You NEED this reminder!

Trust me: You really, REALLY need to read my guest post over at Ree's (aka The Hotfessional):

CLICK HERE.

You can thank me later.


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Foo-Koo

I really, really, really, really want the much-anticipated Momofuku cookbook, and not just because it's fun to say Momofuku*.



Any cookbook review that starts off with, "Chef David Chang's first cookbook is long, laced with profanity and full of complicated, labor-intensive recipes" is for me. I mean, c'mon.

Read the full review HERE.


*Momofuku is Japanese for lucky peach and also--in a nod to the inventor of instant noodles, Momofuku Ando--the name of a series of constantly-packed NYC restaurants by Korean-American chef David Chang.


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Outlawfully wed

Ladies (and some of you men out there):

I give* you Jesse James.

Would I like to gnaw on his biceps for a couple of hours? Yes, please.


He cleans up nicely, too. Rawr!



Click here to follow me on Twitter!


*It's more like I'm dangling him in front of you. You're welcome.

****

Scotchy scotch scotch

Click here to follow me on Twitter!


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Public Service Announcement: Black Friday and Everyday

My mom spent decades managing a group of Hallmark stores. I worked retail jobs all through high school, partway through college and for years afterward on weekends. It is hard work, not only physically, but also emotionally... especially this time of year.

1989. Working hard at the after school/weekend job. I just finished putting together that entire display with the one token dude we had working there. Lucky for me he was hot and a gentleman at that, so he did all the heavy lifting; because honey, trust me when I tell you that I spent entirely too much time on my hair that day to work up a sweat installing ornaments in freaking July. YES, July.

1989. The Hallmark Maven, aka Boss Lady. She will crack the whip, and not in a good way.

There are more days than I care to remember that after working an 8-hour shift during the holiday season, I'd get in my car & cry on the way home from not only being yelled at by many customers, but also from the searing pain in my feet, back and every muscle. The pain was so all-encompasing and downright awful that my co-workers & I would always refer to this scene from the Stephen King movie Misery after those ass-busting shifts:


Feeling like we'd been hobbled after working retail during the holidays was more common than not.


I say the following from experience:

• The customary response to "Thank you!" is "You're welcome!"

• The appropriate follow-up after YOU bump into someone else is "Pardon me!" or "Excuse me!" or anything besides rudely grunting as you barrel through their skeletal system.

• People working during any kind of Black Friday sale are likely overworked and often times, not treated very well by shoppers. If someone goes out of their way for you or does a great job, ask for their name (if they don't have a nametag on) and let their supervisor know as soon as possible. If not that day, call or send an e-mail the next day.

Be kind, especially near the end of the business day when they've been running around like chickens with their heads cut off in order to try and keep up with the demands of shoppers. You'd be surprised how far looking someone behind the counter in the eyes and smiling at them will go.


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Just as it happened (if only in my head) when I was a kid

When I was 11, we took a road trip to visit old friends of the family for Thanksgiving. So many moments from that holiday weekend are permanently etched into my brain that I could write a book, or at least a short story. For now, though, there's this:

We were in a big house with an extended family of people we referred to as our aunts, uncles and cousins even though they weren't blood relatives, and it was a blast. One night before dinner, all the kids (ages ranging from 11-19) were seated around the huge table laughing and carrying on. I specifically remember one of the older boys asking me about my boyfriend KC, whose picture I had just pulled out of the vinyl photo holder in my velcro wallet.

Just then, a mustachioed uncle cut through the dining room to get to the kitchen. Red-nosed and tipsy from wine, he tripped over our mascot, the family's golden retriever. As he bent down to see if the dog was okay, he said with slurred words and glassy eyes, "You have to really be sorry when apologizing to a dog, otherwise they know you're faking it. You reaaaaallly have to make some sweet love* to the dog. Or they'll know. That you're... hey, why are you all giggling?"

When I read this New Yorker column back in 2007, I was transported back to that night... in the very best way:

THE WISDOM OF CHILDREN, by Simon Rich
A Conversation at the Grownup Table, as Imagined at the Kids’ Table

MOM: Pass the wine, please. I want to become crazy.

DAD: O.K.

GRANDMOTHER: Did you see the politics? It made me angry.

DAD: Me, too. When it was over, I had sex.

UNCLE: I’m having sex right now.

DAD: We all are.

MOM: Let’s talk about which kid I like the best.

DAD: (laughing) You know, but you won’t tell.

MOM: If they ask me again, I might tell.

FRIEND FROM WORK: Hey, guess what! My voice is pretty loud!

DAD: (laughing) There are actual monsters in the world, but when my kids ask I pretend like there aren’t.

MOM: I’m angry! I’m angry all of a sudden!

DAD: I’m angry, too! We’re angry at each other!

MOM: Now everything is fine.

DAD: We just saw the PG-13 movie. It was so good.

MOM: There was a big sex.

FRIEND FROM WORK: I am the loudest! I am the loudest!

(Everybody laughs.)

MOM: I had a lot of wine, and now I’m crazy!

GRANDFATHER: Hey, do you guys know what God looks like?

ALL: Yes.

GRANDFATHER: Don’t tell the kids.

Happy Thanksgiving!

*Of course he didn't mean it like THAT, but we were a group of kids, and it was funny. In all honesty, I probably haven't matured one bit in the humor department since that night.

Source


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Yo! Edvard Munch...

