Thursday, May 29, 2008

In All of Your Glory

I love the internet. The information highway. But I bet a lot of people sit in front of this magical window of opportunity and play it safe. We've got no time to waste, people!

Here is a guide to Write A Pathetic Personal Ad!

Step 1: Post a sassy glamour shot, preferrably from the late '80s.
Step 2: Drown yourself in a bewitching boa. It's hot.
Step 3: Recent photos? Why bother? Go back and cut and/or scratch out your ex.
Step 4: Keep us guessing. Choose blurry photos.
Step 5: Strike a pose.
Step 6: Choose from the following list of clichés. (These are amazing)
Step 7: Waste everyone's precious time with painfully obvious bullshit.
Step 8: After joining a dating service, make it clear you do not intend to date.
Step 9: Make sure to tell us you're thick in all the right places.
Step 10: If you have children, mention that you actually care about them.
Step 11: Remember, playing the victim is sexy. Let us know you're fresh out of a shitty relationship.
Step 12: Punctuation is completely optional.
Step 13: Ramble incoherently.
Step 14: Misspell your profession, so as not to arouse any suspicion that you remotely give a shit about what you do.
Step 15: Why go to the extreme hassle of spelling words such as "to", "you" and "one"? Substitute them with single letters and numbers.
Step 16: Please, please, please quote unoriginal poetry such as Robert Frost or Jewel.
Step 17: Cuddling is a highly specialized and sought-after skill. Weed out the incompetent fools by mentioning it at least four times.
Step 18: Nice guys unite! While you're waiting for your testicles to descend, whine incessantly about how girls walk all over you.
Step 19: Set yourself apart from those cafeteria Christians by informing us that your relationship with J.C. is in fact personal.
Step 20: Finally, do not under any circumstances double check your ad. Remember, we're going for spoteae~ui#ty.

A star!


I've been in cleaning mode for about four months now. And sometimes, a lot, that means that there will be piles of almost garbage lying somewhere that things shouldn't be placed. Those things wait in limbo, for me to get annoyed enough to get rid of them, more than anything, because they do not belong there. Before anything gets tossed, I think- Will I miss this? If I get rid of it now, will I throw myself on the ground, limbs flailing in ninety five days when I could possibly need an extra CD book for my potentially new second car for a road trip when I won't possibly have time to stop at a store and spend $4.99? Well, I better hold on to that until I can be good and sure.

Among my refuge in wait, I found a stack of neatly printed writings with my name on top. Packets of three, four, ten pages, stapled together and I finally read through them. Does it surprise me that I blocked out smaller writing assignments from high school? Not really. If I had my way, I would probably block out all four years, the bad, the sad, the worse, and the decent. I wish whoever had assigned these mini-papers to me had required me to put the name of the class on it, or the teacher's name, because I am curious to know who I spilled my guts to every week and why. I wrote about family discord, social hierarchy's, financial strains and responsibilities, the ever-mounding stress of wanting to find myself as a person, student, future member of society.

It was all so serious! I could have written about mounds of goose poop that infiltrated our school field every single morning without fail. I could have written about my gym teacher, who even though she had just gotten married to a male gym teacher, had still wound up putting a rainbow flag on her bumper. I could have written about my always entertaining babysitting perils. But I didn't. I poured my heart out, albeit an adolescent heart pumping with hormones and lack of sleep. And my feedback for each paper was a star inside of a circle. A star. Thank you, teacher of inspiration. You just helped me move some papers into the trash.

Quote of the Day

Carrie: "Be one with nature!! Be green, save Planet Earth. Hippies are awesome."
Me: "I'm a hippie in air conditioning, thank you very much."

Carrie The Torturer




Snapshot

                                                     Praying to her Sun God.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Snapshot

This tiny budding flower reminded me of the beginning of warmer days and sunshine. But try as I might, the very thing I was trying to focus on was what kept showing up blurry.

Sound familiar?

Quote of the Day

Alex: "Everyone can wait ten minutes for my health. You know what? I'm worth it."

Tree, Interrupted

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

I Want My Money...

You must watch this:

Better Than Madison Avenue

This is Madison. She is stunning. I told some people this weekend that if I could have a seventy five pound dog where I live, I would trade my dogs in a heartbeat.




That was a lie. But almost.

Snapshot

Don't be scared of pitbulls! Be scared of pitbulls driving school buses.

Shades of Gray

Isn't life amazing in black and white?
And then in full color, you realize all of those shells are actually people's bottle tops, foil wrappers, and washed up memories.

Quote of the Day

Ben: "If you find any meth, it's not mine."
Julia: "What's meth? Is it like perfume?"

