My B-Fri Can Fry!

So this is what it looks like when your best friend comes over. Lets herself in long before you are even stepping off the bus. Starts cooking.

(Self-reminder: Cooking is that thing that you for some unknown reason just do not do. You know, with heat and fire and metal and flavors. And not the metal that comes really thin and semi-glued on top of that chocolate mousse pudding cup. Also, it is not the act of slicing up a head of romaine lettuce and throwing some dressing on it. Yes, the mixing is tedious. No, it still doesn't count.)

Risking sacrificing her sinus cavity and pulls in her pants, this is love.

Thank you!

About Charlie- Not Sheen

So last night, or technically this morning, at 1:30 AM, my right calf got a really bad charlie horse. I jumped up to walk on it and stretch it out- which has always worked for me. Well, it did not. So I tried hobbling over to the computer and fell and cried because now it was going on five minutes of sheer pain. And I don't really care if I am a baby. I mean, I do. I would love to be tougher, but apparently, when you age as rapidly as I do, other normal functions like pain receptors in the body become hyper-sensitive. So yeah, I cried. Cute side note: Marley was laying next to me on the floor whimpering or whining in unison with me. I think she thought we were howling for extra dinner or something.

I hobbled over to the computer on my knees and typed in something like: "how get ridd of keg cramps?" And Google did not let me down. Some of the results did. Do you know that one in four people over the age of fifty experience leg cramps often, averaging three nights a week? And once you get to over the age of eighty, it's about fifty percent of the people? How am I going to jump out of bed when my leg is seizing in pain at 80 years of age? Through my superb math skills, I guesstimate that to be the equivalent of an average person's 145. If I jump on my leg, the bones could just turn to powder. Does powder cramp?

After twelve minutes, the cramp subsided. TWELVE MINUTES. In cramp terms, that's like 3 weeks, easy. I was so emotionally drained from trying to think how I could get down my stairs and drive with my right cramping leg in the passenger seat while my clutzy left leg jerked it's way to the emergency room. I slept like a drugged baby.

And speaking of drugs, and clutsy.... I wake up this morning with not only a limp, but a super sexy waddle. Turns out that the universe thought that I could get to work still fairly easily with just a painful-to-the-touch limping calf leg. So why not give me my pre-menstrual lower back cramps? That should slow me down! So I gingerly make my way into the kitchen, trying to not think of myself as a zombie extra from The Walking Dead, and I ever so gracefully knock my new bottle of Excedrin Menstrual Complete behind my stove. And no, that is not an endorsement, Yes, the pills work really well, but why would they make the bottle so standardized and disgustingly easy to knock behind my oven? I can't move my oven- I can barely move myself! So I made the executive decision of not taking anything at all until I could get to the store because it wouldn't work as well. I waddled and limped my way across midtown, hobbled down the escalator and bought Potassium pills, Excedrin menstrual pills and was going to joke with the cashier about where the guns were hiding, but I think there was a solid 25% chance that he would have just lifted his shirt. And then I would have needed the new underwear aisle as well.

Whatever Happened To Ingenuity?

I found a link for a beer belly for purchase on Amazon. HERE. Here's to hoping that this would be purchased for funny disguises and Halloween outfits. When you want to dress up as. Um. This guy.

And I understand not wanting to grow your own. Do you know how much beer costs these days?! But what upsets me is that this exists. Whatever happened to a stuffed pillowcase? Or a large water balloon. Or a beanie stuffed animal, a young child, my Yorkie before a haircut, the cuttings scooped up from a full day's work at Supercuts, garbage, nuclear waste in a ziploc bag. How many things can I come up with in moments? And some people just point and click? Belly Fail.

Strawberry Cheesecake Jell-O Time!

Love.
Jell-O.
(150) Calories.
Tastes.
So.
Real.

Forget dessert. This just became my new favorite breakfast food! Thank you, Jell-O temptations. And this has not been a paid endorsement. Because if they were paying me, I would insist on all Jell-O cups and I would be too covered in pudding-y goodness to risk gunking up my keyboard - further.

P.S. Don't buy too many, as I want them.

