice, feel guilty. Then, repeat it all again next year as if there could possibly be a different outcome.
Blech.
I've decided 2012 is the year to make a list of the things I WILL do. And I will not feel the least bit bad if I don't.
Try these on for size...
This year, I will... start a cult.
I really think this is a cultural void right now. There aren't enough good cults out there (unless you count the Tea Party or people who enjoy the Kardashians). I'm not quite sure what our rallying cry will be yet, but I'd like to call my new cult The PBNJ, which sounds ominous but obviously stands for Pine Brook, New Jersey. It could be mistaken for Peanut Butter & Jelly, but I'm ok with it because THAT is a delicious sandwich who's power cannot be overestimated. Anyone with me?
This year, I will... write a made-for-TV movie.
Have I ever written a screenplay? Uh, that's a no. But I did write a novel that's collecting dust. And rumor has it I write this blog! AND I've seen approximately 9,728 awful movies on Lifetime, Oxygen, WE, and Hallmark that I (or anyone with a pen and a dream) could have written. That's got to count for something. Regardless of the actual plot or characters (here's one idea), it would be required that Mark Paul Gosselaar be cast in a leading role, which might also fulfill my childhood dream of dating Zach Morris. Win win.
This year, I will... learn to make pizza from scratch.
This one's just plain practical. About 3 billion (yes, BILLION) pizzas are sold in the US each year, according to some unsubstantiated fact I randomly pulled off the Internet. Pizza dough is just water, flour, and yeast -- think of all the money I'd save making my own. Plus, I have unlimited access to the universal #1 secret pizza-making ingredient: NYC tap water. When I've gotten really good at it, I could open my own pizza truck and tour the tri-state area serving delicious, homemade heart-shaped pizzas. Who wouldn't love that?
This year, I will... invent a word.
There's always room in the universe for a new word, right? And I'm not talking stupid shit like "amazeballs," "awesomesauce," "bromance," or "woot" (incidentally, just added to the Oxford English Dictionary as a word used to describe enthusiasm in online communication). Those words get caught in my throat. I'm confident I can do better.
This year, I will... sleep like a baby on a Sobakawa Cloud Pillow.
You know I'm a sucker for infomercials (no, really, I am). I'm a good sleeper, but I feel I could take naptime to a whole new level. This thing is filled with 10 MILLION air beads. Now, I don't claim to know what an air bead is, but they sound fantastic. Maybe they could invent the Sobakawa couch cushions too, because if air beads feel good under your 10lb head, imagine how they'd feel under your 100lb ass. Or maybe that's just me. Either way, send 2.
So, do YOU think I can accomplish anything on this list? Should I start smoking, drinking, and gambling so I can vow to give them all up next year? Have any irrelevant resolutions of your own? Add them below!
tags: holidays
Yawn.
The reason why resolutions don't work is because the premise is off. Think of something you enjoy (especially if it's bad for you), then vow to stop doing it. Forever. And when you fail to stay away from said vice, feel guilty. Then, repeat it all again next year as if there could possibly be a different outcome.
Blech.
I've decided 2012 is the year to make a list of the things I WILL do. And I will not feel the least bit bad if I don't.
Try these on for size...
This year, I will... start a cult.
I really think this is a cultural void right now. There aren't enough good cults out there (unless you count the Tea Party or people who enjoy the Kardashians). I'm not quite sure what our rallying cry will be yet, but I'd like to call my new cult The PBNJ, which sounds ominous but obviously stands for Pine Brook, New Jersey. It could be mistaken for Peanut Butter & Jelly, but I'm ok with it because THAT is a delicious sandwich who's power cannot be overestimated. Anyone with me?
This year, I will... write a made-for-TV movie.
Have I ever written a screenplay? Uh, that's a no. But I did write a novel that's collecting dust. And rumor has it I write this blog! AND I've seen approximately 9,728 awful movies on Lifetime, Oxygen, WE, and Hallmark that I (or anyone with a pen and a dream) could have written. That's got to count for something. Regardless of the actual plot or characters (here's one idea), it would be required that Mark Paul Gosselaar be cast in a leading role, which might also fulfill my childhood dream of dating Zach Morris. Win win.
This year, I will... learn to make pizza from scratch.
This one's just plain practical. About 3 billion (yes, BILLION) pizzas are sold in the US each year, according to some unsubstantiated fact I randomly pulled off the Internet. Pizza dough is just water, flour, and yeast -- think of all the money I'd save making my own. Plus, I have unlimited access to the universal #1 secret pizza-making ingredient: NYC tap water. When I've gotten really good at it, I could open my own pizza truck and tour the tri-state area serving delicious, homemade heart-shaped pizzas. Who wouldn't love that?
This year, I will... invent a word.
There's always room in the universe for a new word, right? And I'm not talking stupid shit like "amazeballs," "awesomesauce," "bromance," or "woot" (incidentally, just added to the Oxford English Dictionary as a word used to describe enthusiasm in online communication). Those words get caught in my throat. I'm confident I can do better.
This year, I will... sleep like a baby on a Sobakawa Cloud Pillow.
You know I'm a sucker for infomercials (no, really, I am). I'm a good sleeper, but I feel I could take naptime to a whole new level. This thing is filled with 10 MILLION air beads. Now, I don't claim to know what an air bead is, but they sound fantastic. Maybe they could invent the Sobakawa couch cushions too, because if air beads feel good under your 10lb head, imagine how they'd feel under your 100lb ass. Or maybe that's just me. Either way, send 2.
So, do YOU think I can accomplish anything on this list? Should I start smoking, drinking, and gambling so I can vow to give them all up next year? Have any irrelevant resolutions of your own? Add them below!
tags: holidays
12/24/2011
Cookies for Santa
I was out shopping one day and I saw an electric cookie press for the bargain price of $27.99.
Obviously, I bought it.
I mean, it's totally normal for a single gal in the city who lives in a glorified shoebox to have a food processor, toaster, stand mixer, crock pot, reversible griddle/grill pan, gigantic cast iron pot, blender, knife block, and single-shot coffee maker jammed on a mere 2 square feet of counter space. Right? Nevermind I don't even drink coffee. (I don't drink wine either, and I have about half a dozen bottles of THAT laying around too.)
Anyway, I couldn't resist the cookie press. And yes, I know I'll probably only use it once a year. I don't care. The other 364 days it can live in the cupboard above the fridge -- right next to my ice cream maker and fondue pot. So next time it's Christmas, summer, or the 1970s, I'll be prepared.
