Ah-Mazing Spoofing

I'm not totally ashamed to admit I'm into the whole Twilight thing. I must confess the books were great and I shed a tear once I finished Breaking Dawn. If I were grading the movies I would give them a B. I'll watch 'em but I'm not casting a vote for The People's Choice Awards (well if I ever were to actually vote).

Anyway this spoof video makes me laugh. Like all the best stuff, it's best enjoyed after multiple viewings and with an audience. You're welcome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sILnTjYlNxc

New Year's Resolutions

I've never been one to make New Year's resolutions. This is because I assume I will break them by January 2nd. But this year I will join the millions who hope to alter their behavior, for good, as of January 1, 2010.

I have been a smoker since the age of 18. On and off for years and mostly triggered by any number of alcoholic beverages. A sip is enough for my brain to recognize that something is amiss. Some synapses will fire off some chemicals and I get a little twitchy. By the end of the beer I am excusing myself to the nearest bodega to pay $11 for something that will do nothing but ease my discomfort and slowly kill me. As you have read before I blame a lot of my substandard behavior on booze. You're probably thinking I should just stop drinking. And if you are thinking that you should probably start reading a different blog because we will never get each other. However, I do plan on cutting down on the amount I drink but I'm not giving up the sauce completely. I just am giving up the justification to smoke because I'm half in the bag (or simply looking at the bag).

It all started at the age of 18 because my college boyfriend and best friend both smoked daily. People were actually shocked when they found out I smoked. "You smoke?! I never woulda pinned you as a smoker." I used to get that same reaction from people when I told them I was agnostic. "You're what?! I thought you were a Christian." Why anyone would make any assumptions about my lifestyle beats me. It's like saying to them "You watched Alf?! I never woulda pinned you as an Alf watcher. More like an A-Team fan." Yeah well guess what, you don't know me. And it was the tone associated with it. Complete disgust. Like they just found out I was an axe murderer and had taken-out half my town. I digress.

I never considered myself a smoker but since I actually put cigs in my mouth, light them up, and inhale the wondrous nicotine and 599 other chemicals (some sites claim 4,000), I am in fact a smoker. So I am going on the record that I am going to give up the little bundles of cancer for good.

While I was being introspective I decided to try and resolve a few other things:

2-Cut down on the hooch
3-Lose weight
4-Run more
5-Take better care of skin and hair
6-Stop Face Book stalking. It may, in fact, be ruining my life
7-Be more tolerant of idiots and A-holes.
8-Start dating more. Um not sure how this is going to happen since I NEVER ask guys out. Hmmm suggestions?
9-Forgive and FORGET the exes.
10-Stop drunk texting and Face Booking (see #2 & #6 & #9)
11-Focus on today and not so much on tomorrow. Oh wait but Jersey Shore is on tomorrow. Can't wait for that!!!
12-Seriously stay within budget and don't try to justify purchases. I mean my pup Oscar could use a pair of shoes though. His lil Mexican feet get cold and there is a serious broken glass problem on my street.
13-Start keeping up with the New York Times. It's awkward NEVER knowing what is going on in the world outside of me ZZzzzzzzz. Oops I'm awake.
14-Be better about completing the items on my to do list. First being to actually read the list rather than just writing stuff down and never looking over it.
15-Let go of the goal of being either a pop star or a half-pipe snowboarding gold medalist. Self: you missed the boat.
16-Buy Rock Band and the X-Box 360 so I can live out #15 in the comfort of my own home. Oh wait #12 is yelling at me.

And Lastly,
16-Stop being so hard on myself. Maybe I should get a drink. Oooh and a smoke.

I will hang in there and not stop dreaming Richard Simmons.

J. No No No

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeeVjmAkEqA

Last night I was watching the So You Think You Can Dance finale and I was irritated about 2 things 1) Jakob did not win (although way to represent Boston Russell!) b) J. Lo's lip syncing and Louboutin song was atrocious. I mean I know you're a fly girl and you need to dance while you sing but holy lord J. Lo you need to work on the lip syncing. Or how about you dance less and sing live? The whole performance I spent looking through my fingers in horror. She was lip syncing and still sounded horrible.

And your song is retarded. "But it's the last time, I'm movin' on, I'm throwing on my Louboutins." "Watch these Red bottoms, And the back of my jeans." Seriously? The song is pathetic. Never mind that it stole these lyrics "I'm just a part time lover" and "Don't know what you got until it's gone". VOMIT! I know I've been a hater lately but this song just put me over the edge. First of all because I'm sick of idiot chicks talking about, "you know...the shoes with the red bottoms". Those shoes are designed by Christian Louboutin. Know why they have a red bottom? He was inspired by a drawing of a shoe with a red line through the heel. Know why people buy his shoes? a)they are gorgeous b) they are a status symbol like a Louis Vuitton bag.

J. Lo we do not need lil girls singing about leaving their creep boyfriends in $700 shoes. We are in a recession. Shit I would own every pair I could get my hands on if I could afford them, but I can't. Nor can most people. So can't we just leave them where they belong? They belong in fashion, on the runway, on people who can afford them, on celebrities, and on Madison Ave where I ogle them and walk away. I had a pair back when they were $400. But then I came to my senses and returned the money pits to Neiman where a much richer person could give them the one or two wears they deserved. If I had kept them I would have worn them to the gym, to clean my house, and to get the mail in jammies.

And don't walk away with just your Louboutins and jeans. Walk away with the 50" screen plasma and his wallet. Make a real statement.

I'm not a Louboutin hater (o'contraire) I am a "J. Lo are you freaking serious?" hater. Take Skeletor, AKA your hubby, and sing some ballads about your incomprehensible love of each other. Oh P.S. "Love?" is a great title for your latest CD J. Lo...guess what Bel, Biv, Devoe's is also called "Love". And I sure as hell would take some of their "Poison" over your craptastic "Louboutins". Stick to dancing in your Louboutins I'm gonna take the cotton out from my bleeding ears.

Yes I'm that disgusted.

Buy...Mmmmm...This

I came across this chocolate at the notoriously, outrageously over-priced market called Eli's. The thing about Eli's is that it is over-priced because they have really high quality stuff in there. Fresh ravioli's (addicted), beautiful tomatoes, and lettuce that doesn't shrivel and turn brown in 14 hours. So as I was heading to the cashier to blow my paycheck I decided I need some chocolate. To buy an Eli's chocolate bar it would've cost me $12 (I'm not laughing, I'm dead serious). Instead I chose a lil chocolate nugget for less than half the price. Granted it was small I just HAD to have it and it was affordable.