P.P.S. If you go in with low expectations, you will be thrilled. If you go in with high expectations, you will merely be satisfied.

P.P.P.S. Jell-O, if you are reading this, I was only kidding about not accepting cash.

Butter: More Than Just A Heart Attack

Fight Fire With Butter

So good news, The South. You don't need to go to Walmart to get any fire extinguishers. Just throw your top few refrigerator shelves at the flames.

Quote Of The Day

Roxanna (24 years old): "I named my dog Layla. And apparently, I don't know if you know this, but there is an Eric Clapton song called Layla."

*I feel ancient.

Japan's 8.9 Earthquake

I am sending out my warm wishes and prayers to those already affected and those still waiting to be affected by Japan's 8.9 killer Earthquake that has caused massive Tsunami's to go through Hawaii and start penetrating the entire West Coast of the United States. It can be easy for these words to become desensitized. Earthquakes by the Pacific Ocean. Tsunami's starting in Asia. Rain falling from dark clouds. It is, thankfully, sometimes difficult to imagine the magnitude of natural disasters. Do you know what I do when one of the lanes in the Lincoln Tunnel is shut down because of a fender bender? I try to determine that the accident did, in fact, have no fatalities. Then I wonder how it could be physically possible that there isn't someone with more that 19 brain cells in their head that can get a third lane to merge with two active ones. How come all three lanes stop moving when only the left one has a delay? Then I text or call work. Maybe a friend or two to try and see where they are stuck or if they were one of the lucky ones that escaped the frenzy.

It really is unfathomable to imagine water slamming into our streets and lifting up cars and entire houses and demolishing bridges. Forget about trying to wrap my head around losing someone, or many someone's. To help better visualize, or memorialize, and to never trivialize, the LA Times has put together this amazing photographic compilation, on a dime, might I had.

Disaster In Photos

A tried and true welcome place for donations: The Red Cross.

An Easy No.

So I was perusing Media Life, came upon this article and wanted to share this excerpt:

Finally, in this morning's last bit of Sheen news, the actor is hiring an intern. His ad on internships.com promises an eight-week paid gig this summer to someone who is "all about winning." The job will include increasing Sheen's followers on Twitter, which now number 2.35 million.

Can you imagine being the parent of the kid who gets hired for that job? The list of reminders you'd need to run down each morning would probably be as exhausting as just entirely monitoring them during the day in person. Don't touch the hookers! Don't use the bathroom! Stay away from things that say baby powder, baking soda, ash, salt, sugar, powdered sugar, and definitely coke! Don't listen to your employer, don't let him touch you! And remember: it's not about winning; this is a lose-lose scenario.

If You Pay In Full...

So I just got this incredible email from my Chase Slate credit card account. It went beyond the limits of ordinary stupidity that I have become immune to and just accept as a major part of life. Basically, this truly unique credit card is now not only explaining to me how if I were to pay my entire credit card balance at once, I would avoid interest charges; it is also offering me the opportunity to do just that! I should go ahead and close all of my other accounts with any other credit card, because all of the others would never let me pay my full balance at once.



What's that? They allow you to pay as much as you want? You can even pay over the amount that you owe and have any overage act as a balance credit in your account? Well, the all of the other credit cards must charge you interest even when the whole balance is paid in full.

Oh, yeah? Well, then, hmmm... Do those credit cards work in stores, too? Are they made out of plastic and have this really cute rectangular box on the back that you can choose to sign your very own name in? Do other credit cards send you REALLY stupid emails?

Quote of the Day

K: "I was on the men's bathroom, someone was dropping heat."

I: "I don't know what that means. Thank G-d."

Carrie's Rock!

From some crazed and clearly deranged lunatic:

THEY ARE ACHING ME

Good Lord Almighty. I just crossed my arms over my chest for a second while I was talking to someone and I had to hold in a grimace. Judging from this pain, I should be getting my period soon. Or maybe, I am about to give birth to a rabid satanic creature so my body is preparing by killing every nerve ending and pain receptor in my chest so that when this being feeds on me, I won't die of pain- just blood loss- except the only way to deaden these nerves are apparently by reaching new and maximum heights of pain.