Yo! Edvard Munch*... I'm happy for your painting skills & imma let you finish, but Oprah has the best SCREAM of all time. OF ALL TIME!!!!!!**


My favorite is when she introduces the cast of Friends with outstretched arms and a heartfelt, "Frrriends!!!"

I plan to be doing this ALL weekend whenever I see anybody I know. Furthermore, it is no exaggeration when I write that if someone made a video of every guest announcement Oprah has ever made on her show over the last 24 years, I would sit down and watch it several times.

*Related sidenote: His last name is pronounced "Monk", which I learned 13 years ago when interviewing for a museum gift store job and saying it like it's spelled. I got corrected on the pronunciation, screamed in embarrassment (on the inside) and then I got hired anyway.

**It's not too late for yet another Kanye West/Taylor Swift reference, is it?
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Words to live by

It is my hope that all young (and old!) girls get a chance to hear and understand and live by what Amy Poehler says at 1:29 in this video from the Glamour* Women of the Year awards:


Brilliance at 1:29

I couldn't agree more... make 'em work for it, girls!

Lucky for me, I have more funny men in my life than I can count on 10 hands. I really, really love you, funny men!


*I haven't so much as picked up a Glamour magazine since college, but I think Amy Poehler should get every award available just for being so cool, smart & funny...and for having a foxy, comedic-genius for a husband, though I assume having a foxy, comedic-genius for a husband is it's own reward.

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I'll let you figure out who is who

"BREAKING NEWS: What's Next for Oprah & You?"

If I had to guess, I'd say that one of us will continue living life as a billionaire and the other one will continue wondering why her dreams of getting tickets to the other one's "Favorite Things" show never came true.

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What are kidneys selling for these days, anyway?

Not only do I need that Chewbacca family portrait hanging in my living room, but I have coveted this charming, Jim Datz-illustrated Manhattan poster for far too long. The first printing of 500 sold out before I could get one, so I signed up for a second printing e-mail alert. Missed that one because I had to pay for something stupid, like my electric bill.



I got the 3rd printing e-mail alert yesterday. My disposable income of the past few months has been spent on that big project I have yet to tell you about, although I *suppose* that other people's genuine needs should come before my own "needs" anyway.

Now, who has some extra cash laying around taking up space? I have a kidney to sell that is just your size!


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Newton's Third Law of Motion

When you're behind a senior citizen who is fumbling through the motion of sliding her card through that payment machine at the register (due to a combination of painful-looking arthritic hands and the fact that she's from a different era, before slick technology took over everything), let me suggest that you conserve your energy.

Rolling your eyes, tapping your big black boots, sighing heavily, or going so far as to say, "C'mon! hurry up, lady!" under your breath--but loud enough for those of us behind you in line to hear--because she's not moving fast enough for you is either totally lost on the old person you're annoyed with or will make her even more nerve-wracked.

Be as irritated as you damn well please, but you best KEEP IT ON THE INSIDE because as you've just experienced-- if I'm around and you're acting like that-- I will step to you and you won't like it*.

Chances are that one day, you will be old and judging by your attitude, really lonely. BE A LITTLE BIT HUMAN.

If you can't handle that, tough guy, order your Arizona Iced Tea** online.

*Or maybe he did like it, because he actually apologized to her.

**For the record: I like Arizona Iced Tea. What I don't like are assholes.

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This is more a need than a want

I haven't seen Star Wars in at least 20 years, but man, oh man... I really want need one of these hanging in my living room:


Note the hairless cat!


I've already e-mailed the artist Maya Gohill to see how much prints will be. In the meantime, I'm looking for people interested in buying one of my kidneys, just in case it comes to that.

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'F' as in Phonetic

As someone whose last name ends with double f's, I grew up hearing my parents tell other people, "'f' as in Frank, 'f' as in Frank" whenever getting the spelling right was important. This comes up in life more often than you think, and there are certain letters in the alphabet that sound distinctly and consistently like another letter altogether. I can't tell you how many times I've run into lost reservations or communication errors simply because "'f', 'f'" sounds a lot like "'s', 's'".

Just about the time I hit college, I took on the "'f' as in Frank, 'f' as in Frank" thing... but over the years have decided to spice it up from time to time. It's all about avoiding monotony, really. I have actually used the following replacements for "Frank-Frank":

"'F' as in fo'shizzle, 'F' as in fo'shizzle"

"'F' as in festivus, 'F' as in for the restivus"

"'F' as in finger guns, 'F' as in finger guns... pew pew (childlike gun sounds)" (using this one when face-to-face with someone is most effective. I highly recommend putting it to use at fancy places, topping it all of with a little wink at the end.)

"'F' as in Fight Club, 'F' as in Fight Club... but we do not talk about Fight Club"

"'F' as in effing get this right, 'F' as in if you eff this up I will hunt you down in the darkness of night"

It's the little things that make me giggle.

When I saw The Unhelpful Phonetic Alphabet earlier today over at The Ragbag it made me laugh so 'f' as in freaking hard that I've only stopped long enough to share it with the rest of you!


I really, really wish my name had a 'd' in it so I could say, "'d' as in double-you".


I can already hear myself making reservations for Jeremy & I:

"Yes, Mr. & Mrs. Jeremy Piven. 'P' as in pneumonic, 'i' as in ichthyoacanthotoxism, 'v' as in vajayjay, 'e' as in effect, 'n' as in naughty."


Naughty, indeed!