Hi, my name is Jen and I'm an appliance-aholic.
So I'm down in Del Boca Vista enjoying semi-retirement for the holidays, and my mom and I made a treat today using my trusty new electric cookie press. I remember she had one when we were kids and we made cream cheese spritz cookies every Christmas. Both the press and the recipe are long gone, but thanks to a little Googling, Santa's eating good tonight!
Here's what we'll be leaving out for the big guy:
CREAM CHEESE SPRITZ COOKIES
TIME: About 10 mins prep, 12-15 mins in the oven, and a lifetime on the hips
SERVES: 4 dozen(ish)
Oh, one more thing!
Here is a sign that your cookies are overcooked: They are black.
These are the last batch that I forgot about in the oven. After 45 minutes, they probably should have disintegrated into tiny heaps of ash if it wasn't for all that butter.
I'm not much of a baker (clearly), but these are super easy and they tasted just like I remembered. They're sure to push you to the top of the Nice list if you serve them warm with a glass of ice-cold milk. And don't forget carrots for Rudolph or else he will poop on your lawn.
Ho, ho, ho!
tags: food, holidays
Obviously, I bought it.
I mean, it's totally normal for a single gal in the city who lives in a glorified shoebox to have a food processor, toaster, stand mixer, crock pot, reversible griddle/grill pan, gigantic cast iron pot, blender, knife block, and single-shot coffee maker jammed on a mere 2 square feet of counter space. Right? Nevermind I don't even drink coffee. (I don't drink wine either, and I have about half a dozen bottles of THAT laying around too.)
Anyway, I couldn't resist the cookie press. And yes, I know I'll probably only use it once a year. I don't care. The other 364 days it can live in the cupboard above the fridge -- right next to my ice cream maker and fondue pot. So next time it's Christmas, summer, or the 1970s, I'll be prepared.
Hi, my name is Jen and I'm an appliance-aholic.
So I'm down in Del Boca Vista enjoying semi-retirement for the holidays, and my mom and I made a treat today using my trusty new electric cookie press. I remember she had one when we were kids and we made cream cheese spritz cookies every Christmas. Both the press and the recipe are long gone, but thanks to a little Googling, Santa's eating good tonight!
Here's what we'll be leaving out for the big guy:
CREAM CHEESE SPRITZ COOKIES
TIME: About 10 mins prep, 12-15 mins in the oven, and a lifetime on the hips
SERVES: 4 dozen(ish)
INGREDIENTS:
- 2 sticks of butter (just go with it)
- Half a brick of cream cheese -- about 4 oz
- 1 egg yolk
- 1 cup of sugar
- 2.5 cups of flour
- 1 tsp of vanilla extract
- 1 tsp of lemon extract
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Get out the hand mixer and combine the room-temperature butter and cream cheese on medium speed -- enough as to mix it, not so much as to wear it.
- Add in the sugar and mix some more.
- Plop in the egg yolk, and the 2 extracts. Keep on mixing.
- Gradually add the flour. Or if you're impatient like me, just dump it in -- it will all blend together. Eventually.
- When everything is combined, you'll have a sticky dough. If you think trees taste better when they are green or poinsettias taste better red, now would be the time to also add some food coloring.
- Next, lay down a sheet of waxed paper and dump the dough in the center. Use the paper as a buffer to help you form it into a log without it caking all over your fingers.
- Choose your design and load up your cookie press with dough.
- Spritz directly onto the cookie sheet, one at a time. You don't have to leave much room inbetween the cookies -- they don't spread all that much.
- This is important: Resist all temptation to use cooking spray, parchment paper, or a Silpat liner. The dough won't stick to anything but the pan. Don't ask me why.
- Bake for 12-15 minutes. But keep an eye on them. They'll start to get brown on the bottom, but still look kind of pale on top. That's ok.
- Eat them.
Oh, one more thing!
Here is a sign that your cookies are overcooked: They are black.
These are the last batch that I forgot about in the oven. After 45 minutes, they probably should have disintegrated into tiny heaps of ash if it wasn't for all that butter.
I'm not much of a baker (clearly), but these are super easy and they tasted just like I remembered. They're sure to push you to the top of the Nice list if you serve them warm with a glass of ice-cold milk. And don't forget carrots for Rudolph or else he will poop on your lawn.
Ho, ho, ho!
tags: food, holidays
12/20/2011
Stick This in Your Stocking
A few months back on my birthday, I said I'd planned to spend gobs of money on silly things. And spend I did! Mainly at Sephora, my all-time favorite place to shop on my bday because the friendly lady behind the counter (who looks like she's hiding a muffin in her hair) always gives me a present.
I've since made my way through all the products you see here, and there were some clear winners. With Hanukkah upon us and Christmas just days away I thought it might be good to share a few sure-fire last-minute stocking stuffers.
First, full disclosure: Each morning, my beauty regimen consists of showering, brushing my teeth, blow-drying my hair until I start to sweat, and quickly sweeping mascara, lip gloss and blush across my face. That's it.
Not exactly a major undertaking. I realize this gives me zero credibility in the beauty review arena.
But I won't let that stop me.
LIPS
I'm obsessed with lip gloss. I probably apply it 5x per day. There are no less than 7 featured in this picture. If you know someone who is equally interested in maintaining a shiny smile, get them this:
>> NARS Lip Gloss in Belize (for nighttime)
>> Lancome Juicy Tubes in Pure (for daytime)
>> Fresh Sugar Lip Balm (for bedtime)
Do NOT get them this: Crest White Strips.
HAIR
I'm obsessed with smooth hair. I never need to check the weather, all I do is look in the mirror -- humidity is the enemy to every follicle on my thick head. The only hairs that can resist puffing up are the wiry gray ones and I pluck those out so I can maintain my youthful facade. If you know someone who likes smooth, nice-smelling hair too, get them this:
>> Frederic Fekkai Glossing Shampoo & Conditioner
>> Moroccan Oil Hydrating Styling Cream
Do NOT get them this: a haircut
FRAGRANCE
I'm obsessed with finding a perfume I don't hate. You may recall my quest to find a scent. I've finally found something I like. No, LOVE. It's a famous fragrance, but try to forget that and just breathe in the beachy-goodness. If you know someone who isn't ashamed to smell like a celebrity, get them this:
>> Jennifer Aniston (I say this with 100% non-irony. Smell it. Trust me.)