I can't imagine what I would be like if I were dramatic!!! I guess I'll never breastfeed!


And the most appropriate response you can imagine:

When we were at school our games were simple
I played the janitor you played a monitor
Then you played with older boys and prefects
What's the attraction in what they're doing?

(Chorus)
Hey Carrie Anne What's your game now
Can anybody play
Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play

You're always something special to me
Quite independent never caring
You lost your charm as you were aging
Where is your magic dissappearing

Chorus

You're so, so like a woman to me
so like a woman to me
So, so like a woman to me
So like a woman to me

Chorus

People live and learn
But you're still learning
You use my mind and I'll be your teacher
When the lesson's over you'll be with me
Then I'll hear the other people saying

Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play
Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play

Runners' Up:

Second Place: Hmm. Pregnant. I think I am, too.
Third Place: I will not babysit.

Snowpacolypse 2011 (cont.)

Just to share with everyone: My new best friend is named Accuweather. She lets me know how many scarves to wrap around my head. And one night. an actual friend person of mine, Melissa, let me know to check my town's forecast for that night.

That's right, Maywoodians. While driving between a few really popular malls, fully paved streets and high traffic, be careful when pulling your gun out and taking aim at your potential dinner. We had poor hunting conditions.

Snowpacolypse 2011

For those of you in Georgia... No. For those of you in New Mexico... No. Las Vegas? Hmmm...

For those of you in the very southern tip of Texas, living without any modern technology or access to national news information, we've had some snow. And not just some. Mounds and feet and inches and drifts and piles and puddles and mountains and heaps in New Jersey. And let's not forget ice storms! I didn't really know what an ice storm could do until I saw it in action on top of multiple feet of snow. Now I can say, "Yes. Yes, I do know what ice on top of snow does. It seals in the dirt and ensures that even the 'safe, crunchy steps' that you depended on utilizing when you thought the regular ground was too slippery will be, indeed, too slippery." I particularly like how all of the gray dirt and grime and debris particles get trapped inside the layer of snow and ice and act as a constant reminder of death.

And I've always been a fan of snow. Until I met it's evil twin: Snow in the City. A direct quote from my father: "What? The city is beautiful when it snows, at least at first." Sure. just like diseased cells are beautiful. They are complex and discerning and challenging. They cause discussions and create jobs. But really, who wants them?

In New York City, when snow falls, horns start. And that's as good as it's going to get. Can you imagine the filth that kicks up from everywhere? There are individuals in Port Authority that I believe, with a good spritz from a hydrant, could contaminate half a city block with, hmmm, diseased cells. And snow doesn't actually exist in Manhattan. In the outer boroughs, the affordable areas where tax dollars leave but never come back, it snows and stays there for months. But in the city, foot traffic and the heat rising from underground trains turns what should be something amazing like fluffy snowflakes into 4 foot wide puddles of gray, hazardous slush. This radioactive sludge gets kicked up all of your pants as people slip and slide on their way to work. If everyone just slowed down a little, I could get to work clean! Or speed up a little, and I could use your backs as stepping stones.

But I don't want to make it seem like I haven't appreciated this weather. Aside from ravaging my bus schedule and trapping my car both on and off of my driveway, it has provided wonder and amazement. Like the women I see in mini-skirts with no stocking and stiletto heels. That is unreal! And the minimum of four people a week that I would see with flips flops on. Flat completely open sandals? Forget about frostbite, do you want radioactive slush encasing your toes? (I think those people turn into those said individuals in Port Authority I mentioned earlier.)

It's warmer now. At least for long enough for my immune system to acclimate and let it's guard down. Snow is the clear victor this season. It's been a real Winter. Global warming? So you say...

Quote of the Day

K: "Dogs have both hair and fur? That blows my mind. What's next? Some dogs have mumps?"

Me: "Maybe that's what's wrong with Marley!"

Orange Tabby Time

If anyone asks, I am not a cat person. I don't speak cat, I don't like their wildness and the fact that they put their teeth inside of dead and alive rodents. *shudder* I don't like the hives that form all over my body or the hair that get caught in my throat. I don't understand why anyone would be slave to an animal who won't even care if they are home or not.

