Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Facebook: where every day is your high school reunion

My 10-year high school reunion is coming up this year, and suddenly the people who constantly made fun of me amid those hallowed halls (who all won various high school elections and are therefore in charge of the reunion -- ah, the memories) are coming out of the woodwork.

I've received Facebook friend requests from several of them, one of which came in yesterday. I find it interesting that they didn't notice that we HAD been "friends" on Facebook at one time... in the good old days when Facebook first went public and was inaccurately recommending to them that I'm someone they might "like" -- oh Zuckerberg, how wrong you can be -- and I had no idea what was going on so I just accepted everyone's requests whether we were really friends or not. In turn they never realized they had been promptly de-friended once I got my wits about me and figured out that there was no reason for me to be "friends" with people I was never friends with in real life, and no repercussions for their deletion since they really didn't know me at all.

When messages are included with their requests, they usually go something like this: "Ohmigoddd how are youuu?!?! What have you been up to?!" ...In the last 10 years? Oh, not much... ??... "I miss high school, don't you?!" ...Uh... not really, thanks for that by the way... "I hope you're going to the reunion!!" There it is. "We should totally get together, OMGzzz!!!!"

... Wait, we should GET TOGETHER? Um look, I'm all about letting bygones be bygones, but if you didn't want to "hang out" with me when you sat next to me in the same classroom in high school, what on earth makes you think we should hang out now that I live hours away from you and we officially have had nothing whatsoever in common for the last 10 years? How did you picture it working out, did you want me to come to your apartment for the weekend, or were you hoping that instead of hanging out with the people who were actually nice to me in high school on my next trip home, I should spend time with you and your friends who all mocked me throughout my formative years, just for the hell of it? Do you even have my phone number? I guess I'm just having a hard time really envisioning the logistics.

There are a lot of people who were always hoping for attention from these lovelies, but unfortunately I was never one of them, so I am getting nothing out of this except irritation. Sometimes I see people who always wanted to be cool "liking" these people's posts on Facebook, and I think, YOU DO NOT EVEN LIKE EACH OTHER, what are you doing? Which leads me in a roundabout way to my point.

I'll preface this by saying Facebook is great and anyone who is friends with me on there has probably figured out by now that I am clearly addicted to it. But on that note, Facebook is seriously the worst. This is drama I wouldn't have to deal with if Facebook didn't exist. I feel like it's a John Hughes movie, and I am being set up for some elaborate scheme where these people "friend" me and then everyone laughs at me in the lunchroom. In my old age I realize that I am just being paranoid and that people's glory days ended in high school and this is a way to try to get it back. But thanks to Facebook, it's in my face. Why do we even need reunions these days anyway? I can go find, in an organized fashion (occupation, relationship status, interested in: men/women/both) what's going on in all these people's lives. And I still see/talk to the people I like. I don't really need the rest of the updates, in person or online. It used to be that your 10-year reunion was really the only time you'd have to deal with your classmates after graduation. But with Facebook, every day is a f***ing reunion. And the dynamics of our high school seem to be playing out online. The more things change the more things stay the same.

But maybe I'll be a surprise to them anyway. Because little do they know, adulthood has given me the freedom to be even more geeky and bizarre than I ever dared to be in high school. FTW. So here's a someecard for the road, I'm off to listen to the original Carousel record on my turntable, or to watch a documentary about origami, or to read the autobiography of Mark Twain. While deleting friend requests. Suckers.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

No good deed...

In yet another fit of inspiration so typical in my life, I decided despite the complete disaster of laundry sprawled about my apartment, the cleaning that needs to happen, the Christmas presents that remain unwrapped, hell, the nails that need to be repainted, that my new life project is going to be my teeth. I have fine teeth, routine dentist appointments, you know, but my sister went to the dentist and had cavities and  for some reason I freaked out as if they were in my own mouth.

Evil Fluoride.
I went to the store like a good little human and bought some new floss and some better mouthwash. I didn't know they made Crest Pro-Health with FLUORIDE! And it's purple. It's like a Christmas miracle! Score. For the last several days I've been diligently mouthwashing away, what's another minute if it means no cavities or gingivitis, right? YESSS! It's Christmas, and Jesus loves fluoride! I'm free at last!

But the day after I started using it, my tongue started to feel like I drank a scalding mug of coffee. Yeah, the end of my tongue feels like it's all burned. It looks normal. But it feels burned. And I didn't burn it on anything, believe me, I'd remember, and so would you, because I'm sure I'd be on here bitching and complaining about it. Nope, didn't burn it.

I started reading forums and health websites and gave myself a self-diagnosis of either:
  • Tongue cancer (80% sure this was it)
  • Thrush (a disease I'm pretty sure only babies or horses get) (5%)
  • An STD born in a manger (since I have no idea how the hell I would have contracted it considering the fact that I am basically a hermit who boys hate) (5%)
  • A reaction to an antibiotic that someone crushed up and mixed into some other food I ate, since I haven't taken one in like a year (10%)
So I took a walk outside to get some fresh air and stop myself from fainting, and it dawned on me that the only thing I really changed in my life was that I started using that fluoride. (And that I started listening to Christmas music but that couldn't burn my tongue... could it... hey wait could it? Stupid Amy Grant...) I came back inside, turned off my Christmas music, did another quick search and found other people online who had this exact reaction from that exact mouthwash, and then I asked two friends, and they also have had this reaction from fluoride in the past.

And just as quickly as my illegitimate, ill-fated and ill-begotten love affair with dental care began, here it ends.

Here I am, trying to be conscientious and plaque-free, and it blows up right in my face. So I figure I might as well throw it all to the wind and go buy some pixy stix and a pack of Fruit Stripe gum. Goddamnit.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Think what you want about WikiLeaks but stop what you're saying about rape

I know that I've been absent from here for a while, but I've been wanting to write something about this and have just been too busy. I was going to let it go, but I read more things today that made me realize I can't not say something. So here I am.

I have friends who have strong feelings on both sides of the WikiLeaks debate. I think it's all interesting, and I'm really not sure how I feel about it. But it's beside the point. What I do have strong feelings about, completely separate from anything related to WikiLeaks, are the things people are saying about the rape charges against Julian Assange.