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Define "Busy"

The list of reasons why I love my friends is as long as it is varied. The following email from my good friend Amy will illustrate one of the many reasons why I love her so much, and will perhaps tell you all you need to know about how we've remained friends for 17 years and counting*.

Yo, lady girl, I'm still waiting to hear if you had a chance to listen to that podcast and what you thought of it.

I know you're busy. Well, no, I don't know you're busy. I'm assuming you're busy, 'cause even I say I'm busy, when really I'm only just busy entertaining distractions and procrastinating. That's, then, not technically busy. It's just pretend busy. Not that you're pretending to be busy, maybe you'd even say you're not busy.

Boy, it's a lot of work having a one-sided conversation!

How are you?

Every line of that is from her, in one e-mail. I have kept it in my inbox, starred, just so every couple of months when I forget why I have it starred I can re-read it. Makes my day every time.

*Nobody's really counting. I mean, I counted but only just now, and merely for the purpose of accuracy/truth-telling.


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The foolproof, 4-step plan to finding my soul mate

I think this is a pretty rock-solid way to go about finding that one* special person to spend a lifetime of happiness with. Maybe I shouldn't be revealing my secrets in such a public forum without charging money, but the hell with it. I'm in a giving mood!

1. Whenever I'm sketching something out--be it for a design idea or any reason at all-- or if somebody else is sketching something out/doodling, OR if I find myself playing Pictionary with a group of people--which happens more often than you'd think-- I will at some point blurt out, "Baby Fish Mouth!"**

2. I pause to see if anyone laughs.

3. If so, I find out if he's laughing because: a) those 3 words sound funny together but he doesn't know what it's from, b) he thinks I have a head injury, or c) because he actually knows what movie scene the phrase is from and thinks it's funny, too.

4. If "a": I reenact the scene, reveal the movie and wait for his eyes to glaze over. Usually doesn't take long once he knows what movie the quote is from. Usually at this point, the other females in the room start talking about how that movie changed their lives in every way possible and all the dudes tune out.

If "b": I'm certainly not going to have a future with a guy who laughs when he thinks someone is has a head injury! On to the next!

If "c": I marry that man.

Foolproof, right? Easy peasy lemon squeezy***!



"BABY FISH MOUTH!"

Fun fact: My other favorite line in that scene is, "Draw something resembling anything!****"


*Or, you know, whatever. Maybe you plan on spending your lifetime with several. I'm not judging you, Elizabeth Taylor.
**I have been known to blurt out many movie quotes at all hours of the day in any situation. Single men, that is your cue to hit on me because obviously we have the same taste in movies.

***As said in the entertaining film, In the Loop, it's more like Difficult, Difficult, Lemon, Difficult!

****That one often gets tossed around by me & my graphic designer brethren as a benign insult during meetings with clients. Oh, designer inside jokes never get old!

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No offense to Amish people*

When I am having difficulty overcoming a big challenge of any kind, I imagine that my life depends on my ability to fully explain--without the use of any visual aides--the internet to Amish people.

After 5 minutes of that, everything seems easier.



*Not that Amish people will read this.

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Just call me "Dear Abby"

Just one example of the solid advice I come up with on-the-fly:


Friend: "He's taking me to a place where I have to wear a cocktail dress. I don't own a cocktail dress. Is it too early to tell him I'm more of an Arby's kind of gal?"

Me: "You gotta show him your class before you show him your ass."


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Once Upon a Saturday (at Eli's Cheesecake factory store)

I really did have these plans, and they really did get broken for that reason:

Totally worth it, too.



Did somebody say samples?


A few minutes later, after sampling the cheesecake on the tray next to the one pictured above, I sent out this tweet:

It happened again after I got it home, too. I am shameless.



We had lots of people to buy cheesecakes for.



Trunkload o'cheescake!

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Public Service Announcement: The difference between bad & good baby gifts

Before reading any further, take a deep breath.

Please remember that I have a good sense of humor, and know that I understand the idea of the joke for stuff like this, I really do. However, you'll never convince me that it's actually funny, or cute, or charming in any way:


So many questions, starting with why would you spend money on these kinds of things? and for who? and why?!

Take it in. "My Mom is Hot"? "My Dad's a HOTTIE"? Dumb. Do. Not. Buy.

The parents of my favorite twins are, to be sure, HOTTIES... but their kids don't need bibs embroidered with those sentiments, and it's not because they're too mature or uptight. When the 3 of us are together, most of our time is spent working as many "That's what he said/That's what she said" responses into a conversation as possible.

Being a good gift-giver takes thoughtfulness, time, research, and taking personality/likes into account. I pride myself on it. Finding the perfect gift for the people in my life offers up a satisfaction I can hardly describe, but if there is a word for smugness you keep to yourself*, that would be the exact feeling I get every time.

The following is the right move to make when your friends have kids. Trust. Especially if they're adorable twins**. What we have here are the girl and boy versions of "Conserve Water! Drink Chocolate Milk." t-shirts from Target. I bought them both too-adorable-for-words jeans from Target, too. His were just plain dark denim, and hers had that girly cut with pink embroidery on the cute pockets (which you can kind of see in the last photo):


©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.


©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.


One parting shot of little Miss Thang, working her new outfit from Aunt Julesie:

©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.

I didn't spent a truckload of cash, either. Both outfits (2 shirts + 2 jeans) cost less than $30 TOTAL.


*Though technically, by writing this post I'm no longer keeping it to myself!