Do NOT get them this: Snooki for Women by Nicole Polizzi
When you think of splurging on someone special, you might be tempted to give a gift certificate to a spa for a mani-pedi or a massage. This would be the WORST possible gift someone could get me. The thought of being kneaded like pizza dough by a judgemental stranger gives me hives.
If your loved one is as neurotic as I am (as if that is even in the realm of possibility), she might enjoy one or all of the products above. No unwanted touching required.
And don't forget to treat yourself! Whoever said it is better to give than to receive was doing it wrong.
Stuff the comments below with YOUR stocking goodies...
tags: beauty, holidays, shopping
I've since made my way through all the products you see here, and there were some clear winners. With Hanukkah upon us and Christmas just days away I thought it might be good to share a few sure-fire last-minute stocking stuffers.
First, full disclosure: Each morning, my beauty regimen consists of showering, brushing my teeth, blow-drying my hair until I start to sweat, and quickly sweeping mascara, lip gloss and blush across my face. That's it.
Not exactly a major undertaking. I realize this gives me zero credibility in the beauty review arena.
But I won't let that stop me.
LIPS
I'm obsessed with lip gloss. I probably apply it 5x per day. There are no less than 7 featured in this picture. If you know someone who is equally interested in maintaining a shiny smile, get them this:
>> NARS Lip Gloss in Belize (for nighttime)
>> Lancome Juicy Tubes in Pure (for daytime)
>> Fresh Sugar Lip Balm (for bedtime)
Do NOT get them this: Crest White Strips.
HAIR
I'm obsessed with smooth hair. I never need to check the weather, all I do is look in the mirror -- humidity is the enemy to every follicle on my thick head. The only hairs that can resist puffing up are the wiry gray ones and I pluck those out so I can maintain my youthful facade. If you know someone who likes smooth, nice-smelling hair too, get them this:
>> Frederic Fekkai Glossing Shampoo & Conditioner
>> Moroccan Oil Hydrating Styling Cream
Do NOT get them this: a haircut
FRAGRANCE
I'm obsessed with finding a perfume I don't hate. You may recall my quest to find a scent. I've finally found something I like. No, LOVE. It's a famous fragrance, but try to forget that and just breathe in the beachy-goodness. If you know someone who isn't ashamed to smell like a celebrity, get them this:
>> Jennifer Aniston (I say this with 100% non-irony. Smell it. Trust me.)
Do NOT get them this: Snooki for Women by Nicole Polizzi
When you think of splurging on someone special, you might be tempted to give a gift certificate to a spa for a mani-pedi or a massage. This would be the WORST possible gift someone could get me. The thought of being kneaded like pizza dough by a judgemental stranger gives me hives.
If your loved one is as neurotic as I am (as if that is even in the realm of possibility), she might enjoy one or all of the products above. No unwanted touching required.
And don't forget to treat yourself! Whoever said it is better to give than to receive was doing it wrong.
Stuff the comments below with YOUR stocking goodies...
tags: beauty, holidays, shopping
12/03/2011
The Office Holiday Party Survival Guide
'Tis the season for office holiday parties.
We had ours the other night. The next day no one talked about the lovely lounge we all went to at 4pm. Or the delicious mini grilled cheese sandwiches that were passed. Or the Irish pub many of us went to after the official merriment was over. Or the generous open bar at the afterparty. Or the karaoke that some did late nite. Or the private singing room that was reserved for the group.
Nope.
All anyone talked -- actually no, whispered -- about the next day was the girl who overindulged. Let's call her Courvoisier. Inappropriate grinding on all male co-workers? On Dancer! Hysterical crying in the ladies room? On Cupid! Heated argument with a cube-mate? On Dasher! So drunk that the bar wouldn't allow her to come in? On Blitzen!
Want to avoid going down in history like this chick? If you're lucky enough to a) still have a job, and b) work for a company that still has holiday parties, read on.
The words "office party" might be the ultimate oxymoron. This is NO time to relax. Your attendance is not really optional. It's a minefield. You must stay vigilant. Here's a survival guide:
Mama's in Her Kerchief, and I'm in My Cap
No Hanukkah hairy chests, no Christmas cleavage, no Kwanzaa belly buttons, and absolutely no Festivus ass cheeks peeking out from under a miniskirt. We're not at the beach -- cover up people! Skimpy clothes are unpredictable. Wear them and you may forever be known as the woman who accidentally flashed a boob at the party.
The Three Words That Best Describe You Are as Follows, and I Quote, "Stink, Stank, Stunk!"
While we're at it, don't load up on cologne or perfume in the spirit of being "festive." Nobody wants to taste Drakkar Noir with their tuna tartare.
He'll Say, "Are You Married?" We'll Say, "No Man!"
If you're not invited with a guest, don't bring one -- even if you're married and everyone at the office knows your spouse. If you're not married, but can bring a guest, make sure it's not an escort. Your +1 could trade up during the night, and that's just embarrassing.
Frosty the Snowman Was a Jolly Happy Soul
So what's your problem? There's no crying in office parties! Similarly, there's no complaining about your job while consuming food and drink on the company's dime. Now is NOT the time to openly wish that the chocolate fountain budget be spent on Post-Its because you've been writing on your arm for the past month. The Grinch was as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel, not you! Pretend you're enjoying yourself.
Said the Shepard Boy to the Mighty King, Do You Know What I Know?
Limit all conversations with acquaintances and supervisors to 5 minutes so you don't accidentally spill the beans that you found your manager's updated resume in the printer, or that the guy in the office next door drops a deuce every morning at 11 like clockwork. Learn to keep a secret.
Hang a Shining Star Upon the Highest Bough
"But enough about me, let's talk about you -- what do YOU think of ME?" Self-centered conversations are boring. Bragging is worse. So if you're telling the mailroom guy who's shoving chicken wings in his pockets (ill-advised, btw) that you're trying to decide between a holiday break in St. Barts or Gstaad, you need to pipe down. Try talking about the weather. Here. And find that guy some Tupperware -- hot sauce stains, ya know!
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Had a Very Shiny Nose
Take your age and divide by 10. That's the max number of drinks you should have over the course of the evening. Plus eat beforehand and drink water in-between (nobody can tell the difference between a selzer with a twist of lime and a vodka tonic). And yes, that means that the 70-year-old office fossil will be toasted like a chestnut by night's end, but he may not make it to next year's party so just make sure he gets home safe. For everyone else, once your nose starts glowing like ol'Rudy's it's time to step away from the bar, Sparkey.