Whether he raped these women or not is not the point. The things people say because of it are really destructive and seriously not okay. Making jokes about it, making fun of his accusers (Naomi Wolfe, I'm looking at you), dismissing it automatically because you're in love with Julian Assange for creating WikiLeaks... these are severely destructive reactions to a serious topic like rape. Trivializing rape itself, whether it happened at Julian Assange's hand or not, is only going to dissuade people who actually have been raped from reporting it. Yes, it's horrible and destructive when people who have not been raped say they have for fame or attention or whatever the reason they do it, and those people are just as culpable and to blame for all of this, but honestly you or I have no control over that.

What we DO have control over is our reaction to discussions about rape.

I really wish people would stop and THINK about the fact that hello, some people actually HAVE been raped, and mocking or discrediting anyone who says they have been raped, just because the person who may have raped them is someone in a position of power or a celebrity you like, is only serving to discourage people who actually have been raped from ever reporting it. You have no idea how many people around you have been raped/sexually assaulted, and guess what? It's a lot more than you think. There is already a social stigma associated with having been raped, and with reporting rape. Can you imagine what it's like to have been raped and then to be debating whether you should report it because you don't know if anyone will believe you, or if they like the rapist better than you and so they think it couldn't POSSIBLY have happened (hello I'm not just talking about celebrities, this happens on college campuses ALL THE TIME, especially when it involves athletes or frat boys), or because of what they might say about you and about what kind of person you are? It really makes me mad, I'm sorry, but it's unacceptable.

What you say about rape matters, because other people can hear you. I can't bear to read comments online about any of these Julian Assange stories or posts, because it destroys my faith in humanity, and people are saying such disgusting things that it makes me want to cry. If you think sexism is dead, read comments on an article about this and you will see that you're wrong. That's just a fact of life, and again there's not much I can do about that, but I BEG you to please stop and think next time before you say something about a rape case. When it's a celebrity, everyone always assumes it didn't happen, and maybe it did and maybe it didn't, but it DOES happen and could have happened to anyone you're talking to. And it will make them feel horrible. And it could happen in the future to the person you're talking to. Or to their sister. Or their daughter. Or their son. (!) And they will remember what you said. And they will remember other people's reactions to this. And they will probably not report what happened to them. And the person who raped them will probably walk around and, who knows, rape someone else. This happens every day.

Whether or not Julian Assange raped someone, please stop talking about it the way you're talking about it, because not everyone is a powerful celebrity and this is just going to perpetuate the already impossible situation of people you know reporting actual rape. Think you don't know anyone who has been raped? Maybe they never felt comfortable talking with you about it because they heard what you said when someone else had been raped.

People Who Agree And Have Said It Much More Eloquently:
Who Hears You When You Speak About Rape
Talking About Julian Assange Has Become Utterly Terrible
When A Feminist Trivializes Rape
Some Thoughts on 'Sex By Surprise'
Silence Around A Fraternity Sex Assault Case

Friday, August 13, 2010

Top 10 TV Ladies I wish I could be more like

Every week my sister, two of our friends and I play a little top 10 list game. My sister picks the topic, and we all answer with our own top 10 list, usually supplemented by pictures, descriptions, and sometimes videos. I put a little time into it every week, so I thought it might as well share some of the lists with you guys. Yay, right? This week's topic was:

Top 10 TV Ladies I wish I could be a little more like

10. Bailey (Grey’s Anatomy): She’s badass, a strong person, sensitive, and always gives the best advice. If only I could manage my interns as well as Bailey manages her residents-in-training. Plus, she’s totally cool and isn’t afraid to stand up to everyone and tell them the truth, including her boss, colleagues, and even patients. I could stand to be a little more Bailey in my daily life. Need evidence?: Clip

9. Ally McBeal (Ally McBeal): Ally is a complete mess but she’s hilarious and is a tough lawyer woman who has fun friends and a great job and lots of dates and a great overactive imagination and is really really funny. She hangs out at a piano bar every night. And she is the running consciousness of so many single late-20’s women in NY. (That quote in the clip below – “And I am WOMAN.” So great.) Plus, pulling off those mini-skirts AT WORK? I mean, come on. (PS sorry, I HAD to pick a clip with RDJ because I am in love with him, but the clip is actually REALLY perfect, if you watch the entire thing you’ll see it describes exactly what I’m saying… also, I should mention how much I LOVE Renee. I also really like her ‘90s lipstick.) Clip

8. Mary Tyler Moore (Mary Tyler Moore): Come on guys, she can turn the world on with her smile! Even in a really sexist day and age, MTM worked her way up from the “secretary” job she applied for to an important news producer position at a male-centric news office… and she did it looking really really cute. (LOVE this clip.) Clip

7. Starbuck (Battlestar Galactica): She’s Galactica’s best fighter pilot and she drinks and plays cards. Need I really say more? She is a tomboy but also girly and sexy and just totally badass. She hangs out with the boys, she’s pretty deep, she speaks her mind, and she has a troubled past but a bright future. She’s quick and witty and a tough cookie. Love. (PS the clip below – the whole thing is great, but Starbuck comes in at like 1:20… uh can you say BADASS?? And she’s picturing Adama the whole time?! Ugh I love her.) Clip

6. Cristina Yang (Grey’s Anatomy): She’s the entire reason I watch Grey’s Anatomy. Yes she’s a little emotionally stunted, but she’s another tough cookie who means what she says and says what she means. She’s private and sarcastic and so overly capable and super smart and she’s not afraid to bitch-slap someone. But then she has these moments of real emotion, like in the clip below and you can tell that she’s actually a really deep really sensitive person, she just doesn’t show her cards. God I love her. In my opinion, she’s the rock of the show. Clip

5. Dana (Sports Night): She’s the executive producer of a major sports show on a major network. And she is GOOD. Seriously, she’s really really really good at what she does. She also hangs out with the boys but is a total girly girl. She tells people where it’s at and keeps the boys in line. Plus, she’s really funny and sarcastic. Really good writing on Aaron Sorkin’s part, and really great acting on Felicity Huffman’s part. (You can tell what I mean even in the first couple minutes of this clip. How much do you love me?) Clip

