Accessories...

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I went to the Verizon Wireless store this afternoon, after noticing over the past few weeks that my mobile phone wasn't able to hold a charge for longer than about an hour. I figured it would be a quick trip... uneventful. I was right on one count, anyway... it was quick.

"Andre, Verizon Associate" was very helpful, explaining to me that charging the phone overnight may result in burning out of some of the cells in the battery, and that - for future battery saving - I should only charge my battery about 2-3 hours each day.

And then he told me I would have to pay him $39.99 for a new battery.

"Is the phone off warranty?" I asked, innocently...

"No, the phone is still under warranty, but the accessories are not covered."

"The battery is an accessory?"

"Yes."

(Pause) "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"But... the phone won't work without the battery, right?"

"Right."

"But you call it an accessory?"

(Pause) "Um. Yes."

(I laugh)... "Is it me, or is that kind of a ridiculous classification for a battery?"

(Beginning to look scared)... "Um. Ma'am, I don't make the rules."

(Really laughing now) "So... Let me get this straight. The phone doesn't work without the battery. But you call the battery an accessory? Doesn't that kind of make the battery more of a necessity than an accessory?"

(Wide-eyed)... "I can get a manager..."

(Shaking head and still laughing)... "No, never mind... I guess I need to buy an accessory then..."


I find this fascinating. A battery for a cell phone is an accessory... like a blinged-out carrying case, or those charms that you hang off the antenna, or a belt clip. How, exactly, does that equate? And does that mean that the buttons on the cell phone are accessories too? After all, they come off too, if you poke 'em hard enough....

For the record, one definition online of ACCESSORY I found online is:
Additional features to enhance the appearance or performance of mobile phones, including replacement covers, batteries, hands-free kits, car kits, cases, cameras, keyboards, desktop holders and belt clips.

Well, technically I guess my battery does "enhance the performance" of my phone... I mean, without it, I could still SHOUT to the person I'm trying to reach... right?

(at least there is no mention of buttons... phew!!)




P.S. 100 days until Africa! Yay!


P.P.S. My sister told me that her 6 year old son told her that he had an "ouchie belly button" today. Poor kid has been boogie boarding all day on their vacation in Puerto Rico, and apparently rubbed his "outie" button raw. That just cracks me up. I can't stop laughing about that...


P. P.P.S. Ironic photo from the news... Guatemalan protestors demonstrating against President Bush's visit to Central America and American policies and politics (and simultaneously wearing a t-shirt that says "Wrangler: For the Cowboy In You".)
(I don't know why, but I find that funny)


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Do you deliver?

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I was thinking the other day, as the "first snow storm" hit New York (which consisted less of snow, and more of ice driven by 30 MPH winds and sleet that instantly turned to sidewalk-slippery ice) that it would be nice to live where you didn't have to leave your house. And I realized... I do... So I set off on a fun little online search for life's necessities that could be delivered. And I begin to wonder.... do I really even have to leave my apartment?

Laundry - Any dry cleaning store worth it's chemical perc will pick up, clean (according to your instructions) and deliver your clothing to your door, sometimes as quickly as next day. They'll even iron your undies. Be careful, though... sometimes you might end up with someone else's undies... I guess that wouldn't be a downer if your ratty Hanes got swapped up with La Perla though....

Groceries - Every grocery store delivers, but the grand-daddy of grocery delivery in New York City is FreshDirect.com This is proof that God likes New York. You order groceries online and deliver straight to your door, with quality that is higher, and prices that are lower than most brick-and-mortar stores. I *heart* Fresh Direct!!!

Drugs - Of course the illegal ones can be pick-up or deliver. But I wouldn't know about them (*wink*). But if you want the legal drugs that your doc told you to take, you don't have to worry about taking that prescription she wrote for your yeast infection to the too-public Duane Reade counter. Now, you can get your Rx filled online, and delivered to the privacy of your doorman. Looking for some simple deodorant or condoms? Easy enough... FreshDirect.com (*swoon*) has limited drugstore goods which they're increasing, but Drugstore.com will fill your prescriptions and deliver to your door... and even email you when it's time for a refill.

Clothing, shoes, bags - You name it, they deliver. Usually free. Zappos.com has free return shipping, too... now THAT is love.

Mail - USPS has free pickup services, or you can hire a concierge to do it for you.

Books & Music - Barnes & Noble has free delivery of in-stock items within 24 hours in Manhattan! I love New York!