**It's surprising how many people ask if they're identical. Identical twins are IDENTICAL, which means that if one is a boy and one is a girl, there is no scientifically possible way they could be.

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Today is a BIG day!

After 4 months of hard work on behalf of others (which I alluded to HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE), today is Stage 1 of sharing it with the surprise recipients.

By the time you read this, my friend/partner in this undertaking & I will have already made our presentation, while shedding some heartfelt tears with everyone in the room, after which we've no doubt moved on to high-fiving each other, laughing giddily from adrenaline/sleep deprivation and talking about how we can't believe we pulled it off while knocking back a couple of beverages, if you know what I'm saying. And I think you do.

I am beyond excited! More on this whole thing next week after I get back home and get some sleep.

Until then, I'll post daily about other things...but MAN OH MAN, there is a good story coming!

Somebody was Honkin' on Bobo, but it wasn't Steven Tyler

I love Aerosmith, but one of my friend LOVES Aerosmith. L-O-V-E-S, LOVES. Namely, Steven Tyler, though not in "that" way.

She emailed me on Monday with a link to an online article, quoting Joe Perry talking nonsensically to whoever would listen. He said he hadn't spoken to Steven in a minute, how that obviously means Steven has probably up & quit the band, and therefore Joe was gonna go right ahead and find a new singer for Aerosmith so they could keep right on touring.

Anyone who has seen their "Behind the Music" wouldn't doubt the last half of what he said. Joe Perry is ready to do EVERYTHING without Steven Tyler. I did have a hard time finding the truth in that first part; equating Steven's non-responsiveness to Perry as him quitting the band.

I replied to my friend with, "Steven hasn't even made any kind of official statement yet. Maybe Joe Perry could allow the man talk before holding auditions for new singer?!" Then, yesterday, she sent me a link to this short video of them on stage together at New York's Fillmore on Tuesday night. Just before performing, Tyler had something to say to everybody, with a very specific message for Joe Perry :


"I just want New York to know I'm not leaving Aerosmith and Joe Perry, you are a man of many colors, but I, motherf--ker, am a rainbow!"

He's a rainbow! Just like THESE GUYS!


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You are not forgotten

Today I wanted to thank all Veterans for your service and sacrifices, with much love and respect to each of you; but especially:

Dad
Willy Springer
Mike Pinksaw
Jim Leigh
Jim Carolyn
Dave Minto
Ron Clough

...and all the other top notch men of the 60th LCC Jungle Eaters; US Army.


Michael Kopaczewski, 1st Cavalry; US Army

James Wells, USS Theodore Roosevelt; US Navy

Roy Fenstermaker; US Navy

Tom Filz; US Army

Jeff Genner; US Army

***It is in your honor that I continue to adopt soldiers who are forging ahead in your tradition of excellence and bravery. You're all my heroes.****

If anyone is interested in adopting a soldier, you can find a number of websites through a simple internet search. The below hotlink is the one I have used to adopt no less than 30 soldiers over the past 4 years, and the one I still use today. The process is extremely straight-forward. The soldiers really just ask for basic things that we take for granted every day; like socks, soap, razors, deodorant, sunscreen...and pretty much anything at all you'd like to send them. It's a great thing for school teachers or scout leaders to involve kids in, as well.

I've found that what the soldiers crave and appreciate the most is a reminder that they haven't been forgotten; and the kindness of a stranger will work wonders for every one of them. What will end up surprising you the most is how much it does for YOU...

Click here: Operation AC: Adopt-A-Soldier


Thanks Dad!


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Worth 1000 Words

Or a gajillion dollars, not sure which.




As a child addict of Smokey & The Bandit and Cannonball Run movies, the awesomeness of this image is pretty much the only thing getting me through the past 2 weeks.


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AWOOGA!

My friends & I all watch Keeping up with the Kardashians. At first it was kind of as a joke, but there is just something about that entire family that turned us all into addicts. Bruce Jenner and the way he gets continually disrespected for one... but let's not go down that road, because I really like Bruce Jenner. Turns out I also kinda like everyone else in that crazy family; while simultaneously wanting to tell them all to shut the hell up.

Of the 3 sisters, Khloe has always been my favorite. She's seemingly the most down-to-earth one of the entire bunch (with the exception of brother Rob, but he's a dude and is hardly ever on the show) and says exactly what she's thinking exactly when she thinks it. There was an entire show based around how she was convinced she was adopted, stemming from how different from the rest of the family she's always been. I think she could totally hang out with my friends & I, while Kim, Kourtney and their mom Kris go spend money at Versace, is all I'm sayin'.

Last night was the big 2-hour Khloe & Lamar Odom engagement/wedding episode. Lamar, if you don't already know, is an L.A. Laker.

I usually don't really care about people's engagement/wedding rings. I mean, I will compliment you on yours and will genuinely be happy for you; but I'm not moved by the size of the rock on your finger. I know too many women who wear pretty rings but have ugly marriages. That's real talk right there.

So, when Lamar proposed to her and the camera focused on the ringbox, I actually had an unexpected eye-popping moment:


I have never had that reaction to a ring. Other things*? Yes. Jewelry? No.


Judge all you want about the fact that they got married only one month after they met... the man can sure pick out an engagement ring:


AWOOGA!

I don't know if the marriage will last, but diamonds? Diamonds are forever! Or so they say.


