Last Friday at 4:02pm, I turned 39.
I think that’s the first time I’ve written my new age. It's official.
I don’t like it!
I mean, how can this BE?!? In my head, I’m still 19. My gray hairs beg to differ. But I know I need to learn to embrace this new number. After all, it’s FAR better than the one that’s up next.
F… ahem. Ffff... Ffort...
Nope. Can’t say it. Thank God I have cheesecake.
Waaaay back in Feb 2009, when I was a wee 35 and this blog was just 6 months old, I told you these 25 random things about myself. I've freshened a few up, and added 14 new ones, to make 39 little windows into quirky ol' me.
One for every candle on my cake.
Enjoy:
1) I organize my refrigerator.
2) I don’t eat eggs under any circumstances. That means nothing scrambled, poached, fried, over easy, or hard boiled. I just say no to bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and eggs benedict. No frittatas or quiches either – they are just fancy egg pies. No way, no how. No eggs. Ever.
3) I don’t drink coffee. Not for health reasons at all. Just don’t like it.
4) I have two recurring nightmares: 1) that I can’t graduate college because I skipped all my classes, and 2) that I’m giving a presentation and all my teeth start falling out of my head and bounce around on the table like Chiclets.
5) I watch more reality television than any professional, thinking, college graduate should. Or should admit to.
6) My first job ever was for The Gap in Willowbrook Mall at age 16. I started as a greeter and about 2 months later, got promoted to the fitting room. During this time, I learned you shouldn't use your employee discount to spend more than you make, and the general public is out to stink up, stain, or steal all your clothes.
7) I wrote a book called "29" (truthfully, a 280-page manuscript that hopes one day to grow up to become a published novel), in real-time from my 29th birthday until the day I turned 30, and it’s now collecting dust in a drawer. I've started writing "39" to keep it company.
8) I started this blog in 2008 to help me get back into the habit of writing, but I really just like blogging for blogging's sake. Bloggers get book deals now too, you know! Or so I hear.
9) I have less teeth in my mouth than the average adult. As a kid, my dentist used to pull them 2 and 3 at a time (mostly baby teeth, I don't look like a jack-o-lantern) to make more room because I have a tiny jaw and big horse teeth. And then he would put them on a string and make me wear them home like a necklace. Seriously.
10) I was bitten by a dog when I was 7 and chased by a dog when I was 9, so I’m not really a pet person. But if I had to choose, I prefer dogs over cats, hands down. And if I ever got a dog, I'd name him Leo.
11) I was a cheerleader in college, but don’t get too excited – it was only one year and it was for basketball. Go Stags!
12) I also hosted a radio show with my college roommate. That was more legit – for 3 years. I learned the ropes from someone who called himself "Professor Poopypants" and then I got a show at 6am. We’d play our own CDs and read issues of Glamour on-air. Now I work one floor above that magazine. It's the circle of life.
13) I was responsible for reading Danielle Steel’s fan mail in my first publishing job. It's shocking how many prisoners write to her.
14) I read about 2 books per week when I worked in book publishing. In the 12 years since I left that industry, I feel like I read 2 books a year. And I feel kind of guilty about it.
15) I like my entertainment good and fluffy. Tear-jerkers, talking heads, sci-fi, and police procedurals need not apply.
16) I organize the money in my wallet, with the bills all facing the same direction in order from Washington to Jackson. Anything less is just chaos.
17) I have a state quarter book. And I love it. It took more than 10 years to fill, and Arizona was the trickiest state to find. I've only been tempted to break into it once, when the Fresh Direct guy came and I didn't have enough singles for a tip.
18) I always wear socks to bed, even in the summer.
19) I am afraid of the dark – I sleep with a light and the television on all night.
20) I’m a chronic snoozer, sometimes I’ll hit it for an entire hour instead of just sleeping longer.
21) I hate talking on the phone. There’s only 3 people in my life that I actually enjoy calling. I’m not telling who they are, but one of them definitely reads this blog, one might read this blog, and one barely knows what a blog is.
22) I don’t like strangers, which makes online dating a particular challenge.
23) I once went to American Idol tryouts at Giants Stadium with the Travelocity Roaming Gnome. It was for work. He really wanted to belt out Celine Dion’s, My Heart Will Go On.
24) My first concert was Rick Springfield when I was 10.
25) The song on my iPod with the most plays is Xanadu by the magnificent Olivia Newton John.
26) The movie I've seen more than any other in the history of cinema is Grease. I know every single word. I simply cannot get enough ONJ, and I believe I was, in fact, born to hand jive.
27) I've seen every episode of Friends at least 10 times, and still watch it every night before I go to bed. I like to pretend I am Chandler.
28) I hate smokers. If I've ever allowed you to pollute my lungs, it's only because I value your friendship more than I despise your selfish, stupid, filthy habit.
29) I took the LSAT my senior year in college, and sometimes wish I'd gone to law school.
30) But really, if I could do anything for a living, and not worry about pesky things like eating and keeping a roof over my head, I would be a writer. Or own a flower shop.
31) I hate washing dishes. I would literally throw them out before I'd stand over a sudsy sink, scrubbing. I never pre-rinse my dishes. This is precisely why I have a dishwasher.
32) I have no less than 10 pillows on my bed, and every time I pass a Homegoods, I resist the urge to buy more. I am seldom successful.
33) There are few things I love more than driving. I would like someone to teach me how to drive stick so I can go to the Richard Petty racecar school one day.
34) I never get manicures, pedicures, or massages. Spa treatments are not remotely relaxing to me.
35) My favorite vacation of all time was 10 days that I spent by myself in the Cayman Islands. My email and cell phone didn't work, my biggest decision each day was beach or pool, and it was heaven.
36) Every August I look forward to my Ikea catalog arriving. I set aside time to read it like I would a cherished novel.
37) My favorite pizza topping is bacon. When I want to be healthy I get pepperoni instead. This is why my pants don't fit.
38) I never met a handbag I didn't like. No matter what size I am that day, the bag always fits.
39) I really hope that I'll have someone special to share my next birthday with. If I'm still single when the time comes, I'll say it's cool, but we both know I'll be lying.
So, are YOU aging gracefully? Or are you horrified by the number of candles on your cake?
List your own quirks -- or your favorite age -- below...
tags: holidays
8/10/2012
7/31/2012
Going for Gold
I can’t get into the Olympics.
There, I said it.
I know, I know! I should feel SOME Team USA pride, and on a macro level, of course, I do!
But on an everyday basis, I know more about the scandals than I do about the scores. Like the Ralph Lauren team uniform brouhaha. And the sea of empty seats in the stadiums. And the Queen Mum’s preoccupation with her fingernails during the opening ceremony. And the fact that NBC’s broadcast delays, spoilers, and idiotic commentary has everyone in an uproar (#nbcfail).
Now, I know I’m not the sportiest gal you ever met, but I did think I had a handle on the types of competitions that were worthy of this world stage.
I was wrong.
Can someone PLEASE explain when Badminton and Trampoline became Olympic sports?