When it came time to eat this lil morsel I really didn't have very high hopes for it. It was Dark Chocolate Granola. Well I bit in and wasn't it the lil bit of girl-next-door-grows-up amazingness! Now I am officially addicted. It is called the 5 Star Chocolate Bar made in Vermont by Lake Champlain Chocolates. You can buy them for a fraction of the price through the company and man-O-man you will become an addict too. Santa please add them to my list. Here is the website and it happens to bring you right to my favorite kind: Granola (whaddup tree-huggers!). A yum yum yum.

http://www.lakechamplainchocolates.com/Chocolate/Five-Star-Chocolate-Bar/Granola-Five-Star-Bars.aspx

Dear Santa,

I know I have been greedy in the past. Asking for a pony, a Pogo Ball, a Sony Water-Resistant Discman, Prada boots, is not something I am going to do this year. Why? Because you never got any of those for me. And also because I need some damn necessities I'm too broke to even buy.



1) I need a can opener. The picture above is what I am currently using. Am I a wagon leader on the Oregon Trail? No. I live in freaking Manhattan. My parents came to visit and brought over some food to cook at my place. I went to lift the lid of one of the cans when I realized it's not a pop top. Hunh. Well it was then I realized that instead of walking 100 feet to Duane Reade I was gonna bust out the Leatherman I have used to solely to open beer bottles and jerry-rig broken necklaces with. Except my parents weren't impressed they were horrified that I have not even faced this dilemma since moving to my place in July. So Santa, I need a can opener that doesn't take 35-45 minutes to open a can and was not used in the 1800's.



2) I need a wine opener. I currently have the one pictured above. You may be thinking I'm being greedy again, right Santa? Well when my parents were over the very same "can opener incident" night I accidentally left it on the stove where my dad was cooking. I mean I was drinking wine. Since the can opener is plastic, it melted quickly and boy it smelled awful. So take the opener above and melt 1/3 of it. I still use it but I'm not so chic-in-the-city now am I? So Santa, please don't let my parents be horrified at my lifestyle in NYC (and living this way at 31). I'd actually be giving back to my community. I'm giving my parents peace of mind that I'm not a total train wreck.


3) I need an umbrella. Why is there not a picture of one above? Because I don't have one. Not even a broken one. Has it rained? Yes. Have I bought one to replace the 3 the Manhattan winds have destroyed? No. (Chicago you sure you're windier than here? I think we should call in some scientists) Why have I not bought one? Because I'm still not over the complete demolition of my first three umbrellas. They were adequate umbrellas. There are just some cross-town trade-winds that hate me and my sweet, innocent umbrellas. So Santa, I need the kind of umbrella you would give to an Everest climber if they were worried about rain and not death.

XOXO

Yaya

Just Dance

I'm trying to get back into shape after being out for the last few months with an IT Band injury. I probably could have started being active awhile ago but I milked the injury for as much time off as possible. To even consider jumping back into running is just a little too much right now, and it's freezing outside. So I turned to my favorite recreational activity, dancing.

My training in dance amounts to years of junior high and high school Roger-Rabbiting, Cabbage-Patching, and Kid-'N-Playing. In fact, I mastered these forms and have busted them out at weddings, in clubs, and on the sidewalk. I also studied in Costa Rica in college so I perfected the gringa version of the salsa and merengue. My hips don't lie but they are also delusional.

Anyway I went to a dance studio after calling and interrogating the Russian receptionist. I made her assure me that it was a beginner class and that I would be just fine. "No training NEEDED right?" "vight, nyet training needed." "I mean it's really easy choreography right?" "Da, easy choreography." So I put on my dancing Nikes and jumped into the class. We started right away with 1 and 2 and 3 and 4. I'm like alright I got this. 30 minutes later when we were still building our routine I realized that I would probably not get the chance to display my Roger Rabbit. In fact, I couldn't remember past the first 5, 6, 7, 8. I left after an hour barely sweating and feeling really stupid. Oh the other people in the class?...They were great and completed the routine flawlessly.

On my walk home I thought to myself ok maybe I'm not stupid, I mean I am in New York and the other people in my class certainly have taken dance before so I need to stick to gym dance classes. I then signed up for a 2 week trial at NYSC. I marched right into the hip hop dance class and remained in the back of the class even though I wanted to show off my moves in the front. As the teacher was setting up his play list Lady Gaga pumped out and it was on. Then after warming up he says "for those of you who have never taken this class you're gonna wanna stay in the back. We're building on a routine from last week." I almost yelled out a NOOOOOOO! What followed? A routine that could be on So You Think You Can Dance. I mean he thought he was Shane Sparks. It was obvious everyone in the class had formal training except for me. I looked like Elaine Benes occasionally throwing in jazz hands in a hip hop class. I left class like a child who is afraid of getting hit by balls leaving soccer practice: relieved it's over and traumatized.

So what the hell is going on in this city anyway? Is it not okay to be a mediocre dancer and just follow the instructor while you pretend like you can Pop and Lock? Since when are gyms all-star dance studios? It's like New York is telling me "if you aren't the best then why bother?" But I scraped myself up off the dance floor the next night and went to a Zumba class. It was mostly latin dancing and an added lil hip hop edge to it. I danced in the front of the class and followed the teacher like the Roger-Rabbiting pro I know.

Social Netmare

This morning I woke up and checked all of my social networking websites: hotmail, gmail, Face Book, Google Wave, Google Blogger (Yaya site), Twitter, and company email. At one point I was talking to 2 people via IM on Face Book, one on my gmail account, and I was texting another. I can spend anywhere from 5 minutes to 15 hours just messing around with all these accounts. They are not assisting me in the marketing of a product or even networking for work. They are simply sites that I have joined because I wanted to check them out. But I am exhausted. I rarely tweet, I share most of the funny pictures/videos I find on my Yaya site or Face Book. That eliminates the need for the Google Wave. Why do I have 3 email accounts?

I understand that companies are trying to be "the" networking site but checking all is wasting valuable life time for me. I mean I could be reading the New York Times or Scientific American (AKA People Magazine/TMZ) online and actually feeding my brain instead of reading that so-and-so on Face Book just changed their kid's diaper or milked the cows on FarmVille. Speaking of, what the hell is FarmVille?