*Ask me about my 25th birthday sometime. Unless you're my parents. Then, don't.

photo source

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Weekend Girl Talk, Part 6: Hot like Fi-yah edition

Last week, my friend D. & I were on the phone when somebody rang her doorbell. She asked if she could call me right back, but I was heading out and told her we'd just finish our chatting sometime this weekend. Cut to earlier this afternoon when the phone rang and her name flashing on my caller I.D.

The only other things you should know before reading any further is that for the purpose of this post, I'm referring to her husband by his first initial, which is P.; that they once had a kitchen fire so bad the local firefighters showed up; and that they live in a really small town*.

D.: "Hi! Sorry about our conversation getting cut off so quickly last time, but there was a fireman at my door, and there wasn't even a fire!"

Me: "There was one AT YOUR DOOR for no good reason? I wish they came straight to my door! I need to move to a small town."

D.: "He was about 90 years old."

Me: "Interesting. I've never thought of firemen's hotness having an expiration date. Maybe that's because I've never seen one out of my target demographic, if you know what I'm sayin'. What was he doing there, anyway?"

D.: "Selling tickets!"

Me: "To what, his antique GUN SHOW?"

D.: "HA! No, it was for their fundraiser. I ended up just giving him $10, but after he left P. came downstairs & he said, 'Ten dollars isn't enough! Remember, we had a house fire once!' But, I was just trying to think fast, so I grabbed a $10 bill."

Me: "Well, maybe that'll teach them to start sending the young, smokin' hot ones out for fundraising. I'm surprised that isn't just a given. In fact, if they sent the hot ones out wearing tearaway pants & carrying a boom box with "Leave Your Hat On" cued up they'd get more money than they could handle. Of course, it would be all dollar bills."

D.: "Yeah! If they did that, I would've yelled up to P. that he needed to stay upstairs no matter what he heard going on down here."

Me: "P. would later wonder where all the money in the savings account had gone, and you could forever sleep soundly knowing it had all been for a good cause."

D., {sighing}: "I need to bring this idea up at the next town meeting."

Me: "You're welcome."

*It's so small that once, when D. had surgery, I called the local florist in her town to get flowers delivered. When the florist answered, I mentioned that my friend D... (used her entire first name-- but FIRST name only) was healing at home after surgery & I wanted to get her a cheerful arrangement, then answered the other questions the florist had, and went on to give my payment information. As we were getting ready to hang up, I realized something important had been left out of the information exchange and said, "Wait, don't you need her last name and address?". The florist said, "Oh, don't worry. I know D. and I know where they live!"


Want more Weekend Girl Talk? Click HERE!


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Oh, it's "magical" alright!

A few weeks ago, I was in the checkout line and saw this hanging to my right, in the section that should be marked, "Things you'll buy at the last minute in a misguided attempt to fill the void in your soul", but is actually marked "Gum".

For the record, I did NOT spend my hard-earned cash on this, I simply took a quick picture because I got such a kick out of it.

Ladies & Gents! May I present...

SQUIRMLES®, The Magical Pet



I was laughing when I took the picture, so it's a bit blurry. I'll go ahead and list a few of the "magical" things SQUIRMLES® can do!

1. Jump
2. Twist
3. Crawl... Magically in your hands!




It's so very magical that "You bring it to life!"

This is one of those things from the 70's that somebody decided to re-package and bring back in an attempt to rob our generation's children of their allowance by selling them what is really just a bloated pipe cleaner with googly-eyes attached to it.

MAGICAL!

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Happy birthday from moi to vous!

Today is (was!) my sister's birthday.


You know you're the bomb, even though you're way too happy in the morning (but good for you! Seriously... GOOD FOR YOU!!!!! Just keep that joy away from me before 10a.m.!) I'm so glad you're my sista! Happy birthday, FOOL!

I promise your birthday post next year will be more in depth, but for now, here's a fantastic video featuring your fave muppet, Miss Piggy!




With love from your sister, Fozzie Bear

Wocka! Wocka! Wocka!


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Everyone knows it's Ju-uuules!

Not only have I been putting in more hours at my job, the place where I get PAID MONEY to work, but I've also been working really hard (possibly harder on anything I've ever worked on in my life) on THIS SPECIAL PROJECT for the past few months.

I usually don't get a lot of sleep but as they* say, shit's been ridiculous lately.

Running on an average of 4 hours of sleep per night for an extended period of time is not good for anybody. I am exhausted. I look exhausted. My sanity is hanging on by an extremely thin thread these days.

I haven't been this physically worn out since college, though back then it was for different reasons. Uh, HELLO, late night photo labs, Wednesday night quarter tappers on Main Street, parties, and even studying sometimes... but mostly make out seshes with the boyfriend.

You probably already know that I'm not a morning person, and to allude in any way, shape or form that I am will put my friends & family in hysterics.

Allow me to clarify: I'm not a JERK in the morning, I just don't want to hear your STUPID sing-songy, happy to be awake before sunrise, whistling-while-you-butter-your-toast, DUMB VOICE aimed in my direction before I've had a chance to wash the shame from the night before out of my hair, okay? Can we shake on that forever and ever? Thanks. I love you.

Now that we're on the same page, you'll really understand how much I want to hug, love, and squeeze this new 7Up commercial starring Brad Garrett:



I literally, for really-real, sing that whole thing to myself at some point every morning (in my head! I don't want to hear my own dumb voice that early, either!) as I fumble around getting ready for work after only grabbing a few hours worth of sleep.