Every block in America has that house with a trampoline in the yard. It's right next store to the house with burn marks on the garage from a deep-fried turkey, down the street from the one with a hole in the roof from wayward DIY fireworks.
The everyday appeal of “sports” like Badminton and Trampoline have inspired me to develop my own list of competitions that I could do around the house.
Olympics Selection Committee, are you listening?
I know I could bring home a bronze, silver, or gold medal with these beauties:
Competitive Gift Wrapping
Qualifications: If you’ve ever received a gift from me, you know.
Parallel Parking
Qualifications: I’m an excellent driver, and I say that without the slightest trace of irony.
DVR Programming
Qualifications: My DVR is a symphony of carefully orchestrated network and cable television shows.
Googling
Qualifications: I'm an ugly typist but I can find anything in 30 seconds flat.
Shower Re-grouting
Qualifications: I love the smell of fresh caulk in the morning.
Fridge Organizing
Qualifications: I believe tastes go together, so the salsa and the strawberry jelly shouldn’t share a shelf.
Laundry Folding
Qualifications: My first high school job was at The Gap – I can fold a tshirt like nobody’s business.
Taxicab Hailing
Qualifications: I can distinguish between an available, taken, off duty, and off duty but might still take you cab.
Slap on a jaunty beret and play along! What Faux-lympic sports would YOU excel in?
tags: sports
There, I said it.
I know, I know! I should feel SOME Team USA pride, and on a macro level, of course, I do!
But on an everyday basis, I know more about the scandals than I do about the scores. Like the Ralph Lauren team uniform brouhaha. And the sea of empty seats in the stadiums. And the Queen Mum’s preoccupation with her fingernails during the opening ceremony. And the fact that NBC’s broadcast delays, spoilers, and idiotic commentary has everyone in an uproar (#nbcfail).
Now, I know I’m not the sportiest gal you ever met, but I did think I had a handle on the types of competitions that were worthy of this world stage.
I was wrong.
Can someone PLEASE explain when Badminton and Trampoline became Olympic sports?
Every block in America has that house with a trampoline in the yard. It's right next store to the house with burn marks on the garage from a deep-fried turkey, down the street from the one with a hole in the roof from wayward DIY fireworks.
The everyday appeal of “sports” like Badminton and Trampoline have inspired me to develop my own list of competitions that I could do around the house.
Olympics Selection Committee, are you listening?
I know I could bring home a bronze, silver, or gold medal with these beauties:
Competitive Gift Wrapping
Qualifications: If you’ve ever received a gift from me, you know.
Parallel Parking
Qualifications: I’m an excellent driver, and I say that without the slightest trace of irony.
DVR Programming
Qualifications: My DVR is a symphony of carefully orchestrated network and cable television shows.
Googling
Qualifications: I'm an ugly typist but I can find anything in 30 seconds flat.
Shower Re-grouting
Qualifications: I love the smell of fresh caulk in the morning.
Fridge Organizing
Qualifications: I believe tastes go together, so the salsa and the strawberry jelly shouldn’t share a shelf.
Laundry Folding
Qualifications: My first high school job was at The Gap – I can fold a tshirt like nobody’s business.
Taxicab Hailing
Qualifications: I can distinguish between an available, taken, off duty, and off duty but might still take you cab.
Slap on a jaunty beret and play along! What Faux-lympic sports would YOU excel in?
tags: sports
7/18/2012
Your Kind of Town
Some of you reading this already know that my brother and his family are moving to Chicago. Especially if you’re my brother. Or my mom.
For those of you who don’t… my brother and his family are moving to Chicago.
Today.
Well, not Chicago proper, but a friendly suburb along Lake Michigan. Imagine every neighborhood in every John Hughes movie ever. It will be like that.
Sounds amazing, right?
Truthfully, I’m thisclose to becoming a stowaway in their moving truck. Just call me Aunt Hobo.
Words fail me right now. I’ve started twelve different sentences, nothing I write seems to express what’s going through my head and heart. But this would be a short, stupid post if I ended it here, so I’ll give it a shot.
Obviously, this bittersweet. I’ll miss my munchkins like crazy. And our Super Bowl parties. And our taste tests. And our fun and games.
But more than anything, I’m incredibly proud that they had the courage to seize this amazing opportunity that came their way. My brother (like me) has never lived outside of the tri-state area, and my sister-in-law has spent nearly all her life in CT. It’s a giant leap of faith. I know it isn’t easy for them to pack up and move halfway across the country, but once they made the decision to go, everything else seemed to click into place.
That’s how I know they’re on the right track.
I don’t want to get all blubbery here (though all bets are off as I wave goodbye). Instead, as the older sister, I feel I need to prepare them for the MOST important part of their new hometown.
The food!
In our family, food is love. Maybe it’s the same in yours? While I can’t send them off with a giant tray of eggplant parm, I CAN give them a hit-list of the best eats in the Windy City.
Guys, meet Chicago’s 4 major food groups (it’s a good thing you’re not vegetarians – sincerely, you would be ostracized):
1) DEEP DISH PIZZA
Gino’s East
Must Eat: Deep dish cheese and famous crumbled sausage
Lou Malnati's
Must Eat: The Chicago Classic with Buttercrust
2) ALL-BEEF HOT DOGS
Cozy Dog Drive-In
Must Eat: A batter-dipped, fried cozy dog
Superdawg (home of Flaurie and Maurie, 10ft tall leopard-clad weiners)
Must Eat: Whoopskidog Polish sausage and Superonion chips
Poochies
Must Eat: Jumbo char dog with cheddar fries
3) ITALIAN BEEF SANDWICHES
Al’s #1 Italian Beef
Must Eat: Big beef, double dipped in pan gravy
Mr. Beef
Must Eat: Italian beef and sausage combo, topped with giardiniera, a pepper salad
4) GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED STEAKS
Gene & Georgetti
Must Eat: A t-bone and a garbage salad of antipasto and one giant shrimp
Lawry’s Prime Rib
Must Eat: Prime rib and a spinning salad bowl
BONUS MEAT:
Billy Goat Tavern
Must Eat: Cheezeborger, cheezeborger! No fries, cheeps! No Pepsi, Coke!
Harry Caray’s
Must Eat: Chicken Vesuvio, sautéed in white wine, garlic, and olive oil
Ricobene’s
Must Eat: Breaded steak sandwich with Sunday gravy and mozzarella
Twin Anchors
Must Eat: Baby back ribs with “zesty” BBQ sauce
Hit up these joints, and Chicago will be YOUR kind of town in no time.
Oh, one more thing! On the way in, you may want to swing through Walmart for some elastic-waist pants. Just sayin’…
Safe travels and much love on this great adventure.
xoxo
PS: Anybody know any more amazing Midwestern meat? Add it below, but keep it clean – this is a family post!
tags: family, food, travel
For those of you who don’t… my brother and his family are moving to Chicago.
Today.
Well, not Chicago proper, but a friendly suburb along Lake Michigan. Imagine every neighborhood in every John Hughes movie ever. It will be like that.