Anyway it's all too overwhelming and I have nothing to gain but lost time. Thankfully I deleted my My Space account last year so that's one less to check...

Age of The Fake

In a time where everyone has a video camera and can remaster their videos, people really need to get better at spotting when a video is a set-up and when it is real. Here are some examples. You decide if they are real or fake. My answers will be at the bottom and they are correct.

A:


B:


C:


D:


A) Fun and Fake; B) Creepy and Fake; C) Just Fake; D) Amazing, Hilarious, and Real

Wait For It...

So Happy Together

I very much miss this dynamic duo.

Blow on This

It has occurred to me on several foggy mornings that I probably should not have _________ (texted/FaceBooked/blogged/emailed) the night before. I've woken up and looked at my __________ (phone/computer) and realized that I had contacted someone I didn't even give a crap about because I was half in the bag. I have never said anything mean, in fact, I'm a pretty nice drunk. I don't call anyone hammered anymore I just type away. I typically have correct grammar and spelling even though I'm typing like a chimpanzee with one eye shut. And if I were to talk at that moment would be scheriously schlurring. When I'm in the mood to contact dudes I've dated there needs to be a way to stop me.

So I figured it out...I will soon patent the Phone/Computer Breathalyzer. Curtsy. The only contact you can make is to a) call the police on yourself for drunk driving, b) call 911 to let them know how angry you are that computer doesn't work and ask to speak with their IT guy c) write in your own inbox what an ass you are for trying to contact ___________ (insert name here).

Is this blog making you miss Mad Libs as much as me right now?!

Oh and while searching for drunk texting photos I stumbled upon this gem:

Just A Spoonfull of Money

Ahhh life. Makes you think sometimes: What the hell am I doing?! This recent thought came to me when I was health insurance shopping. Fun? You betcha. My COBRA from the last job I quit is about to expire in January. My current company is Canadian and doesn't understand that $400/ month only covers my lovely (oh how I will miss thee) COBRA. I found the 3 major health insurance providers in NYC. My coverage options:

$150/month: Emergency hospital care only (but reviews stated that most hospital bills they sent in were "not covered")

$450/month: $3,000 deductible, no office visits covered (so what am I paying for? I'd rather fill a swimming pool with money like Scrooge McDuck)

$1490/month: (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-vomit)

I mean what is going on in this city/world? The only way I would qualify for reduced health care is if I made under $20,000. If I made $20,000 I sure as hell wouldn't be living in NYC. This city hoses you with city taxes, $6 canned soups, and the highest rent in the country. Now they're gonna charge $1490 for one person's health insurance?! I'm 31, no major medical issues, no monthly prescriptions, I get a physical and PAP every year, and they are gonna charge me that?! I am so disgusted with the industry that I simply wanna give them the bird and start building that damn coin pool.

I mean I've always known that health insurance is expensive but New York is absurd. At least in Massachusetts there are more options, less expensive ones at that. Getting a job with benefits certainly outweighs a position with a slightly better salary. My Canadian company just has no idea.

A Vibrating What?!

Ok I'm a huge fan and frequent purchaser of all sorts of make-up. My Caboodle is so embarrassingly full that I can barely close it. With what? I have no idea. Glitter and one-use eye shadows probably. But I'm so not sold on a mascara that vibrates.

When applying mascara or waterproof liquid liner I have the precision of a surgeon. If I did not I would look like a hot mess. But to have an applicator vibrate?! I don't want anything gyrating near my eyeballs and I wonder who would? I mean look at the picture. Do you want that thing coming at your face? Does it really add that much more than my manual strokes cannot? I doubt it. I mean it sounds as logical as a vibrating lip pencil. My lips would look like this <>^>^<>^<^>^<^>^<

After watching the video I wasn't impressed. http://www.lancome-usa.com/beautyschool/videos/lush-lashes.aspx In fact it made me feel good about spending only $6 on my Great Lash. This one costs $34.

I mean wouldn't massaging 6" stilettos be a greater use of electronics? Don't go patenting that on me now.

Retired

**those are not my feet.

I'm retiring. That's right I've just decided it's time to hang up my hat and you're gonna help me.

Soooo I had this idea after realizing that there have been 6 Ad clicks on my blog and I made $3. First, thank you to those who click on the stupid ads. Now here's my plan. If each of you click on an advertisement to the right of my blog I'll eventually make enough to retire. What do you get in return? Me. I will come visit you, and entertain you like a monkey. I mean it's a win-win here people. I would sit here all day and click on the ads myself but that is illegal. I don't think I'll get arrested but I certainly won't get paid. And no one wants that.

And if you're a major contributor and can prove it, I'll bring you the gift of the Dick Towel. I mean if that doesn't send you clicking I don't know what will.

Parents make sure your kids are not in the room when you check out the precious Dick Towel. The little bird is not as aggressive as the large one. Oh, and start watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia if you don't already.

http://www.dicktowel.com/dicktowel.html

Buy

Listen, I don't work for Rolling Stone or Brooklyn Vegan and I certainly have nothing but street cred for my solid ear (and by street cred I mean self-felicitations). But you need to buy these TODAY unless you're into Enya or something ridiculous like that.

DRUMMER: I came across this band via Ohmyrockness.com. Little did I know that I was about to be fish hooked. The most well known member is Patrick Carney of The Black Keys on bass. The other members include Jamie Stillman of Teeth of the Hydra, formerly of Party of Helicopters (guitar), Jon Finley of Beaten Awake, also formerly of Party of Helicopters (vocals, guitar), Stephen Clements of Houseguest and Six Parts Seven (keys, vocals) and Greg Boyd of Ghostman and Sandman (drums). My friend Ryan classified them as "power rhythm" and rightly so being that they are all drummers from their other bands.

My brother and I saw them play at the Mercury Lounge in October. They sounded clean, tight, and just like their album. But they did not interact with the audience much.  I think some guy may have pissed them off in the front row.  But seriously just buy their album "Feel Good Together" immediately, if not sooner, and I will take your "thank you" in advance.


ROYAL BANGS: Opening for them were Royal Bangs. Holy Lord, they totally rocked my world. Great beats and unexpected rhythm shifts. My brother actually yelled out "you're a lot better than I thought you were gonna be" breaking a brief silence (not sure what would've come out of his mouth had he not loved them). The band heard him too because when we talked to them outside the guitarist actually asked him if he was the one that yelled it. They are cool guys too (at least through a beer haze they were). I do have a lil crush on the lead singer now and his voice. So don't pass by their music. Check out the songs "Brother", "Handcuff Killa", and "Poison Control". Or just buy all 3 of their albums and SEE THEM LIVE! You're welcome.


