Sunday, April 27, 2008
The Green Flash is Mythical
The green flash does not exist. I earnestly believe this. Ok, no I don't. But! I am just fairly depressed that I have never actually seen it. I want to believe that it doesn't exist, because how else would I not have seen it yet? :(
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Friends Don't Let Friends Buy Steve Maddens
Steve Maddens are cheap, shitty shoes. I'm always enticed by the cute styles/affordable prices but then I remember that I could buy four pairs of Steve Maddens which I will never wear because they are so very uncomfortable, or one pair of ..nice.. shoes which I will wear all the time because I can actually wear them all day long.
Remember, if your friend tries to drag you into a Steven Madden store, say "No--I'm not letting you do this. Friends don't let friends buy Steve Maddens."
Remember, if your friend tries to drag you into a Steven Madden store, say "No--I'm not letting you do this. Friends don't let friends buy Steve Maddens."
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Vignette Three: Spiders on a String
Because I sort of couldn't wait to tell this story, and I don't have anything else to do, I'm going to cruise through number three.
My dad has always liked to antagonize us. I remember various instances of this. (Cough cough "Glenny boy loves you" cough cough.) It continues with my younger sister Emma. Dads like to do that sort of stuff. It is what it is.
When we lived across the railroad tracks in Wenonah, NJ, my Dad (and to be fair, my mom too, as she was the one who must have held the video camera) used to like to do things to us while we were sleeping and video tape it. Before you get creeped out, read on....
Most notably, they would put stickers on our faces and watch us kind of squirm and toss and turn. Kind of funny, right? Well, then they graduated from stickers to pom-pom arachnids.
The most hilarious video ever (beside the Christmas Show) is of my dad dangling a pom-pom spider on a string just barely on our faces. He would let it tickle us and we would swat it away (deep in REM, mind you). This continued for quite sometime. Somehow, remaining in slumber mode, my sister and I managed flail and swat this crafty spider away, despite the guttural laughs that were occurring around us.
The video is hilarious. Boy, they must have been very bored to do this.
Vignette Four: 100 Happy People, coming soon
My dad has always liked to antagonize us. I remember various instances of this. (Cough cough "Glenny boy loves you" cough cough.) It continues with my younger sister Emma. Dads like to do that sort of stuff. It is what it is.
When we lived across the railroad tracks in Wenonah, NJ, my Dad (and to be fair, my mom too, as she was the one who must have held the video camera) used to like to do things to us while we were sleeping and video tape it. Before you get creeped out, read on....
Most notably, they would put stickers on our faces and watch us kind of squirm and toss and turn. Kind of funny, right? Well, then they graduated from stickers to pom-pom arachnids.
The most hilarious video ever (beside the Christmas Show) is of my dad dangling a pom-pom spider on a string just barely on our faces. He would let it tickle us and we would swat it away (deep in REM, mind you). This continued for quite sometime. Somehow, remaining in slumber mode, my sister and I managed flail and swat this crafty spider away, despite the guttural laughs that were occurring around us.
The video is hilarious. Boy, they must have been very bored to do this.
Vignette Four: 100 Happy People, coming soon
Vignette Two: Walking is Hard
This one is short but sweet.
I'm a klutz. I have no balance. I'm not graceful. I, at any given time, have at least 2-3 bruises from running into things. It's not a new thing, and it's not going away. It is what it is. It just is.
When I was like 10-13, I was at the Atlantic City Airport, preparing to fly to Florida or something. I was walking along with me mum and grandmother and pulling along me suitcase. And I ran into a cement pole. Smacked right on into it.
Walking is hard.
Coming soon: Vignette Three, Spiders on a String
I'm a klutz. I have no balance. I'm not graceful. I, at any given time, have at least 2-3 bruises from running into things. It's not a new thing, and it's not going away. It is what it is. It just is.
When I was like 10-13, I was at the Atlantic City Airport, preparing to fly to Florida or something. I was walking along with me mum and grandmother and pulling along me suitcase. And I ran into a cement pole. Smacked right on into it.
Walking is hard.
Coming soon: Vignette Three, Spiders on a String
Someone Flipped Me Off Today
Umm, hello? Why did you flip me off, sir?
I was driving to work this a.m. on the 8, as per usual, and as I was merging right to get into my exit lane (which I did safely, with respect to the peeps trying to get out of that lane) the dude behind me flipped me off. He flipped me off. Umm, hello?
Um, hi?
I was driving to work this a.m. on the 8, as per usual, and as I was merging right to get into my exit lane (which I did safely, with respect to the peeps trying to get out of that lane) the dude behind me flipped me off. He flipped me off. Umm, hello?
Um, hi?
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Self Righteous Driving School
I have decided that I'm going to start a driving school and call it the Self Righteous Driving School.
Budding drivers who seek direction from me will learn the ways of a self-righteous driver; that is, following the rules and getting indignant when others don't. Major topics include lines to turn into parking lots/onto freeways. Also to include upsetting impatient speedy drivers behind you by going at least 5 miles slower than the speed limit.
For your consideration, part I.
Nicole has challenged me.
Vignette One: The Christmas Show
Everyone who knows me knows that I have a flair for the dramatic...to put it lightly. For as long as I can remember this has been the case. When I was in fourth grade, I went to an Episcopal school and we lived in this fabulous apartment in Baltimore, MD, on the second floor of the former German Embassy. It consisted of three gigantic rooms and a kitchen. My sister Andrea and I had a ballroom for a bedroom complete with crystal chandelier. It was insane. Insane! Suffice it to say, I doubt a day went by that we didn't leap, sashay or twirl through that room. I mean, how could we not.