Sounds amazing, right?
Truthfully, I’m thisclose to becoming a stowaway in their moving truck. Just call me Aunt Hobo.
Words fail me right now. I’ve started twelve different sentences, nothing I write seems to express what’s going through my head and heart. But this would be a short, stupid post if I ended it here, so I’ll give it a shot.
Obviously, this bittersweet. I’ll miss my munchkins like crazy. And our Super Bowl parties. And our taste tests. And our fun and games.
But more than anything, I’m incredibly proud that they had the courage to seize this amazing opportunity that came their way. My brother (like me) has never lived outside of the tri-state area, and my sister-in-law has spent nearly all her life in CT. It’s a giant leap of faith. I know it isn’t easy for them to pack up and move halfway across the country, but once they made the decision to go, everything else seemed to click into place.
That’s how I know they’re on the right track.
I don’t want to get all blubbery here (though all bets are off as I wave goodbye). Instead, as the older sister, I feel I need to prepare them for the MOST important part of their new hometown.
The food!
In our family, food is love. Maybe it’s the same in yours? While I can’t send them off with a giant tray of eggplant parm, I CAN give them a hit-list of the best eats in the Windy City.
Guys, meet Chicago’s 4 major food groups (it’s a good thing you’re not vegetarians – sincerely, you would be ostracized):
1) DEEP DISH PIZZA
Gino’s East
Must Eat: Deep dish cheese and famous crumbled sausage
Lou Malnati's
Must Eat: The Chicago Classic with Buttercrust
2) ALL-BEEF HOT DOGS
Cozy Dog Drive-In
Must Eat: A batter-dipped, fried cozy dog
Superdawg (home of Flaurie and Maurie, 10ft tall leopard-clad weiners)
Must Eat: Whoopskidog Polish sausage and Superonion chips
Poochies
Must Eat: Jumbo char dog with cheddar fries
3) ITALIAN BEEF SANDWICHES
Al’s #1 Italian Beef
Must Eat: Big beef, double dipped in pan gravy
Mr. Beef
Must Eat: Italian beef and sausage combo, topped with giardiniera, a pepper salad
4) GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED STEAKS
Gene & Georgetti
Must Eat: A t-bone and a garbage salad of antipasto and one giant shrimp
Lawry’s Prime Rib
Must Eat: Prime rib and a spinning salad bowl
BONUS MEAT:
Billy Goat Tavern
Must Eat: Cheezeborger, cheezeborger! No fries, cheeps! No Pepsi, Coke!
Harry Caray’s
Must Eat: Chicken Vesuvio, sautéed in white wine, garlic, and olive oil
Ricobene’s
Must Eat: Breaded steak sandwich with Sunday gravy and mozzarella
Twin Anchors
Must Eat: Baby back ribs with “zesty” BBQ sauce
Hit up these joints, and Chicago will be YOUR kind of town in no time.
Oh, one more thing! On the way in, you may want to swing through Walmart for some elastic-waist pants. Just sayin’…
Safe travels and much love on this great adventure.
xoxo
PS: Anybody know any more amazing Midwestern meat? Add it below, but keep it clean – this is a family post!
tags: family, food, travel
7/11/2012
The Little Professor
As a kid, I never played teacher or school (though I did love my Little Professor). Nothing against it, really, just wasn't my thing.
I DO remember playing librarian. No joke, I would write dates inside all our books, check them out, and then charge fines when they were overdue.
Weird? Eh.
I also pretended to be an advertising executive and would act out commercials with my friends. I fancied myself an artist, and came thisclose to getting a beret. And I regularly dressed up like Wonder Woman, complete with tinfoil cuffs to deflect imaginary bullets.
So, imagine my surprise that I was recently asked to teach a marketing class!
Good thing I've been at this marketing thing for 17 years, or else I might be completely unprepared. My class runs for 6 weeks and it's all online, so each week I record a video of myself teaching it and students can play it on-demand.
It's like my lifelong dream -- Jenny TV.
In honor of my upcoming teaching gig, I thought I'd pay tribute to the 3 teachers who most influenced me:
1) Mrs. Tubbs
Elementary school English teacher in 4th and 6th grades
The best thing about her was: she brought humor into the classroom. She taught us how to diagram a sentence and she rocked a green poncho like nobody's business.
2) Mr. Williams
High school English teacher in 10th and 12th grades
The best thing about him was: he believed we could do anything. He taught us how to interpret the classics and he was a gentle giant sasquatch. Seriously, he was at least 6'5" and extremely hairy.
3) Ms. Wills
College Communications professor in sophomore, junior, and senior years
The best thing about her was: she had heart. She taught us not to fear public speaking and she got all emotional when she took us out to lunch before graduation (probably on her own dime) because we were the first kids she'd ever taught.
I hope I do them proud.
And while we're at it, might as well give honorary mention to Mr. Inguaggiato, my elementary school librarian. Never before or since has there been a guy more into the Dewey Decimal System or turquoise man-jewelry.
Did YOU have a favorite teacher? Give him (or her!) a shout-out below...
tags: work
I DO remember playing librarian. No joke, I would write dates inside all our books, check them out, and then charge fines when they were overdue.
Weird? Eh.
I also pretended to be an advertising executive and would act out commercials with my friends. I fancied myself an artist, and came thisclose to getting a beret. And I regularly dressed up like Wonder Woman, complete with tinfoil cuffs to deflect imaginary bullets.
So, imagine my surprise that I was recently asked to teach a marketing class!
Good thing I've been at this marketing thing for 17 years, or else I might be completely unprepared. My class runs for 6 weeks and it's all online, so each week I record a video of myself teaching it and students can play it on-demand.
It's like my lifelong dream -- Jenny TV.
In honor of my upcoming teaching gig, I thought I'd pay tribute to the 3 teachers who most influenced me:
1) Mrs. Tubbs
Elementary school English teacher in 4th and 6th grades
The best thing about her was: she brought humor into the classroom. She taught us how to diagram a sentence and she rocked a green poncho like nobody's business.
2) Mr. Williams
High school English teacher in 10th and 12th grades
The best thing about him was: he believed we could do anything. He taught us how to interpret the classics and he was a gentle giant sasquatch. Seriously, he was at least 6'5" and extremely hairy.
3) Ms. Wills
College Communications professor in sophomore, junior, and senior years
The best thing about her was: she had heart. She taught us not to fear public speaking and she got all emotional when she took us out to lunch before graduation (probably on her own dime) because we were the first kids she'd ever taught.
I hope I do them proud.
And while we're at it, might as well give honorary mention to Mr. Inguaggiato, my elementary school librarian. Never before or since has there been a guy more into the Dewey Decimal System or turquoise man-jewelry.
Did YOU have a favorite teacher? Give him (or her!) a shout-out below...
tags: work
6/29/2012
I Scream
YOU scream, we ALL scream for ICE CREEEEEAM!
Since I work for a food site, it’s not unusual for us to have fun treats in meetings. (Tough life, I know.)
