Dr. Hibbert Will See You Now (Or How To Waste $15)

In my time in New York I've accumulated quite a cadre of doctors: internists, specialists, surgeons--you name it, I've seen someone for it. I probably find about 90% of these doctors pretty good at what they do, which is pretty good considering most were picked solely on the basis of their proximity to where I work. But there is one doctor I've never particularly liked, and oddly, he's the one I've had the longest: my general practititioner.

I suppose the reason I never bothered to change was because I never saw him that much. He'd give me my flu shot and I'd see him if I wanted to check my cholesterol or my allergies were bothering me, but over the course of eight years, this has only amounted to a handful of visits.

One time I had an allergic reaction to a medicine I was taking. I was covered in hives; I had a fever; I couldn't even bend my fingers they were so swollen. When I went to see him the first thing he said was "Wow, you might have some mysterious illness." Or hives.

The next time I had an allergic reaction to a different medicine, I went to my dermatologist. Who actually knew what it was.

For about five days I had had a sore throat which progressed into a racuous cough. Normally I won't go to the doctor for a cold unless it's gone on for a week, but I felt oddy pressured by my boss (I had left work early and felt somehow that was contingent upon my seeing the doctor).

As soon as I said "cough" he said "bronchitis." As soon as he said "bronchitis" little bells went off in my head. I mean, I'm no doctor myself, but I'm pretty sure a cough is a sign of many things, including the common cold. As I continued to describe my condition, he continued to repeat bronchitis.

All for this: he's a pill pusher. All he wanted to do was give me a prescription for something. He always has pharma reps in his office. They are always young, pretty girls. He is always super chatty. There must be some sort of reciprocity involved: the more samples he moves, the more pens and magnets he gets.

He shoved an antibiotic sample and prescription in my hand. Asked if I needed any other pills--mood stabilizers, sleeping pills, Viagra, Accutane, prevacid (this guy must give out GREAT Easter baskets).

So many times we don't listen to our guts and it turns out our guts were right. I knew I didn't have bronchitis. I never filled the prescrip and the sample is sitting on my dresser. Two days later, my cold seems to be clearing up nicely.

What I'm really saying is this: get your reqeusts in now, friends. Next time I see Dr. Hibbert, I'll be sure to hit him up for whatever you need.

Fun With Science

This is what happens when you're bored at work. Not just what actually happened on the video, but the making of it as well. Bored, bored, bored.

But really, this ranks as one of my favorite moments at my job. That and winning the Oscar pool last year. That and spending an hour fishing a tiny envelope out from behing a cubicle with a coat hanger. That and watching my boss eat a rice krispies treat and having it fly out of his mouth and fall on the floor. That and...nope, that's it.

To find out how to do it, go here.

PS-This video doesn't seem to work in Mozilla, so use an ie-based browser.

PPS-At home I tried an ie-based browser and it DIDN'T work, but used Mozilla and it DID. So I don't know what to say, except you should see a blue "play" button in the middle of the screen or it won't work properly. Clearly, I have not totally gotten the hang of embedding home video.

You Can Quote Me...

I like quotes. Much like lists, in a world over-saturated with information, quotes seem like a good way to parse things out. One of my favorites is credited to Dame Julian of Norwich, a 14th century mistic: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

I also like to compile quotes from the books I read. I don't necessarily think putting a "favorite quote" at the end of my book reviews in MICHELLEPHANT READS BOOKS necessarily captures all the nuances of what I've read, but I think it gives someone who has not read the book a decent idea as to the general tone.

I think a lot of times people are quoted out of context and I like to give them the benefit of the doubt. And I have thus far not posted anything even remotely political because I find arguing rather boring. But, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with this dude?

I would say the best moment of all was when I caught a 7.5-lb. perch in my lake.--George W. Bush, answering a German newspaper reporter who asked him to name the best moment of his five years as president. (taken from from TIME 5/22/06)

All I have learned about life can be summed up in three words: it goes on.

—Robert Frost

O, Magical Internet, What Else Will I Learn From You?

We've all gotten those emails. Now think for a minute and try to anticipate which type of emails I'm actually talking about. Spam? Chain letters promising $2500 from Mr. Bill Gates himself sent from a lawyer who "knows" what she's talking about? Jokes with rudimentary animation, usually involving a middle-aged fat man dropping his pants? No. No. No.

I'm actually talking about those personal quizzes that get passed around like mono on prom night. I like the quizzes. I try not to forward them too much, because I consider email a legitimate form of communication and not a means by which to make my friends dread hearing from me. But I like them nonetheless. Why? Because I like to believe it matters to someone other than myself and the CEO of General Mills what I had for breakfast this morning (yogurt burst Cheerios, FYI). Because like this very blog, I want proof of my existence. Not just for others to have proof I existed, but proof for myself. Maybe in a few days I won't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, but if I look at that old email, I'll remember those Cheerios and picture myself sitting on the couch in my strawberry patch-patterned PJs, watching NY1 (hi, Pat!), trying to figure out how to get out of going to work. Good times.

I got an unusual quiz the other day. It was one where instead of filling out information about yourself, you fill out information about the person who sent it to you. I can't believe I've never seen this before, because I feel like if there is a forward out there, it will inevitably make it into my inbox. This quiz wasn't all that interesting. They didn't ask very probing questions and the questions they did ask like "What was the first thing I said to you?" just don't apply when you've known someone for ten years and can't even remember the last thing they said to you.

There are two things I found out from this quiz. One is that if I were on a deserted island with anyone who knows me I am expected to either craft the hell out of it with rubber stamps and diecuts or else bring the Cheetos.

The other thing involves this question: Are you rebel or do you follow the rules? Most of my friends said I followed the rules, but my cousin said I absolutely did NOT follow the rules. So who's right?

I guess it depends what the rules are.

I follow the rules:

• I don't litter.


• Or smoke.


• Or drink much.


• Or do any kind of drugs.


• I don't speed when I drive.


• I actually use the library and return my books on time. If I don't, I pay the ten cent fine.


• I floss.


• I don't like to sleep on my left side because I hear it's bad for your heart.


• I don't use my teeth to open bottles.


• I recycle.