4. Lorelai (Gilmore Girls): She’s a tough single mom who’s just totally adorable and hilarious and addicted to caffeine and eats donuts and pancakes and pizza and French toast and doesn’t even care. She’s always quick with a perfect comeback and she hangs out at the local diner and knows everyone in town and has seen every movie ever and knows every pop culture reference in the world and does everything she can for her daughter and is the coolest mom ever. She’s definitely kind of a mess, but in a good way. I seriously want to be her. Minus the teen pregnancy aspect of course, I could live without that. (It was so hard to pick a scene because there are so many good ones, but I love this clip, this scene makes me laugh SO hard! Okay, every scene in the diner makes me laugh so hard…) Clip

3. Tami Taylor (Friday Night Lights): In the last few seasons she’s been school counselor, stay at home mom, school principal, volleyball coach, headline news, party host extraordinaire, the coach’s loyal and loving wife, and mom of a teenager and a baby all at the same time… the woman is literally a goddess and can do anything. You have to envy her relationship with Coach Taylor (god they’re so cute, I want my marriage to be like that), and as she says herself, “I am right 100% of the time. You can ask my husband.” Damn she’s good. And she makes the best decisions. And she’s so pretty!! My idol. Clip

2. Claire Huxtable (The Cosby Show): …Almost as much as Claire Huxtable. She is a professional powerhouse, raised like an entire neighborhood full of kids, she has the best husband and the most loving marriage relationship in the entire world, she’s GORGEOUS and she is seriously hilarious. All she has to do is give her kids one glance and they shut up immediately. If I could be a mom like Clarie Huxtable (not to mention her professional acumen – way-o!), I think I would be happy forever. (“Let me tell you something Elvin…”) Clip

1. Liz Lemon (30 Rock): Okay well I mean you knew this had to be my number one. I already relate too much to Liz Lemon and her complete neuroses. But I seriously love her and want to be even more like her. She runs the writing staff at 30 Rock, holds her own with Jackie D, contains Tracey and Jenna, she’s hilarious, and let’s be honest, they want to act like she’s a frumpy fran but she looks hella fabulous in her glasses and non-chic outfits. Plus she’s a total geek (like me) but she’s totally glam at the same time (not so much like me). I want to go to there. Clip

Monday, August 9, 2010

Textin' Bout My Generation

I know this is not new news, but texting while someone is talking to you is so rude. It drives me nutty, seriously. I once got in a fight with someone I was on a date with because he sat there texting someone else practically the entire night. You can call me oversensitive, you can call me old fashioned. But if you're on a date with me, please don't sit there texting someone else, I don't care if it's another girl, your roommate, or a friend from home. Unless it's an emergency (which it wasn't) or unless it has some REALLY great explanation (you're the point man in charge of synching your latest casino heist a la Oceans 11) -- that you RELAY to me while you're texting -- it just flat-out indicates to me that you would rather be doing something else than having a conversation with me, the person you're with right now. Why are you even looking at your phone? Yoohoo, remember me? Yeah, over here. Hey, you! Yeah, look over here! See the person physically sitting across from you? Unless that's a text to ME (ha ha, aren't you clever, texting me sitting across from me!), please put the phone away.

I went out on a date with someone recently and he did not take his phone out THE ENTIRE NIGHT. Seriously, I don't even know what his phone looks like, because I didn't see it. Actually, I've been on a few subsequent dates with him, and guess what? I still don't know what his phone looks like. He literally hasn't looked at it once in my presence. Do you know how refreshing that is? In the world of rattle-y BBMing, Sidekick keyboard texting, iPhone bloop bleep swipey messaging and so much other nonsense, I felt so respected by him because he did not look at his phone. He may have snuck a peek while I was in the bathroom, but if he did, he did it really quickly, because the phone was nowhere to be found when I came out. I was ready to take him home to meet my mother, honest to Beezus.

Texting on dates is bad enough. What about texting AT WORK? Please tell me - WHY do these college-age kids think it's okay to text at work? It drives me insane. Every time I'm trying to give the interns instructions, they sit there texting while I'm talking to them. I'm not exaggerating here. They literally have told me, "hold on a second," so they could finish the word they were texting. Why didn't anyone ever teach these kids that this is not okay? It is seriously one of my pet peeves. You CANNOT be paying attention to me and really absorbing the directions I'm giving you if you are texting your boyfriend while I'm saying it. You just can't. Yes, it irritates me on dates, or when I'm talking to a friend, but nothing irritates me more than Gen-Yers texting at work, seriously. I ended up sending them a Harvard Business Review article about the dangers of multi-tasking and telling them, this means texting while I'm giving you directions too. Passive aggressive? Maybe. But something needed to be done.

I don't understand these Gen-Yers. Most of them are seriously are the most entitled people I've ever come across in my life, and I hate that word. At my internships, I did ANYTHING the company asked me to do, and yes this included brewing coffee, running errands and making copies. Internships are internships, suck it up. But they flat-out refuse to do things! Uh, hey, you're an intern. You'll do what I say you'll do. What the hell?

This goes for the recent college grads we employed at my old company. Some of them I just wanted to smack, I swear. I don't know where they get off thinking that they are entitled to a promotion because they've been at the company a year. Hey there Gossip Girl, it doesn't work that way. You have to work for what you get, just like the rest of us had to. Why don't you focus a little more on DOING YOUR JOB and a little less on applying mascara, and maybe then we can talk about a promotion.

I was talking on Twitter this morning with a few of my friends who are the same age as I am, and they agree with me when I say that I feel like I don't have a generation of my own. I know people who are definitely Gen-X, and I know people who are definitely Gen-Y. As someone in the borderline years, I don't feel like I belong to either of the generations, and it's hard to relate to the "characteristics" of either one. For example, MediaPost published this article today: "Gen Y Traits Come Honestly". I see these traits in the interns at my company, and in other college-age people I know. They are wholly and firmly Gen-Y, in all its Millennial glory. But honestly, I can't relate. I know I'm too young to technically be Gen-X, but I'm also too old to really be a Gen-Y.

My friend Stephon made an interesting point. I was the last class of students in college to not have Facebook. This stuff didn't exist when we were growing up. We aren't like the Millennials, who never knew a day without a cell phone or a relationship without Facebook. We didn't have computers when we were little. We used a card catalog at the library. Our phones had big long twisty cords, and our cell phones once we got them... well, you've seen Saved By The Bell. The defining characteristic of the Millennial generation (Gen-Y) is digital, digital, digital. But where does that leave the borderline years like mine? We are maybe a little more tech-savvy than Gen-X, but way more grounded than Gen-Y. I always feel like I am without a Gen-home. Do you agree?