And Laying a Finger Aside of His Nose, Then Giving a Nod Up the Chimney He Rose
Now, take your age and multiply by 0. That's the max number of drugs you should do over the course of the evening. For those not in accounting, this means say no to drugs. (For those IN accounting, you could probably stand to loosen up, so still say no here, but go ahead and have an extra drink.) If you EVER think office party drugs are a good idea, the fluorescent lighting has most certainly fried your brain. Just like that egg. Any questions?
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
Don't Xerox your ass. Don't curse like a sailor. Don't spill your drink on anyone. Don't eat like it's your last meal. Don't double dip. Don't throw up. Don't piss your pants. Don't put your underwear on your head. Don't trip and knock your teeth out. Don't break anything at all. In general, don't show up for work the next day looking like Grandma.
Now the Jingle Hop Has Begun
Save the pole for the professionals. Dancing with co-workers should be a lot like dancing at a Catholic middle school prom. No touching below the shoulders and leave room for the Holy Ghost.
We're Snuggled Up Together Like Two Birds of a Feather Would Be
Mistletoe is like office party kryptonite. You'd be better off caught eating it than kissing under it. And don't forget most offices have security cameras. Suddenly a rendezvous in the stairway seems much less romantic if it's being watched by a guy named Moe (unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case, do yourself a favor and call in sick the day of the party -- you can't be trusted around an open bar).
It Doesn't Show Signs of Stopping
This one's easy. Go home. At a reasonable hour. Alone.
I think you get the idea. Now's NOT the time to make an impression or to have fun. Just fly below the radar and you'll be alright. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Anonymously share YOUR office party faux pas below...
tags: holidays, work
We had ours the other night. The next day no one talked about the lovely lounge we all went to at 4pm. Or the delicious mini grilled cheese sandwiches that were passed. Or the Irish pub many of us went to after the official merriment was over. Or the generous open bar at the afterparty. Or the karaoke that some did late nite. Or the private singing room that was reserved for the group.
Nope.
All anyone talked -- actually no, whispered -- about the next day was the girl who overindulged. Let's call her Courvoisier. Inappropriate grinding on all male co-workers? On Dancer! Hysterical crying in the ladies room? On Cupid! Heated argument with a cube-mate? On Dasher! So drunk that the bar wouldn't allow her to come in? On Blitzen!
Want to avoid going down in history like this chick? If you're lucky enough to a) still have a job, and b) work for a company that still has holiday parties, read on.
The words "office party" might be the ultimate oxymoron. This is NO time to relax. Your attendance is not really optional. It's a minefield. You must stay vigilant. Here's a survival guide:
Mama's in Her Kerchief, and I'm in My Cap
No Hanukkah hairy chests, no Christmas cleavage, no Kwanzaa belly buttons, and absolutely no Festivus ass cheeks peeking out from under a miniskirt. We're not at the beach -- cover up people! Skimpy clothes are unpredictable. Wear them and you may forever be known as the woman who accidentally flashed a boob at the party.
The Three Words That Best Describe You Are as Follows, and I Quote, "Stink, Stank, Stunk!"
While we're at it, don't load up on cologne or perfume in the spirit of being "festive." Nobody wants to taste Drakkar Noir with their tuna tartare.
He'll Say, "Are You Married?" We'll Say, "No Man!"
If you're not invited with a guest, don't bring one -- even if you're married and everyone at the office knows your spouse. If you're not married, but can bring a guest, make sure it's not an escort. Your +1 could trade up during the night, and that's just embarrassing.
Frosty the Snowman Was a Jolly Happy Soul
So what's your problem? There's no crying in office parties! Similarly, there's no complaining about your job while consuming food and drink on the company's dime. Now is NOT the time to openly wish that the chocolate fountain budget be spent on Post-Its because you've been writing on your arm for the past month. The Grinch was as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel, not you! Pretend you're enjoying yourself.
Said the Shepard Boy to the Mighty King, Do You Know What I Know?
Limit all conversations with acquaintances and supervisors to 5 minutes so you don't accidentally spill the beans that you found your manager's updated resume in the printer, or that the guy in the office next door drops a deuce every morning at 11 like clockwork. Learn to keep a secret.
Hang a Shining Star Upon the Highest Bough
"But enough about me, let's talk about you -- what do YOU think of ME?" Self-centered conversations are boring. Bragging is worse. So if you're telling the mailroom guy who's shoving chicken wings in his pockets (ill-advised, btw) that you're trying to decide between a holiday break in St. Barts or Gstaad, you need to pipe down. Try talking about the weather. Here. And find that guy some Tupperware -- hot sauce stains, ya know!
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Had a Very Shiny Nose
Take your age and divide by 10. That's the max number of drinks you should have over the course of the evening. Plus eat beforehand and drink water in-between (nobody can tell the difference between a selzer with a twist of lime and a vodka tonic). And yes, that means that the 70-year-old office fossil will be toasted like a chestnut by night's end, but he may not make it to next year's party so just make sure he gets home safe. For everyone else, once your nose starts glowing like ol'Rudy's it's time to step away from the bar, Sparkey.
And Laying a Finger Aside of His Nose, Then Giving a Nod Up the Chimney He Rose
Now, take your age and multiply by 0. That's the max number of drugs you should do over the course of the evening. For those not in accounting, this means say no to drugs. (For those IN accounting, you could probably stand to loosen up, so still say no here, but go ahead and have an extra drink.) If you EVER think office party drugs are a good idea, the fluorescent lighting has most certainly fried your brain. Just like that egg. Any questions?
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
Don't Xerox your ass. Don't curse like a sailor. Don't spill your drink on anyone. Don't eat like it's your last meal. Don't double dip. Don't throw up. Don't piss your pants. Don't put your underwear on your head. Don't trip and knock your teeth out. Don't break anything at all. In general, don't show up for work the next day looking like Grandma.
Now the Jingle Hop Has Begun
Save the pole for the professionals. Dancing with co-workers should be a lot like dancing at a Catholic middle school prom. No touching below the shoulders and leave room for the Holy Ghost.
We're Snuggled Up Together Like Two Birds of a Feather Would Be
Mistletoe is like office party kryptonite. You'd be better off caught eating it than kissing under it. And don't forget most offices have security cameras. Suddenly a rendezvous in the stairway seems much less romantic if it's being watched by a guy named Moe (unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case, do yourself a favor and call in sick the day of the party -- you can't be trusted around an open bar).