Cupcakes=Memorial Day


Ornaments are for Christmas, dreidels for Chanukah, bunnies for Easter, flags for the Fourth of July. And I learned this weekend that a Memorial Day gathering is nothing without cupcakes!

Friday, May 23, 2008

Jersey Represent!

I remember hearing about a state where it is illegal to hold hands in public once you were married. Another state has a law against unmarried women walking barefoot in the street anywhere near a man. Yet another has a law against keeping ice cream in your back pocket. And I love learning about these states, and their antiquated laws for their simple folk. It is then that I overlook the Turnpike stench and bottleneck traffic to get home to an overpriced piece of "property." Thank goodness the great state of New Jersey steers clear of such laughable laws.

I was wrong. Here are some of New Jersey's "Laws":


#1 It is against the law for a man to knit during the fishing season.
(Of course, the man catches the fish, and the woman knits it a sweater?)

#2 You may not slurp your soup.
(In the land of blaring horns and middle fingers, it's hugely important to mind your manners.)

#3 If you have been convicted of driving while intoxicated, you may never again apply for personalized license plates.
(Right. Because the state can better watch over you with their own random choosing of letters vs. your name.)

#4 It is against the law to "frown" at a police officer.
(So, next time one comes at me, I will leap from my car, arms out jazz-hand-style and grin awkwardly. That should go over well.)

#5 On a highway you can not park under a bridge.
(Duh, people! Under the bridge is for trolls and Anthony Kiedis shooting up!)

#6 Car dealerships are forbidden from opening on Sunday.
(It is not good to lie and cheat people on what could possibly be their holy day. Just the other six days of the week when G-d is sleeping.)

#7 You cannot pump your own gas. All gas stations are full service and full service only.
(Fist pumping is more important.)

#8 Automobiles are not to pass horse drawn carriages on the street.
(Riiiight. Because I am sure New Jersey drivers won't mind driving at 1 mile an hour as their car's get crapped on.)

#9 It is illegal to delay or detain a homing pigeon.
(They better be clearly marked as such, or detaining they shall experience.)

In Bernards Township:
#10 It is illegal to frown as the town is a "Frown-Free Town Zone."
(Note: Zoloft use is at an all-time high in Bernards Township. High. Hehehe.)

In Caldwell:
#11 You may not dance or wear shorts on the main avenue.
(Streaking naked is a-okay, but don't you dare put shorts on! Are you dancing? There's no dancing in Caldwell!)

In Cranford:
#12 Citizens are not permitted to park their own boat on their lawn.
(Boats are for that there water, mmmkay?)

In Cresskill:
#13 All cats must wear three bells to warn birds of their whereabouts.
(Why is this? Because they are killers. They are outside to give their owner's dander-free air for however long they can take it. I will help enforce this one, for sure.)

In Elizabeth:
#14 It is forbidden for a woman, on a Sunday, to walk down Broad Street without wearing a petticoat.
(I have been in Elizabeth, and maybe they should enforce wearing clothes under the petticoat and not charging ten dollars an hour for doing such.)

In Manville:
#15 It is illegal to offer whiskey or cigarettes to animals a the local zoo.
(You go, you ville of man's! You keep your booze and smokes for yourselves.)

In Newark:
#16 It is illegal to sell ice cream after 6pm, unless the customer has a note from his doctor.
(Note to purveyors of illicit drugs, prostitution, and weapons: No doctor's note is needed.)

In Ocean City:
#17 Pinball machines are not to be played on Sunday.
(Pinball machines are the devil's plaything!)

#18 Raw hamburger may not be sold.
(Hamburger meat? Fine. Hamburger? Jail!)

In Raritan:
#19 Profanity is prohibited.
(Remind me to NEVER go to Raritan!)

In Sea Isle City:
#20 There will be no boiling of bones on the property.
(Thankfully, I don't live there. Am I right?)

In Trenton:
#21 Pickles are not to be consumed on Sundays.
(Because pickles look like......)

#22 You may not throw a bad pickle in the street.
(Throw your garbage in the street, but please treat your bad pickles with the respect they deserve: full burial.)

Quote of the Day

Alex to me:

"I trust you...... I-can't-believe-my-mouth-could-form-those-words."

Snapshot


We should all use this as a tutorial to teach us all how to push our tongues out of the way, you know, when it's just too much trouble to keep it placed centered in our mouths. 

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Snapshot

"Obviously, it's only fair, if you get the bone, I get the butt."

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Take Anything You Want

I'm not quite sure what disturbs me more: The bra strap zoom ins or the everything.

Snapshot

This was taken last weekend when I time travelled back to the 50's. I saw Marty McFly at the Soda Shoppe (where we each ordered vanilla milkshakes and wondered aloud why places like our favorite Barber Shop won't survive in the future.)