Movies - Lots of options here... Netflicks is the reigning NYC favorite. I don't subscribe, but my ex did. Whatever.

Meals - Which diet are you on? Or do you just want to order "heat and serve" meals from the grocery story? No problems. They deliver too. Of course every restaurant except the hoity-toity ones deliver too... (including Mee Noodle Shop, whose cold sesame noodles have some addictive quality that I liken to heroin on them... so of course I have the number memorized... so sad.)

I don't know! - Can't think of what you need? Hire someone to find a service for you! Anything! Any time! Love it!

Gifts for people - Yep, you lazy bum. You can hire someone to buy gifts for other people... Aunt Tizzy's birthday? Secretary's Day? Cute boy you need to send an anonymous note to? Hire these people and they'll find the perfect gift, and sign the card from you (or not). How terrifyingly accommodating.

Go to DMV for you - This one CRACKED ME UP. I always wondered if Donald Trump had to stand in line to renew his license. I guess not.... VIP Concierge, Inc.

Vodka - FreshDirect.com (*swoon*) only sells beer. So for hard liquor, you can have someone pick it up for you. And you don't even have to bring a fake ID to the door.

"Companionship" (ahem) - you know where I'm going here. Just make sure you use the condoms you bought from drugstore.com.


On the flip side, if you NEVER want to be home, you can do that too! Hire people to live your life for you and you won't have to worry about it:

Help! My toilet's stopped up! And I have to go to the Bloomies sale! - Calling the plumber too much of a pain? Hire someone to schedule your appointments for you VIP Concierge, Inc. (Honestly, though... wouldn't calling the plumber just take less time than setting things up with these guys?)

Cleaning services - a dime a dozen. Just ask any upwardly-mobile young professional and trust me, they'll have a recommendation for you. (Mine even does my laundry for me... How much do I love Eliza? You have no idea. In fact - confession time - I have calculated just the right number of undies I need to make it from one visit to the next. Yep, spoiled brat I am. But when your ex never cleaned, you have to compromise, right? Moving on...)

Man's best friend's gotta go - Aah, the famed New York City dog walkers.... Yep, someone to walk your dog for you. Also a dime a dozen to find (just about any "actor / slash / dancer / slash / waiter / slash / human" in town is also a "dog walker."

Pay your bills - Can't bear the thought of penning another check to Con Ed? No worries, hire someone to balance your checkbook for you... VIP Concierges, Inc.

Wait. - I love this one. You can hire someone to wait for services for you. Have a cable guy coming but can't miss the Kate Spade sample sale? No worries... these guys will send someone over to meet them and babysit your apartment while strange plumber-butt people fix whatever is broken.

Organize you - because really, when you need your shoes alphabetized, isn't it better to simply have someone else do it for you? Gotham Concierge

Update your wardrobe - if you simply can't be bothered to set up your own wardrobe, you can hire a Fashion Consultant to come to your home, check out your closet, and then go shopping for you. Just make sure the limit on your credit card is... well... non-existent.

Dating set-ups - yea, they exist, in case you don't even have time to troll Match.com on your own... they'll do it for you and set up a time, place, and budget for you and your soul-mate to meet. Just show up, with credit card in hand, and you're set to go.

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"Old dog, new tricks"

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A few years ago, when I thought my life was moving in a forward direction, I took a class at NYU in marketing. It was an interesting enough class - a basic overview of marketing concepts in the entertainment industry, lead by a guy whose claim to fame was managing Kiss way-back-when. (yes, Kiss, the band.) the class was fine, and I had some randomly vague thoughts about getting my certificate in marketing, and furthering my career in new directions, blah blah blah. Needless to say, after moving in a decidedly *backwards* direction soon after finishing the class, the hope of a certificate has rather fallen by the wayside.

I've taken other classes as well, including an art class (which said it would teach us trompe d'oeil and really only taught us faux bois) and - more recently of course - karate (which was just a not-so-hidden-excuse to punch the crap out of things.) So I thought, perhaps now that I've moved into a better place in life, I'd look at some fun classes to take again... maybe salsa lessons, or start painting again... after all, you can do anything in New York, right? Honestly, I had no idea how much "anything" there was to offer...

So after popping around some scary Google searches, I followed the advice of my new favorite book ("The Best Things to do in New York") and looked up classes on Craig's List.