It Doesn't Show Signs of Stopping
This one's easy. Go home. At a reasonable hour. Alone.
I think you get the idea. Now's NOT the time to make an impression or to have fun. Just fly below the radar and you'll be alright. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Anonymously share YOUR office party faux pas below...
tags: holidays, work
11/22/2011
On the Roadi: DC Here We Come
For anyone following the 50 state road trip with my buddy, Jodi, you might have noticed that Washington, DC is located no where near New Mexico -- the original next stop on our tour.
Technically, this is true. I blame Thanksgiving.
Apparently, it's not possible to book an inexpensive trip to New Mexico on the most traveled weekend of the year, with 2 weeks advance notice. Who could possibly know this hidden fact? (Besides me, who worked for Travelocity for 3 years?)
Anyone at all? No?
Anyway, we had to get to DC eventually, so now is as good a time as any. We'll be leaving on Friday -- and you should totally come!
Follow this adventure on our blog or on Twitter. As I'm sure you won't give a shit that we just ate a coffee cake or spotted a woman who looks just like Newt Gingrich, we promise to stick ONLY to the entertaining high (and low) lights.
See you on the Beltway!
tags: travel
Technically, this is true. I blame Thanksgiving.
Apparently, it's not possible to book an inexpensive trip to New Mexico on the most traveled weekend of the year, with 2 weeks advance notice. Who could possibly know this hidden fact? (Besides me, who worked for Travelocity for 3 years?)
Anyone at all? No?
Anyway, we had to get to DC eventually, so now is as good a time as any. We'll be leaving on Friday -- and you should totally come!
Follow this adventure on our blog or on Twitter. As I'm sure you won't give a shit that we just ate a coffee cake or spotted a woman who looks just like Newt Gingrich, we promise to stick ONLY to the entertaining high (and low) lights.
See you on the Beltway!
tags: travel
11/11/2011
Volunteers
In the continuing saga of things I never do like bowling, Primus, and eating Pringles (actually I do that last one pretty often)…
My dear friend and I spent Sunday at the NYC Marathon alongside 47,107 runners.
I say alongside, because we were amongst the 2 million spectators ALONG the route. I mean, you didn’t think we were running, did you? (Well, actually, SHE probably could run it. But not me. I’d rather have toothpicks shoved under my toenails.)
We were volunteering at the Hydration Zone on Mile 17, at 1st Ave in the 70s. That meant going to bed at a reasonable hour the night before AND waking up early on Daylight Savings morning. No extra hour of sleep here!
We really give until it hurts.
When faced with the choice of running 26.2 miles for hours or pouring cups of refreshing water for hours, I’ll pick the pour. Every. Single. Time.
So, while a couple of Kenyans were busy making history, we were being schooled by fellow volunteer, Seth. He was a likeable enough guy. Very excited to be there. Took a lot of pictures, striking the “double thumbs up” pose.
Seth took his hydration volunteerism quite seriously. And he had three strict rules:
1) Be precise about the amount of water in each cup – 1/3, no more no less.
2) Stack the cups 3-high in a “honeycomb formation” to ensure stability at each level.
3) Thoroughly inspect all cups for dirt, dust, or floating debris of ANY kind before distribution.
It was the last one that was the toughest to enforce. You have NO idea how much crap flies into thousands of water cups that have been sitting out for hours waiting for thirsty runners to whiz by. I was going nuts trying to keep them fresh!
Personally, I felt his standard was too high. If it were me, I'd say, dirt? Ok. Giant leaf? Not ok. Hair?
On the bubble.
Didn’t this guy ever play beer pong in college? There was so much junk floating in those cups I’m amazed we didn’t all get trenchmouth.
Keeping up with The Water Monitor wasn't the only drama on the sidelines. Z-100 was there (and my 12-year-old self was SUPER psyched). PLUS, I watched a sweaty runner man go off-course to propose to his girlfriend. AND I watched a sweaty runner lady go off-course to sit on a stack of boxes. I’m no doctor, but I’m guessing her immediate need for rest was largely due to the strange bone protruding from her shin.
Thankfully, I also avoided seeing the dreaded Poop Leg. I won't go into the details, but you know it when you see it. And then you can never erase that image from your brain for the rest of your life.
Anyway, on our run home (and by run, I mean taxi cab), I felt good knowing I’d pitched in -- gave something back to a city I love (sorta).
In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I think I’d like to hand out new things next year. Tissues! Breath mints! More modest ladies running gear! (Seriously, ladies, cover up. You can’t possibly chafe if your thighs don’t touch.)
Oh, I know, I'm just jealous. My thighs rub so much I could burn the crotch out of a suit of armor.
So, to sum up... volunteering is good, Poop Leg is nasty, dirt won't kill you, and I must stop eating Pringles.
Have YOU ever run for fun? Any distance at all? List it below and you'll win a cup of water!
tags: city life, sports
My dear friend and I spent Sunday at the NYC Marathon alongside 47,107 runners.
I say alongside, because we were amongst the 2 million spectators ALONG the route. I mean, you didn’t think we were running, did you? (Well, actually, SHE probably could run it. But not me. I’d rather have toothpicks shoved under my toenails.)
We were volunteering at the Hydration Zone on Mile 17, at 1st Ave in the 70s. That meant going to bed at a reasonable hour the night before AND waking up early on Daylight Savings morning. No extra hour of sleep here!
We really give until it hurts.
When faced with the choice of running 26.2 miles for hours or pouring cups of refreshing water for hours, I’ll pick the pour. Every. Single. Time.
So, while a couple of Kenyans were busy making history, we were being schooled by fellow volunteer, Seth. He was a likeable enough guy. Very excited to be there. Took a lot of pictures, striking the “double thumbs up” pose.
Seth took his hydration volunteerism quite seriously. And he had three strict rules:
1) Be precise about the amount of water in each cup – 1/3, no more no less.
2) Stack the cups 3-high in a “honeycomb formation” to ensure stability at each level.
3) Thoroughly inspect all cups for dirt, dust, or floating debris of ANY kind before distribution.
It was the last one that was the toughest to enforce. You have NO idea how much crap flies into thousands of water cups that have been sitting out for hours waiting for thirsty runners to whiz by. I was going nuts trying to keep them fresh!
Personally, I felt his standard was too high. If it were me, I'd say, dirt? Ok. Giant leaf? Not ok. Hair?
On the bubble.