Friday, July 23, 2010

"Are you going to eat that?"

I'm the worst blogger, I know. I need to start trying to post every day. Today is Chipotle Friday at work, which is always exciting. I'm looking forward to some soft tacos. Yeah, I'm a fattie who gets soft tacos instead of a carb-less "bowl" - why pretend you're eating healthy if you're AT Chipotle, I ask?

I just wanted to mention what it's like to work at an office full of health-conscious people. My boss participates in the Iron Man competition and wakes up at 5am daily to go to the gym. One coworker is a vegetarian (or vegan, I can't remember), used to write a health food blog, and weighs about 1 pound. Another coworker's computer wallpaper is a computer graphic version of herself as she is now (also about 1 pound) and the "ideal" version of herself right next to it, to remind her to not eat basically. Another coworker is also basically not eating so that he looks good for the beach - he's drinking Nutri... something... in place of eating meals, runs the stairs at work in the middle of the day, every day, and rushes home to get to the gym.

Last night we went out for drinks and the discussion not surprisingly wandered over to people working out for 3 hours at the gym. For the life of me I can't remember who did it or is supposed to do it or why we were talking about it - but what I'm saying is, this is around me all the time. Oh, and someone said: "You're getting a BEER? With all those calories?" It was a Corona Light.

It's distressing. I am by no means an unhealthy person, but I get serious anxiety when people are constantly talking about food and working out. I hate it so much. I think it's disrespectful of people who have eating disorders, first of all (you never know if the person you're talking to has one, you know, so it's never a good idea to be constantly talking about food and exercise). And some people just want to enjoy food because life is short or maybe don't want to go in a sweaty gym after work because they're tired and they don't want to be judged for it. Or maybe they were on a diet when they were a little kid and have serious anxiety issues associated with it now. You never know what's going on with people you're around.

It also drives me insane when people comment on what I am eating. Yes, I did get a Veggie Delite 6-inch sub from Subway... ON A SUB ROLL. I know this makes me the most disgusting human being you've ever met. But I guess I can't help that - why should I change what I ordered because an intern might think it's disgusting? It's a VEGGIE sub.

And no, I don't like melted cheese, and it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. I know I'm the most ridiculous person you've ever encountered. But it's like sushi. You are not going to stop my gag reflex when I eat melted cheese. I think I'm allergic to some kind of chemical change that happens when cheese melts. Or maybe my body just really does not like the consistency. Either way, I don't comment on your tofu (another food with a consistency I can't take). So please leave my food selections out of it as well.

Thankfully, my friends in real life are (generally) not concerned with this kind of stuff, with one or two exceptions. They bring doritos and beer over to my apartment and never mention anything about whether what we're all eating at a pub is fattening or how they have to get home to work out. Thank GOD I have friends like this, honestly. Because seriously, if I have to hear one more time about how I should get my Chipotle or my Subway veggie sub as a SALAD (?!), I'm going to punch someone in the face.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Quote of the Day

"The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. That is being educated and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness. The default setting. The rat race. The constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing."
- David Foster Wallace

Monday, June 21, 2010

Quote of the Day & Some Thoughts

"If you seek escape for its own sake and run away from the world only because it is (as it must be) intensely unpleasant, you will not find peace and you will not find solitude." — Thomas Merton

I pilfered the above quote from CMack. It makes me think, as good old Thomas Merton usually does. I wish he'd follow this up with some directions about how to find peace and solitude. Living in NYC, this is sorely lacking in my life, especially with a new job that keeps me busy every minute of every day.

I used to read Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama, they have a lot of suggestions for how to find peace and solitude. But I think Buddhist philosophy assumes you're starting out with a certain calmness that someone so prone to anxiety and distress as I am just flat-out lacks. I'm so super sensitive to everything in the world. Not just getting easily upset at comments other people make, or being super sensitive to other people's issues and problems, but I'm talking about literally everything in life. Thus the diagnosis that I am a HSP (Highly Sensitive Person). I was looking around my bathroom yesterday and laughing - all of my products are the "sensitive" version. Contact solution, toothpaste, shampoo, facewash, hair products, shaving cream, lotion - anything you can think of, I need the sensitive version. In order to go outside in the beautiful summer (hello summer, I'm so glad you're here!), I need to put on several coats of SPF 30 and drag along the bottle of sunscreen plus a baseball cap and a long-sleeved t-shirt just in case. Buddhist calm is a far ways away.

I realize this sounds like a complaint, but it's not. If I wasn't so sensitive, I wouldn't be the person I am, I know that this defines my life. But my question is, how does a hypersensitive person like me not only exist in the world (it's so difficult for me to be in a work environment with the freezing temperature and the loud coworkers... the chewing, good lord the chewing... and the pressure and the criticism), but how do we do that while gaining a sense of peace in the day-to-day? I need to figure this out, because instead I get overwhelmed, and it's not productive.

I know one answer is to not be working in this industry, which is why my future plans include a college classroom and a quiet office of my own, hopefully out of the city somewhere where there's nature and maybe water. But right now, this is where I am. So I need to find my peace. Beatles music gets me far, but not far enough. It's hard not to run away from the world to find it. I need to figure how to be in the midst of this world and find peace. One of my life's great quests.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

No place like home

Blogosphere!! How I've missed you. :) Have you missed me too?

I've been so busy lately with my new job that I've completely neglected Mad Street Cred. Epic fail, I know. I went to the OMMASocial conference today and got re-inspired about social media. Probably ironic, since now I'm working at a social media company. I think there's something about it being my job now that has kept me away. Also the fact that I'm working about 15 hours a day. But hey, I'm here now.

A few things are on my mind:

1. I really don't like when artists use auto tune. Usher was on So You Think You Can Dance tonight. I love love love Usher. But I found myself getting super annoyed with him tonight. And he's actually a good enough singer to sing without that! It ruins everything. Which reminds me... Yeah you know what I'm linking to...