I don't follow the rules:

• I don't believe in God (I'd like to, but I'm honest enough with myself to admit I'm highly suspicious).


• I have more stuffed animals now than when I was twelve. I talk to them. They talk back.


• I think voting for the president is more important than voting for the next American Idol.


• I eat potato chips for dinner.


• I shower as little as possible and wash my hair even less.


• I don't care if my boyfriend goes to strip clubs, looks at porn, or reads Playboy (not that he does any of those things)


• I play with my food.


• I go to fancy restaurants, take off my shoes, and tuck my feet under my butt.


• I want to name my first born Tristmegistus. Or Newly.

I think in the end it's relative. Literally. My family—sure they have their psychotic moments, but for the most part, they're pretty normal. So to them, I appear odd. Whereas most of my friends are of the free-thinking, creative variety and to them, I appear un-odd.

I suppose, really, it's nice to be both. Isn't that right, Pippo?

Why, yass, that is certainly correct.

The Secret Behind Olive Garden's Meat Lasagna

ORPHAN: Hi.

OLIVE GARDEN HOST: Oh. Yes?

O: Do you have a family for me?

OGH: Excuse me?

O: A family. I need a family.

OGH: I don't know what you're talking about. Look, we don't serve homeless people here.

O: But your ad says "When you're here, you're family." I need a family.

OGH: It's just an ad. It doesn't mean anything.

O: What happened to truth in advertising?

OGH: Look, you need to leave or I'm going to call the police.

O: Try it. I've got Angelina Jolie on speed dial. Now either you get me a family or I will unleash a PR campaign against this company, from which you will not recover. Imagine this splashed across the pages of People: "Angelina Jolie boycotts Olive Garden for unfair advertising and discrimination against the parentless."

OGH: Just a minute. [speaks into headset] Is Todd Sweeney around? Okay, thanks. [to the orpan] Someone will be with you shortly, if you'd like to take a seat.

O: That's what I thought.

[After a few moments, a man in a suit comes into the lobby.]

Todd Sweeney: Hello, Orphan. I'm the manager of this establishment. You would be so kind as to come with me?

O: Am I getting a family?

TS: You certainly are. We stand behind our campaign 100%. We promised that when you came here you'd be family, and family you are.

O: Finally! A chance to be loved!

[Sweeney leads Orphan to the back kitchen, chatting amiably the whole time about all the wonderful things the Orphan will be able to do with his new family like go to Disney, play catch, and have birthday parties. Orphan tears up a little.]

TS: They're just around this corner. And they're so excited to meet you!

[Orphan turns the corner, where an ax-wielding sous chef quickly chops off his head.]

TS: Grind him up.


Olive Garden: When You're Here, You're Family. Unless You're An Orphan. Then You're Lasagna.

The Day the Music Died.

When we're not spending all our free time writing in our blogs, reading other people's blogs, posting comments on blogs, posting comments to comments on blogs, looking at site traffic for our blogs, well, that's when we do worthwhile things like cure cancer, come up with alternative fuel sources, and make really delicious meals for the homeless.

Syke!

We talk about our blogs on gmail chat. This is a recent conversation I had with my lovely friend at Vinyl Edition when the blogger site was down (edited for clarity (his parts, not mine)):

Vinyl Edition:
a - why is my blog dead?
b - why does it feel like my child has died?
c - when will this be fixed?
d - can't they post some "Blog Down" page instead of showing a half-naked HTML-exposed version?
e - hu
f - i mean hi

Michellephant: I can't get to mine either. And I know how cranky mine gets when it doesn't get the attention it wants.

VE: Right? I got to yours via my dad's cpu but I can't get to it through mine.

M: Blogger gets wonky all the time.

VE: Speaking of which let's talk about how much I love Nutter Butter.

M: It's almost not worth it to be free.

VE: You nailed it. They taste like peanuts and they're shaped like peanuts. God, I love them.

M: You know it took a long time for me to like them. Once I had a filling at the dentist and I was shot up on novocaine...

VE: Well - they say it takes a long time to like anything worth liking.

M: ...I was hungry so I ate Nutter Butters but my tongue wasn't working so I chewed the shit out of it.

VE: ha ha ha

M: I'm over it now.

VE: So good. What, oh, what will be in your top 10? My favs have all made appearances
(i think).

M: As soon as blogger starts working again I'm ready to finish it up.

VE: DAMN BLOGGER. I'm taking my business elsewhere. When I got to yours, it was undressed.

M: Yeah! Somewhere where i have to PAY. Wait, no i'm not.

VE: Only half the list came up, and there was HTML code everywhere. I felt like I was seeing you naked.

M: What a trampy blog!

VE: I clicked "close," thinking - no, no, I shouldn't be seeing this.

M: You are a decent man.

VE: Thank you. I mean I looked for a LITTLE while but then closed it.

M: Well you are a MAN, decent or not. To be expected. Is this what it's like to have a Tamagochi?

VE: I think maybe so. You panic. You go - hey! You don't know what to do like a helpless parents. This is what it's like to have a child with cancer.

M: Yes, exactly like that. If I ever have a kid with cancer, I'll say to it, "You know, this reminds me of when I had a blog..."

[deleted talk about emoticons, Gilmore Girls, Lost, cyrogenically frozen heads, and anorexic fairies]

VE: I just thought of a quick rant. You know what?

M: What?

VE: No - blogger ISN'T free. Sure, it doesn't cost us money for the "privilage" of being able to write and self-publish and be creative and get attention, BUT that shit takes time. There are millions of blogs, tons of them get HUGE traffic, Ad Sense monitors Google's overall traffic, therefore, what we have is essentially a socialist system where only the top dog gets his day. It's communism and capitalism combined and while the workers control the means of production only those at the top get paid. Done.

M: Oh of course...it's free monetarily, but costs a lot in mental energy. The top dog thing...that's the world.

VE: So I've heard. I know. I'm half-kidding. I smile as I type.

M: I'm thinking about staging a revolution.

[deleted talk about a friend we'd rather not let get out...we say good-bye]

[six minutes later]

VE: The doctors just called. Our babies are alive.

M: I know! I'm on it.