Didn’t this guy ever play beer pong in college? There was so much junk floating in those cups I’m amazed we didn’t all get trenchmouth.
Keeping up with The Water Monitor wasn't the only drama on the sidelines. Z-100 was there (and my 12-year-old self was SUPER psyched). PLUS, I watched a sweaty runner man go off-course to propose to his girlfriend. AND I watched a sweaty runner lady go off-course to sit on a stack of boxes. I’m no doctor, but I’m guessing her immediate need for rest was largely due to the strange bone protruding from her shin.
Thankfully, I also avoided seeing the dreaded Poop Leg. I won't go into the details, but you know it when you see it. And then you can never erase that image from your brain for the rest of your life.
Anyway, on our run home (and by run, I mean taxi cab), I felt good knowing I’d pitched in -- gave something back to a city I love (sorta).
In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I think I’d like to hand out new things next year. Tissues! Breath mints! More modest ladies running gear! (Seriously, ladies, cover up. You can’t possibly chafe if your thighs don’t touch.)
Oh, I know, I'm just jealous. My thighs rub so much I could burn the crotch out of a suit of armor.
So, to sum up... volunteering is good, Poop Leg is nasty, dirt won't kill you, and I must stop eating Pringles.
Have YOU ever run for fun? Any distance at all? List it below and you'll win a cup of water!
tags: city life, sports
11/04/2011
Tonight, We Bowl
I went bowling the other night. I can count on my thumbs the number of times I’ve been bowling in my life.
Now check out this photo. That’s the scoreboard. I’m J Lo, pulling up the rear (insert ass joke here).
And I won. HA! Even I can’t believe it.
And no… I wasn’t playing against a bunch of children. Or drunks. Or blind people. Or armless dudes who roll the ball down the lane with their noses. No! They were regular celebrities, like me... J Lo.
We might form a league.
Now, don’t ask me what all the numbers, Xs, dashes, and slashes mean. Might as well be Chinese. I have no clue. I just know I scored 76, which is probably horrible by normal standards but was enough to chalk me up a W with this crowd.
Given the fact that I’ve been bowling 3 whole times now, I’d like to impart 3 shining pearls of Big Lebowski wisdom that will make you want to stitch your name on an unflattering shirt and eat chicken wings without washing your hands:
Tip #1: Bowl granny-style. It isn’t pretty, but it gets the job done.
Tip #2: Believe the ball’s slimy exterior is due to the Purell shower it takes on the journey back to you.
Tip #3: Wear thick socks to protect your feet from rental shoe infestation. Toss socks immediately after.
Is it a sport? I don't know. (I’m sure the Bowlers of America work up a great sweat growing their beer guts and receding hairlines). But it was goodtimes. Except for the weird guy I ran into outside the bathroom. He wanted me to listen to a song, and offered me his headphones. Mmmm. Using someone’s headphones is like using someone’s toothbrush. If we haven’t swapped spit, I want nothing to do with your earwax.
So that was a firm no. But otherwise, super fun.
Need more convincing? Watch this inspirational video clip from the cinematic treasure, Grease 2:
I think Adrian Zmed may have disinfected my shoes.
So, fellow natural athletes of pseudo-sports, share below your tales of darts, ping-pong, frisbee, bowling, or golf (which, let's face it, is just rich man's bowling).
Yep, I said it. Discuss...
tags: sports
Now check out this photo. That’s the scoreboard. I’m J Lo, pulling up the rear (insert ass joke here).
And I won. HA! Even I can’t believe it.
And no… I wasn’t playing against a bunch of children. Or drunks. Or blind people. Or armless dudes who roll the ball down the lane with their noses. No! They were regular celebrities, like me... J Lo.
We might form a league.
Now, don’t ask me what all the numbers, Xs, dashes, and slashes mean. Might as well be Chinese. I have no clue. I just know I scored 76, which is probably horrible by normal standards but was enough to chalk me up a W with this crowd.
Given the fact that I’ve been bowling 3 whole times now, I’d like to impart 3 shining pearls of Big Lebowski wisdom that will make you want to stitch your name on an unflattering shirt and eat chicken wings without washing your hands:
Tip #1: Bowl granny-style. It isn’t pretty, but it gets the job done.
Tip #2: Believe the ball’s slimy exterior is due to the Purell shower it takes on the journey back to you.
Tip #3: Wear thick socks to protect your feet from rental shoe infestation. Toss socks immediately after.
Is it a sport? I don't know. (I’m sure the Bowlers of America work up a great sweat growing their beer guts and receding hairlines). But it was goodtimes. Except for the weird guy I ran into outside the bathroom. He wanted me to listen to a song, and offered me his headphones. Mmmm. Using someone’s headphones is like using someone’s toothbrush. If we haven’t swapped spit, I want nothing to do with your earwax.
So that was a firm no. But otherwise, super fun.
Need more convincing? Watch this inspirational video clip from the cinematic treasure, Grease 2:
I think Adrian Zmed may have disinfected my shoes.
So, fellow natural athletes of pseudo-sports, share below your tales of darts, ping-pong, frisbee, bowling, or golf (which, let's face it, is just rich man's bowling).
Yep, I said it. Discuss...
tags: sports
10/26/2011
5 Fall TV Shows You Must Watch
Ahem. Is this thing on?
I haven’t blogged in ages. I could give you a million reasons why. But honestly, who cares? We have more important things to discuss here.
Like Fall TV.
You KNOW this is my favorite time of year. (Really, it is!) Baked, mashed, fried, scalloped, or au gratin, I become a couch potato every October. And I love it.
There’s probably 100 shows on my DVR. No joke. I’ve suffered through some stinkers (Hart of Dixie, Pan Am, Playboy Club, Whitney, Charlie’s Angels, Last Man Standing and Man Up, you owe me 5.5 hours of my life back).
Others were disappointingly ok, despite having some awesome casting choices (like Sarah Michelle Gellar in Ringer, Dave Foley & Rhys Darby in How to Be a Gentleman, Michael Patrick King who created 2 Broke Girls, Jeremy Sisto & Cheryl Hines in Suburgatory, Hank Azaria in Free Agents, and Christina Applegate & Will Arnett in Up All Night).
A handful have already been (mercifully) cancelled. But I’ve found 5 new shows that are already must-see TV.
Can you please watch them, so they don’t get cancelled too?