But, they have their merits. They are beautiful. They are wild. They are clean and self sufficient and don't need to sit inside of your chest while you try to unwind from work for a blessed twenty minutes until you give up, go to bed and hide under the covers while the dogs dig and try to burrow their way inside. Also, they are beautiful.

There is a fat orange tabby cat that lives on the front lawn of the house across the street from me. I assume that it belongs to the family in that house: lovely people, by the way. But the truth is, I have never seen it entering or leaving the house, it may just like that patch of grass. It's pretty well maintained. (Don't judge me! I need to kiss up where applicable. Some neighbors aren't going to like me to much when I cover their cars in their beer bottles and pizza boxes since they obviously don't want the thrown out. I know this to be the case since they have NEVER actually brought their waste to the curb.)

Last week, said cat was in my driveway as I was walking up. My only thought was, "Oh, a cat." Last night, after making a dinner time take-out sushi run, I parked and was walking down the driveway and there was the cat again. The second time I've seen it on my property and also in a long time, and my only though was, "There's the cat that is too cute and chubby and I just love him so much!" I tried to compose myself, by here was this cat, slowly walking towards me, meowing, tail languidly swinging up in the air, and just looking so expectant. As my dogs have nailed "I'm sorry" with their eyes, this cat has mastered "Please please please please please don't leave my side."

So obviously, I sat on the partially ice covered cement stairs in literally freezing weather and played with the cat. He (I am guessing here) rubbed all around my legs and purred in between meowing. When I pet him, he moved into my hand and then would throw himself onto his back and start rolling around like a goofball, but when I would make a move closer to my front door, he was underfoot, giving me that LOOK! Obviously, I gave the cat some Crab Roll and helped him unroll it to get to the good stuff. I had to call my friend and asked him to give me all the reasons as to why I couldn't bring this cat inside with me. Aside from my swelling hand, the growling dogs, and the fact that the very nice people across the street are very likely his owners. I made it inside, but have been thinking about him all day.

He had no collar. He walks around too freely. He likes sushi. I hope he made it inside last night. But it is a good thing I don't have a farm. It would be shut down by Animal Planet. They'd be all, "Listen lady, nobody NEEDS 65 horses." And I'd be all, "But fake officers: There are 65 baby carrots PER baby carrot package! This makes sense!"

Quote of the Day

Poetry Corner: 3:38 PM EST

Carrie: "At this time everyday, the sun begins to descend and what happens is it blinds me and my computer screen."

Ah, the natural simplistic wonder that is a sunset.

Frozen "Foods," If You Will

Frozen foods are so easy. And cancerous. And delicious. And life shortening. I try to keep fresh vegetables in my fridge. I like them more than anything. But they go bad so quickly. Most of the time, it's a bowl of cereal for me when I feel like flexing my creative cooking juices mid-week. And yes, every so often, I peruse the frozen foods aisle and scan for a good deal. Not a good deal on my health, but if I see a box of mozzarella sticks for $1.99, my resolve weakens. Besides, my rational is that only the first two will be texturally appetizing. Then the cheese gets hard and disgusting and I throw the rest out. Or, my favorite, I get a little preoccupied with some shiny object and all the cheese explodes out of the sticks. I will pick at some hot cheese for about a minute, and then wrap the tin foil up and say, "Sayonara!"

In my quest for a long, healthy, happy life, I have really been focusing on keeping only the appropriate and uber healthy foods in the freezer. Ice pops, frozen yogurt, some homemade soups that are growing icicle hair that I refuse to get rid of in case that hair creates some sort of beard that makes the face of Jesus in my freezer so I can go ahead and claim my thirteen seconds of fame on the second to last page of The National Enquirer. I bet my grandmother had no idea I would nurture and support her vegetable soup in hopes of creating Jesus Soup.

For those of you with an equal interest in freakish things in your freezer, but with perhaps substantially less time and patience than I am willing to commit to their progress, or maybe for those suffering from three year old palates, I present to you Buzzfeed's list of 15 awfully disturbing frozen foods: The List

I'll switch things up and build some momentum, starting from the bottom up.