I searched for general classes, and ended up with thousands of choices... so I narrowed it down to classes only in Manhattan and here are a few options... (I've removed repeats, of which there were many)


In the mood for crafts?
Private Class with a knitting coach
Stylish Craft of Crochet
Needlepoint for beginners
Ceramics and pottery
Adults-only art classes (Do you really want to know? I didn't think so)
Beading (for kids and adults)
Sewing classes
Figure clay sculpting
Drawing classes with live models
Private painting tutor

How about a language?
French lessons
Spanish lessons
Italian lessons
Korean lessons
English lessons
Chinese lessons
Russian lessons
German lessons
Brazilian and Portuguese lessons

Get up and MOVE!
Square dancing
Ballet lessons
Modern dance
Belly dance ("You can burn calories while you seduce him!")
Salsa
Polish American Folk Dancing lessons (now that sounds like fun!)
Hip-Hop dance lessons
Merengue & Bachata
Staci's Boot Camp workout ("She'll kick your butt
........back up where it belongs!")
Yoga classes
Pilates (private or group classes available)
"Spine-Song" - an integration of Pilates and Yoga
Capoeira
Shorinji Kempo
Aikido
Judo
Acrobatics
Exotic Dance Class for Everyday women (This class is taught by a
........former professional dancer. "You'll learn strip teases and lap
........dance basics. Please wear platform stilettos and bring along
........a button-down shirt. Wine is provided.")
Pole dancing (Yes, that would be a stripper pole. Though I wonder...
........don't you think lap dancing is more practical in the home?)

New skills anyone?
Voice lessons
Bass, guitar, violin, piano, sax and other random instrument
........tutors and lessons
Improv acting and comedy classes
Songwriting lessons
Digital photography
Writing for Performance workshop
Advanced fiction writing
Finally write your novel
Romance writing
Poker
Chess
Private math lessons
SAT, GRE, LSAT, MCAT tutors
Astrology
Astronomy
Practical investing class
AHA Adult CPR Training
Speed reading (Led by a Columbia University Ph.D.)
How to do spiritual readings and read tarot
Fellatio (class for women only)
Finding the big "O" from your woman (That's "O" for
........orgasm, and it's a class for men. Finally.)

Bite me:
Make your own sushi
Beginning cooking classes
How to make paella
Vegan / Vegetarian / Organic cooking classes
Cooking for couples
Cooking for one
Cooking for a party
Italian food for everyone
Baking
Pastry chef offering group lessons

Huh?
How to be a successful flea market vendor
How to think and grow rich
Plastic Surgery (no no, you don't learn to DO it, you
........get to attend lectures about it. Phew!)
Beginning Robot Workshop for Adults
Santeria and Pan African Religious Practitioners
........("Add explosive power to your ritual, spells and
........healing Paths")
Candle Magick (sic)
How to e-learn (apparently an online class about
........how to take online classes)
Learn Permanent Makeup
Esoteric lore for women


That, my friends, were the classes offered on PAGE ONE of the upcoming classes in Manhattan. All of these start in the next two weeks, and most lead to websites that have other classes as well.

Now, all I have to do is choose between CPR and fellatio. Seems like you might be able to combine those... now THAT would be an interesting class. But please, feel free to let me know which class you'd like me to take and (inevitably) blog about.


P.S. I know it's Valentine's Day. I'm boycotting it because it's a capitalist excuse for a sentiment that should be expressed every day. Plus I'm feeling decidedly anti-romance these days. Bah humbug.





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Where's the bathroom?

I'm sure you've all seen the articles lamenting the hazards of driving because people are constantly doing things in their vehicles that they shouldn't be doing - like eating, cell phone reaching, DVD-changing, or putting on makeup. If you have a car, this of course makes perfect sense, as does the stunning statistic that 80% of drivers think that they are "above average" when it comes to their performance behind the wheel (which is, of course, statistically impossible.) But it's mildly irrelevant to the people who don't have cars.

Until now.

I move to expand this concern for attention-span safety to the streets of Manhattan. Not because there is a sudden rash of people driving while doing these other activities (though you could argue that the taxi drivers on cell phones are a danger, but I don't think it's because of the cell phones), but most people can't seem to accomplish the simple task of walking and adding another action.