FOR A GOOD SCARE:
American Horror Story (FX)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Dylan McDermott & Connie Britton have moved clear across country to escape their marital problems (she delivered a stillborn baby, his grief drove him to cheat, she caught them in the act). Unfortunately, they’ve chosen to live in a haunted house that has killed every one of its former owners. A dude dressed in a black pleather sex suit lives in the attic. And a fang-toothed monster baby lives in the basement and eats people.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
I’m just scratching the surface of the crazy shit that happens on this show. You’ll have to watch each episode 2x to catch all the juicy bits.
FOR A SOAPY DRAMA:
Revenge (ABC)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
A woman moves to the Hamptons to avenge the death of her father by picking off all the people who destroyed her family. She was just a young girl back in the day when he took the fall for a crime someone else committed. Now she moves among them, like a social assassin, unrecognizable while she dismantles their lives one by one.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
The people are pretty (and loaded), the setting is over-the-top. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. Better grab the ice cream AND the chips for this one.
FOR YOUR INNER TWEEN:
The Secret Circle (CW)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
A 16-year old moves to New Salem (what are the odds?) and discovers she is popular – and a witch. Or is she popular because she’s a witch? Regardless, she is the missing member of a magic circle. And the kids don't get to hog all the power, their parents have the gift too (do yourself a favor and check out Gale Harrold -- try not to drool, he steals every scene).
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
This is Heathers meets The Craft. You could skip it, but then they’d cast an evil spell on you AND play croquet with your head.
FOR A GOOD LAUGH:
Happy Endings (NBC)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Ok, technically this was a mid-season replacement in the spring, but it’s back for a regular season and I love it. The show follows 6 twenty-somethings in Chicago, two of whom were engaged but broke up on their wedding day. Think Friends, remixed. Monica = Jane. Chandler = Brad. Joey = Max (but gay). Phoebe = Penny. Ross = Dave. Rachel = Alex.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
If you don’t legit laugh at least once an episode, you have dead shark eyes.
FOR ANYONE (me) LIVING UNDER A ROCK FOR THE LAST 2 YEARS:
The Good Wife (CBS)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer… Peter Florrick. Juliana Margulies plays the dutiful wife, humiliated, but standing beside her cheating husband -- Illinois state's attorney, Chris Noth. This lasts for a little while. He goes to jail. She becomes independent. The amazing Alan Cumming reinvents his political image. More lies are revealed. She secretly dumps hubby and hops in the sack with yummy Josh Charles.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
Let’s face it, this show is already a HUGE hit. But if you’re late to the victory party, totally Netflix seasons 1 & 2 like I did.
Disagree? See anything I missed? Put the DVR on pause and comment below...
tags: entertainment
I haven’t blogged in ages. I could give you a million reasons why. But honestly, who cares? We have more important things to discuss here.
Like Fall TV.
You KNOW this is my favorite time of year. (Really, it is!) Baked, mashed, fried, scalloped, or au gratin, I become a couch potato every October. And I love it.
There’s probably 100 shows on my DVR. No joke. I’ve suffered through some stinkers (Hart of Dixie, Pan Am, Playboy Club, Whitney, Charlie’s Angels, Last Man Standing and Man Up, you owe me 5.5 hours of my life back).
Others were disappointingly ok, despite having some awesome casting choices (like Sarah Michelle Gellar in Ringer, Dave Foley & Rhys Darby in How to Be a Gentleman, Michael Patrick King who created 2 Broke Girls, Jeremy Sisto & Cheryl Hines in Suburgatory, Hank Azaria in Free Agents, and Christina Applegate & Will Arnett in Up All Night).
A handful have already been (mercifully) cancelled. But I’ve found 5 new shows that are already must-see TV.
Can you please watch them, so they don’t get cancelled too?
FOR A GOOD SCARE:
American Horror Story (FX)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Dylan McDermott & Connie Britton have moved clear across country to escape their marital problems (she delivered a stillborn baby, his grief drove him to cheat, she caught them in the act). Unfortunately, they’ve chosen to live in a haunted house that has killed every one of its former owners. A dude dressed in a black pleather sex suit lives in the attic. And a fang-toothed monster baby lives in the basement and eats people.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
I’m just scratching the surface of the crazy shit that happens on this show. You’ll have to watch each episode 2x to catch all the juicy bits.
FOR A SOAPY DRAMA:
Revenge (ABC)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
A woman moves to the Hamptons to avenge the death of her father by picking off all the people who destroyed her family. She was just a young girl back in the day when he took the fall for a crime someone else committed. Now she moves among them, like a social assassin, unrecognizable while she dismantles their lives one by one.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
The people are pretty (and loaded), the setting is over-the-top. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. Better grab the ice cream AND the chips for this one.
FOR YOUR INNER TWEEN:
The Secret Circle (CW)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
A 16-year old moves to New Salem (what are the odds?) and discovers she is popular – and a witch. Or is she popular because she’s a witch? Regardless, she is the missing member of a magic circle. And the kids don't get to hog all the power, their parents have the gift too (do yourself a favor and check out Gale Harrold -- try not to drool, he steals every scene).
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
This is Heathers meets The Craft. You could skip it, but then they’d cast an evil spell on you AND play croquet with your head.
FOR A GOOD LAUGH:
Happy Endings (NBC)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Ok, technically this was a mid-season replacement in the spring, but it’s back for a regular season and I love it. The show follows 6 twenty-somethings in Chicago, two of whom were engaged but broke up on their wedding day. Think Friends, remixed. Monica = Jane. Chandler = Brad. Joey = Max (but gay). Phoebe = Penny. Ross = Dave. Rachel = Alex.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
If you don’t legit laugh at least once an episode, you have dead shark eyes.
FOR ANYONE (me) LIVING UNDER A ROCK FOR THE LAST 2 YEARS:
The Good Wife (CBS)
WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer… Peter Florrick. Juliana Margulies plays the dutiful wife, humiliated, but standing beside her cheating husband -- Illinois state's attorney, Chris Noth. This lasts for a little while. He goes to jail. She becomes independent. The amazing Alan Cumming reinvents his political image. More lies are revealed. She secretly dumps hubby and hops in the sack with yummy Josh Charles.
WHY YOU NEED TO WATCH:
Let’s face it, this show is already a HUGE hit. But if you’re late to the victory party, totally Netflix seasons 1 & 2 like I did.
Disagree? See anything I missed? Put the DVR on pause and comment below...
tags: entertainment
10/04/2011
Primus
Roseland Ballroom. Primus. Floor Seats. Mosh Pit. Me.