2. I miss playing the piano. I am the "collaborative pianist" for a show my sister and her friend are doing at the Lower East Side Tenement Museum, and it's really fun to play through songs with them and have the songs just... work. My sister's friend told me that when she sings with me playing she feels like she's singing a duet with someone. That's probably the best compliment anyone could ever give a collaborative pianist. :) She also told me I should do it as my job. If only...

3. I am obsessed with Friday Night Lights. I never watched this show until a few weeks ago, when I was surfing around Netflix Instant as it was streaming to my Wii (LOVE), and I randomly picked out FNL to watch. FTW. That show seriously rocks. I know it's only got about one more season in the cards, and that makes me sad. It has quickly become one of my faves. How much do you just love Kyle Chandler? I've loved him ever since Early Edition. :) Ah, the shows of my youth. Anyway, go figure, I don't even like football.

4. Blogging isn't the only thing that has fallen by the wayside thanks to my new job. Here's what else: eating, sleeping, working out, fun, video games, reading, my mac, WoW, surfing the internet for fun, reading blogs, playing the guitar (and piano as stated earlier), going out with friends, dating, cleaning, laundry, listening to the Beatles or any music at all, making myself look presentable, watching TV, watching movies, any kind of extracurricular activities, did I mention sleep? Yeah. FTL.

5. I am going to Niagara Falls next weekend with Amanda. Yay, Maid of the Mist. I love boats. And trips.

This was not what I expected my blog post to be about, I was going to focus on something Very Important. But hey, at least I'm back right? I've missed you all! Time for bed.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Going Postal

Instead of posting a quote or video, I'm going to tell you all a little story. Try to contain your excitement, guys!

My friend Amanda and I recently planned a trip to Niagara Falls at the end of June. She's never been there, and it may or may not be one of the world wonders (have you ever tried to look those up online? Talk about confusing... I guess that makes sense, being "wonders" and all, but you'd think someone could provide a single comprehensive list is all I'm saying, thanks a hell of a lot, Internet), and plus, who doesn't love taking a ride on the Maid of the Mist? So we made the plans, and Amanda so kindly booked the flights and hotel room. I didn't look at the itinerary too carefully until yesterday. Then it dawned on me. We are staying at the Sheraton on the Canada side of the falls. Crap crap crap.

I know what you're thinking, but no, not "crap" because as you well know I consider Canada to be one of the top 5 worst states in the U.S. (second-to-worst, to be exact - no state is worse than Dirty Jerzzz). No, "crap" because apparently I am a completely irresponsible person who HAS NO IDEA WHERE HER PASSPORT IS. You would think that this wouldn't be a huge deal. People lose things all the time. This is America! It can't be that hard to get a new passport, right? WRONG. I don't want to be dramatic here and suggest that my adventures in getting a passport have been all Iliad and Odyssey or anything. It's nothing like that. It's worse. (Whatever, shut it, this has been an epic quest.) I frantically searched my entire apartment for the damn thing and I swear to you, it's nowhere to be found. I've had a queasy feeling about it for several years actually and never ended up finding it when I moved to a new apartment last August, which was not a good sign. But I digress. This is not what the story is really about, so I'll leave it except to say that the little blue book is definitely not here, and clearly someone swiped it from my person in an airport and has obviously been using my identity to pull off elaborate heists a la Catch Me if You Can for the last 5 years.

Passport search being an utter failure, I started doing extensive research online about what to do if you lost your passport. All of the directions are extremely confusing, but to the best of my ability I deciphered the following: you need to fill out 2 forms (a new application and a lost passport form), get 2 passport photos taken, provide a form of identification and proof of citizenship (and according to the directions on the passport application, both of these can be an old passport - luckily I still have my old passport from high school which is expired), and of course a check, and take them to your nearest passport acceptance location. I called the number provided online and found out that that location for me is none other than the Times Square post office, old glory herself (ugh), supposedly on the second floor. It's open 10-3 Monday-Friday, and they will take your passport photo there. Joy.

I meticulously filled out all my paperwork and headed over to the Post Office From Hell in good spirits, ignoring the fact that this is the worst post office I've ever been to in my life and all of my dealings there end in pure frustration with me leaving in a huff, or tears, slamming a door behind me, contemplating taking up smoking, and coming home to drink a six-pack, alone. And surprise surprise, when I got there the winding line reminded me yet again of Disney World if at Disney World everyone was pissed off and dreading being taken for a ride (which indeed they will be).

And guess what? After looking for the "passport department," second floor, post office, wouldn't you know, there was NO SECOND FLOOR OF THE BUILDING. It just didn't exist. Shocker. And there was no place for passport pictures either. Lovely. I was sent out of the post office and down to CVS for my photoshoot. I trudged there and back, grimacing at my ugly 2x2 mugshot, and waited in The Punishment Line yet again. Of course, the "passport department" is one specific person who works there, so after waiting in the entire line, I had to wait in yet another separate extra special line at her window. She *looks through all of my paperwork* (please keep this in mind for later), runs her hand through her nest of hair like she's really aggravated and reprimands me, as only a middle-aged white disgruntled postal worker can. "Wherrrre is your FORM. OF. IDENTIFICATION." I explained that the paperwork indicated the passport counted as both ID and proof of citizenship. Well what a shock, apparently the U.S. government documentation is wrong, I need copies of my driver's license, and no I cannot make them there. She sends me past the people in line, out of the post office and across the street to make copies of my ID, front and back, in a cloud of despair.

Of course I get to the store, make a copy of the front, flip it over, and realize there is a box on the back of my driver's license that asks if you changed your address, leaves space for you to write it in, and stresses that you must notify the DMV within 10 days of your move. Shit. I won't give details for fear that the U.S. government will read my blog, but needless to say, I was hoping I read it wrong and it meant to say "years." Suddenly worried that the government would all at the same time deny my replacement passport, arrest me for not changing my address on my license, and send me to Gitmo for whatever international crimes my doppelganger with my stolen passport has obviously committed within the last 5 years, I paid for the front copy and a sharpie, wrote in my new address, made the back copy, and finally got out of there with a tiny shred of dignity in tact. And walked back to the post office to have it taken away.