VE: Wooo hooo!!! Why the relief? Why the JOY?!

[more deleted talk about our nameless friend and how VE wants to kill said person and drink his/her blood]

VE: I think blogger died again. Nevermind. Sigh.



Jesus wept.

The end.

My Most Fabulous Day II

For those of you who don't remember, let me refresh: this year, I am keeping track of my "fabulous days" as put forth by some unknown women's magazine for my astrological sign. The first day was February 20th and I rated it on the "low end of fabulous." The next day was May 7th. Here's the recap.

• It was Sunday, so I had to tutor the eight-year olds. It was one of the better days (they were mostly well-behaved and the class went by quickly), but nobody likes working on Sunday. not fabulous


• I had a sinus headache when I got home, so I took some Benadryl, which I feel is somewhat equivalent to taking a roofie. I didn't go to sleep, but I was extremely groggy and unaware. very not fabulous


• After tutoring, I had planned on going to the park for a jog, but instead took a nap. Bad, because I didn't run, but I can't ever complain about napping. fine


• I ate an entire bag of Poppycock for dinner. fine


• I watched two of my favorite shows, Gilmore Girls and Scrubs. GG has been wildly hit or miss this season, but Scrubs continues to delight. very fine


• I played Yahoo games when I couldn't fall asleep, and one of the women in the room was a teacher who kept spelling "bleeding ulcer" as "bleading ulser." I hope to God my children never have that woman as their teacher. fine


• Since Snowman was asleep and I wanted to read, I propped a flashlight on my shoulder. It made me think of camping or staying up past my bedtime when I was kid. very fine

Overall, this day gets an "okay" rating from me, which makes the score 1-1.

Next fabulous day: June 7th.

Junk (Food) In My Trunk #26-1

The end of the road...

25. Nabisco Wheat Thins. Hands down, my favorite cracker. I heart salt.

24. Nabisco Teddy Grahams (Chocolately Chip). The smooth-skinned offspring of a mixed marriage.

23. Snackwells Devil's Food Cookies. I like the chewy texture and how the coating crackles when you bite into it.

22. Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream (Phish Food). I love the little chocolate fish!

21. Planters Salted Cashews. The perfect combination of salty and sweet.

20. Pringles (Sour Cream and Onion). I lick off the sour cream powder and then eat the chip.

19. Combos (Pepperoni Pizza Cracker). I break them open and eat the cheese first. (Seriously, is what is wrong with me?)

18. Pepperidge Farm Flavor-Blasted Cheddar Goldfish. This powdery version is far superior to the plain ones.

17. Snickers Ice Cream Bars. One of my favorite deli treats and much tastier than real Snickers. How come the caramel doesn't freeze? It's a mystery of science...

16. Ben & Jerry's Frozen Yogurt (Half-Baked). I'm really into chewy...this ice cream has a great blend of brownies and cookie dough.

15. Hostess Fruit Pies (Cherry). This reminds me of road trips and 7-11s. Memories, misty colored memories...

14. Ruffles (Cheddar and Sour Cream). I really like orange food. Take that, Billy Bob Thornton!

13. Doritos (Nacho Cheese). The best thing to happen to a tortilla chip.

12. Munchos. Like Pringles, but greasier, crunchier, yummier.

11. Terra Red Bliss Roasted Garlic & Parmesan Potato Chips. These make your breath stink like you licked a skunk's ass, but they are so damned good.

10. Lays Potato Chips (Sour Cream and Onion). The best of the sour cream and onion family.

9. Lays Potato Chips (Cheddar and Sour Cream). Fake cheese strikes again!

8. Little Debbies Zebra Cakes. I love these because my mom would never buy them when we were kids. I peel off the outer layer, lick out all the cream, then throw the cakes away.

7. Little Debbies Strawberry Shortcake Rolls. Whenever Sea Thing was in a bad mood when we lived together, I'd bring some of these home to take the edge off.

6. Girl Scout Cookies Samoas/Caramel Delites. Chewy, coconutty, caramely tastiness.

5. Doritos (Cool Ranch). When I was in high school, my lunches consisted soley of a big Hawaiian fruit punch and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

4. Planters Cheez Balls. I stick my tongue right into the blue tin and let the cheez balls adhere like velcro.

3. Fritos (Chili Cheese). A little spicy, a little cheesy, a little corn chippy.

2. Lays Classic Potato Chips. These are just simple, salty, crunchy and perfect. You cannot pass a giant bowl of these chips at a party and not stick your hand in.

1. Funyuns. These kind of tear up the roof of my mouth, but it's so worth it. I've been known to shake the crumbs out of the bag directly into my mouth.

Junk (Food) In My Trunk #50-26

And so it goes...

50. Stacy's Pita Chips (Parmesan, Garlic and Herb). No need for dip!

49. Nabisco Better Cheddar Crackers. I like food that rhymes.

48. Keebler Animals Iced Cookies. Love these cinnamon-ey iced treats. I like to name them all, tell them they've been veeerrrry bad, then bite their heads off.

47. Miss Vickies Chips (Jalapeno). Dear God, I love jalapeno.

46. Little Debbie Fudge Brownies. In no way resemble the brownies you make at home, but there is something addictive about them anyway.

45. Murray Chocolate Chip Cookies. I used to put these on each finger and wave them around like jewels.

44. Nabisco Nutter Butters. Not only do they taste like peanuts, but they look like them too!

43. Cheez-Its Twisterz (Cheddar and More Cheddar). I also like to pull these apart. Basically, if I CAN play with my food, I WILL.

42. Nabisco Oreos. Classic cookie perfection.

41. Entenmann's Rich Frosted Donuts. If you refrigerate them, the bottom gets wonderfully crunchy.

40. Moon Pies (Chocolate). A great gas station/roadside treat.

39. Corn Nuts (BBQ). Corn gone bad.

38. Jello-O Chocolate Vanilla Swirl Fat Free Pudding. I could go for something Jell-O.

37. Utz Onion and Garlic Potato Chips. In my mind, these are so much better than salt & vinegar.

36. Cheez-Its (White Cheddar). Mmm...powdery cheese residue on fingers...

35. Royal Dansk Butter Cookies. Nothing says Middle America like a blue tin of Danish cookies.

34. Moon Pies (Banana). Yeah for banana treats! I like to pull the cookies off and eat the marshmallow center separately.