Which one of these things doesn’t belong? If you said, ME, you really couldn’t be more wrong.
Don't believe me? Have we met? I'm not all pearls and sensible shoes, you know (yes I am). My concert history isn't ALL Bon Jovi and Dave Matthews and Hootie & the Blowfish and Celine Dion (she really does put on a helluva show).
No!
I almost saw Radiohead and the White Stripes once. I HAVE seen Tool and Nine Inch Nails. On purpose, even!
So when my brother invited me to see Primus with him on Friday night because his buddy bailed out, I was, of course, down for an adventure. How could I resist? Me and Primus are like peanut butter & jelly.
Ok, okaaaay, more like peanut butter and onions. But whatevs. I'll always jump at the chance to hang out with my (not so little) brother, and we had a total blast.
It was an illuminating evening in Primusville... here's 5 life lessons I learned at the show:
1. The band I thought was Primus… wasn’t.
All day long, I had an angry metal song stuck in my head, I'm doing the best I ever did. I'm doing the best that I can. When I told my brother that Whatever was the only Primus song I knew, his eyes just about popped out of his head. Turns out, that's Godsmack. Huh. Oops? Then he played, Jerry Was a Racecar Driver, and I realized THAT was the only Primus song I knew.
2. My idea of edgy… isn’t.
See that shiny silver-ish foot sticking out from a very wide pant leg? That's me. I thought this getup would help me blend in with the natives. Unfortunately, my fashion sense is a step past Amish and I don’t own the appropriate clothes/footwear to swim in this pool.
3. My thought that I can go beer for beer with a guy… can’t.
First, there was the 6-pack we split at my apt. Nothing but the finest (Bud Light). Then, there were the beers at dinner. Next, came the giant bar at Roseland. By the time I nearly cut my thumb off while whipping up late-nite snacks for us back at my apt, I remembered a lesson hard-learned in college: I do NOT have a hollow leg. Luckily, homemade BBQ chicken quesadillas eaten at 1am soak up quite a lot of alcohol.
4. My worry that I’m too old and no longer cute… shouldn’t.
It's amazing what hanging out in a room loaded with stinky, hairy dudes does for your self-esteem. Suddenly, you're a supermodel! It was literally 200 to 1 in there, so flashing my pearly whites just after the intermission equaled a 1-way-ticket to the VIP balcony. Always a quick thinker, my first question (to the bouncer) was, can my brother come? My second question (to my brother) was, do you have a $20? Ahhh. Worth every penny.
5. The concert I was afraid might suck… didn’t.
See that big red thing behind us? That's the bar. That helped. And sure, I didn't REALLY understand the giant inflatable astronauts that flanked the stage. Or the screen behind the stage that showed film of car crashes and albino flying squirrels and kids playing Ring Around the Rosie. Or the fact that the fans chant, "Primus Sucks," and that's a good thing. Or the exceptionally long Popeye cartoon that ran during intermission. OR the Willy Wonka theme song that played while we exited the ballroom. But the concert was awesome, nevertheless.
I'm pretty sure that had more to do with the company I was with than anything else. Plus the beer. But mostly... the company. Good times!
So, what's the strangest concert YOU've ever been to? (Bonus points if you could actually identify their hit songs.)
tags: city life, music
Which one of these things doesn’t belong? If you said, ME, you really couldn’t be more wrong.
Don't believe me? Have we met? I'm not all pearls and sensible shoes, you know (yes I am). My concert history isn't ALL Bon Jovi and Dave Matthews and Hootie & the Blowfish and Celine Dion (she really does put on a helluva show).
No!
I almost saw Radiohead and the White Stripes once. I HAVE seen Tool and Nine Inch Nails. On purpose, even!
So when my brother invited me to see Primus with him on Friday night because his buddy bailed out, I was, of course, down for an adventure. How could I resist? Me and Primus are like peanut butter & jelly.
Ok, okaaaay, more like peanut butter and onions. But whatevs. I'll always jump at the chance to hang out with my (not so little) brother, and we had a total blast.
It was an illuminating evening in Primusville... here's 5 life lessons I learned at the show:
1. The band I thought was Primus… wasn’t.
All day long, I had an angry metal song stuck in my head, I'm doing the best I ever did. I'm doing the best that I can. When I told my brother that Whatever was the only Primus song I knew, his eyes just about popped out of his head. Turns out, that's Godsmack. Huh. Oops? Then he played, Jerry Was a Racecar Driver, and I realized THAT was the only Primus song I knew.
2. My idea of edgy… isn’t.
See that shiny silver-ish foot sticking out from a very wide pant leg? That's me. I thought this getup would help me blend in with the natives. Unfortunately, my fashion sense is a step past Amish and I don’t own the appropriate clothes/footwear to swim in this pool.
3. My thought that I can go beer for beer with a guy… can’t.
First, there was the 6-pack we split at my apt. Nothing but the finest (Bud Light). Then, there were the beers at dinner. Next, came the giant bar at Roseland. By the time I nearly cut my thumb off while whipping up late-nite snacks for us back at my apt, I remembered a lesson hard-learned in college: I do NOT have a hollow leg. Luckily, homemade BBQ chicken quesadillas eaten at 1am soak up quite a lot of alcohol.
4. My worry that I’m too old and no longer cute… shouldn’t.
It's amazing what hanging out in a room loaded with stinky, hairy dudes does for your self-esteem. Suddenly, you're a supermodel! It was literally 200 to 1 in there, so flashing my pearly whites just after the intermission equaled a 1-way-ticket to the VIP balcony. Always a quick thinker, my first question (to the bouncer) was, can my brother come? My second question (to my brother) was, do you have a $20? Ahhh. Worth every penny.
5. The concert I was afraid might suck… didn’t.
See that big red thing behind us? That's the bar. That helped. And sure, I didn't REALLY understand the giant inflatable astronauts that flanked the stage. Or the screen behind the stage that showed film of car crashes and albino flying squirrels and kids playing Ring Around the Rosie. Or the fact that the fans chant, "Primus Sucks," and that's a good thing. Or the exceptionally long Popeye cartoon that ran during intermission. OR the Willy Wonka theme song that played while we exited the ballroom. But the concert was awesome, nevertheless.
I'm pretty sure that had more to do with the company I was with than anything else. Plus the beer. But mostly... the company. Good times!
So, what's the strangest concert YOU've ever been to? (Bonus points if you could actually identify their hit songs.)
tags: city life, music
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