Because you would think this would be the end of my saga. You would be wrong. I get back to the post office and back in line. Apparently the passport department is now a different person, so I finally get up to the front of the line and get passed to someone else's special line. Behind a person who is getting a visa - not a quick process. The girl had a lot more paperwork than I did to fill out and was trying to pay the fees by credit card, which is not allowed. And it was taking forever. By the time I got up to the window, the new woman looks through all my paperwork and informs me that MY APPLICATION CANNOT BE DOUBLESIDED. That's right, folks. In an attempt to be environmentally responsible, and with no indication that this was against the rules, I had printed out the application on two sides of one piece of paper. Apparently the U.S. government hates the planet. And me. She made me fill out an entire new application. Whyyyyy the first woman did not mention this to me is completely beyond me. AND then I had to pay THEM $100 for processing. If you ask me, they owe ME at least $100 for all of that nonsense.

I know postal workers hate their jobs, and I'm truly sorry they have to deal with the people who haunt the halls of the Times Square hellhole. But I honestly think the USPS tries to get vengeance by without fail making things way more difficult than they need to be. I swear every time I leave that place the postal workers are all lined up behind me laughing and pointing because they have done this intentionally and with purpose. I do not wish this upon you. And so I tell you this cautionary tale of woe to warn you that if you ever plan to get a new passport, you should a) take an entire day off of work, and b) re-read this post so you know exactly what not to do. Good luck, and good night (because that's how long it will take you, believe me). Oh, and if my passport-stealing doppelganger is reading this, I really hope it was worth it. Punk.

Guess I have to go to the DMV now to change my address. Seriously guys, kill me now.

Monday, April 19, 2010

True Love

"Real love is identifiable by the way it makes us feel. Love should feel good. There is a peaceful quality to an authentic experience of love that penetrates to our core, touching a part of ourselves that has always been there. True love activates this inner being, filling us with warmth and light. An authentic experience of love does not ask us to look a certain way, drive a certain car, or have a certain job. It takes us as we are, no changes required. When people truly love us, their love for us awakens our love for ourselves. They remind us that what we seek outside of ourselves is a mirror image of the lover within. In this way, true love never makes us feel needy or lacking or anxious. Instead, true love empowers us with its implicit message that we are, always have been, and always will be, made of love."
- from today's DailyOM

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Things I don't care about

So as of yesterday I was thinking that I might try to take a break from so much Internet usage. Mostly because I was watching Weeds, and Nancy Botwin mentioned that all of this is desensitizing. Why I am taking advice from a fictional character who is also a drug dealer and a completely irresponsible parent and human being in general, I have no idea. The best I can tell you is that I just really like her. Sorry guys.

But of course that never really played out, as evidenced by the fact that over the last 48 hours I have been posting on my blog and sharing links to Facebook as well as signing up for Foursqaure (it's pretty creepy, right?), finding new blogs to read, catching up on my Google Reader blogs, and reading this article from Penelope Trunk about conflict resolution.

This article brought me to a conclusion -- maybe the reason I am not in a relationship is because I don't give a flying **** about things like paint colors. I love Penelope Trunk, but a recurring fight that she has with her fiance The Farmer is about painting wood versus leaving the wood exposed. And apparently according to the post this is a fight that most couples have. I just can't see myself ever caring about something like that. If The Farmer wants to leave his wood exposed (that's what she said), I really don't see why that's a problem. Who gives a crap?

But then I realized that domestic issues like this are things that people who eventually want to have a family are supposed to care about, right? I guess the color of paint in the place where you live matters to people. Maybe I just have a hard time relating because I've lived in apartments with stark-white walls since my freshman year in college (thanks NYC!). I know I'm a huge pain in the ass about some things (my food idiosyncrasies and my anxiety disorder and my hyper-sensitivity are three things that immediately spring to mind), but I can promise you guys I will never be a pain in the ass about paint colors.

This leads me to my next thought, which is something else I don't give a sh*t about - weddings. I know most people spend most of their lives planning out their weddings, and their dress design, and color schemes, and flowers, and venues, and hideous bridesmaid atrocities, and whatever else. Me? I'm thinking I'll just get married/have a reception wherever my parents want me to since clearly they're the ones all excited about the prospect of weddings and grandbabies and financial independence and government documents and financial independence and mortgages and financial independence. I'll wear just a regular dress - it can be white but it's not going to look like a cupcake from my worst taffeta nightmare or be purchased at a bridal shop, I'm thinking more along the lines of just picking out a cute dress at Anne Taylor Loft or Banana Republic or something, no vail - yuck those are so stupid, and I'll just have my sister as a bridesmaid and she can wear whatever she wants. Everything else, I don't really care, daisies might be nice, but if my future husband (whoever he may be - probably nobody if people read this post) wants chartreuse flowers (that's a color, right?) or bubbles or exposed wood or whateverthehell, I'm down with that, I really don't care.

Believe me, I recognize the fact that this is truly bizarre. But I honestly don't see myself changing my non-opinions about any of this once I (if I ever again) have a boyfriend though. Engagement rings - people care about this stuff. Me, I couldn't care less. Why spend tons of money on a ring? I don't get it. Just pick out whatever one you like. The fact that these normal things that normal people care about just do not make any sense whatsoever to me speaks volumes about the fact that I must be seriously messed up I guess.

Does all this make me less of a girl? It would be one thing if it was just paint colors and floral arrangements, but I also don't like shopping, or buying shoes, or talking about purses. I don't get it. I'm not a tomboy by any stretch of imagination, people would probably call me a "girly girl" with my prairie skirts and baby-t's and sundresses and my pink guitar. But clearly there is something wrong with me.

I guess the upside is that since I haven't been in a serious relationship since I moved to NYC 4 years ago, I don't really need to worry about any of this anyway. (Again, thanks NYC! You're a real f****ing pal.) Since I don't care about paint colors but I'm the only one who has to listen to me not care about it, it doesn't matter anyway, right? But I'm just saying. One would think that in the future I may be in a relationship again, at some point, if I ever move out of this city. I guess I'll just have to find someone who looks past my anxiety disorder and also doesn't mind the fact that I don't care even a tiny inconspicuous amount about these normal things that society tells me I am supposed to care about.

God I'm so emo right now, I should just make an indie movie about my life. Debate about the photo below among yourselves, I'm going to go read.

Gifts for Musicians.