The other day, we had tons of ice cream that I’d never seen before with exotic flavors like Sea Salt Caramel, Banana Chocolate Swirl, Blood Orange, and Sicilian Pistachio.
You had me at Caramel.
Since it’s about 1,000 degrees outside, after work that day I shamefully slipped into the Dirty Gristedes across the street from my apt on a mission to cool off. It is gross, but it is also close and I feared melting into the pavement if I walked one. More. Block.
I was in search of this mysterious brand we ate, and lo and behold, Dirty Gristedes had a whole mess of this fancy stuff, slumming it next to what looked like a half-eaten Chubby Hubby.
Bingo.
While I was shoulder-deep in the freezer case, I had an idea. What if I did an ice cream blind taste test? Genius! Until I realized it would cost me about $50 AND I would be left alone in my apt with a fridge-full of ice cream.
What if I ate it all and then I couldn't fit through the door?
Whatever. I was delirious from the heat and there's a fire department around the corner, so I grabbed a basket and went to town.
Now, I’m not a 365-day-a-year ice cream person. I don’t like cold teeth. But I like it in the summertime! And up until about 7 years ago, I was a flavor purist. Only Vanilla for me. Then I went to a meeting at work (different company, same idea). Some geeky tech guy was droning on and on and ON about a server migration and database integration and oh, I don't know. Zzzzzzz...
I had no business being in that meeting, but they said there would be ice cream. So I went and I was introduced to Heaven on a Spoon: aka Dulce de Leche.
Salty, sweetie, rich'n'creamy goodness! Since then, plain Vanilla just won’t do.
Anyway, back to the taste test…
It’s a little difficult to do a BLIND test when you’ve bought the ice cream, and you’ve scooped the ice cream, and you’re the only one tasting the ice cream. I was in a pickle. So right after assembling my plate of “mystery” flavors (plus a palette cleanser of -- you guessed it -- plain Vanilla), I emptied the dishwasher.
I hope I also symbolically emptied my mind of the order I scooped in.
Grab a spoon and let's dig into the rankings:
RANKED #1: Talenti Sea Salt Caramel Gelato
Texture: Rich
Ice Cream: Bold caramel-flavored with a hint of salt
Caramel: Chocolate-covered caramel chunks
Calories: 240
Total Fat: 11g
Why?: Oh wow. This guy had BIG caramel taste with a good amount of chocolate-covered caramel candies sprinkled in. Salty. Yummy. It didn't last the night. (And this is the brand we ate in the meeting, btw -- our editors sure can pick 'em!)
RANKED #2: Edy’s Slow Churned Caramel Delight Low Fat Ice Cream
Texture: Easy to scoop, right out of the freezer
Ice Cream: Vanilla
Caramel: Lots of blobs throughout
Calories: 110
Total Fat: 2g
Why?: Try not to lick the screen. Lots of caramel blobs, obviously, easy on the wrist -- and the waist. Did you SEE the calories and fat? I might eat the whole tub, then wear it as a hat.
RANKED #3: Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra Ice Cream
Texture: Hard
Ice Cream: Vanilla and chocolate with dark chocolate chunks
Caramel: Tunnel in the middle
Calories: 260
Total Fat: 14g
Why?: This one's annoying. There is a fat caramel tunnel in the middle. Excellent. It is surrounded by chocolate and vanilla ice creams, which is fine if you like chocolate ice cream. Which I do not. (Oh relax.)
RANKED #4: Breyers Dulce de Leche Frozen Dairy Dessert
Texture: Creamy
Ice Cream: Vanilla
Caramel: Small swirls
Calories: 130
Total Fat: 3g
Why: Isn't that a lovely scoop? This one had caramel flavor throughout but skimped on the caramel swirls. That's the best part! It also weirds me out that this is called a "frozen dairy dessert." What the eff is that?
RANKED #5: Haagen-Dazs Dulce de Leche All Natural Ice Cream
Texture: Smooth
Ice Cream: Mild caramel flavor
Caramel: Microscopic swirls
Calories: 270
Total Fat: 16g
Why: The one that started my love affair with this flavor was disappointing by comparison. I remember this being so much better! They totally phoned it in. Not worth the fat. PS: Did you know this name is fake?
So, hopefully I have spared you the shame of having the check-out clerk at your local grocery store give you the stink eye when she sees a basket filled with FIVE ice creams of the same flavor.
Go with #1 (or #2) on this list and simply say, “I’ll have what SHE’S having.” (RIP Nora Ephron)
Wait… can you hear that?
It’s the Ice Cream Man, ding-a-ling! Run over to the comments and shout out YOUR favorite flavor below.
tags: food, work
Since I work for a food site, it’s not unusual for us to have fun treats in meetings. (Tough life, I know.)
The other day, we had tons of ice cream that I’d never seen before with exotic flavors like Sea Salt Caramel, Banana Chocolate Swirl, Blood Orange, and Sicilian Pistachio.
You had me at Caramel.
Since it’s about 1,000 degrees outside, after work that day I shamefully slipped into the Dirty Gristedes across the street from my apt on a mission to cool off. It is gross, but it is also close and I feared melting into the pavement if I walked one. More. Block.
I was in search of this mysterious brand we ate, and lo and behold, Dirty Gristedes had a whole mess of this fancy stuff, slumming it next to what looked like a half-eaten Chubby Hubby.
Bingo.
While I was shoulder-deep in the freezer case, I had an idea. What if I did an ice cream blind taste test? Genius! Until I realized it would cost me about $50 AND I would be left alone in my apt with a fridge-full of ice cream.
What if I ate it all and then I couldn't fit through the door?
Whatever. I was delirious from the heat and there's a fire department around the corner, so I grabbed a basket and went to town.
Now, I’m not a 365-day-a-year ice cream person. I don’t like cold teeth. But I like it in the summertime! And up until about 7 years ago, I was a flavor purist. Only Vanilla for me. Then I went to a meeting at work (different company, same idea). Some geeky tech guy was droning on and on and ON about a server migration and database integration and oh, I don't know. Zzzzzzz...
I had no business being in that meeting, but they said there would be ice cream. So I went and I was introduced to Heaven on a Spoon: aka Dulce de Leche.
Salty, sweetie, rich'n'creamy goodness! Since then, plain Vanilla just won’t do.
Anyway, back to the taste test…
It’s a little difficult to do a BLIND test when you’ve bought the ice cream, and you’ve scooped the ice cream, and you’re the only one tasting the ice cream. I was in a pickle. So right after assembling my plate of “mystery” flavors (plus a palette cleanser of -- you guessed it -- plain Vanilla), I emptied the dishwasher.
I hope I also symbolically emptied my mind of the order I scooped in.
Grab a spoon and let's dig into the rankings:
RANKED #1: Talenti Sea Salt Caramel Gelato
Texture: Rich
Ice Cream: Bold caramel-flavored with a hint of salt
Caramel: Chocolate-covered caramel chunks
Calories: 240
Total Fat: 11g
Why?: Oh wow. This guy had BIG caramel taste with a good amount of chocolate-covered caramel candies sprinkled in. Salty. Yummy. It didn't last the night. (And this is the brand we ate in the meeting, btw -- our editors sure can pick 'em!)