33. Hostess Sno Balls. I can't get over how soft these are. I want to make a Sno Ball pillow.

32. Little Debbie Nutty Bars. Shocker...I like to pull the wafers apart before I eat them.

31. Haagen Dazs Ice Cream (Dulce de Leche). Caramel and vanilla? So freaking delicious.

30. Bonne Maman Raspberry Tartlets. Chewy, flaky, fruity, refined.

29. Nabisco Chips Ahoy! I have always favored Chips Ahoy! over Oreos.

28. Pepperidge Farm Dark Chocolate Chunk Nantucket Cookies. I love these crunchy cookies.

27. Pepperidge Farm Chessman Cookies. The only time I like playing chess.

26. Planters Dry Roasted Peanuts. I like to suck on them to get all the salt out. Is that weird?

Junk (Food) In My Trunk #75-51

The list continues...

75. Skinny Cow Fat Free Fudge Bars. Chocolate goodness.

74. Nabisco Fig Newtons. Not a cookie. Fruit and cake.

73. Pepperidge Farm Pirouette Cookies. Man, these are good with a steaming cup of cocoa.

72. Keebler E.L. Fudge Sandwich Cookies. I like to set these up like dominoes, then knock them all over.

71. Fritos (Original). Someone once said Fritos smelled like dogs. I like food that smells like dogs.

70. Ritz Crackers. I have to leave the box in the kitchen or I will eat them all at once.

69. Bahlsen HIT Cookies. I used to think these were Asian when I was a kid. But they're not.

68. Munchies (Classic). Sun Chips, Cheetos, Doritos...if only they'd get rid of the pesky pretzels.

67. Ritz Bitz Cheese Cracker Sandwiches. Fake cheese makes another appearance. I think I actually like it more than real cheese.

66. Handi-Snacks Breadsticks 'n Cheez. Another fake cheese entry...am I being predictable?

65. Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls. I like to unroll these, lick out all the cream, then eat the cake.

64. Pepperidge Farm Raspberry Chantilly Cookies. I love the powdered sugar that gets all over my lips.

63. Skinny Cow Ice Cream Sandwiches (Coffee). Big ice cream sandwiches that don't taste healthy at all.

62. Entenmann's Crumb Donuts. A portable version of the crumb cake I grew up on.

61. Philly Swirls Cups. Someone once said the cotton candy flavor made him mouth have an orgasm.

60. Cheetos. I remember the Moving Debacle of 2005...I had Cheetos for lunch.

59. Jax Cheese Puffs. Seriously, what's with all the fake cheese?

58. Hostess Twinkies. Can you shove a whole Twinkie in your mouth in one bite?

57. Keebler Club Crackers. A bit more buttery than Ritz.

56. Kellogg's Rice Krispies Treats. Sure they're easy to make at home, but nothing beats buying them pre-cut and wrapped up.

55. Nasbisco Teddy Grahams (Chocolate). I have Snowman hide these around the apartment. Then I eat them as I find them. I'm kidding. I NEVER do that.

54. Klondike Krunch Ice Cream Sandwiches. Square ice cream...crazy.

53. Fruit Roll-Ups (Strawberry). I think I've actually eaten the plastic on these once or twice.

52. Pringles (Original). I'm notorious for over-eating these and then getting a tummy ache. But do I learn? No.

51. Ruffles (Original). I find Ruffles to be really salty. And that is a good thing.

Junk (Food) In My Trunk #100-76

My (and I emphasize the "my") Top 100 Junk Foods

Maybe I stole this idea from Vinyl Edition and maybe I didn't. Who's to say who invented the list?

Junk food is a subject near and dear to my heart. Around 6 PM my desire for carbs is at its peak. There is nothing better than coming home, kicking off my shoes, and digging into a bag of potato chips.

Before I get into the list proper, here were my arbitrary guidelines:

• Junk food means junk. No yogurt or granola bars.


• Junk food only includes food marketed as junk food. No Pop Tarts.


• Junk food must be processed.


• Junk food does not include candy. Candy is its own list.


• Junk food stands alone. Tostitos must be junky enough on their own, without queso dip.


• Junk food must acquirable in a deli or grocery store. Therefore, no DQ Blizzards.

100. Tostitos. They'd score higher if I could include dips, but I don't think that's fair to the other junk.

99. Little Debbies Apple Flips. I can't say these taste like apple, but I like their chewiness.

98. Little Debbie Fudge Rounds. I can't say these taste like fudge, but I like their chewiness.

98. Smartfood White Cheddar Cheese Popcorn. This snack may have been my first indication that popcorn came in flavors other than buttered.

96. Keebler Fudge Stripe Cookies. Growing up, these were the ultimate treat.

95. Keebler Vienna Fingers. Growing up, these were a drag. Now, though, I think they're tasty.

94. Bugles. Raise your hand if you put these on your fingers.

93. Sun Chips (Original). I've been known to eat an entire bag of these in one sitting.

92. Little Debbies Pecan Spinwheels. I liked unraveling these and eating it like a stick of gum.

91. Cracker Jacks. Would have scored higher if their prizes didn't bite the big one now.

90. Sun Chips French Onion. French Onion trumps Original, but just barely.

89. Fritos BBQ. I don't love the BBQ flavor, but it's hard to ruin a Frito.

88. Little Debbie Chocolate Chip Snack Cakes. Chocolate cake and cream filling? Sign me up.

87. Creamsicle Orange Bars. Something about the taste of orange and cream is so delicious and comforting.

86. Lance Nipchee Crackers. I love the cheese. If you peel it off the cracker, it actually disintegrates into powder.

85. Girl Scout Thin Mints. Must freeze.

84. Honeymaid Graham Crackers (Chocolate). You can almost trick yourself into believing these are healthy.

83. Nabisco Ginger Snaps. I like ginger. And I like things that snap.

82. Nabsico Nilla Wafers. These taste like a slightly stale security blanket.

81. Rold Gold Classic Style Pretzel Thins. Hard to beat this classic incarnation.

80. Rold Gold Honey Wheat Braided Twists. Okay, not that hard. Salty sweet perfection.

79. Nabisco Chicken In a Biscuit Crackers. I just think it's fun to say.

78. Stacy's Pita Chips (Cinnamon Sugar). Just enough sugar to make it a treat.

77. Koala March Cookies. Known as Koala Yummies in my youth. Who doesn't like chocolate-filled marsupials?

76. Nabisco Mallomars. Like a s'mores minus the skeeters.

Pay No Attention To the Woman In Black

I like to think of myself as a pretty good co-worker. I'm pretty easy going; have a good sense of humor; don't dish out much gossip (though, oddly, everyone loves to tell me their gossip...how many times have I had to act like I haven't heard something someone is telling me? Really? I had NO idea.)