TIMBER TIMBRE: They opened for the Royal Bangs and I regretfully missed them. If you like the recent explosive revival of folksy, rural-living indie you will like these guys. Check-out "Lay Down In The Tall Grass" and "Like a Mountain". Great curl-up-by-the-fire or contemplative traveling music.

Ugh

What is the world coming to? Uggs have been "in fashion" (I use that loosely) for enough years now. They look hobbity (yes Lord of The Rings), sloppy, and should only be worn on snowy or super lazy days. I am solely talking about the tan, shapeless ones. That being said, when was it decided that it was okay for a dude to wear them in public? Regardless of sexual orientation, WHEN WAS IT DECIDED THAT IT WAS OKAY FOR A DUDE TO WEAR UGGS IN PUBLIC?! Did you get that fashion memo because I did not.

Ummm do you also love how I blatantly took a picture of the guy and his "girlfriend". I mean the guy is looking right at me and smiling. Immediately after hearing the shutter noise of my camera phone I pretended like I was actually trying to get service. I would make a terrible PI. I need to work on that.

Dear Diary,

The problem with starting a blog is that if you make it 100% anonymous you don't get the joy of sharing your posts with friends and family. The problem with announcing your blog is that you now have to remember who you invited and try not to write shit about them. You also have to monitor what/how much you are sharing. Especially if your mom and dad read it like mine do. Not that I wanna talk smack about them but that some things need editing.

There have been a few friends I have left off intentionally because my initial blogs were about them. I have somehow still managed to keep in touch with these notoriously jerky friends. And when I've had a few drinks and happen to talk to them on the phone I have to make a serious effort not to blurt out "I have a blog". In which case I would have to feign not knowing the real blog web address. Awkward and hopefully avoidable even with my big, beer-guzzling mouth.

I am truthful in most of my blogs but I certainly do not include certain details just because I know just about everyone reading this. Although I have had increasingly more hits (it's probably just my mom checking it everyday). So the question then is how much is too much? Not like I'm a closeted crystal meth addict (Agassi) but certain details of my life I share with a select few, if at all. Therefore I do feel restricted. That stuff I mostly share with my journal.

I would love to write a book and am preparing to interview my 92 year old grandmother named Harriett. She is an enigma to me. She was always just my grammy but I know nothing about her life. She can be amazingly honest and open at times and then switch to meek and tight lipped. So I am wondering how much she will be willing to share with me knowing that I will be on Oprah one day telling the nation about the life of Harriett (putting The Secret to work here people). Will she get "nervous in the service", as she loves to say, or will she freely share intimate details of her life. What would I do? Will I die and burn all my journals with me or will I choose to share them? How much sharing is too much?

Ain't to Proud to Scoot

People walk a lot in New York. That is not a secret. Some people do not have the capability or the time to walk far distances. That is not a secret either and actually the reason why public transportation exists. So why, oh why are people over the age of 14 scooting all over the place? The typical demographic of the scooter falls into 2 categories. The first being the most obvious...the child. A child, any child, absolutely has the right to scoot. Scoot in circles. Scoot on the sidewalks. Scoot while being yelled at by their nanny. Scoot kids for it is the only time in your life it is acceptable to do so.

It is the second group of people that disturbs me. Men and women over the age of 45. The man in the above picture is actually smoking a cig, as you can see has white hair, and is scooting through the park. At least twice a day I see people just like him scooting all over the Upper East Side. A bike? Acceptable. Roller blades? Nerdy but acceptable. A razor scooter? Total Geekdom.

Maybe I have too many guidelines to living and I am truly missing out on an amazing form of transportation. However the razor scooter is super geeky, looks amazingly unsafe, and, AND they are made for kids not geeky white haired smokers. Just sayin'.

Someone Please Tell Marie...

Someone Please Tell Marie that her hair is ri-goddamn-diculous. I'm so psyched for her weight loss and her new confidence. But that hair has GOT TO GO. She just looks straight up crazy. And like she's trying too hard. A simple, straight, age appropriate hair-do will do indeed. Oh and Marie will you also tell Kate Gosselin she needs to stop with the poor low/highlights, excessive sweep and 1990 spikes? Thanks. You chicks have money. Put it to good use.

Cougar B.S.

Okay I get it. For some, calling people cougars is still as fun as growing a mustache is for a young guy or referring to people's haircuts as mullets (now one of the most over abused words). But when a 22 year old calls a 30 year old a cougar that's just straight up incorrect. According to cougardate.com (who may have created the term) cougars are women in their forties who smoke, drink and go to clubs to pick up young men in their twenties. Cougars are usually divorced, sometimes with cubs, and financially independent.

Now that definition is all fine and well. But when they create a t.v. show around a dufus named Jules (played by Courtney Cox) who has the body and mind of a 20 year old it makes me really upset. Why? Precisely for those reasons. She's 40. She's in such amazing shape that me at age 19 would be jealous, she has a successful business, a nice son and she acts like she's new to Earth. She does stupid things like smash cinnamon buns with the bottom of a frying pan and then eats them refusing to let others see her eat this unnecessarily smashed treat. What?! She is obsessed with being BFFs with the divorced hot a$$hole neighbor named Grayson (name vomit). She is dating a 20 something and either he or she is constantly bringing up something regarding her age. Oh and the first episode she brought this guy home, proceeded to start to give him a b.j. poolside and in walks her teenage son. Gross. Really? It's prime time telly people. How about they get caught making out on the couch. Oh did I mention she's got no class?

I mean her character is self loathing, socially inept, and pretty pathetic. It seems to be this is the general character portrayal for single women in their 40's and I think it's played-out. Just like The New Adventures of Old Christine. The show is quite a bit better, I love Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and she is a hell of a lot funnier, but Christine is still pretty pathetic. Because I'm irritated I cannot think of another show that has a 40 year old single woman living a fun life sans the juvenile factor of a drunk 17 year old at a party.

Maybe because I am getting older it is a more sensitive issue for me but there have got to be people watching this show thinking the same thing. It's always good when a show makes you feel better about yourself but this pathetic, "old", single chick schtick ain't for me.

An Apple A Day...