The part that cracks me up the most is, "Who's reaching out to tickle a horsey? Everyone knows it's Bra-aaad!"

Tickle a horsey?! I want whoever wrote that commercial to marry me right now! I do, I do, and I do.


*By "they", I mean "me".


****

Where The Paparazzi Are

DATE NIGHT! Jeremy took me to see "Where the Wild Things Are", but that may or may not have been because he thought it was a Joe Francis movie about the locations in which girls go wild.

Just kidding, Pivs only has eyes for me.

It was all good until those pesky paparazzi made themselves known. I swear, we can't go ANYWHERE. Sigh.


Now my mom is probably going to lecture me about how tacky it is to let your bra straps show, especially when they're green. THANKS, PAPARAZZI!


****

My quasi-FIL

My sister started stalking my brother-in-law like prey when they were in high school, so he's been around since I was in 11 and officially in the family by law since I was 13. With so many years of shared family history, his side of the family--though not technically my in-laws--are kinda my in-laws by proxy.

His dad is responsible for telling 2 of my favorite jokes of all time. These aren't typical jokey-jokes, but are more like little non-sequiturs that he said to me eons ago, that still make me laugh to myself whenever I think about them. I have told & retold them countless times, always saying first, "This is why I love Jim's dad..."

Sadly, in merely reading them, you're missing out on the twinkly-eyed man with a charming southern accent whispering them in your ear. Try to enjoy regardless:

"You don't know anything about how bad a bad date can be until you're the man at the square dance whose girlfriend hits the floor every time the announcer yells, "Hoedown"!"

Even though it's a little Jeff Foxworthy/Blue Collar Comedy Tour-ish (and there's no group of comedians I loathe more than those 4 dudes), I really think that is SO funny. It always puts my bad dates into perspective.

Before I type in my #1 favorite thing he's ever said, a little background. During a holiday visit about 16 years ago, he had a really bad cold and bought some cough drops that had the herbal ingredient horehound in them. The packaging enthusiastically boasted quick sore throat & cough relief, all due to this medicinal herb. They smelled really terrible, but the smell was apparently no match for the truly horrifying taste. Having shared that, I give you the #1 funniest thing Jim's dad has ever said to me, which still makes me laugh after 16 years:

"I'm sick and can't taste a thing, but it doesn't take taste buds to know that these are terrible. Someone must've already sucked all the hore out of this hound."

****

I wish I knew how to quit you

Two of my very favorite people in the entire world happen to be married to each other. Emily is one of my college roommates and Mel is the best borrow-a-husband I've ever had. They don't make them like Mel anymore, or if they do, they don't make them anywhere near here! He's the gold-standard, I'm telling you. Then again, so is she. It's a perfect match!

Em was born & raised in Wisconsin and Mel was born & raised in Canada. They're really Californians, though. Just like them, their home is warm & beautiful and when I visit, I never want to leave. They're the kind of people who refer to the guest room as "your room", as in: "Come see us! Your room is waiting for you!" They probably say that to all of their out of town guests but it doesn't feel like it. It feels very much like I am their favorite person and that if I'm not staying in their house, "my" room gets sealed off until the day I return. Of course that isn't true, they are just the kind of people who make all of their friends feel like they are #1, and we all believe it.

This weekend, Mel updated his Facebook status (which he doesn't often do), and since they are known to vacation in exotic locations, I wanted to know where they were. This screen cap pretty much says it all:



C'mon. The man knows how I prefer to be welcomed, in any situation. Open arms & a large alcoholic drink! He totally gets me.

I wondered, when I went back to make that screen cap, if I might have already been enjoying a large alcoholic drink when I commented on Mel's status.

NOTE TO SELF: YOU HAVEN'T LIVED IN WISCONSIN SINCE COLLEGE, WHICH MEANS YOU HAVE ALREADY QUIT WISCONSIN*.

*Sausages from Wisconsin, on the other hand, I will never, ever quit. Ever.

I have big plans to Blo the Po out of this Mo!

...so I'll do my best to fit the daily blogging in between all of that. HAHAHA! Just kidding, Mom.

I've done NaBloPoMo for the past couple of years, so I figured, hey... why not do it again? Why not? Really! I mean, WHY NOT?

aj amcv';oa jfg[ioah'acm 'jkpfagj[aaeora!

Oh, sorry. I stroked out for a second, but I'm back now. Looks like I'll be around every day, all month long. In addition to the interaction with you lovely people in the comment box (Oh, please join me in the comment box! It's much more fun when people are being sociable. As sociable as we can be while facing a computer, not talking out loud to anyone) and out there in the universe, NaBloPoMo is also about the prizes. Those who succeed in blogging every day in November get randomly drawn out of a proverbial hat to win kickass prizes that have been donated by kickass people. What's driving me to complete another year's NaBloPoMo is the horrific thought that this would've been my year to win a huge sock monkey or a hand-knit bacon scarf. Mmm. Bacon.

It's good for me to have this pressure for daily blogging. There are entirely too many things I've put off talking about on here, not the least of which is the continuing saga of a diabolical, inter-postal battle I'm having with THIS GUY.

But that's a longer story that I'm saving for another day. Today, I have something else that made me laugh & laugh. I have gone back to look at it no less than 10 times, just to get those giggles revved up again. What I'm talking about are 2 comments left by this other funny guy after he read one of my recent posts.