I am often stunned by what I see people doing on the streets of New York. And I'm not talking about the obvious, like urinating or tossing one's cookies on the corners (though I do not envy the store owners and doormen who have to clean up these messes in the morning), or flashing one's privates. Those are quite mundane, to be honest, in the circus that makes up this fine city. I can even excuse the random spitting habit that seems to have become as common these days as tossing gum onto the sidewalk (has the gum become so instantaneously horrible that you can't walk 30 more feet to the trash receptacle that is located on every corner in Manhattan?) As annoying, gross, or incomprehensible as these things are, they are the things that you've come to expect when living in this great metropolis.

But there are some things that I've seen that are truly baffling. On my bleary-eyed stroll to the subway this morning, I noted a woman who was simultaneously talking on her wireless headset cell phone, holding a compact mirror, and using an eyelash curler. Now, the eyelash curler in and of itself is blog-worthy, since - for some strange reason - it terrifies most men (why? it's not like anything of value to you would fit in there anyway, so why the fear?) I'll admit, it does resemble some miniature torture device, no matter how well it's been pinked up or packaged. And while the eyelash curler is often hailed as key to the fashionista's morning routine, I will admit that this is the first time I've seen it used while walking down a city street. I admire the woman, really, since I don't have enough coordination to do it in my own bathroom 3 inches away from my mirror (and biting the tip of ones tongue in concentration doesn't help either, for the record.) She has apparently mastered the technique to the point where she can do it walking down a city street, talking on a cell phone, and avoiding other commuting walkers. Impressive. Random, but still impressive.

Brushing hair, I've seen several times... I've even done it myself, in the mad dash from my karate studio to a dinner with friends. But one woman on the subway a few months ago had brought her entire hair regimen with her... two kinds of brushes, a mini can of hairspray, pins and barrettes, and a headband. It took her the entire ride from the upper East Side to Tribeca to finish her primping, all the while balancing a mirror on her lap. It would have been amusing, except that by the time we all exited the subway, our lungs were coated with the extreme hold of Aussie Instant Freeze Hairspray. Our alveoli were cemented in place, no matter how hard the wind blew that day!

A few years ago, I even saw a man brushing his teeth while walking down Madison Avenue. And lest you think of a homeless man with a simple brush in his mouth, let me correct your mental imagery. He was dressed in a dapper pinstriped suit, hair gelled, and scrubbing away, complete with white foam dripping around the mouth and water bottle in hand, ready to rinse (and hopefully spit into the trash can on the corner.) That really epitomises for me what people feel comfortable doing in a crowded and yet still anonymous setting. I can't help but think - what would he have done if he ran into his boss? Or a client? And the other thought - Has the New York real estate market gotten so exclusive that bathrooms are no longer available to do morning routines? Or is it a new time-saving technique - combining your commute with your morning routine?

Whatever the reason, it's all OK here... as long as you walk safely while doing it. Because apparently, even if you don't have a bathroom, you can do it all on the streets of the Big Apple.

Online dating translations, part 1

While anticipating dipping my little toe into the adventures of dating after 12 years, it's interesting to me what has become of the world of internet dating. In the early days, the internet was basically a place to send and receive emails, look at porn, and the only people who posted online were skeevy perverts with few social skills and presumably an arrest record. It was reminiscent of the times when pagers and cell phones only really belonged in the world of doctors and drug dealers... no one could be trusted if you picked them up online.

Now it's a bit different. Actually, it's a lot different. When you look for potential mates online, the outline of the guy is right there in front of you: Relationship history (single, married, separated, divorced, "complicated"), sexual orientation (m4w, t4m, m4m), baggage check (have children, want children, do they live with you), education /literacy level (grammar, spelling, writing skills), music / movie / book preferences, hobbies... and you can even gawk at his photos without worrying about making too much eye contact, as you would at a bar. Of course everything is up for negotiation, and factors like age, income and just about everything else can be misinterpreted or an outright lie. But assuming at - barring some serious psychological problem - they are apt to tell mostly the truth, the only thing missing, of course, is the interpersonal interaction. So all you have to do is read, and you know everything you need to know, right?

Well, not exactly. I'm learning slowly but surely that what you see is not exactly what you get when it comes to online representations... and I'm not just talking about the "interpretive" ages, "estimated" heights, "approximate" weights, or the "oops, I checked the wrong box" marital status. No, no... ladies... there are some much more subtle clues on this than you might think. I liken it to the real estate listings, where everything is "prettied up" in order to sell at the highest price. For example, when searching for an apartment, cozy means don't sit on the toilet before you close the bathroom door or you'll bruise your knees, and pre-war charm means running water may work 30% of the time, and on a good day you might get a lukewarm shower.