But there is one particular area I am woefully deficient in: dealing with grief. If your dog gets hit by a car, I can be sad as all get out in my head, but don't expect me to tell you that. When you find out you have ALS, I'll think "Man, that is really awful" but I'm not going to come around and ask you how you're feeling.

Why is this? I want to be a compassionate person (that word again!). I want to be friendly to people, even if we aren't friends. And to be honest, there aren't very many people I work with that I would consider friends. Most of them are just, well, co-workers.

There is a woman at work whose father has died. He was very old and somewhat ill so it was not too shocking. But when she came back to work, everyone gathered round her and asked how she was holding up; it must be hard on your mother; it comes at such a bad time...I mean, I don't even like saying hi to people sometimes and now I'm supposed to put a kind hand on her shoulder and ask her how she's doing? I can't. I really can't.

I know this offends people. I know feelings are hurt, but I just can't make myself do it. Some people think I'm aloof, which is partially true. Some people may even think I am unkind, but that is not true.

Here is what is true: I'm rather private (particularly so at work). I don't even like it when my boss sends out an email about how I'm out for a doctor's appointment. So if I were actually to, say, lose a parent, I would tell my boss and give him explicit instructions not to mention it to anyone. I don't want flowers or a fruit basket. I don't want cards. I don't want condolences. Even if your motives are sincere, I assure you, they are unnecessary.

Therefore, Woman Whose Dad Has Died, I will leave you alone. And I hope, that should the situation ever be reversed, you will bestow on me the same kindness.

Spamtastic

I get spam. You get spam. We all get spam. It gets sorted neatly into my "spam" folder so I never even see it.




Things like:

-Losing weight has never been so easy!
-SAD TO HAVE SHORT D1CCK
-you have 8 new messages from ladies

go unanswered by me.

Which is fine.

But have you ever seen the names of the people who send these out? They sound like retarded Garbage Pail Kids (no offense to retarded people, garbage men, containers of any kind, or kids). Here are just a few from my spam list:

Abel Stubbs
Lassie T. Petroleum
Stenches E. Hubbard
Gramophone I. Merger
Nabob S. Honeymooner
Lascaux E. Iconoclast
Faisal U. Attica
Catfishes R. Bucked
Scalded D. Sari
Solidness B. Nestle
Trochee D. Haft
Thermoplastic S. Receiva
Schnauzer M. Obscener

I don't know about you, but I want to meet this Trochee D. Haft. We can have some tea and write a few poems together. The great anthropologist Lascaux E. Iconoclast could teach a class on pre-historic art at the Learning Annex. As for Faisal U. Attica, well, he's obviously a terrorist.

Gothamist

New York is a city that I love and hate to equal degrees.

I'd like to steal this quote from Jimmy Breslin because it's the truest thing I've ever heard. Truer than God or "My name is ____" or gravity.

I knew it early on, after having lived here for only a few years, and I know it now, after nearly eight. For every thing I love about New York (the architecture), there is something I hate ($). For every thing I hate about New York (MTA motherfuckers), there is something I love (the amazing, amazing food).

But this isn't a post about the things I hate about New York. This is a post about:

Bridges.

I’ve been over most of them. I’m particularly well-acquainted with the Queensborough Bridge. During the transit strike last December, I walked over it to work and it was a rather peaceful, meditative way to start the day. During the blackout in 2003, I walked down 43 flights of stairs with a co-worker. He lived in Long Island, so we walked over the bridge together. I was sad I didn’t have my camera, but more than that, I was thankful that I had worn decent walking shoes that day.

I love the Verazzano-Narrows. I think it is beautiful, even if it is connected to Staten Island.

I’ve walked over the Brooklyn Bridge with a birthday cake at dusk. And discovered it’s actually kind of hard to get off because the ramp goes on for a long, long way and suddenly you are nowhere near Grimaldi’s anymore.

Snowman had swatted at a birthday piñata underneath the Williamsburg Bridge. I made it for him and filled it up with candy and lotto tickets.

I’ve taken the George Washington on my way to and from the Berkshires.

When I take a cab home and it’s nighttime and we’re cruising on the top level of the Queensborough, I always take a look over my shoulder at the city all lit up, speeding away from me. That’s my city. A co-op city where everyone owns a little piece. I’m always a little bit awed. I can never quite believe it. Is this how Dorothy felt when she saw the Emerald City? Anything could happen in a city like that.

I lean back in the taxi and smile to myself. Suddenly, I can’t wait for tomorrow.

'Cause everyone's your friend in New York City
And everything looks beautiful when you're young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds and there's just so much to see...
-They Might Be Giants

Prostitution Count in Hollywood: Pretty High

What is will all the celebrity shilling? Are they not satisfied with being overpaid on screen? Does $10M a picture NOT cover the bills? It seems like no one cares about having a reputation anymore. Dignity? What the hell is that? They only care about having their face in as many places as possible.

Like InStyle.

The April 2006 issue (with Rebecca Romijn on the cover) (she's got a new TV show coming out, after all!) contains 31 celebrity endorsements.