This is my second favorite ever, behind Pan Flute. :)

Quote of the Day

"Like Tim Burton here. Imagine it, Tim. Nobody could rip on you for all the rehash movies you've made lately. There'd never be a TV show that pointed out you haven't had an original thought since Beetlejuice. And you put Johnny Depp and the same crappy music in every film. And if you're that in love with Johnny Depp you should just have sex with him already. A TV show could never say that." (South Park)

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Pics of the day

1) This was posted on NatalieDee under the title:
"Quit calling him ladybug, guys!"

2) This comic on xkcd talks about something I'll always remember from working at a digital agency. Boy the developers always used to get pissed. It's FORWARD-SLASH, not back-slash! They always said: "If you can't bring yourself to say forward-slash, just say slash. IT'S NOT A BACK-SLASH."

Monday, April 12, 2010

"Genuine beauty is always quite alarming."

It's 1:42 a.m. and I can't sleep at all. I realize this could be due to the fact that I drank a huge coffee at like 2pm, or the fact that I was out until 3am last night, went to bed at 4, and got up at noon. But I actually think there's a third, more influential reason. The book I'm currently reading.

I'll spare you the details of the book, but I will tell you the name - The Secret History by Donna Tartt. (The title of this post is a quote from the book.) I just wanted to say that one of the greatest things ever is reading a book that's so captivating that you can't think about much else. I've read some good books within the last couple months (The Lovely Bones, Mystic River, Rabbit Run, The Alchemist, The Abstinence Teacher), but it's been a while since I read something that really engaged my mind and senses enough to disrupt my sleep. Unlike a lot of books, with this one, the more I read, the more awake I am.

I really want to get up early tomorrow, so I'm going to go make some tea and read something boring instead, but I just wanted to mention this because to a bibliophile like myself, this is one of the greatest things in life. I know at least Ben will know what I mean.

Goodnight to all, and I leave you with this week's Sarah Palin impression by Tina Fey:

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Quitting the Paint Factory

This is a terrific essay (thanks Ben!). It's called: Quitting the Paint Factory, by Mark Slouka. (It's from the November 2004 issue of Harper's Magazine.) Talk about something resonating with you. Please enjoy this excerpt:

In one of my favorite anecdotes from American literary history (which my children know by heart, and which in turn bodes poorly for their fu­tures as captains of industry), the writer Sherwood Anderson found himself, at the age of thirty-six, the chief owner and general manager of a paint factory in Elyria, Ohio. Having made something of a reputation for himself as a copywriter in a Chicago advertising agency, he’d moved up a rung. He was on his way, as they say, a businessman in the making, per­haps even a tycoon in embryo. There was only one problem: he couldn’t seem to shake the notion that the work he was doing (writing circulars extolling the virtues of his line of paints) was patently absurd, undignified; that it amounted to a kind of prison sentence. Lacking the rationalizing gene, incapable of numbing himself sufficiently to make the days and the years pass without pain, he suffered and flailed. Eventually he snapped.

It was a scene he would revisit time and again in his memoirs and fic­tion. On November 27, 1912, in the middle of dictating a letter to his secretary (“The goods about which you have inquired are the best of their kind made in the…”), he simply stopped. According to the story, the two supposedly stared at each other for a long time, after which Anderson said: “I have been wading in a long river and my feet are wet,” and walked out. Outside the building he turned east toward Cleveland and kept going. Four days later he was recognized and taken to a hospital suffering from exhaustion.

Anderson claimed afterward that he had encouraged the impression that he might be cracking up in order to facilitate his exit, to make it compre­hensible. “The thought occurred to me that if men thought me a little in­sane they would forgive me if I lit out,” he wrote, and though we will nev­er know for sure if he suffered a nervous breakdown that day or only pretended to one (his biographers have concluded that he did), the point of the anec­dote is elsewhere: Real or imagined, nothing short of madness would do for an excuse.

Anderson himself, of course, was smart enough to recognize the absurdity in all this, and to use it for his own ends; over the years that fol­lowed, he worked his escape from the paint factory into a kind of parable of liberation, an exemplar for the young men of his age. It became the cornerstone of his critique of the emerging business culture: To stay was to suffocate, slowly; to escape was to take a stab at “aliveness.” What America needed, Anderson argued, was a new class of individuals who “at any physical cost to themselves and others” would “agree to quit working, to loaf, to refuse to be hurried or try to get on in the world.”

“To refuse to be hurried or try to get on in the world.” It sounds quite mad. What would we do if we followed that advice? And who would we be? No, better to pull down the blinds, finish that sentence. We’re all in the paint factory now.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Quote of the Day

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long...

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

-Walt Whitman
from "Song of Myself" (1855)

Friday, February 26, 2010

Good News Friday

What the world needs now:

Cutest pillow ever:


Best. Signage. Ever.:


Just flat-out awesome:


Thursday, February 25, 2010

Two Awesome Things

1) Okay so I am terrified of and yet strangely drawn to the use of vitamins/supplements. As a hypochondriac, I always think, is there a vitamin I could be taking that would make me healthier? That would give me less of a chance of getting cancer? That would help my stress levels? That would cure my headaches? But then at the same time I think, would those same vitamins negatively interact with medicine I take? GIVE me cancer? Make me grow an extra arm? It's a crap shoot really. Lately I've been taking a B-complex and a multivitamin. So naturally I am curious whether the B-complex is actually supposed to do anything.

Well lucky for me, one of my favorite sites, Information is Beautiful, has a new interactive infographic today that tells me this very thing. It's a bubble race - the higher a bubble, the greater the evidence there is for its effectiveness in helping the symptoms within the bubble. Check it out here: http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/play/snake-oil-supplements

(Hint: It looks like there are conflicting reports about B vitamins... I might want to change my plan...)

2) This was on Epic Win FTW today. Haha I really really enjoy this for some reason. Epic win indeed.


Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Friday, February 19, 2010

Quote of the Day

Me: "My grandma just sent me a friend request on Facebook."

Anthony: "...Aaaaand Facebook has jumped the shark."

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Monday, February 15, 2010

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Two awesome sites

1) GrooveShark.com: It's like a combination of Pandora and iTunes - you can make playlists of any songs you want and listen to them online. It's free. You will thank me.