My job is odd at best. I walk into a doctor's office, tell them I sell a "probiotic", and ask to see the physician. Normally the initial conversation goes like this:

Me: "Hi! My name is Yaya and I work for a company called XYZ".
Receptionist: "Umm. Hi."
"What are your policies on seeing Representatives?"
"What do you sell?"
"A probiotic."
"A what?"
"A probiotic. Healthy bacteria for your intestines."
"Oh. Hold on a sec. Maria! There's a Rep here."
Maria: "Hi."
Me: "Hi! My name is Yaya and I work for a company called XYZ".
"Oh hi."
"I was wondering what your policies are on seeing Reps."
"What do you have?"
"A Probiotic."
"Oh like yogurt?"
"Well a yogurt is bovine bacteria and this product is human." (Why I go into this at this point I have no idea)
"Oh. You need to schedule a lunch."
"Ok when is a good time?"
"How about November 2nd, 2010?"
"Ummm...(looking at phone schedule that took me 30 minutes to scroll to) oh ok I'm free."

It is the most bizarre job and I don't think many people would want to do it. You have to walk into a cranky office and try to get the Receptionists to like you, to want you to come to lunch. And when you finally do have lunch it is expensive and in some of the creepiest locations.

Yesterday I had lunch at a really nice OB/GYN office. When I reached the lunch room I realized that my eating area was 1 foot away from the autoclave (where they sterilize OB/GYN tools). And not only where the tools are sterilized but where they are dropped off...after each exam.

So there I am pounding lo mien, beef and broccoli, and cashew chicken when in walks Lee with some recently used who-ha exam tools. Delicious! To top it of the physician told me 4-5 times that she really wanted to talk to me and to "pleeease wait I'm so sorry I'm just really busy" (I know I saw all the exam tools). Two hours later I'm wondering if the whole office thinks I'm a total chump for keeping the autoclave company. What did I do for two hours? Smile at the Medical Assistants bringing in the tools, read my fave blog 'selfabsorbed.me', and ate my face off.

When I finally got summonsed into the doctor's office she said I'm really sorry, thank you for waiting, I'm swamped, you'll have to talk while I multitask. OooooK. So I did. She listened and I left after 45 seconds.

And do I meet hot doctors? No, they don't seem to exist.

Curtsy. That is my freaking job.

What The Hell Happened Here?

Time for another round of What The Hell Happened Here:



Yes those are cheese singles at the bottom of the pic.

Lost in The Amazon

I fell in love with a hardcover book in Barnes and Nobles. The artwork, the title, the subject. But it cost more than I wanted to spend. So I went on Amazon.com and ordered one for half the price. I was so proud of my impulsive buyer restraint. Then I got the book in the mail. Not only was it not the hardcover but the flimsy one-layer of brown paper packaging had ripped and the pages were bent. My heart instantly sunk. My mother, brother, and I love new books especially hardcovers. My brother and I stopped lending books out to people other than each other because we want them all to ourselves. The stacks on the shelf are a visual testament to our love of reading. We like the way they still look new after reading them. Therefore receiving this crap version of 'Johannes Cabal the Necromancer' made me want to openly sob in the US Post Office. I felt duped.

I decided to contact the seller and make it clear there was a misunderstanding. He wrote back stating it was my fault, that I didn't read the "description of the book". Funny because following the title was "[Hardcover]". That was when I decided to give him terrible feedback. He then proceeded to send me the following 3 emails on my personal email account (copied and pasted):

1) The item description clearly stated that it was the ADVANCE READING COPY. This is why it was brought to you at such a low price. Also, most books are not shipped in a box. If you want to make something "right," I urge you to first read the packaging slip. Thanks for your time.

2) Did you have a bad weekend or something?

3) You are probably going to win this one, but please read the item descriptions before you just click buy. Unless you did this on purpose. In which case good work.

I don't know about you but I would constitute this as harassment. I never wrote back to the guy and he continued to write me? Last night I hop on the Face Book to find a friend request. I always love the friend requests because you never know who it could be. An old friend, an ex, nope it was the book seller. Yup. The 24 year old and his wife asking me to be their friend on Face Book. Instantly a rush of fear flooded through me. This guy knows my address, email and has found me on Face Book. Does this '06 Ohio State graduate have nothing better to do in Mansfield, Ohio? Should I be expecting a Kaczynski birthday gift in the mail next? Is it a coincidence that the protagonist in the book sold his soul to the devil? Could my desire to get half off a book be considered damnable? Should I have truly thought about the subject matter and who I was buying from? Is the seller Johannes in the flesh?

My guess is he is just an arrogant, testosterone filled, married (thanks Face Book), 24 year old who thinks it's funny to harass someone who didn't get what they wanted via Amazon.

I contacted Amazon last night and had the worst customer service ever. I spent 2 hours trying to file a report. Two hours on and off the phone just trying to state that one of their sellers is a nutcase. To top it off I am awaiting the arrival of another book that I ordered 3 weeks ago. I will never ever use Amazon again. Or eBay. I don't care if this is a rare occurrence I will NEVER go through this again.

Barnes and Nobles I will pay you full price any time and I am sorry that I strayed. I learned my lesson.

P.S. Face Book is beginning to scare me

Just Say No to Facial Hair

Why? Why do guys grow beards? Are they hiding from the world like chicks who cannot bring themselves to ever cut their hair? You know the women who are grey and have hair down to their hamstrings? Just cut it. It is not going to bleed if you do. It is not an appendage. Ok back to beards.

Another guy I work with asked me how I liked his mustache/beard combo a day earlier. My response "sure, but chicks hate having their faces beat up by facial hair". I remember making out with a guy one time with some stubble. I said good night after a long make out session and looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It looked like I had been making out with a cheese grater. It felt that way too.

Please enlighten me why they feel the need to grow facial hair. Do they think it's masculine, sexy, tough? Ok it is buuuuut, it's mean and it will mangle. Next time I meet a guy with facial hair and he wants to make-out I am going to put my hand on his face and shove it away. "You will not over-exfoliate my face thank you! Goodnight!"

What the Hell is Going on Here?

This is a new game called 'What the Hell is Going on Here?' It is up to you to come up with a scenario for the picture. I will describe what is going on here since it is hard to see. To the far left of the picture you see a guy who is only wearing a Speedo. There was a group of six of these Speedo wearers running around Central Park singing to people.

So what the hell do you think was going on here?