Here's the rundown:

Sasha Cohen for Citizen watches: This is no way makes me want to buy a watch, especially the über-tacky charm bracelet one that's pictured in the ad. C-

Jennifer Love Hewitt for Hanes: I loathe these ads. They make Hewitt look like a tranvestite. (Oh, btw, she's called Jennifer Love in the ads.) F

Colin Mochrie for Nabisco: He's rather unattractive, which I believe breaks the cardinal rule of celebrity shilling. But I do like the snack packs and he's kind of funny. C+

Courteney Cox for Kinerase: I don't know what this product is or does and I do not care. C

Serena Williams for Spongebob Squarepants: You think I'm kidding, but she is seriously in an ad for a cartoon. C-

Charlize Theron for Christian Dior J'Adore: She looks like a frosty bitch. Not interested in smelling like one. C

Carrie Underwood for Skechers: As a B-lister, this ad is at the right level of sponsorship. She is sitting on the floor with a gaggle of lab puppies (coincidentally, labs are the B-listers of the puppy world; everyone knows golden retrievers are the cutest). C+

Halle Berry for Revlon: Revlon dumped some serious coin on this issue. There are beaucoup ads. This one is simple and attractive. B

Gwyneth Paltrow for Damiani: She has weird eye make-up on, but otherwise a clean, pretty ad. B

Hilary Duff for Candies Foundation PSA: Every celeb knows the way to goodwill is to do a PSA. A simple black and white picture does the trick. I WILL do everything I can to prevent teen pregnancy. Thanks for the tip, Hilary! B+

Samaire Armstrong, Ciara, Hilary Duff, and Michelle Trachtenberg for Candies at Kohl's: Yup, when one starlet isn't enough, you get four! Four girls who normally wear D&G and Prada are now dressed up in clothes from Kohl. Puh-leaze. D

Eva Mendes for Revlon: Not as pleasing as Berry's ad. B-

Kate Winslet for American Express: I like these ads. I'm tired of seeing the same ones everywhere, but I still like them. A

Ellen DeGeneres for American Express: see above. A-

Mischa Barton for Keds: I don't like these ads because I don't buy Barton as an "everygirl" who sits on a stack of watermelons in her Keds skimmers. C+

Kate Bosworth for Revlon: She's pretty enough to pull off a make-up advert, but not famous enough to really make it work. B-

Rachel Weisz for Burberry: Not a big fan of the photo montage tack, but Weisz looks lovely. A-

Gwyneth Paltrow for Estée Lauder Pleasures: That whore! Two ads! She looks rosier in this one. B+

Uma Thurman for Tag Heuer: Simple, unfussy. Nice. A

Julie Bowen for Neutrogena: Scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't they? This ad is lifeless. C-

Queen Latifah for Cover Girl: She looks nice, but can't compete with the Revlon juggernaut. B

Halle Berry for Versace: Another trollop! She looks hot. A

Andie MacDowell for L'Oreal: Back to her modelling roots! Literally...it's an ad for hair color. B-

Mary Kate and Asley Olsen for Badgley Mischka: Not bad. I don't really buy them as refined society people, but I DO buy them as rich girls in fancy clothes who pass out in a druggy haze only to wake up the next morning with vomit on their $10K dresses. Oops. A-

Ashley Judd for American Beauty at Kohl's: Ashley wants us to think she's a simple country girl who shops at Kohl's and wears $20 perfume. I don't buy it. C

Charlize Theron for Aldo fights AIDS PSA: She looks good and there is a big piece of duct tape over her mouth which seems appealing. A

Naomi Watts for David Yurman: I think these ads would benefit by being in color instead of black and white. But still a decent ad. If I could afford it, I'd buy Yurman. A-

I'll post again if I come across a magazine with more than 31 celebrity advertisements. Could be any day now...

Cheerleader Nation

Here are some snippets from actual conversations Snowman and I had while watching Cheerleader Nation:

Snowman: I don't want a daughter.
Michellephant: Oh, I'm totally praying for boys.

***

M: I just don't think I can have a teenager.
S: Maybe they'll die at 12.

***

M: Hey, I fixed the pen.
S: The Viagra one?
M: Uh huh.

***

[Guess who said this]: Fuck you! You don't fucking have a fucking clue! The rules are fucking simple! You don't make the team if you can't do a back handspring!


That's right, it was Snowman.

Sucking at the Teat of a Passive Agressive Life

Although I work for a certain company, I actually work in a separate building from everyone else (a complicated story involving mergers, SEC rulings, and a night in Thailand I'm not at liberty to discuss) so I don't have regular face-to-face interactions with most of my colleagues. Thus, when I do see them in the flesh, it is a slightly awkward experience for all involved. I'm not super chummy and they don't really know who I am so after the "Hey, how's it going?" we have nothing to say, although we somehow feel we should continue this socially painful interaction further with something completely meaningless like "Nice weather, huh?" or "Any big plans this weekend?" [And if I say, "No, not really" they feel like they need to validate me: "Oh, well, sometimes it's nice to just relax," as if I cared what they thought of my weekend] Really, I just want to go away, I want them to go away, I want neither of to ever meet face-to-face again. But this is not to be.

One woman was supposed to give me a copy of a book I had done some work on. In October. I actually got the book from someone else (unbeknownst to this woman), but every time I see this woman she says, "Oh, I need to get you that book." I say something noncommital like, "Okay, whenever" and she says something proactive like "I promise you'll get it. You WILL get it."

I am pretty sure I will never get it.

One man—my boss' boss—used to say every time we saw each other, "I really need to come visit your office." He had said this to me about twenty times over the course of a year. He redeemed himself only once by saying, "Every time I see you, I say 'I need to visit you.'"

Needless to say, he has never visited.

I don't really care about either of these things too much, but to these people, they obviously mean something important, something to do. Why don't they just shut up and do them? Why doesn't the woman just give me the book so we can go back to the awkward conversations about my lame weekends? Why doesn't the man just come visit so we can stop speaking to each other altogether?

I told a friend I would burn a CD of the cheesy music we used to listen to in high school. She said she would do the same for me. We have neither of us done this, though I am constantly thinking, "Man, I should really make that damn thing." Why don't I just do it?

Because, oddly, discomfort is soothing. Anger is cozy. Depression is a nuk. When we shed our skins, not matter how rotten they are, we're naked. And when you finally do the thing you always said you were going to do, you lose the possibility of doing it. You lose the power you had over the person who was waiting for that thing to be done (however slight, however imagined).

