Stupid Cupid

So Valentine’s Day was yesterday. My Valentine is like Feb 30th.

Doesn’t exist.

But I’m not bitter. Ok, maybe I’m a little bitter. But mostly I’m relieved to avoid obligatory participation in this day of impossible expectations.

You might be saying, that's because I date all the wrong guys.  You won't get any argument from me!  The best gift V-Day I ever got was a Whatchamacallit from my boyfriend Sophmore year.  In college.  I'm not even sure we were officially dating at the time.

Sigh.

Anyway more often than not, it's a letdown. Maybe your roses came from a deli. Or maybe your husband had all the subtlety of a baboon when he gave you a hot pink bag containing Victoria’s skimpiest secret. Or just maybe, your idea of true romance is a night spent alone huffing glue in a black rubber suit.

No matter.

All any of us needs to feel better about ourselves is to look at country music. Regardless of what went south with your Tuesday night, these sad saps ALWAYS have it worse.

Don't believe me?  Saddle up and check out these real song titles:

I’ve Been Flushed from the Bathroom of Your Heart
by Johnny Cash

Get Your Tongue Outta My Mouth 'Cause I’m Kissing You Goodbye
by John Denver

You’re the Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly
by Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty

I Would Have Wrote You a Letter, But I Couldn’t Spell Yuuk
by the Geezinslaw Bros.

Thank God and Greyhound She’s Gone
by Roy Clark

Billy Broke My Heart at Walgreens and I Cried All the Way to Sears
by Ruby Wright

I’m Gonna Hire a Wino (To Decorate Our Home)
by David Frizzell




Oh, and here's my favorite. I couldn’t track down the singer, probably because it’s FAR too awesome to be real:

I’m Sorry I Made You Cry, But at Least Your Face Is Clean
by ???




Well, I guess Cupid got it wrong. Again. Nice shot, you big fat baby!

I'm also fairly certain I have some bad Cupid karma floating out there from a recent first (and last) date.  Remind me to tell you about it sometime. 

So has my all-but-certain future of moth balls, couch doilies and 14 cats made me cynical?  Or do you agree that V-Day is more fizzle than sizzle? 

Pour YOUR heart out below...


tags: dating, holidays, music

Monday Evening Quarterback

Wait.  Was there a game on last night?!? 

Well, somebody better call Ripley, because I cannot believe this shit.

111.3MM viewers tuned to NBC as the Giants and the Pats battled it out in Super Bowl XLVI, making this the most-watched event ever. Again.

I read someplace last week that the average person planned to spend $65 on drinks, snacks and gear to get in the spirit. I’m pretty sure I spent that on cannolis alone. But that’s nothing compared to the ads.

In total, 70 commercials aired at the bargain price of $3.5MM per :30 spot. That's $116,666.67 per second.

(Recession?  What recession?  Let's sell Doritos.)

We ALL know I’m not remotely qualified to discuss ANY of the game. Not a single play. Even though I watched the whole thing -- from coin toss to confetti drop -- on the edge of my seat, in my Eli Manning long-sleeved t-shirt (because it was too chilly for my Phil Simms short-sleeved t-shirt). 

My sparkly blue nail polish probably sealed my fate. 

What I CAN do, as a self-appointed TV MVP, is judge the commercials. If I was giving out trophies, hands-down the automotive industry drove off with the best ads this year.

Tons of pre-game fanfare with Ferris and Honda. Acura had Seinfeld, Leno, and the Soup Nazi. Volkswagen gave a dog a workout, and then inexplicably tossed Darth Vader in the mix. Audi slayed a ton of vampires with its daytime headlights (nevermind Edward drives a Volvo, and this concept is about 2 years too stale). And Chrysler gave us Halftime in America with leathery cheerleader, Clint Eastwood. He was inspiring (and vaguely Reagan-esque).

Then there was Chevy.

While their Sonic ad left me wanting hamburgers and chili cheese tater tots far more than I wanted this weird little stunt car, I did laugh as their “happy grad” thought he got the best gift ever -- a bright yellow Camaro.

But the Silverado Mayan apocalypse was my favorite of ALL the ads I saw (when I wasn’t too busy snacking or yapping). 

Only Chevys, Twinkies, and Barry Manilow will survive:




On the flip side, my least favorite commercial had to be for Pepsi. Elton John dressed like a chubby, bedazzled king and some X-Factor chick nobody knows?

Well, that sounds like a bulletproof plan to sell soda:



What a fall from the sugar-high set by the galaxy of musical stars that have sold Pepsi products over the years!


Ugh. I can’t end on that note. It’s too lame. Let’s all pretend that we just got a bright yellow Camaro:





Ah, that's better.

Which ads stood out to YOU?  Channel your inner Don Draper and list your fave spots below...


tags: commercials, sports

Big Blue Wrecking Crew

One week from today, we'll all be huddled around the TV watching the Super Bowl for a night of testosterone-fueled fun.  A Giants fan by birth, I'll be marginally more interested in this game than I am most years, but really I'm in it for one thing.

The snacks.

Field goal, fumble, touchdown, sack, or blitz.  I don't really care, just pass the chips.

My brother and sister-in-law are ordering up some of the old standbys from their local Italian deli -- a 4ft sub, a tray of baked ziti -- and I've been tasked with bringing a mystery dish.  The question is, what to bring?  Savory or sweet? 

I'm a good cook, but I'm not a good baker.  Cooking I like because it's improvisational.  A pinch of this, a dash of that.  Ok, I get it.  But baking is so precise!  If your measurements are off, your cake's a wreck.  And the pitfalls don't stop there -- what you put ON a cake is as important as what you put IN it.

For inspiration, I've turned to Cake Wrecks.  File these in your Big Game baking playbook under "What Not To Bring"...



Are you ready for some FOOBTALL?!?



Wow, this dog is an artist. He poops out footballs!



Home?  Away?  Who cares!  All I know is " You Teaw" is here, and that's enough for me.



When football and Hanukkah collide. Yee haw!  (Oy vey.)



Super Bowel, Go Go Go.  Is that a cheer after you've had too much bean dip?



Keep your hands where I can see them, Cookie. Nobody wants to touch down there.



Here's someone who knows less about football than I do.  They're round, dummy! (Kidding, I know they're square.)



We salute you, Mr. Grocery-Store-Bakery-Cake-Decorator. (Ooooh ooh... tell us how you really feel!)



You know what?  Football IS fabulous!  Go Red Sox!


Are YOU baking up anything special for Sunday? Save me a slice below...


tags: food, sports

20 Apps I Adore

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

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

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)

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

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. 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.
3. Add in the sugar and mix some more.
4. Plop in the egg yolk, and the 2 extracts.  Keep on mixing.
5. Gradually add the flour.  Or if you're impatient like me, just dump it in -- it will all blend together. Eventually.
6. 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.
7. 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.
8. Choose your design and load up your cookie press with dough.
9. 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. 
10. 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.
11. 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.
12. 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

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

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

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

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