Let me back up a bit. Last month, I decided that it would be excruciatingly torturous fun to start a series called, Mindfield, which is best described in this way:

{The inner workings of my brain in certain real-life situations are not unlike frolicking through a minefield, or rather, MINDfield. Boom; explosion.}

This is where I'll have a conversation that starts out by asking you a question, but that I rudely continue by answering it myself. Then, I repeat that process:

We all have those little moments of clarity brought on by the strangest things, don't we? Of course we do. Why not drag them all out, into the light? Oh, I don't know. Something called privacy? Having boundaries, perhaps? Everyone knows that boundaries are no fun whatsoever!

AMIRITE?

Go on ahead & answer me. I'll wait.

Where were we? Ahh, yes. Here's a shortened version of the post I wrote last month:

And so it goes until the day you die
He quietly sang along to "Love Stinks" as if he truly believed in every word, and my excitement in the possibilities of where things were headed turned into feelings of impending doom.

Here's the what has kept me laughing for nearly 2 weeks now:




Thank you, G. I owe you one.


****

A spooky, scary and spine-chillingly appropriate holiday story, also see: hilarious cautionary tale

Awhile back, my good friend Alex was telling a group of us a story that I have never quite been able to shake from my mind about her married life. I still laugh out loud when I envision the real-life scene. Alex was one of my roommates in our off-campus house during the college years and I am well-versed in her romantic history. In those days, there was more than one random Tuesday afternoon when I'd walk into the house to be greeted with Madonna's Justify My Love pounding through the speakers and the view of a veritable Splendor on the Carpet because Alex and her college boyfriend didn't have class that day.

Never mind that she had her own bedroom with her own door, or that she knew when her roommates would get home for the day. That kind of stuff never seemed to bother her at all.

I have so many great stories about living with her that I could fill a book, but I'll wait for my publishing deal to come through. I don't give it all away for free, you know! If you twist my arm a little, I might tell you the story involving candle wax removal...but not today! I have something else in mind for you. Without further ado:

Alex and her husband were looking to spice things up in the bedroom with a little bit of role playing. Her husband worked second shift and she suggested that one night after she's asleep he should come into the bedroom with a mask on--like an intruder--and, you know, seduce her. He shouldn't tell her in advance though, because that would ruin the surprise. So far, so good, right?

She assumed that when the night came, he would wear something like this:

A textbook ski mask. They had an entire front closet full of them.


Or this:

The bank robber look. Simple. Classic. Never goes out of style.


Or, if he was feeling REALLY creative maybe he'd show up in something like this:

She didn't REALLY think he'd go to the trouble of buying a mask with rhinestone detailing, but this was about as much credit as she was giving him for pulling out all the stops. That was the last time she'd ever underestimate his creativity.


Here's the part of the story which emphasizes the great divide between women and men, and how we are not wired the same way AT ALL.

Several weeks had gone by, and she drifted off to sleep one night, with nary a thought of their previous discussion. Her husband came home from work and figured it had been long enough for her to have put the "seduction by masked man" idea out of her mind so he excitedly went into action, going to the garage to pull out what he planned to wear from the very first time she brought it up. He just knew he had the perfect thing! He then skulked into the house, and tip-toed into their darkened bedroom. Just as he hovered over her side of the bed, he flipped on the low-wattage nightstand lamp while shaking her shoulder to wake her.

She groggily opened her eyes, to see this:

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Turns out he had an old Halloween costume in the garage that she didn't know about: Jason, from Friday the 13th


She screamed her head off, jumped up from the bed, and kicked him so hard that he fell to his knees. Her violent reaction shocked him! Her incredibly accurate kick knocked the wind out of him! This was NOT part of the plan! Even though he was reaching for her from the floor, attempting to say, "It's ME! It's okay, it's only ME!" all that was coming out of his mouth was a succession of low and indistinguishable moans of confounded pain. In the meantime, she ran to grab the kitchen phone and locked herself in the bathroom on the lower level of their house, where she immediately called 911.

By the time her husband gathered himself and made it downstairs, the police were already on their way, and boy, did he have some explaining to do.


Do yourself a favor this Halloween--and especially any other day of the year-- resist waking your loved one while wearing a terrifying costume, no matter how perfectly seductive you think it is.

And so it goes until the day you die

He quietly sang along to "Love Stinks" as if he truly believed in every word, and my excitement in the possibilities of where things were headed turned into feelings of impending doom.

LOVE STINKS

J. Geils Band

You love her, but she loves him
And he loves somebody else
You just can't win
And so it goes until the day you die

This thing they call love
It's gonna make you cry
I've had the blues, the reds and the pinks
One thing for sure

(Love stinks)
Love stinks yeah yeah

Two by two and side by side
Love's gonna find you, yes it is
You just can't hide
You'll hear it call
Your heart will fall
Then love will fly
It's gonna soar
I don't care for any casanova thing
All I can say is love stinks

(Love stinks)
Love stinks yeah yeah

I've been through diamonds
I've been through minks
I've been through it all
Love stinks

{The inner workings of my brain in certain real-life situations are not unlike frolicking through a minefield, or rather, MINDfield. Boom; explosion.}

A.) Things I won't be doing in this post, and B.) Why:

A.) Making references to blowing or eating.

B.) Because I'm a lady*.


Full story on my Piven birthday cake HERE. Thanks, Missy! You're the bomb!



*Why does everybody always laugh when I say that?!

My father's daughter

Happy Birthday, Dad!