RANKED #2: Edy’s Slow Churned Caramel Delight Low Fat Ice Cream
Texture: Easy to scoop, right out of the freezer
Ice Cream: Vanilla
Caramel: Lots of blobs throughout
Calories: 110
Total Fat: 2g
Why?: Try not to lick the screen. Lots of caramel blobs, obviously, easy on the wrist -- and the waist. Did you SEE the calories and fat? I might eat the whole tub, then wear it as a hat.
RANKED #3: Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra Ice Cream
Texture: Hard
Ice Cream: Vanilla and chocolate with dark chocolate chunks
Caramel: Tunnel in the middle
Calories: 260
Total Fat: 14g
Why?: This one's annoying. There is a fat caramel tunnel in the middle. Excellent. It is surrounded by chocolate and vanilla ice creams, which is fine if you like chocolate ice cream. Which I do not. (Oh relax.)
RANKED #4: Breyers Dulce de Leche Frozen Dairy Dessert
Texture: Creamy
Ice Cream: Vanilla
Caramel: Small swirls
Calories: 130
Total Fat: 3g
Why: Isn't that a lovely scoop? This one had caramel flavor throughout but skimped on the caramel swirls. That's the best part! It also weirds me out that this is called a "frozen dairy dessert." What the eff is that?
RANKED #5: Haagen-Dazs Dulce de Leche All Natural Ice Cream
Texture: Smooth
Ice Cream: Mild caramel flavor
Caramel: Microscopic swirls
Calories: 270
Total Fat: 16g
Why: The one that started my love affair with this flavor was disappointing by comparison. I remember this being so much better! They totally phoned it in. Not worth the fat. PS: Did you know this name is fake?
So, hopefully I have spared you the shame of having the check-out clerk at your local grocery store give you the stink eye when she sees a basket filled with FIVE ice creams of the same flavor.
Go with #1 (or #2) on this list and simply say, “I’ll have what SHE’S having.” (RIP Nora Ephron)
Wait… can you hear that?
It’s the Ice Cream Man, ding-a-ling! Run over to the comments and shout out YOUR favorite flavor below.
tags: food, work
6/23/2012
Five Reasons I’m Glad Dallas Is Back
My mom has all 14 seasons of the original Dallas on DVD, PLUS 3 barely watchable made-for-TV movies. I know this because I got most of them for her, and we’ve seen every single Southfork-loving second.
If you can’t remember Dallas, you are too young to be reading this blog. I’m sure there’s a Lunchable in the fridge with your name on it. Go find it.
And save the fruit rollup for me.
For the rest of us grown-ups who’ve been to this rodeo before, but plumb forgot who shot JR or why Bobby’s death was a dream, here’s what y’all need to know:
It started in 1978. I was 5.
The story revolved around the Ewings, a filthy rich Texas family in the oil and ranching business. Miss Ellie and leathery Jock had 3 sons: JR, Bobby, and Gary (who was boring and got shipped off to Knots Landing). Oh, and cranky ranch hand Ray Krebs was a half-brother with a snaggletooth. Oil-baron JR married Sue Ellen, a former Miss Texas and the original desperate housewife. When he wasn’t busy cheating on her with anything that moved, he was locking her up in rehab for the raging alcoholism that his cheating brought on. Sweet. Somewhere in there they had a kid, John Ross, who was a chip off the old saddle. Bobby had an enormous head, but was probably a hottie for his time. His first love was Pam, but she was the daughter of the Ewing’s arch-enemy, drunk wildcatter, Digger Barnes. Her brother, Cliff, was all hat, no cattle -- spending his whole life miserably trying to one-up JR. He also ate nothing but Chinese takeout. Pammy's womb was dry as an abandoned oil well, so they adopted Christopher, who never quite measured up to the Ewing name.
Then a bunch of other stuff happened because they had 14 whole seasons to fill.
Dallas was synonymous with cliffhangers, backstabbers, schemers, womanizers, cheaters, secrets, shoulder pads, and huge hair. Could the new one hold a candle? After all, you can put your boots in the oven, but that don’t make ‘em biscuits!
Well, I'm happy to report, it lives up to the legacy. Here’s 5 reasons I’m headed to The Big D every Wednesday night:
1. The show is actually GOOD -- the way pimiento cheese is good.
2. Most of the principal actors (minus, of course, Victoria “Too Cool for School” Principal) are back in all their gray and wrinkly glory. Miss Ellie didn’t raise no fools!
3. JR, and his eyebrows, are a force of nature. Don’t let his new-found love of nursing home Jell-O fool you. Those brows look like devil horns. He’s up to no good, just the way we like it.
4. The one-liners are still delicious: “Blood's thicker than water, but oil's thicker than both.” Yee-haw!
5. New Christopher (Jesse Metcalfe) is easy on the eyes. Just ignore his non-southern accent and the fact that he’s been in a lab in Asia researching alternative energy solutions (seriously, making an entire season a dream was more believable than this).
Still not up for the trip to the Lone Star State? Well, GET in the mood with the theme song. You are dead inside if this doesn’t set your toes tapping:
Turns out you CAN go home again! Now, fix yourself a Bourbon & Branch and kick your boots off.
Who knows what JR’s eyebrows will do next…
So, will YOU be watching? Are you Team JR or Team Bobby? Spill yer guts below...
tags: entertainment
If you can’t remember Dallas, you are too young to be reading this blog. I’m sure there’s a Lunchable in the fridge with your name on it. Go find it.
And save the fruit rollup for me.
For the rest of us grown-ups who’ve been to this rodeo before, but plumb forgot who shot JR or why Bobby’s death was a dream, here’s what y’all need to know:
It started in 1978. I was 5.
The story revolved around the Ewings, a filthy rich Texas family in the oil and ranching business. Miss Ellie and leathery Jock had 3 sons: JR, Bobby, and Gary (who was boring and got shipped off to Knots Landing). Oh, and cranky ranch hand Ray Krebs was a half-brother with a snaggletooth. Oil-baron JR married Sue Ellen, a former Miss Texas and the original desperate housewife. When he wasn’t busy cheating on her with anything that moved, he was locking her up in rehab for the raging alcoholism that his cheating brought on. Sweet. Somewhere in there they had a kid, John Ross, who was a chip off the old saddle. Bobby had an enormous head, but was probably a hottie for his time. His first love was Pam, but she was the daughter of the Ewing’s arch-enemy, drunk wildcatter, Digger Barnes. Her brother, Cliff, was all hat, no cattle -- spending his whole life miserably trying to one-up JR. He also ate nothing but Chinese takeout. Pammy's womb was dry as an abandoned oil well, so they adopted Christopher, who never quite measured up to the Ewing name.
Then a bunch of other stuff happened because they had 14 whole seasons to fill.