No sight in NYC

I'm walking home the other night and the picture you see above is exactly what I saw. It is a blind man walking in NYC. Now my first thought was probably your first thought: How the hell does he get around in New York City? I can see perfectly and I still have a hard time trying to keep myself from splattering all over a taxi cab windshield. Since I drank four beers right before this encounter I thought "I could ask him how he does this" but I just walked by him. And just as I was questioning how he was going to cross the street he says "sir could you help me across the street?". I turned around to see I was the only one around him. I said "sure" and he emphatically apologized for calling me sir.

I had to link my arm around his to help him cross. As we did he says "you know I may never need someone to do this again". "Oh really?" I reply. "Yes because I am getting stem cells from John Hopkins in three months." He has been visually impaired since 2 months old. He can distinguish light and dark and vaguely make out shapes. That is why he thought I was a guy. He could tell I had a baseball cap on but that's it (oh and I probably reeked of beer). And now he has the chance to see for the first time at the age of 62. So we talked some more about what that means to him and how he would gladly risk his life for the chance at gaining his sight. Wanna cry? Yeah I did too.

He lives a couple of doors down from me and I am truly excited for him. Where are the stem cells coming from? According to him, from is own body. Thank goodness for science!

One of my favorite parts of the conversation is a story that his friend sent him an email and the computer read it to him. He made his friend throw in some swear words just to hear the computer lady swear. And he called emails "computer letters".

I will keep you updated on any developments.

I Wish I Was a Little Bit Taller, I Wish I Was a Baller...

I wish I could fix my goddamn toilet. Why can't we be born programmed to fix everything?! Running/non-flushing toilets, cars, electrical...stuff. All stuff that always needs fixing. You know what I mean. I have a road bicycle and I have no idea how to take care of it. When something breaks I have to bring it to a bike shop where they act like I'm an ass because I can't change a flat. Fuck-off douche-riders. I'm paying you, so you should be kissing my ass. Now my mom and dad taught me how to do a lot of stuff but I've realized the only repairs I'm good at are Jerry-Rig-ing shit like MacGyver. Duct tape helllooo. But when my stupid ass toilet gets fixed by my Super then two days later screws up again I wanna rip my freaking hair out and stomp around my apartment slamming my one (bathroom) door. So now I have to call him into my tiny personal space AGAIN to show me how to fix the stupid thing this time because obviously my Super is a Jerry Rigger too.

Sunshine, rainbows, unicorns...

The Rachel Zoerexia Project

I love The Rachel Zoe Project sans the wildfire of "I-Die"s. I love fashion and "I-Die", for the most part, to have Rachel Zoe's job. I would love to dive into an in-ground pool full of accessories and shoes. To be able to vintage shop blowing $5,000-$20,000 per trip. But why is she complaining that the tabloids are calling her pin thin? I mean she obviously works very hard at starving herself so why not own it like Gwen Stefani does (she has been dieting since the 6th grade). Just looking at her on t.v. (which adds how many pounds?!) I cannot imagine what she looks like in person. So for all the kids in America who want to look like her (who? I dunno but I'm sure there are plenty) why doesn't she own up to the fact that a) she doesn't eat b) what she does, comes out shortly after and c) her spazziness/anxiety/twitchiness is due to all the diet pills she's on. I mean her clavicles could poke some one's eye out... but then of course they would break due to osteoporosis.

Oh Zoe Zoe Zoe...of course you and Ricci are BFFs. Who else would you have to compete with in the ultra, super, major, anorexic, feather-weight class besides 8 year olds? Oh I'm sorry. I'll throw in Mary-Kate Olson for the trifecta.

Off to stuff my face with an enormous sandwich and watch her via DVR...

Jogging 101

There should be a class taught in NYC to people who decide they are going to start jogging in public. RULE 1: BUY APPROPRIATE CLOTHING. Since moving here I have seen women jogging in jeans, unfit men jogging in bare-all spandex onesies, shirts off (on people i don't want to look at even with shirts on), high black socks, and hosiery. You read that right, hosiery. His name is "Elegant" Elliot Offen, a Howard Stern "Whack Pack-er". Now had someone warned me of this regular sighting in my neighborhood I would have been prepared. But I was not. I saw someone run past me in a white t-shirt and what I thought were very short shorts. Nope, not shorts, but nude control top pantyhose sans shorts. His chin length hair was streaked in blue and red and pulled into a Bam-Bam style pony on top of his head. And the best part was the old school Walkman tape player. I managed to suppress my vomit long enough to actually look at his face. He had the most scowly (no other way to describe) face I'd ever seen and seemed to be running away from the source creating the scowl. What was the source? My guess would be life. The next time I saw him he was wearing a woman's black leotard thong and black opaque stockings. Lord have mercy is right. I can't believe my eyes didn't melt on the spot.

So the moral of this blog is not to encourage putting on make-up or expensive running clothes but just wear clothes. No one wants to see your bits or scowls. Riiiight. And yes that is him below. You're welcome.

She Works Hard For The Money

So you can apparently make money on blogs. I made 41 cents in two weeks but most of the revenue came after the Nerd Alert blog. Why you ask? I don't know but I think it has to do with the fact I mentioned Crocs. so I wonder if I can mention major labels if I will get enough views to bring in some bank. Do I really think I can succeed? No. But I will do a lot of things for a dollar, dollar bill y'all.

What brands would you mention? I'm gonna throw out a few...Crocs, Chanel (they clearly go hand-in-hand), Burberry, Dior (go big or go to TJ Maxx), Campbell's Soup (why not?), Snuggie (gotta reprezent the infomercials), SHAMWOW (that clearly deserved caps), Ore-Ida Fries (...are delicious), Papa Gino's (...is amazing), Jiffy Lube (...is an amazing name), Apple, iPod, Mister Smoothie (kicks all other soft-serves' asses), BMW (not sure why that came up), Frye (because I am obsessed with my new shoes), ZAPPOS (heart them), eBay (not in love with them right now), Jesus (the biggest brand I know), Fleet Foxes (just because I love their music), Brooklyn Vegan (love listening on SIRIUS), Bryant Park Project (looove them but way too early in the AM on NPR), Spaghetti-O's (no explanation needed).

I think that's all I have in me tonight...we'll see if this brings in the money train. Probably not but I ain't too proud to beg.

UPDATE 9/6/09: This did not work. I'm still at 41 cents.

Where Have All The House Parties Gone?