I think, perhaps, I will never make that CD for my faraway friend. Then, on my deathbed, I'll whisper into my grown-up child's ear: Roxette.

Oh, Sammy's so confused he don't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt.

I feel like I should open this post with a joke:

Q: What do you call Dolly Parton in a bathtub?

A: Islands in the Stream.

But seriously, I love Dolly. She's her own person. She seems nice and funny and charming. She doesn't put on airs about who she is or what she does to herself (she even calls herself a dog-and-pony show). I like 9 to 5 and Steel Magnolias an awful lot. I've already informed Snowman numerous times that if we ever go to Tennessee, we will be stopping at Dollywood hell or highwater. I wanted her to win the Oscar. I used to watch her variety show. There was a skit where she was a waitress at a truck stop. A teenager was there, looking to catch a ride with a driver somewhere. She finds a ride and as the driver's about to leave, Dolly says to him, "Drive carefully. You're carrying the most important cargo: young dreams." Wow.

And just when I thought I couldn't like her anymore she says the following: One of my dreams is to have my own line of frozen foods.

Anyone who dreams of owning a line of frozen food is aces in my book.

PS-March is National Frozen Food Month. For real. I used to work in a grocery store, so I know this to be true, but if you don't believe me, go here.

OSCARS recap

You know some people say the only thing people are interested in anymore, as far as the Oscars are concerned, are the clothes. How superficial. What's really important are the awards. Well, I say phooey on you. The awards aren't really very important either. What do I really care if a movie—which, sure, I liked well enough—wins an award? Wins a thousand awards? Basically, I don't know anyone affiliated with this movie from the director straight on down to the catering service, and whether or not this movie wins in no way affects my enjoyment of said film. These awards are basically a circle jerk for Hollywood power players who use their newfound status as "Academy Award winners" to get bigger paychecks and more caché. So why not fixate on fashion? It's at least as important as anything else that happens that night.

On another note, I've decided to do away with gender division. The people are clamoring for equality (it's actually more out of my own laziness, but whatev)! I'm just going to list everyone straight up "best dressed" and "worst dressed."

BEST DRESSED:

Will Smith looked superfine in his pinstripes and velvet vest. Points off for the double diamond studs (ditto for Ludacris and Jamie Foxx) which I think is, well, gay.



George Clooney also looked dreamy in his bespoke Armani tux. Love the tuxedo stripe on the pants, a tradition which seems long forgotten (but maybe I'm just not going to enough black tie events).



My two favorite ladies were Sandra Bullock, who wore a gorgeous navy blue Angel Sanchez frock with pockets (I love dresses with pockets—very 50's),



and Michelle Williams who wore a wonderful marigold-colored Vera Wang confection which looked fantastic with her red lipstick.



Heidi Klum also gets points for her lovely flowy ice blue dress. Heidi's fashion sense is always questionable, so it's nice to see her looking so classy.



WORST DRESSED:

Tim Burton. Not really shocking.

Graydon Carter, who wore an inexplicable pair of blue plaid pants with a tuxedo jacket. I'm sure he was just trying to be "different" but it's his party! He should look like the host, not the little kid who stayed up past his bedtime.



I have to call out Felicity Huffman in a Zac Posen dress, who looked great from the neck up and the waist down, but she is in her mid-40's and I just think side boob cleavage is reserved for those much younger (and even then I have my reservations). I mean, I get it—she was just in a movie about a man who wanted to be a woman and she is also the frumpiest of the housewives, but c'mon, lady, act your age.



Bahar Soomekh almost gets it right. The color of her Calvin Klein dress is great, but the drooping v-neck and lack of, erm, support, are not doing her figure any favors.



Ziyi Zhang is gorgeous and usually looks great, but I hate this Armani dress on her. She has the opposite problem of Huffman: she wants to grow up too fast. I call it Mena Suvari Syndrome (remember when she wore that matronly Escada gown to the Oscars?). Zhang should be wearing something fun and youthful and this dress is just too...old.



Lauren Hutton. I can't explain.



Regina King. It looks like she bought this dress three months ago and thought, "I'll lose weight to get into this thing" and then never did. As they say in the biz (the grocery store biz) "Trying to fit ten pounds of potatoes into an eight-pound sack."



BEST PLUS ONES:

Les Moonves' wife, TV personality Julie Chen, looks smokin' hot in this red number.



Rupert Murdoch's wife, Wendy Deng, also looks fantastic.



I love these stuffed penguins. Maybe a little hokey, but fun. If I were actually at the Oscars, I would have tried to steal one.



WORST PLUS ONES:

Easily Martin Landau's date, Gretchen Becker. Yikes! The embroidered dress is bad enough, but those boots!



I actually found the clothes this year rather pedestrian. It seems like the more outlandish outfits now happen at the Vanity Fair party.

PS-Why was Terrence Howard wearing a brooch? I can't think of a possible circumstance in which it is okay for a man to wear a brooch.

My Most Fabulous Day

You know how when you read those new year's horoscopes they will give you a list of days throughout the year that are supposed to be "fabulous" or "lucky in love" or "stay at home"? I decided to actually test that this year, so I wrote down all the fabulous days for my sign in my Palm Pilot. (I don't remember what magazine I got this information out of, but it is safe to say it probably had some über-skinny model on the cover with wind blown hair and something about having the best sex of my life on page 64.) The first day was February 20^th. Here's how it went:

• President's Day, so I didn't have to go to work: most fabulous
  
• Did my taxes and am getting back a decent return: most fabulous
  
• Went to Win-Depot (a restaurant supply store) and bought a pizza plate because I'm tired of cooking pizza on a cookie sheet: not really what I'd call fabulous but I do like new kitchen gadgets, so I'll call it very fine
  
• Worked on very belated art project: very fine
  
• Went for a ride in a friend's new car; more fabulous for him, but not so bad for me: fine
  
• Ate a crappy veggie burger and decent fries at a diner: I hate crappy food! This gets a not fabulous
  
• Watched a very good episode of "How I Met Your Mother"...freeze frame high-five...hi-lar-i-ous: very fine
  

Overall, because of the no-work and good tax return, I would say this day was on the low end of fabulous.