For as long as I can remember, I've always been told that I'm my father's daughter. If you believe that astrology has any affect on your personality traits, then I suppose it was kind of unavoidable since I was born the day before his 31st birthday. We share--for the most part--the same sense of humor, the same temperament, the same taste in cars and the same ass-kicking driving style (and speaking of driving: the same ability to drive my mom crazy), the same lack of patience with rude people, the same inability to beat-around-the-bush, the same love for people-watching, the same fascination with all things Chihuly, and the same appreciation for anything that is of-from-around-or-about Italy. Oh yeah, we also have the same nose, though mine is MUCH smaller and cuter.


No need for an actual DNA test, just look at us. Dad at hardball league, holding a beer. I'm the shorty behind him, holding a beer of my own, or so it seems. 1982-ish.

Whenever our family is sitting around reminiscing, our parents complain that my sister & I only remember "the bad stuff"; like having to spend every hot summer Saturday weeding underneath the biggest magnolia tree you've ever seen, or how when we were teens we had a 10-minute time limit on every phone call and how they always knew when time was up even if they were an entire floor below us.

How about the time I got grounded in 4th grade for 6 whole weeks because I got a 'D' in handwriting, while the fact that Dad's handwriting was so sloppy he was often asked if he was a doctor seemed to escape him as he handed down my punishment. Irony, even as a 9-year old, was not lost on me. I just had enough sense to keep it to myself.

I also enjoy bringing up how I had a 10pm curfew all the way through high school when my friends were practically just beginning their weekend night festivities... but all those "bad things" are sometimes more entertaining to look back on now that my sister & I are adults.


Just let your soul glo! The afro seen 'round the world. 1979-ish.


The truth is that there was a lot more good stuff than bad. As a teen I would have disagreed, but it turns out that it's important to have parents who set boundaries and have high expectations of their children because as our parents always say, we turned out alright after all!


Dad & Mom, dating in their teens, plotting how to torture their future daughters with things like personal responsibility and curfews. THE NERVE!


Mom & Dad. Venice Beach, 1993-ish.

Thanks for everything, Dad. I'll try to bring up more of the good stuff when we sit around telling stories the next time, like when you taught me (at 16) to drive your hot new stick shift sports car and I almost killed us in the middle of an intersection when the car died as I was trying to make a left turn. You didn't lose your cool with me, not for a second; even when I was panicking because I couldn't get the clutch and the gas pedals synced up and the car died again, after it sputtered a few feet closer to the swiftly approaching oncoming traffic.

You just yelled, "GO! GO! GO!" and then... I did! That pretty much sums it up. You're always there, spurring me on to simply put my mind to something and do it.


Clearly up to no good in 1987. Speaking of that 'fro... It looks as if Missy decided to sport that look too, but it was just the wind.

You're the best, and not only is that a compliment for you, but it's a compliment for ME because I'm proud to say that even after all of these years, people still tell me that I'm my father's daughter. But they always add, "with a MUCH smaller and cuter version of his nose!" Really, they add that, I swear.

Happy Birthday! I Love you.

The Proposal: Timing really is everything!

The weekend we met, way back in 2005. Who is wrapped around who's finger, exactly?

I got an e-mail from my oldest (in years of friendship, not in age!) BFF last week, telling me about a conversation she had with her nearly 5-year old son, R. What you should know before reading any further is that they live several states away from me and though we talk on the phone often, we only get to see each other once/year.

The following will explain everything you ever needed to know about the effect I seem to have on men*:

I told R. your birthday is coming up and he wanted to color a picture for you. I told him you like hearts, so he asked me to draw some for him. As he was coloring them in, he said,

“I want to marry her, because I like her. I’m going to drive to her house and kiss her, and give her some flowers.”

Then he looked up from his artwork to ask,

“Wait, did anyone marry her yet?”

I said, “Not yet.”

He said,

“Good. I don’t know what time I’m going to grow up**, but when I grow up, that’s when I’m going to marry her***.”

That "AKA Your Husband" above his name makes this the best artwork by a nearly 5-year old (with help from his mother) of all time. OF ALL TIME!!!!!!


All I have to say is, Jeremy better step up his game (*cough* birthdayspankings *cough*) tonight!


*By "men", I mean "nearly 5-year old boys". Of course, I've dated several men who acted about that age...

**...who clearly didn't know what time they were going to grow up, either.

***Don't cry for me! Word has it that R. is going to propose to me with his favorite plastic spider ring. He is wise beyond his years.

Feel the burn

The other night, one of my BFFs was in town from another state for a Med School exam, part of which included diagnosing people acting as patients with symptoms from any number of illnesses. Sound familiar? Let me remind you of a classic scene from Seinfeld:


"I burned for her..."

We've been joking about that episode in relation to this particular exam for awhile now, which has included the unbridled joy of sending her text messages saying things like, "I hope you get gonorrhea!"

Matthew McConaughey* knows I'm alive!

(I just call him Matty, though!)

Dear World-at-Large:
I may have tweeted my love for Dazed & Confused's Wooderson. I may have even tweeted it directly to Matty himself.

Then, this happened:




Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some auburn highlighting work to do on my hair before Matty takes me to that kegger down at the Moon Tower*.

*It could be an imposter, but c'mon! It's probably not. The internet is a very truthful place.

**Where I'll ask him more about the pitfalls of being a movie star in between air breaks from our huge make out sesh***.

***Don't mess with the fantasy.