I was driving down the street today in Massachusetts when I saw a gathering of people in their late teens, early 20's. I felt a wave of nostalgia thinking about all the house parties I've been to. Walking into a house full of people you didn't know and the potential for meeting some hot guy to make-out with. What the hell ever happened to the house party? And I don't mean the "hey I'm having a dinner party and you'll know everyone there". No I mean a straight-up singles mostly, not decorated, initially awkward (until you're 5 beers in), flip cup playin', thrilling house party.

For me it has slowly been replaced by dinner parties or bars. Dinner parties are the sophisticated version of the house party. But I rarely am introduced to other single straight men. Bars are now the closest thing to a house party. But it is a lot more expensive and you don't have any connection to anyone there. So meaning if I meet a guy at a bar, none of my friends, or friends-of-friends can give me any background info on him.

It kind of makes me sad. Is it possible to bring the house party back? I've had BBQs at my parents' house with minimal turn-out. Why? Most of my friends are in relationships or married and who cares about a house party when you're in a relationship? It's like who cares about bars when you're in a relationship. They are both means to catch up with friends only. Not to meet your potential mate because you already have one. I went to a house party on St. Patty's day this year and it was really fun but it still wasn't the same. And I'm not completely sure why.

Today on my 31st birthday I'm longing for the excitement of an approaching house party. Guys just waiting for the chicks to arrive. That actually sounds like a strip club or a cat house. I mean a house full of people you know, and don't know, just looking to socialize and potentially have a make-out session in the backyard. If I could pull one together now I would, but I guess I have to accept that the house party for me is pretty dead. It's not as free and fun as it used to be and I don't own a house anyway. Having a house party at my parents' at my age isn't cool anymore, it's sad. So if anyone wants to have a house party, invite friends and friends-of-friends, know that I am in. Long live the House Party.

Debbie Downer

Lately I've been feeling down and out. I've blamed it on the terrible company I work for, the hangovers, the terrible company I work for...Anyway I went to my physician for my yearly physical and she ran a gamut of blood work on me. Come to find out I have really low levels of vitamins B12 and D. Now D insufficiency is common so I was not surprised, but B12?!

Fast forward to last night where I was reading one of Dr. Oz's books You Being Beautiful (yes I am obsessed with him). In the book it discusses depression, anxiety, etc. Anyway as I'm reading through it states that low levels of B12 in the body can cause depression. Fo' Real Dr. Oz?! Well no shit I feel a little down and out. B12! After that I took a double B Complex dose. But since it is water soluble he suggests taking one twice a day because you basically pee it out. And I do feel better today. Better capable of coping with hating my job and moving forward.

I know this is not a hilarious or self-deprecating blog but I couldn't help but want to share the news. If you feel like Debbie Downer try out a B complex.

Oscar Cuts Loose, Footloose

After my last post I figured I would let you in on my dog crazy side. There always seems to be broken bottles and glass in my neighborhood. I got sick of worrying about Oscar slicing open a paw knowing what that emergency bill looks like (I had a $1400 one when he was 8 months old).

Shoes were on, Oscar was miserable, we all laughed at his expense, and I decided to film him. Oscar's discomfort and humiliation is obvious and I decided not to get the shoes for him. At the tail-end of this charade a short-shorted, Frenchman walks in. He begins to lecture me on how unnatural the shoes are for dogs, how my dog won't eat if I buy them, and basically called me a stupid American. "I don't understand you Americans!" It was all I could do to not say "mind ya damn bizniss frogger". But I shot him my look of death and walked out. I showed him.

Can't Bring a Dog to Water...

NYC has a bad rep. The man yelling "fungule" at an innocent tourist is normally the picture that is conjured up. But most New Yorkers I have encountered are very friendly. I have met a number of people just walking my Chihuahua Oscar. This one day in particular I was walking Oscar and bumped into a couple walking an adorable Chihuahua even smaller than my 6 pound lil guy. We walked and talked, discovered they were from Boston, we happen to share a mutual friend, and we could potentially take care of each others' pups while traveling. That was until I walked with the woman and dog a few days later.

Pipa's female owner asks if me and Oscar want to join them for a walk. Actually I got a text from "Pipa" asking if Oscar can come out and play. I respond as me, and she responds again as Pipa. Shoulda known right there that somethin' wasn't right. We met at the dog park designed for small breeds. She claimed that her lil pup, Pipa, did not want to go in the dog park. I thought it was odd she wouldn't give the dog a chance, but assuming she was afraid to bring her dog in, I complied and left the dog park. As we walked along the river, her lil Pipa was walking in front just sniffing around like a normal doggie. Then the owner says "Pipa wants to walk this way, do you mind?". I looked down to see Pipa sniffing near another path but was not acting odd, or pulling on the leash, or even making a sound. Now in my head I'm thinking lady, do you have some kind of cosmic connection with your dog? But having just met this chick, and her path paving dog, I just followed her lead. We continued on this path for a few minutes when Pipa apparently wanted to change directions again (according to her owner). Now keep in mind it was a hot day and I wanted to continue walking along the beautiful river, not head into town. I really didn't give a shit what Pipa "wanted" to do. And the fact that Pipa weighs 4 pounds, was not in distress, and this lady's nutso factor was becoming more evident I was now becoming agitated. So my reply changed from an initial shrugged "sure" to a "oh, ummm, yeah I guess". Shortly after this I "needed to head home".

The next time I meet up with her it begins to rain. She puts Pipa in a handbag. "Pipa just hates the rain." Wow should've seen this one coming.

A few days later I get a text from Pipa asking if Oscar wants to hang out again because her mom and dad are walking her. Lord have mercy. Dog texting again? I head out of my apartment and they say they are at 82 & York. Since we have always met at the dog park I tell her I am at the dog park. It is a beautiful sunny day and the Carl Shultz park has gardens and activity and is a block away from where they are. Wait for it... They respond that "Pipa does not seem to want to walk to the water you want to walk this way?". Whatchu talkin' bout Willis? Your dog knows where the river is and doesn't want to walk that way? You mean you can't gently tug on your 4 pound dog's leash and make her walk to the goddamn water? Can you even begin to imagine what Cesar Milan would say to this crazy bitch? I don't care if Oscar is foaming at the mouth and actually says to me in English "listen lady I don't wanna go to the river" I would say "Tough shit you're a dog and I'm a human and you will follow me NOW". And I bet if that dog could talk it would say "mom I wanna live a normal dog's life. I am not a human baby". I had had enough. I responded by saying "my leg hurts and I am going to let Oscar play in the dog park" like a normal canine. Pipa didn't respond.