It is the same with online dating, my friends. There are statements that say one thing... but mean something entirely different. And so here, ladies and gentlemen, is the first installment of my "Online Dating Translation Dictionary" for your perusal, amusal, and rebuttal...

No Baggage Please
What men think they mean: Please, I'm a nice guy, don't be a whack job.

What men really mean: Once you start complaining about anything, I'll blame it on PMS, your past relationships, or your need for anti-psychotic medications. I've been in a relationship where the woman complained, and I hated it, so all I really want is a life-like sex toy that talks, but has nothing to say. Once you start having emotional needs indicating that you're human, I'm outta here. And you shouldn't have kids. Period. And you should never mention children. Ever. (Except perhaps when you tell me that I'm so perfect that your life is fulfilled and you can't imagine messing up the stunning sex we're having by doing something so annoying like procreating.)


I'm A Sports Fan
(There are several variations to this statement, including "I'm a huge [insert random sports team here] fan" or having the username that resembles anything like sportnut, giantsfan, or touchdown74.)

What men think they mean: I'd love to meet a woman who enjoys watching the game with me and would appreciate season tickets as a gift for their birthday.

What men really mean: I might like you. But only if you cease to exist entirely when my favorite team / sport is on TV, or when I'm at the game. You cannot ever, under any circumstances whatsoever, accompany me to any games, sports-watching parties, or sports bars unless you are: a) a professional cheerleader and can demonstrate your skills on a bar in stilettos during a halftime wet T-shirt contest... and win, b) can chug cheap beer from a funnel as fast and with as much tolerance as my ex-football-player friend, Scott who weighs 290 pounds, or c) have all the names of the teams, players, positions, coaches, and have the sport's history and rules memorized, but will always defer to my expertise when we disagree on a point.
You are not allowed to complain at any point about my absence during said events, even if you are in the process of giving birth to our child during a game. If you do complain, then I will break up with you because you are a bitchy nag who doesn't understand my needs.


Looking for someone to have fun with!
What men think they mean: I'm looking for someone to have fun with!

What they really mean: I'm looking for someone to have fun with... until I get bored with you. At that point, I will leave you because: 1) You have failed at meeting my entertainment needs, because I have the mental capacity and attention span that almost rivals that of a 4 year old with a severe case of A.D.D. who is high on candy and Coca Cola. 2) Once the sex is no longer mind-blowingly amazing, and you stop jumping my bones and trying to give me blow jobs every time we're together, I will go find something else to play with because you're boring in bed. 3) I can't commit. To anything. Ever. Even doing this online posting is already boring to me and I won't log in to check my account for weeks, at which point I'll try to log in again to see who has "winked" at me but won't remember my password, so fuck it... the site was lame anyway and only had dorky, loser women on it who didn't know how to have fun.

Ready to Settle Down
(This also has several variations, including the ever-popular "looking for mrs. right" line.... my personal favorite.)

What he thinks he means: I'm ready to settle down and get serious.

What he really means: I went out drinking last weekend, and three days later, I still have a killer hangover. I can't do this any more, man! Plus, I can't remember the names of the last six girls I slept with, and that's beginning to be embarrassing because I'm reaching my mid-thirties, and I'm verging on the "old guy who picks up chicks at the bar" now instead of the "cool, fun guy at the bar" that I used to be. All my friends are in long-term relationships, engaged, or married, so I think I should settle down, but deep down, I really don't want to. Unless, of course, you're good enough for me so that I won't ever be attracted to anyone ever again. This means, of course, that you have to stay young, hot, sexy, happy, fun, energetic, chatty, flirty and have a kick-ass body every day... for the rest of your life... even when you're 65... and worship my body even when I turn into a 65 year-old overweight couch potato who still thinks he can drink like a 22 year old. Otherwise, I'll leave you when the hangover quits and I've decided that I'm "looking for someone to have fun with!" (cross-reference previous entry.)


Looks great in a formal dress, but also comfortable in jeans

What he thinks he means: I'd love to have a woman who can carry herself well in any situation.