And so it was the winter of 93-94. Andrea was in her tomboy phase...which lasted for a while. I just thought I was the most graceful artistic thing...and a dancer, to boot. We were thick as thieves, especially considering our only friends outside of school were a crack dealer who stole Emma's stroller and a homeless man named Skinny, whom we fed Gushers and ambushed with snowballs. Our grandmother was visiting and she had a video camera. A video camera! Which she was willing, nay WANTED to use to film us doing what we do best...performing.
So the stage was set. I pulled out my best costume dress (light blue with tiny raised white polka dots and a big, full skirt, in case you wanted to know). I made tickets, and instructed Andrea as to how this was going to go. It was February. We had this Christmas tape we couldn't let go of, so yeah, we were going to do our Christmas song and dance show. In February. Not a big deal.
We had assigned songs. I took classics and slow ballads. Andrea got the perky, upbeat, kidzbop style. She was cut out for those. You had the spunk and the club moves. Sure, she fell down in the middle of one of her routines, but she also stopped dancing at one point to alert: "Look! Backwards pants!" What up, Criss Cross!
With what I perceived to be swan-like grace and the voice of an angel, I set out to move my audience with a beautiful rendition of 'Silent Night.' Something about this upset Andrea. Apparently, she didn't just want to be known for hip hop Christmas. As I was floating around (my) stage, joining the tape with my vocals, I hear the screeching sounds of another...Andrea. She was trying to join my song. This was obviously, and justifiably upsetting. I pleaded for her to stop. I reasoned that this was my song, my turn. She would now listen. So I did the only thing I thought would work. I started kicking her. But I didn't just stop dancing ops to take care of business....no no no. I worked it into my routine. Yeah, there was twirling, graceful hand motions, angelic choruses, and a KICK to the side. And repeat. This did not stop Andrea. Rather it encouraged her to continue. She started singing louder and kicking back. What's more is that the camera ceased to be just on me. Andrea! Sabotage! By the end of the song, I was pouty, near tears, and Andrea emerged as the clear victor of this little battle royale. She had ruined my song, ruined my dance, and stole attention away from me.
And so, the story of a Christmas routine, gone horribly awry. In February. And caught on tape. We watch it virtually every year. We are in tears every single time. And we always vow that if we would just send it in to America's Funniest Home Videos, we would win.
Coming next...Vignette Two: Walking is Hard.
Vignette One: The Christmas Show
Everyone who knows me knows that I have a flair for the dramatic...to put it lightly. For as long as I can remember this has been the case. When I was in fourth grade, I went to an Episcopal school and we lived in this fabulous apartment in Baltimore, MD, on the second floor of the former German Embassy. It consisted of three gigantic rooms and a kitchen. My sister Andrea and I had a ballroom for a bedroom complete with crystal chandelier. It was insane. Insane! Suffice it to say, I doubt a day went by that we didn't leap, sashay or twirl through that room. I mean, how could we not.
And so it was the winter of 93-94. Andrea was in her tomboy phase...which lasted for a while. I just thought I was the most graceful artistic thing...and a dancer, to boot. We were thick as thieves, especially considering our only friends outside of school were a crack dealer who stole Emma's stroller and a homeless man named Skinny, whom we fed Gushers and ambushed with snowballs. Our grandmother was visiting and she had a video camera. A video camera! Which she was willing, nay WANTED to use to film us doing what we do best...performing.
So the stage was set. I pulled out my best costume dress (light blue with tiny raised white polka dots and a big, full skirt, in case you wanted to know). I made tickets, and instructed Andrea as to how this was going to go. It was February. We had this Christmas tape we couldn't let go of, so yeah, we were going to do our Christmas song and dance show. In February. Not a big deal.
We had assigned songs. I took classics and slow ballads. Andrea got the perky, upbeat, kidzbop style. She was cut out for those. You had the spunk and the club moves. Sure, she fell down in the middle of one of her routines, but she also stopped dancing at one point to alert: "Look! Backwards pants!" What up, Criss Cross!
With what I perceived to be swan-like grace and the voice of an angel, I set out to move my audience with a beautiful rendition of 'Silent Night.' Something about this upset Andrea. Apparently, she didn't just want to be known for hip hop Christmas. As I was floating around (my) stage, joining the tape with my vocals, I hear the screeching sounds of another...Andrea. She was trying to join my song. This was obviously, and justifiably upsetting. I pleaded for her to stop. I reasoned that this was my song, my turn. She would now listen. So I did the only thing I thought would work. I started kicking her. But I didn't just stop dancing ops to take care of business....no no no. I worked it into my routine. Yeah, there was twirling, graceful hand motions, angelic choruses, and a KICK to the side. And repeat. This did not stop Andrea. Rather it encouraged her to continue. She started singing louder and kicking back. What's more is that the camera ceased to be just on me. Andrea! Sabotage! By the end of the song, I was pouty, near tears, and Andrea emerged as the clear victor of this little battle royale. She had ruined my song, ruined my dance, and stole attention away from me.
And so, the story of a Christmas routine, gone horribly awry. In February. And caught on tape. We watch it virtually every year. We are in tears every single time. And we always vow that if we would just send it in to America's Funniest Home Videos, we would win.
Coming next...Vignette Two: Walking is Hard.
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