Dallas was synonymous with cliffhangers, backstabbers, schemers, womanizers, cheaters, secrets, shoulder pads, and huge hair. Could the new one hold a candle? After all, you can put your boots in the oven, but that don’t make ‘em biscuits!
Well, I'm happy to report, it lives up to the legacy. Here’s 5 reasons I’m headed to The Big D every Wednesday night:
1. The show is actually GOOD -- the way pimiento cheese is good.
2. Most of the principal actors (minus, of course, Victoria “Too Cool for School” Principal) are back in all their gray and wrinkly glory. Miss Ellie didn’t raise no fools!
3. JR, and his eyebrows, are a force of nature. Don’t let his new-found love of nursing home Jell-O fool you. Those brows look like devil horns. He’s up to no good, just the way we like it.
4. The one-liners are still delicious: “Blood's thicker than water, but oil's thicker than both.” Yee-haw!
5. New Christopher (Jesse Metcalfe) is easy on the eyes. Just ignore his non-southern accent and the fact that he’s been in a lab in Asia researching alternative energy solutions (seriously, making an entire season a dream was more believable than this).
Still not up for the trip to the Lone Star State? Well, GET in the mood with the theme song. You are dead inside if this doesn’t set your toes tapping:
Turns out you CAN go home again! Now, fix yourself a Bourbon & Branch and kick your boots off.
Who knows what JR’s eyebrows will do next…
So, will YOU be watching? Are you Team JR or Team Bobby? Spill yer guts below...
tags: entertainment
6/13/2012
I Heart Andy Cohen
I was in Del Boca Vista last week, which gave me the chance to plow through a new book on the plane, while I was trying to ignore the strange man to my left. Of course, I turned to housewife porn.
No, no, not the one you're thinking of! I only have eyes for Most Talkative, by Bravo network exec/TV host, Andrew "Andy" Cohen.
I also came to a realization: When I grow up, I'd like to be a gay, Jewish boy from St. Louis.
Andy's had a pretty amazing career in journalism, but it's his Kingdom of Reality TV that turns me absolutely green with envy. After all, this is the guy that brought us Project Runway, Top Chef, Flipping Out, and each and every season of The Real Housewives, which I have watched religiously.
I consider myself a connoisseur of this genre, having seen all the mainstays: Amazing Race, American Idol, Apprentice, Bachelor, Bachelorette, Big Brother, Cake Boss, Dancing with the Stars, Design Star, Extreme Makeover, Hell's Kitchen, House Hunters, Next Food Network Star, Project Greenlight, Project Runway, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Real Housewives, Real World, So You Think You Can Dance, Survivor, Top Chef, Top Model, Trading Spaces, and The Voice.
Hell, I've even watched thesetrainwrecks gems: Average Joe, the Anna Nicole Show, Bachelor Pad, Beauty and the Geek, Bethenny Getting Married, Blow Out, Boy Meets Boy, Celebrity Rehab, Chopped, Cupcake Wars, Dance Moms, Dogs in the City, Extreme Couponing, Fashion Star, Flipping Out, For Love or Money, Gigolos, Glee Project, Great Food Truck Race, High School Reunion, Hoarders, I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here, Jersey Shore, Jerseylicious, Joe Millionaire, Joe Schmo Show, Laguna Beach, The Hills, The City, Love Cruise, Love in the Wild, Man vs. Food, Masterchef, Million Dollar Listing, Millionaire Matchmaker, Mob Wives, The Mole, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance, My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss, My Strange Addiction, The Osbournes, Paradise Hotel, Pregnant in Heels, The Restaurant, Road Rules, Rockstar INXS, Shahs of Sunset, Shark Tank, Shear Genius, Simple Life, Skating with Celebrities, Sorority Life, Surreal Life, The Swan, Tabitha's Salon Takeover, Take Me Out, Tardy for the Wedding, Temptation Island, Undercover Boss, Wife Swap, Work Out, Work of Art, and Worst Cooks in America.
I've got a PhD in reality. Some might say I need a life. But why, when I can live vicariously through all these crazies?
Anyway, if you don't watch Andy's late-nite talk show, Watch What Happens Live, you're missing out. It's pure escapist fun. He's breezy and goofy, but not afraid to stir a steamy gossip pot. The cocktails Andy and guests guzzle during every episode (especially on Shotski Wednesday) also help lubricate the conversation.
So in the spirit of the show, here's what 3 things I'm obsessed with:
My Jackhole of the day goes to: Ralph Fiennes who came to a pajama party in the WWHL Clubhouse and beat Andy senseless with a pillow. That dude has some anger.
So, do YOU love Andy like I do? Are you a reality fan or foe? Comment below...
PS: Andy, if you've ever in the market for an unknown guest bartender from Jersey, call me! But only on Bud Platinum night. I can't mix a cocktail to save my life, but I can pour a mean beer.
PPS: The secret word of the day was "Andy" -- and if you took a cross-eyed sip of your Sangria every time I wrote it (13)... you'd be barfing in your sombrero.
tags: entertainment, pop culture
No, no, not the one you're thinking of! I only have eyes for Most Talkative, by Bravo network exec/TV host, Andrew "Andy" Cohen.
I also came to a realization: When I grow up, I'd like to be a gay, Jewish boy from St. Louis.
Andy's had a pretty amazing career in journalism, but it's his Kingdom of Reality TV that turns me absolutely green with envy. After all, this is the guy that brought us Project Runway, Top Chef, Flipping Out, and each and every season of The Real Housewives, which I have watched religiously.
I consider myself a connoisseur of this genre, having seen all the mainstays: Amazing Race, American Idol, Apprentice, Bachelor, Bachelorette, Big Brother, Cake Boss, Dancing with the Stars, Design Star, Extreme Makeover, Hell's Kitchen, House Hunters, Next Food Network Star, Project Greenlight, Project Runway, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Real Housewives, Real World, So You Think You Can Dance, Survivor, Top Chef, Top Model, Trading Spaces, and The Voice.
Hell, I've even watched these
I've got a PhD in reality. Some might say I need a life. But why, when I can live vicariously through all these crazies?
Anyway, if you don't watch Andy's late-nite talk show, Watch What Happens Live, you're missing out. It's pure escapist fun. He's breezy and goofy, but not afraid to stir a steamy gossip pot. The cocktails Andy and guests guzzle during every episode (especially on Shotski Wednesday) also help lubricate the conversation.
So in the spirit of the show, here's what 3 things I'm obsessed with:
- Andy loves pop culture. Natalie and Tootie from Facts of Life as guests? I've died and gone to heaven.
- Andy loves drama. Teresa Guidice can shove him. Tamra Barney can kiss him. He's unflappable.
- Andy loves reality TV. This suit is an actual fan of the shows his network runs. How refreshing!
- If I was a Real Housewife, my catch phrase would be: You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can NOT take the Jersey out of me. (said while coyly pointing to my imaginary tramp stamp in the shape of the state)
- If anyone could play me on a made for TV movie, I would choose: Tiffani (hold the Amber) Thiessen. There simply is no substitute.
- Who will I vote for in the 2012 Presidential election: I plead the fifth!