Just because you can meet people in New York doesn't mean they won't be whack jobs. And lady don't blame your weirdness on your dog. You clearly have many hang-ups and I'm not sure why you would prefer to walk along busy streets than near the park. I'm really impressed that you got your grad degree at Harvard, know Japanese and Chinese, and are very successful. But what the hell is wrong with you? I just got a text asking if we wanted to walk with them today. I wrote back that Oscar doesn't wanna walk he actually wants to go to the pub and have a few pints. No I didn't. But I shoulda.

Nerd Alert

Sweet Jesus. Former Croc wearing nerds across the U.S. are jumping into the fashion disaster of 2009. They are supposed to be as close to running barefoot as possible. Which I do not entirely understand. Running barefoot on concrete hurts. Why would I want to put on these pug-fugley shoes to feel the stomping pain of feet versus concrete?

They also look absolutely ridiculous. There was a guy at the dog park the other day sporting them. You could tell he was really proud of them. He wasn't running and had on regular street wear. He looked like the jackass who wears aqua shoes all summer long in grocery stores, poolside, and to parties. Everywhere except the ocean where they hardly belong. They do not make you look a"outdoorsy". They make you look like you drink Zima through a straw while dancing to Smash Mouth's "All Star".

I'm calling it right now. They should be banned. Someone needs to go into sports stores and slap the people trying them on. They are not cool. You will never get laid wearing these. No one wants to be like you because you are trying to run barefoot and look like an ass wearing them. There I said it. Please do not fall victim to these. Do not add them to your secret collection of aqua shoes and Crocs. Let this nerd trend die a quiet death. And if any of your friends are wearing them punch them in their tiny little balls because they just ain't right.

Lady I Like Your Toes

I know most of you are dying to hear my dating and running around in Manolos stories. But that is not my NYC life. This story is my reality. Yesterday was one of those "Thriller" days. I swear every creep that exists in New York was out and was looking for me.

I got the "hey young lady" from a passing guy with a long blue 'do rag. Right buddy you are clearly my type. The 'do rag gets me every time.

I got the bike-by "hey sweetie" from the Mexican food delivery guy. Dude, you are riding your bike too fast for me even to blow a kiss at you. What did you hope to accomplish?

And lastly I had a guy stop in the middle of the sidewalk and stare. Dodging a puddle I had to walk fairly close to him. As I did he leaned in and yelled in my ear "Lady I like your toes. I LIKE YOUR TOES!". At least that's what I think he said. He was staring at the ground and I originally thought he was really excited about my dog. Nope, my toes. Dude, I haven't had a pedi in months and the polish on there is about 13 layers thick. Never mind that my feet were dirty thanks to the disgusting NYC streets. What is there to like? What did I do about this toe rave? Nothing. I walked away as fast as I could. I heard one last "Your toes" and that was all. I could have yelled back some obscenities but the two creeps before him must have worn down my shouting reflex. I think I was at that point prepared to hear weird shit from random homeless/crazies. I walked from there straight home. And yes, I ran into a few more nuts but at least they didn't yell in my ear they just stared at my boobs.

Not only have I heard that wearing flip-flops in the city can put you at risk for major disease but apparently you can attract crazies that like toes. So my lesson of the day was when 2 or more creeps are paying closer attention to you than normal put on some sneakers and get off the streets as soon as possible.

Blame it on The Booze

I don't know when it started. I think Danielle was the first to point it out. I would ask her a question about a trip or her family and she would squeal "Katie!". I could have sworn she never shared the details. But as time went on, and my friendships grew, I realized details of friends' lives were erased like I was abducted by memory seizing aliens. The worst was when I asked a friend how her cousin was doing in her fight against lymphoma (I may not even have that detail right). Her cousin had already passed away. Yes, that bad. Needless to say I wanted to shrivel up and die. How could I forget a MAJOR detail like this? And I'm not really sure. I talked to my cousin about this and she said that I've been this way for so long that she just repeats the detail without calling me out on it. What? So I've been this way so long that she has grown accustomed to ignoring my handicap. Was it from all the booze I've drunk in my life? Good possibility. I am known as a boozer. Or is my brain just not wired to hold onto certain details? How can I remember the latin names of beach plants from my coastal ecology class I took 9 years ago (beach grass is Ammophila breviligulata) but I cannot remember that a good friend's cousin died? Oh and her sister had a baby in May but on the phone yesterday I was convinced she was still pregnant or that I wasn't told. I am certainly no savant, but I sure can be an idiot.

I'm not sure if I will ever understand why my brain behaves this way. It certainly makes me want to document every detail of my friends' lives so I do not feel like a total ass for the rest of my life. So to all my wonderful friends I am so sorry for all the things I have forgotten in your life. For now, we'll blame it on the booze, not the rain.

Grammatical Errors...

I talked so much in seventh grade English class I missed out on many of the grammatical rules. I was sat next to Nikki who was a huge trouble maker. She taught me how to piss off Miss Peppelian (sp? haha) and I loved it. Rules such as propositional phrases, proper nouns, how to use commas, mixing verb tenses in a sentence, etc. So for those of you reading my blog I will apologize in advance for offending you with my horrendous grammatical errors. Hopefully you can look past it and you are definitely welcome to publicly make fun of me. I will not (comma?) however (comma?) spell definitely (comma?) definately. At least I've got that. Wing bird (an English teacher) get out your red pen.

Dear Mother Nature 6/2009

Dear Mother Nature: I would first like to thank you for the 3 sunny days in the last sixth months. That being said, could you cut the shit with the rain? I do have to walk, EVERYWHERE, and it really kinda sucks wearing my wellies and trench coat everyday. It leaves no room for outfit creativity and that hurts my heart. So lady get your act together and make it sunny PLEASE! Off to buy a sunlamp. Thanks.

First Blog

I decided since I'm so poor that I needed to make some extra cash. Tutor? It's summer. Waitress? I like my weekends free. Clean houses? Not that desperate...yet. So can I make money off blogging? Who knows? I'm gonna give it a whirl. People seem to enjoy my Facebook postings so why not try to make money off a little humor and lots of fun communicating. But I am not naive, mostly. I realize blog earning are minimal, at best. But I love to write and here I am. Wish me luck in blogging and life in general...I need it.