What he really means: You should look great, no matter what time it is, how early the alarm clock went off, or how much sleep I didn't let you get last night. You should be able to keep up with my breakneck walking speed while wearing 6" heels, and not complain about it when we arrive. You should wake up and need approximately 36.3 seconds to go from dead asleep to walking out the door in perfectly coiffed hair, clothes, and style. (Noticed that I left off makeup - you shouldn't need any ever. Unless it's maybe some red lipstick that won't smudge or wear off during the 6 hour party.) You should be able to switch seamlessly between a formal gown and horseback riding on the beach in Negril without ever having raccoon-eye mascara smudges or sweating unattractively. If you ever DO have raccoon-eyes or bad breath, I'll break up with you because you're getting to be too high-maintenance. (After all, the Bond girls do this all the time... so why can't you?)


(to be continued...... )

'Tis the season... for a boyfriend.

One of the most interesting places to catch some insight into the world of 20- and 30-something single women in New York is in the locker room of my karate studio. It's dirty, smelly, and only one of the two toilets works about half the time, but they do keep free hair dryers on-hand and - if you're lucky - it might work for about 3 minutes before it shorts itself out.

Discussions range, of course, depending on the crowd and the time of day... and so far, I have I heard conversations about funky dieting techniques ("detox" is the word du jour, apparently), makeup techniques ("the bruises cover better with a yellow-tinted cover-up"), bras ("you only have to wear one sports bra?"), and last but certainly not even close to being least, BOYS. The conversations on boys run the gamut, from comparisons of those in class with you ("did you see that high green belt today? Wow, I'd love to untie HIS drawstring pants") to the various boys in the "outside" world, ranging from husbands, boyfriends, crushes, friends-with-benefits, and the seemingly endless gamut of relationship possibilities. (To be fair, there are plenty of lesbians there, too, but the talk rarely runs to girlfriends, unless they're referring to jealousy of a girlfriend who also has a male friend-with-benefits.) But I digress....

One of the most interesting discussions I've overheard and butted into lately was about the seasonal need for a boyfriend. This is what I've affectionately started referring to as "Seasonal Dating" (not to be confused with "serial dating" which is a whole 'nother beast entirely.) Last November, there were two very attractive, young 20-somethings in my class who were discussing the need to find boyfriends, because "It was the right season." At first, I didn't quite follow what they were talking about, but as the conversation progressed it became clear that the ideal dating scenario is to pick up a boyfriend when the weather starts getting chilly (they told me that October was ideal) and then dump the guy when the weather starts getting nicer (usually April or early May.) Why? Well, there are several complex and yet surprisingly understandable factors in that:

Indoor vs. Outdoor activities:
In the winter, you do the "indoor activity" thing... go to cozy restaurants, see movies, and tour museums or dance clubs, depending on your morning- or night-time preferences. For these activities, it's ideal to have a mate. Preferably one that is good in bed, can cook for you, has a swanky apartment with a big-screen TV, and pays for the takeout dinners.

In the summer, and warmer months, it's time to break out of that shell and go OUT. This means outdoor seating in cafes and bars, late-night partying at bars with single cute boys, jogging in Central Park (or, who am I kidding, it's mainly short-shorts and bikini-top Frisbee tossing in Central Park), trips to beaches, pool parties, and all sorts of fun outdoor festivities. These activities are not conducive to having a boy attached to you, so it's best not to have one during these times of the year.

Clothing Required:
As alluded to above, the necessary parka and snow boots of the cold months are not very revealing, and the much-preferred clothing to attract young boys is easier to wear in the summer months. (I guess you could arguably wear said revealing items in winter, but let's face it - frostbite isn't sexy, no matter what color concealer you use.) Plus, often times, if you're dating a boy, he may have something to say about you wearing your brand-new string bikini top and playing Frisbee in Central Park without him being around to cast threatening looks at other boys who happen to pay too much attention to the... uh... Frisbees.

In the winter, even if you do have to wear long undies, unflattering Ugg boots, bad-hair-causing hats (with the accompanying bad static-electric-hair), up-to-your-chin sweaters that leave you feeling about as alluring as a nun in a habit.... you still get to make out with someone at the end of the day, because your boyfriend is waiting for you and will help you with the removal of said layering options. You have to admit, it's very hard to give a "come hither" look (or booty shake) to the guy who catches your eye on the street while you're wearing long johns, wool pants, fuzzy boots, a parka the size of a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade balloon, earmuffs, a scarf, hat and mittens.