Next fabulous day: May 7^th

A Valentine's Day Love Story...

I'm sure Snowman would have some objections to me telling this story, but tell it I must.

He was talking to an ex-girlfriend a week ago (he thought her dad might be able to do some work for his company). He always tells me when he talks to one of them, which is rather infrequent. I asked—fool that I am—if he mentioned me. He—fool that he is—told me this: Ex asked if he or his brother were seeing anyone to which Snowman replied "Neither of us are married."

I'm not mad. And I'm not in any way insecure about his feelings or our relationship. But, seriously, what kind of answer is that?

Lactose Ad Intolerant

Much like the ubiquitous Absolut vodka ads, I think the "Got Milk?" ads have overstayed their welcome. How long until they go all Inside the Actor's Studio and get people like Bo Bice and Bruce Villanch to do spots?

But nevermind that. Is it just me or is the ad featuring the ladies from The View the scariest thing you've ever seen? It's obviously been PhotoShopped like mad because they look like demonic clowns. I know what you're thinking: I thought Joy Behar was a demonic clown. If that's what drinking milk makes you look like, I'll stick to my Cornflakes and chocolate syrup, thank you very much.

Longing for the days of Milk, It Does a Body Good.

Things You Can Do During a Blizzard...

• sleep in late
  
• fall down in the snow
  
• make snow angels on a basketball court
  
• have someone bark like a rabid dog while he chases you in the waist-deep drift
  
• go to a diner and eat warm comfort food
  
• have someone push you around the parking lot at Costco in an abandoned shopping cart
  
• think of ways to break into Socrates Sculpture Garden
  
• make s'mores over the gas stove
  
• play chicken by sliding towards each other and seeing who falls first
  
• offer to help people shovel their cars out of the snow
  
• write your name in the snow
  
• watch old episodes of Star Trek: Next Generation
  

The Open Mind (or Are You a Conservative Liberal?)

I think some people don't actually know what it means to be open-minded—and therefore are also foggy on the details of close-mindedness. Some people think because they have tattoos, listen to Franz Ferdinand, regularly employ various outré sexual positions, and have gay friends that they are open-minded. But should someone come along and question any of those things: Tattoos are immoral. Franz Ferdinand sucks. I only like it missionary. Homosexuality is a sin. this person, who believes he is open-minded, goes ballistic. Rants about crazy conservative Christians who can't accept anything outside the norm. Posts blogs about how fucked up middle America is and stay the fuck out of my life you strait-laced twat.

Now I ask you, is that an open-minded person? Because, technically, the dictionary definition of close-minded is intolerant of the beliefs and opinions of others and I have to think that definition is a two-way street. It goes for the Christians who don't believe in pre-marital sex and it goes for liberals who don't believe in waiting. Some people wave the banner of "Don't judge me and I won't judge you" but that's a heavy banner to carry, and what I suspect they really mean is "Don't judge me because I'm not 'normal' but you're a poser for walking down the middle of the road." Hey, some people like the middle of the road! That little yellow line down the highway is a convenient guide, you know.

You wear the t-shirts. You have a nose ring. You know a guy named Terry who is "fabulous." Is that all it takes to be open-minded? Don't judge me and I won't judge you. So you say. But do you really have the balls to stand behind that or are you too busy telling right-wingers to fuck off?

Q: How many times can Giada de Laurentiis say "gorgonzola balls" without it sounding dirty?

A: Once.

a public service announcement...

I kind of thought all New Yorkers knew the story with the clock in Union Square already. I heard about it years ago (certainly didn't have the wherewithal to figure it out for myself) and you know how when you know something you assume everyone knows it. But two people I was with today had no idea what the numbers meant, I realized there are probably loads of people just as clueless. So here's the deal:

Death of a Door-to-Door Energy Salesman

There are some adjustments to be made moving from a midtown high-rise doorman building to an eight-apartment walk-up in Queens:

• The apartments creak.
• The water temperature is never consistent.
• There are no right angles in my apartment (seriously, everything is like 92° or 88°...hanging blinds are a bitch!).
• Packages are now delivered to work since there is no one to sign for them.

Oh, sure, there are good things too, but that's another post.

What I hate the most about not having a doorman is that people will ring my buzzer all the time, even though I do not know who they are and will not let them in. This happened a few nights ago. We didn't let him in. But someone did.

He knocks on our door. We ignore him. He knocks again. If I were alone, I certainly wouldn't have answered, but Snowman was there. We asked who he was; he mumbled something incoherent about "energy" and "ConEd." This is of course the beginning of a story on the 6 o'clock news about some crazy murderer who poses as a ConEd worker and rapes old ladies. But we opened the door anyway.

It was an 18-year old kid selling energy. I'm not kidding. You know how you can change your energy provider? It doesn't have to be ConEd (if you don't know, go here). This kid is going door-to-door trying to sign people up to his company...Energy Plus or something. He asks to see our ConEd bill, which I can't find for like five minutes. He's giving his spiel, which I can't totally understand because he has a really strong accent, and at 18, I doubt he is highly knowledgeable about his product anyway. So Snowman says, "Okay, leave us your information and we'll look it over." Salesman says, "Oh no, you have to sign up right now." We say, "Sure...we'll give our personal information to a person we don't know working for a company we've never heard of. Wait, I have a better idea. Why don't we just give you all our credit cards? I'll write my social security number on a scrap of paper and I'll also give you my city of birth, because you know how they like to ask that as a 'security' question. You want a beer? I got some in the fridge."

He leaves and proceeds to knock on our neighbor's door. I kind of felt bad for him. That's gotta be a shitty job. Even if he's trying to scam us, that's still gotta be a shitty job.

The next day when I come home from work I hear an upstairs neighbor (I hardly ever see any neighbors) calling me out. He's about my age and he's got a charming Irish accent. He just wants to talk about the crazy energy salesman and wants to make sure I'm not letting random people into the building (which I assure him I am not). He's going on about it all and I'm thinking, "Wow, I have a cute neighbor."

I find the whole thing absurd. What happened to vacuum cleaners and encyclopedias? I don't even get freaking Girl Scouts on my street. But energy providers? Yeah, that I got.