2) Superuseless Superpowers (superuseless.blogspot.com): The name really says it all. Example:

SUPERUSELESS SUPERPOWER: Healing PunchFloat like a butterfly and sting like the bedside manner of Mother Teresa. As a superhero, sometimes you have to resort to violence. Too bad your ferocious fists instantly heal the damage you inflict. Whereas most punches would deliver a crushing Ivan Drago-like knockout. Yours leave your opponent feeling amazingly refreshed and rejuvenated. At least until he counters with an uppercut to your esophagus.  

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Quote of the Day

This is today's Note from the Universe, which comes to my inbox daily:

Just as it's true of kissing, Lisa, let your life be measured and thoughtful.

The Universe

PS: Actually, Lisa, your entire life is like one very long, very sweet kiss.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Man up

I have to get something off my chest here. In case you didn't know this, I am not a man, I am a woman. Apparently this makes me unworthy of most of the products sold during the Superbowl.

Many of the Superbowl ads this year make me ashamed to be part of this industry. Granted, Superbowl ads are generally heavy on the testosterone (Go Daddy anyone?), but this year's ads, in my opinion, were the worst, most misogynistic collection of spots I've seen in a while, if not ever. At $3 million dollars a pop, I was thinking these companies would try to broaden their reach to include rather than disclude. Silly me. Must be because I'm a woman.

I'll name but a few.
- Docker's "wear the pants" campaign (you already know I hate this, no need to discuss again)
- the new Dove men's line ("manthem"... need I say more?)
- Chrysler ("I will carry your lip balm, I will watch your vampire TV shows with you, I will put the seat down, I will put my underwear in the basket, and because I do this, I will drive the car I want. Man's. Last. Stand.")
- FloTV (something about the girl removing the guy's spine and making him shop with her)
- Bridgestone (the guy throws his wife out of the car in the pouring rain because he loves his tires more)
- Bud Light (guys at their wives' book club - one exchange was something like "How do you feel about Little Women?" "I'm not too picky" and another was a guy and girl talking about reading and the guy said something like, "I'd like to hear YOU read some words."

And yes, there were more, these were just the standouts.

What the hell? These spots are sending clear messages, including that men are superior to women, women make men weak, in fact women are either nags or sex objects and that's all, being a "man" means something specific rather than having a certain combination of chromosomes and therefore effeminate men (god forbid gay men) are not real men... I could go on and on and on.

I guess the two main things I don't understand are a) the aggressive attitude behind this, and b) why masculinity must be constructed in opposition to (and at the expense of) other groups? This social construction is fascinating and upsetting to me. When there are messages to women about being real women (and let's be honest, that's rare in this male-dominated culture), it's generally about being more comfortable in your own skin compared to other women, not compared to men. (Of course, this is only when marketers are not trying to sell women on beauty products to make them into the ideal woman for their man, but that's beside my point.) Why does this sense of masculinity have to be in opposition to women? To gay men? To men a little less 'roided up than others?

I am thankful that the two guys who were at my Superbowl party are nice guys who were just as offended as I was at these ads (if not more). But a plea to all the marketers out there reading this. Please stop. It's 2010. And I am not amused.

PS: Time Magazine agrees with me - "Wow, Super Bowl ad men really hate Super Bowl ad women this year, don't they?" Uh, clearly.

Male Inequality

Friday, February 5, 2010

Quote of the Day

"I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?" - John Lennon

Monday, February 1, 2010

**IMPORTANT** : Special Viewer Poll

Okay, there's something I need to address right now. I was going to do this on Facebook but decided against it since what I really want to say may be perceived as rude and therefore shouldn't be said in front of my clients. So I'm going to say it here. What else is a blog for?

In case you haven't picked up on this, it's "Doppelganger Week" on Facebook. Basically what The Book is telling you to do is to replace your profile picture with a picture of a celebrity who you look like.

I'm sure you know what I'm going to say next. I mean, come on people. Let me spell it out for good measure.

You. Do. Not. Look. Like. Audrey. Hepburn.

You really, really don't. I don't understand what would prompt people to do this, honestly. How embarrassing for you that you think you look like Audrey Hepburn. Anne Hathaway. Julia Roberts. Tina Fey. I mean, have a little self-respect people. I'm honestly not trying to be mean when I say this, although I know it is mean. But let's be realistic - if you looked like a celebrity, you would probably be a celebrity. At the very least, we would not be friends.

Who would I even change my picture to? Who would you? I cannot think of ONE celebrity who I even mildly resemble, except possibly Keri Russell's HAIR. And yes, I'm saying that the entirety of me from the front basically looks like her hair from the back. That's absolutely all about her that even vaguely resembles me.

Don't get me wrong, I think I'm cute enough. This is not me being down on myself. This is me pointing out the obvious. I don't look like a celebrity, and neither do you. Get over yourself.

And so in honor of this RIDICULOUS week, I've narrowed down my doppelganger to four choices. Take your pick.





Friday, January 29, 2010

Two awesome things

1) This article by Mark Morford: "Why are you so terribly disappointing?"

"Big f--ing deal. We just do not care. It's all a big disappointment. Hey, I was expecting to be blown away. I was expecting miracles and transformations and multiple twitching orgasms on sight. Do not come at me with tantalizing promises only to reveal that you can fulfill most of them to a fairly good degree, and not far exceed all of them in every imaginable way. We're Americans, goddammit. Ye shall know us by the tang of our bitter and untenable jadedness. 

Also, global warming? Total effing letdown. Americans are no longer believing in it. Do you know why? Not because the mountains of scientific proof aren't there. Not because it's not happening. But because it's not yet happening to us like they said it would in the movies and those worst-case scenario books. Where are the zombies? The ice forests? Where's the tidal wave crashing over the Himalayas? I want my goddamn apocalypse, and I want it now."

2) This list: "If Movie Posters Told the Truth" - my favorite is the Titanic poster:

Good News Friday

The lost Ninja Turtles:

(via ZanyPickle)

Monday, January 25, 2010

Rollup of Awesomeness

1) Today's Epic Win from when we were kids (uh, hell yes!):

2) Mental Floss Blog asks... is the adverb dead? ("Subway! EAT FRESH!" ... ly...)

3) I want these nerdy nerdy things featured on BoingBoing today:


ASCII love:

4) This parody is hilarious, especially if you are a Farmville quitter like me. ("Tired of games that are fun?"):