In warmer months - not so much layering, and much easier to show off the fabulously toned Karate legs and new push-up bras. Hence, easier to flirt with potential boy toys.

Gifting Season:
Lest you think it's all about emotions and sex, let's face it, the winter season is a fabulous time to have someone who likes you well enough that gifts are required. In the winter, there's Christmas, New Year's Eve (it's always better to get kissed than not), and Valentine's Day... all of which pretty much revolve around the guy getting the girl something romantic, or pretty. In the summer, there is a distinct lack of opportunity to get gifts from a boy, so ... why bother sticking with one? Yea, I know... it's a materialistic way to think about things, but honestly, it makes sense a little, doesn't it?

So the lessons we've learned from our little locker-room banter was that the time to pick up a boyfriend is in the chilling-off months of October or early November... and then you can play with him until the first trip to spring break beaches requires that you suddenly be single again...

Interesting. And also interesting to note that I screwed it up this year... but now I know. And in October, I'll start hunting for my seasonal boyfriend for 2007-2008.

A bad day.... (warning, very descriptive of feminine issues)

While I do so wish that I had the time to write a wonderful blog, I have so many ideas, but am in desperate need of sleep. So I'm going to blatantly and unabashedly steal this posting from an email that my friend sent to me, which was written by HER friend. So, thank you, friend-of-friend, for providing some interesting reading. I got a huge chuckle out of this...

(Warning: The below is very descriptive of feminine hygiene issues, so if you're squeamish on those types of things, you'd probably be best served by going and watching something on your TiVo right about now...)

...so I'm driving, right? from the small town in texas where I live to el paso is about 6 and 1/2 hours. I wake up the morning I'm going to leave and I'm feeling good. I don't shower, because, why? I put my stuff in the car and leave. I stop for gas, still feeling fine. feeling actually pretty optimistic.

as I start to enter el paso, my optimism fades. I have started my period. why? who can say? I wasn't supposed to be starting my period, and yet it was undeniable. so I see an exit with a walmart and veer off because I really have no choice. I mean I do, but that's so gross. so I go into walmart thinking okay, problem solved.

problem not exactly solved.

the feminine hygiene products are nowhere to be found. I mean, I look everywhere. near the make-up, near the shampoo, near the tissues/toothpaste/razor blades, even back in the back near the baby stuff (I don't know what my logic was there, it just seemed like a good idea.) so there I am leaving a trail of blood through walmart and I know I have to do something.

so I go to the pharmacy and I say, 'excuse me? I'm looking for tampons. do you have any?' kind of like the grey poupon commercial, but kind of not, if you see what I mean. do you know where they are? what he told me? 'they are in aisle 12, next to the incontinence products.' next to the incontinence products? I'm sorry, I didn't know that the lining of my uterus shedding and expelling itself from my body was comparable to accidentally loosing bladder control and peeing when I laugh. it isn't like if I do some sort of exercise that I can work on holding it in. if I could, would I? sure. sure I would. it would make it really convenient if that was the case. unfortunately, it is not something that I or anyone I have talked to has figured out yet.

so you would think that it ends here. I find the tampons, pay for them, end of story. not so. so I am by the tampons and think, well, while I'm here I might as well buy pads, too. seriously, if I am going to be sitting in my car for another 13 hours, let's not take any chances. let's be overly prepared. while I'm at it, let's go ahead and buy midol. I've only used it once before, but it made me feel pretty good.

the midol is nowhere near the aisle with the pads and tampons (and adult diapers.) that would be too easy. apparently the sadistic bastards that design walmarts marketing scheme also have a sense of humor. they want to lead you on a form of a treasure hunt, with the treasure being, suprise! if you find it you can return to feeling like a normal person. if not, you'll probably bleed to death and be so pissed about it you'll shoot others and take them down with you.

I go back to the pharmacy, pads and tampons in my arms on display and begin to scour the pain relievers. bayer, tylenol, advil, etc. again, my search appears to be in vain. I go around to the other side, slamming directly into and tripping an elderly gentleman in the process, who proceeds to look at me and then down to my merchandise and before I can say 'I'm sorry' has literally taken off in a manner that can only be described as a hasty scurry.

after about 5 mintues of no success, arms full of products I go back to the counter and say 'midol?' 'look on the bottom shelves near the sides, it should be there.' I return and so it is. there, hidden at the bottom on the extreme left of the last shelf, is the midol. there is also a box of pamprin. I hate the name, but if it might work, hey, I'm willing to at least read the box. the box, like midols box, says it relieves pain,cramping, tension headache, bloating and here's the kicker, the difference from midols box and the reason I will never buy pamprin (aside from the ridiculous name): irritability.

irritability? I fucking bet that if I didn't have to consult an atlas, an oracle and burn two living sacrifices to FIND the goddam products, I wouldn't be so freakin' irritable.