My Jackhole of the day goes to: Ralph Fiennes who came to a pajama party in the WWHL Clubhouse and beat Andy senseless with a pillow. That dude has some anger.
So, do YOU love Andy like I do? Are you a reality fan or foe? Comment below...
PS: Andy, if you've ever in the market for an unknown guest bartender from Jersey, call me! But only on Bud Platinum night. I can't mix a cocktail to save my life, but I can pour a mean beer.
PPS: The secret word of the day was "Andy" -- and if you took a cross-eyed sip of your Sangria every time I wrote it (13)... you'd be barfing in your sombrero.
tags: entertainment, pop culture
5/29/2012
Something Foul Is Afoot
The unofficial start to summer is upon us, and that can mean only one thing.
Feet.
Sure, it ALSO means sunshine and ice cream, sprinklers and rainbows. But mostly, it’s time to unleash your pasty white dogs. This is my least favorite aspect of the season.
Let's face facts: Most of us should never allow our feet to see the light of day.
Case in point: I got in the elevator the other day at work, next to a guy in Tevas. I won’t go into all the things wrong with that statement, except to say that the posh company I work for is also home to the world’s top fashion magazines.
Frankly, I’m amazed he made it past security in those sweaty hogs.
Anyway, his feet were crazy looking. I've never seen anything like them.
His toes were so flat and spread apart that you could literally fit another toe inbetween each one. It’s like they knew how ugly they looked, they got scared, they tried to get as far away from the next one as possible, and then they all got run over by a truck.
But the worst part was his toenails. They were approximately 64% longer than my fingernails.
Hey, could someone hold my hair for a sec?
BARF.
Anyway, it’s no wonder he had sandals on, because there is no way regular shoes could contain those funky toes.
In light of this unwanted encounter, I feel I am doing a public service by addressing summer feet now, before they get totally out of hand.
For the love of Dr. Scholl, hide your peds if they fit ANY of the following categories:
>> Frat Feet: are covered in bar sludge/beer from the night before
>> Jesus Feet: have dirty soles from walking barefoot in public
>> Middle Finger Feet: have a 2nd toe that is longer than the big toe
>> Shrimp Cocktail Feet: have toes that curl under from being jammed into small shoes
>> Nibble Feet: have toenails that look chewed on
>> Athlete Feet: have black and/or missing toenails
>> Troll Feet: are disfigured by bunions or corns
>> Ogre Feet: (see Troll Feet, add toe jam)
>> Finger Toes Feet: are so long they look like they could hold a knife and fork
>> Bearded Feet: are hairy
>> Weepy Feet: have so much chipped polish they are crying out for a pedicure
>> Sock Booger Feet: have pieces of lint stuck to them, lodged between toes
>> Smeet: are smelly feet
Be thankful I spared you a picture of my own feet in this post and went with my sandals instead. Nobody needs to see that, primarily because my feet fit no less than 3 of the categories above (Middle Finger + Shrimp Cocktail + Troll).
Embarrassing, but true.
Are you close-minded about open-toed shoes? Kick your foot phobias below (toe-suckers need not reply -- save YOUR fetishes for a shrink).
PS: NEVER EVER EVER do a Google image search for feet. I can't even. Just trust me. Don't.
tags: gross
Feet.
Sure, it ALSO means sunshine and ice cream, sprinklers and rainbows. But mostly, it’s time to unleash your pasty white dogs. This is my least favorite aspect of the season.
Let's face facts: Most of us should never allow our feet to see the light of day.
Case in point: I got in the elevator the other day at work, next to a guy in Tevas. I won’t go into all the things wrong with that statement, except to say that the posh company I work for is also home to the world’s top fashion magazines.
Frankly, I’m amazed he made it past security in those sweaty hogs.
Anyway, his feet were crazy looking. I've never seen anything like them.
His toes were so flat and spread apart that you could literally fit another toe inbetween each one. It’s like they knew how ugly they looked, they got scared, they tried to get as far away from the next one as possible, and then they all got run over by a truck.
But the worst part was his toenails. They were approximately 64% longer than my fingernails.
Hey, could someone hold my hair for a sec?
BARF.
Anyway, it’s no wonder he had sandals on, because there is no way regular shoes could contain those funky toes.
In light of this unwanted encounter, I feel I am doing a public service by addressing summer feet now, before they get totally out of hand.
For the love of Dr. Scholl, hide your peds if they fit ANY of the following categories:
>> Frat Feet: are covered in bar sludge/beer from the night before
>> Jesus Feet: have dirty soles from walking barefoot in public
>> Middle Finger Feet: have a 2nd toe that is longer than the big toe
>> Shrimp Cocktail Feet: have toes that curl under from being jammed into small shoes
>> Nibble Feet: have toenails that look chewed on
>> Athlete Feet: have black and/or missing toenails
>> Troll Feet: are disfigured by bunions or corns
>> Ogre Feet: (see Troll Feet, add toe jam)
>> Finger Toes Feet: are so long they look like they could hold a knife and fork
>> Bearded Feet: are hairy
>> Weepy Feet: have so much chipped polish they are crying out for a pedicure
>> Sock Booger Feet: have pieces of lint stuck to them, lodged between toes
>> Smeet: are smelly feet
Be thankful I spared you a picture of my own feet in this post and went with my sandals instead. Nobody needs to see that, primarily because my feet fit no less than 3 of the categories above (Middle Finger + Shrimp Cocktail + Troll).
Embarrassing, but true.
Are you close-minded about open-toed shoes? Kick your foot phobias below (toe-suckers need not reply -- save YOUR fetishes for a shrink).
PS: NEVER EVER EVER do a Google image search for feet. I can't even. Just trust me. Don't.
tags: gross
5/23/2012
Flight Plan
I’ve taken a bunch of trips over the last month – Los Angeles, Atlanta, and of course, Del Boca Vista. That's over 9K miles flown on Delta, American, United, and my beloved Jet Blue.
All this time in the sky has reminded me how much I love to travel. And how I really need to get my 50 state road trip back on track so my buddy, Jodi, and I can explore another new city.
And, how neurotic I can be.
Surely it can’t come as a surprise that the girl who has a pre-date ritual which involves dumping (clean) undies on her couch, might also pack a few quirks in her carryon…
For instance, I lay everything out 2 days before every trip so I have at least 1 day to remember the things I forgot. Also, I’d sooner ride in the luggage compartment than check a bag.
Ok, that doesn’t sound too bad. Still within the range of normal, right?
Now, run these through your security scanner:
In the Air:
These are just the things I'm aware of. Imagine all the things I don't even know I'm doing!
So, am I flying solo on this? Do YOU step off the plane and scrub your skin raw with antibacterial soap and a wire BBQ brush?
Check YOUR travel neuroses below...
tags: travel
All this time in the sky has reminded me how much I love to travel. And how I really need to get my 50 state road trip back on track so my buddy, Jodi, and I can explore another new city.
And, how neurotic I can be.