#15. Stouffer's Welsh Rarebit. Because what's worse than eating rabbit? This.
#14. Microwaveable Pork Rinds. Because pork rinds don't sound unhealthy enough, let's have them soak up some micro-waves before ingesting.
#13. Mr. Brain's Pork Faggots. KID.YOU.NOT.
#12. Chili Spaghetti. Because it's going to look like poo on one end, let's just focus on continuity.
#11. Crispy Pancakes, filled with minced beef. Because saying empanada would have totally like uh ruined the whole pancake vibe, man.
#10. Soft baked Buns Mini Cheeseburgers. Because our teeth work hard enough on soft buns, we should insist everything else is pre-chewed for us!
#9. Chocolate Chip Pancakes and Sausage on a Stick. Because when your teeth fall out of your head due to a healthy mix of malnutrition and missing dental hygiene, these sticks can be broken into small pieces and shoved into your empty tooth sockets.
#8. Japon Frozen Sushi. Because nothing says "fresh raw food" like "freezer-burned old food."
#7. Chicken Breast Rings. Because if people are focusing on the fun shapes, maybe they won't be focusing in on what they're crunching, I mean chewing, on.
#6. Pizza Pops, Three Meat. Because, okay, I've got nothing; except a very real craving for Pizza Pops.
#5. Pizza and Chocolate Chip Cookies. Because we need to save Mother Earth, conserve on paper goods that are recyclable, saving lives is so much less hip these days. Duh.
#4. Breyer's Bubble Yum Ice Cream. Because after you think about this one for a moment, and start gagging in your mouth, you MAY think, "Hmmm, there's a slight chance that could taste an iota better than my own stomach acid."
#3. Pickle Pops. Because, uhhh, because... I got nothing.
#2. Eggo Real Fruit Pizza. Because nothing says Italian food like Belgian waffles, granola, strawberries and an aftertaste of Diabetes.
#1. Obama Fingers. Because how else should we honor and revere the President of the United States than to name some chicken fingers served with curry dipping sauce after him? Oh, I know!!! Fry them!

The History of "Social Media"

I just realized, with the help of good old Mashable, that everyone I know is fluent in some dialect of Social Media. It stemmed from an email.

The Entire History Here (Infographic)

We are all one.

A Little Gym Etiquette

I recently joined Blink Fitness, and what I enjoy most about it is all of the machines, or the cheap price, or the location. Those are smart answers. What I really like are the little notes that the designers leave all over the walls in random spots. For instance, one says something along the lines of "Grunting. No. Do we really need to go there?" That's how I would handle it in my own make believe gym. Actually, it would read more like, "Grunting. No. Do we really need to go there? Because I will, mister! I will mic you up and have the whole parking lot hear how loud you're grunting for your 30 pound weights. Sticking your chest out does not make you appear taller. And grunting does not make you seem stronger. The opposite, for both, actually."

I think in my make believe gym, I might be assassinated. Apparently by an angry, loud, short, weak man. Oh, what grunting can lead to!

Thankfully Slate is here to help us through some potentially awkward gym scenarios with some Gym Etiquette here.

Buying Into The Family

You know how movies can glorify Mafia life, but always seem to take a hard look at the life of a Mafia wife? Well, I can scream it out loud, "I DON'T CARE!" Nothing has ever been able to demystify their existences to me. And if you are anything like me, maybe you would be interested in learning that the CORLEONE COMPOUND IS NOW FOR SALE. That's right, kids: The house is real, it's available, and it's shooting your name into the inside of your eardrum. It's in Staten Island, so there are so many cultural amenities you could take advantage of. You could find a deserted Italian place and have some spaghetti and marinara sauce. But if someone spends a few minutes too long in the bathroom, you should probably leave. Also, you can go swimming with the fishes. Or at least wade through water with them. I'm not sure how much trash and severed body parts float in the water down there, but there are things alive you could splash around with definitely. Really, the only drawback that I can think of is that it's listed at $2.9 million. So I am out of the running, unless I marry a Corleone of my own.

Remember, this house is no different than any powerful house, any house with power, like a president's house or a senator's house.