I grab the midol and go to check out. self check out is not an option. it's el paso, texas. it's a monday. why would there be something as quick, easy and convenient as a self checkout? I go to the ten items or less line. begin to move through fairly quickly. place my products on the counter. ready to pay, exchange pleasantries with the poor young male kid who is blushing and stammering as he scans my multitude of feminine purchases, my hard won and fought for prizes.

I'm not worried about it, I smile and bite my lip, glance at him and make my eyes sparkle when our eyes catch, tilt my head innocently to the side, things that would probably be more flirtatiously effective and fetching if it didn't appear that I was losing enough blood to form a goat or to at least give another person a full transfusion.

I do kind of feel for him. I do have a surplus, he is young, he probably hasn't seen a vagina, but hey let one of his internal organs reject its interior and have the residue leave his body, and then we'll talk. until then, please check-out kid, please, don't ask me or any other female to discuss the nature of the products with you.

'do they really work?' yes. yes they do. I'm happy with their levels of performance. happy enough to pick out and stand by specific brands. however, I am provoked to wonder why you want to know. for what purpose? will you be sampling one or all of these products? and please don't misunderstand, a healthy curiosity is great, but you can look me in the eye when you ask, it's okay. I've been buying these things for years. probably someday YOU will even be asked to buy them. and hopefully, if you haven't turned into some machismo asshole, you will gladly crawl out of bed, kiss your girlfriend and drive to the store.

until then, don't worry. you don't have to talk about what I am buying. you can go the the old stand bys, the weather, the nature of my day, or even your day, I am usually interested to know. either way, it was nice to meet you. you seem like a nice guy, walmart kid. and I don't even mind that you watched me all the way to the bathroom. if I remember correctly I glanced at you and winked when I went in smiled and waved at you as I came out and left the store. thanks for all your help. sincere thanks to you check out kid and pharmacy guy, you were both really sensitive and helpful and if not for you I would probably still be wandering up and down the aisles.

a less sincere, but still special thanks to the masterminds of the walmart set-up.

and last, thank you el paso, tx. you really made my day manageable.

Soundtrack to Life!

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool...

Opening Credits: Clocks - Coldplay
Waking Up: Dead Man's Party - Oingo Boingo
Falling In Love: How to Save a Life - The Fray
Fight Song: I Write Sins Not Tragedies - Panic! At the Disco
Breaking Up: Empire - Queensryche
Prom: Boom Boom Ba - Metisse
Life: Dream On - Aerosmith
Mental Breakdown: Love Will Come Through - Travis
Driving: Hanging - Kristian Leontiou
Flashback: Don't Cry (Original) - Guns N' Roses
Getting back together: Gasoline - Moist
Wedding: In The Air Tonight - Phil Collins
Birth of Child: Christmas Bells, Carousels & Time (Instrumental) - Trans-Siberian Orchestra
Final Battle: Ready to Go - Republika
Death Scene: On Every Street - Dire Straits
Funeral Song: Touche (Feat. Lee Richards & John Kosco Of Dropbox) - Godsmack
End Credits: Karma (Karmastition Remix) - Alicia Keys

If you're bored... And I mean REALLY bored...

Bored? Try these... for freeeeeeeeeeeee:

The famous helicopter game... warning, VERY addictive!
http://www.hurtwood.demon.co.uk/Fun/copter.swf

Upload your photo, and the site tells you which celeb you resemble:
http://myheritage.com/FP/Company/tryFaceRecognition.php

Fun, cute, free games with kewl music:
http://www.ferryhalim.com/orisinal/

This is better than the movie:
http://www.kingkongjump.com/

So stupid... I'm laughing SO hard at this:
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/llama.php

Be careful with your mouse... You might lose it:
http://pya.cc/pyaimg/pimg.php?imgid=7198

WANT 2 B 12 AGANE?!??!!?! OMG
http://ssshotaru.homestead.com/files/aolertranslator.html

Feeling blue? Maybe not:
http://www.colorstrology.com/