Surely it can’t come as a surprise that the girl who has a pre-date ritual which involves dumping (clean) undies on her couch, might also pack a few quirks in her carryon…
For instance, I lay everything out 2 days before every trip so I have at least 1 day to remember the things I forgot. Also, I’d sooner ride in the luggage compartment than check a bag.
Ok, that doesn’t sound too bad. Still within the range of normal, right?
Now, run these through your security scanner:
In the Air:
- I require a window seat, because I hate getting up for people
- I am afraid that if I get up and walk around the plane, my weight will throw it off its course and we’ll go down
- I avoid going to the restroom because I fear a change in cabin pressure will suction my ass to the seat
- I avoid talking to the person sitting next to me
- I am incapable of sleeping in public, so I never nap on planes
- I don’t ever drink alcohol in-flight because I feel I need my wits about me at all times
- I never touch the tray or the materials in the seat pocket because I’m convinced they are covered in microscopic fecal matter
- I immediately strip the bed of blankets, throw pillows, and anything else not regularly washed
- I inspect every inch of the bed and the shower for stray hairs
- I order extra towels, as I require a minimum of 3 bath towels after I shower
- I locate the hairdryer and check the accuracy of the clock on the nightstand
- I grab a glass, but I never drink out of it – I use it to hold my jewelry
- My bare feet never touch the floor. NEVER.
- I disinfect the remote (oh my Lord of the Rings, you do NOT want to know what lurks on those buttons)
- I check the adjoining room lock(s) and flip the latch on my door so no one can ambush me in the middle of the night
- I read the room service menu, even if I’m not ordering, so I know what food I can get in a hunger emergency
These are just the things I'm aware of. Imagine all the things I don't even know I'm doing!
So, am I flying solo on this? Do YOU step off the plane and scrub your skin raw with antibacterial soap and a wire BBQ brush?
Check YOUR travel neuroses below...
tags: travel
5/12/2012
The Social Butterfly
When I was in the 1st grade, my teacher, Mrs. Buzinky, told my parents I was a good student. Her only complaint was, “Jenny is a social butterfly.”
It was the same with Mrs. Tubbs in the 4th grade. And with Mrs. Barbarise in the 5th grade. And with Miss Kaminski in the 7th grade. And with Mrs. Kain in the 10th grade. And with Father Mayzik sophomore year in college.
Vocal. Talkative. Chatty. Motormouth.
That’s me.
I guess that's why I started this blog. It gives me a place to talk about my favorite subject: Myself.
But I am not someone who grew up with a computer. I went through high school and college with a dinky Smith Corona Personal Word Processor (a fancy way of saying electric typewriter). It had a screen that displayed 8 lines at a time. The modern-day equivalent of writing essays via text message.
I still remember the first computer I ever bought. It was 1995, I’d just graduated from college, and although I didn’t have a job quite yet, I DID have a shiny new credit card whispering in my ear... charge it!
So I did.
And for all I know, I’m still paying for it. It was a Gateway, it came in a box that looked like a cow, and it weighed 100lbs. I taught myself to use it and my inner geek was instantly smitten.
When I did get a job later that summer, only ONE computer in my entire office was connected to the Internet. Today -- 3 desktops, 2 laptops, 4 wireless routers, 2 blogs, 7 social networks, 2 smartphones, 1 connected TV, and a tablet later -- I have crossed the final frontier (until they create a new one that involves holograms and/or smell-o-vision).
I bought my own URL.
It’s not like I thought someone would steal it – while my first name's a dime a dozen, my last name is pretty rare. I think there’s only 1 other girl in the WORLD who has it – she friended me once on Facebook in a total Twilight Zone moment. She’s about half my age, lives in France, smokes, has multiple piercings and tattoos, and a boyfriend who is a DJ. Soon after, she changed her name to a French obscenity and unfriended me.
We’re like twins.
In fact, I was inspired by an ACTUAL friend, who writes a really helpful blog. His most recent post was on all the reasons you should own your own name. Huh. He made a compelling argument. I’ve worked in digital for the past 12 years -- how could I NOT own my own domain?
Luckily, he’s also an excellent teacher so he created a step-by-step guide to follow. In about 20 minutes (which included time spent rooting around in 3 different handbags for my wallet), I was up and running.
It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a good place to keep track of all the networks this social butterfly frequents. And it ensures nobody will confuse me with little Jenny Merde.
Oohlala.
PS: Social butterflies like company! Follow me, I will follow you (unless you’re creepy, then you’re on your own):
Facebook
Twitter
LinkedIn
Google+
Tumblr
Foursquare
Pinterest (my personal fave)
tags: polls, technology, work
It was the same with Mrs. Tubbs in the 4th grade. And with Mrs. Barbarise in the 5th grade. And with Miss Kaminski in the 7th grade. And with Mrs. Kain in the 10th grade. And with Father Mayzik sophomore year in college.
Vocal. Talkative. Chatty. Motormouth.
That’s me.
I guess that's why I started this blog. It gives me a place to talk about my favorite subject: Myself.
But I am not someone who grew up with a computer. I went through high school and college with a dinky Smith Corona Personal Word Processor (a fancy way of saying electric typewriter). It had a screen that displayed 8 lines at a time. The modern-day equivalent of writing essays via text message.
I still remember the first computer I ever bought. It was 1995, I’d just graduated from college, and although I didn’t have a job quite yet, I DID have a shiny new credit card whispering in my ear... charge it!
So I did.
And for all I know, I’m still paying for it. It was a Gateway, it came in a box that looked like a cow, and it weighed 100lbs. I taught myself to use it and my inner geek was instantly smitten.
When I did get a job later that summer, only ONE computer in my entire office was connected to the Internet. Today -- 3 desktops, 2 laptops, 4 wireless routers, 2 blogs, 7 social networks, 2 smartphones, 1 connected TV, and a tablet later -- I have crossed the final frontier (until they create a new one that involves holograms and/or smell-o-vision).
I bought my own URL.
It’s not like I thought someone would steal it – while my first name's a dime a dozen, my last name is pretty rare. I think there’s only 1 other girl in the WORLD who has it – she friended me once on Facebook in a total Twilight Zone moment. She’s about half my age, lives in France, smokes, has multiple piercings and tattoos, and a boyfriend who is a DJ. Soon after, she changed her name to a French obscenity and unfriended me.
We’re like twins.
In fact, I was inspired by an ACTUAL friend, who writes a really helpful blog. His most recent post was on all the reasons you should own your own name. Huh. He made a compelling argument. I’ve worked in digital for the past 12 years -- how could I NOT own my own domain?
Luckily, he’s also an excellent teacher so he created a step-by-step guide to follow. In about 20 minutes (which included time spent rooting around in 3 different handbags for my wallet), I was up and running.
It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a good place to keep track of all the networks this social butterfly frequents. And it ensures nobody will confuse me with little Jenny Merde.
Oohlala.
PS: Social butterflies like company! Follow me, I will follow you (unless you’re creepy, then you’re on your own):
Google+
Tumblr
Foursquare
Pinterest (my personal fave)
tags: polls, technology, work
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)