Friday, June 28, 2002

So they're renaming Hoboken's post office for Frank Sinatra. This is funny considering the man supposedly never liked living there, and only since the yuppie influx has everything been "let's honor Sinatra"-happy.

Thursday, June 27, 2002

You know what I hate most about this Pledge of Allegiance ruling? That it's going to turn into this politically correct tug of war. I'm all for saying the Pledge, though I'm not sure the Under God part is necessary, especially when it was added in the 1950s as an afterthought because the country was communist crazy back then. That said, I do believe in God, and think the Pledge's God referrs to all faiths. So I was highly angered when I saw Mr. Newdow on the Today Show. He was asked about the death threats made against him, and instead of calling these people ignorant assholes (or something nicer for television), he mockingly says 'I guess they have God on their side'. Now, I can understand his point of view about the Pledge since he's an Atheist, but how does he expect people to listen to him if he's going to act all high and mighty and trash anyone who's 'stupid' enough to believe? Why did he have to generalize like that? He's a very educated man, and that scares me even more. He should at least know the whole 'To each his own' thing and that not all people who believe in God are going to call his house and give him death threats.

And let me just say that the Republicans reciting the Pledge on the steps of the Capitol is nice in theory, but it made our House of Representatives look divided over this issue. Here we go again, Rich Bible Thumping Republicans versus the Way Too Politically Correct Democrats. Am I the only one who thinks our political parties have gotten too much about "I'm right and you're wrong and I'll side with this person even if I don't agree with them because we share a political party?" Ugh.

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

One of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure of coming in contact with passed away on Sunday. Dominick Cerrato and his wife Mary own the Christmas tree farm where my parents and I have gone every year since I was five to cut down (yes, you saw it down yourself) a tree in December. They were always happy to see familiar customers (after 19 years, they knew us pretty well), and after they'd take a Polaroid of the family and their new tree, they'd help you tie it to your car, always joking and smiling while doing so, giving tips on how to take care of it. He and Mary always offered a 'see you next year!' when pulling away and then would give a hearty greeting to the next family who pulled in to find a tree. This wasn't someone we would see all the time, only on the day we'd get our tree, but he was such an integral part of our life. It's rare that you find people that genuinely happy, friendly and just so full of enthusiasm for their customers. He's going to be sorely missed by anyone who had the joy of knowing him even the slightest bit.

Monday, June 24, 2002

God Bless my fellow Jerseyites! Finally, an anti-BENNIE/WEB site!

Friday, June 21, 2002

I wish I had the nerve to stick up for myself in the office, but I know it would come out very angry and I'd get myself fired. I'm sick of the BS I have to put up with. Like when we get yelled at for a mispelling (which *this time* was my fault, I admit), but the reason being that we get assualted with a shitload stuff that we are supposed to rush through (you try reading 3 stories, correcting pages and solving everyone's problems in 10 minutes and having people call you about how long it's going to take. I'm not kidding.), while at other moments we have absolutely nothing to do. There is no happy medium, but I don't think they realize this. Most people here are treated like idiots anyway, my department being one of them, and I have no idea how it got this way. Every few months or so, it feels like the office needs to let off steam, so they blame my department for everything and we deal with it. Or we'll get blamed for something that isn't even our fault, be made to feel like shit, and then when it's found out that we had nothing to do with the problem, there is no apology. This is a direct result of having a higher-up who comes down on everyone and unecessarily hard, then the one who is blamed by her feels like they need to blame someone for something else and so on. I feel bad for them in this respect. But I sure as hell hate having the finger pointed in my direction because people think I'm a siv and won't know the difference and will keep my mouth shut. Ugh.
If anyone wants a good laugh, make sure you catch a rerun of MTV True Life's I'm Going to Prom. (it'll be on Sunday at 10 a.m.) You will be transported back to high school where pettiness, self-centeredness and horomones rule the day. But there are some endearing students (like the sweet guy who asks his crush to the prom, only for it to not live up to expectations or the girl who asks a guy to the prom and ends up driving him, rather than vice versa) who make it worth the watching, and the bitchiness is quite fun, too!
I love how everyone is now a soccer authority. I just had a co-worker come in, all excited about the US/Germany match and acting like his life depends upon the US winning and that he knows oh so much about the subject. He then asks me how long a soccer game lasts. Um, hello? Anyway, after I told him (and I don't know it just because I was a college sports editor, but because I made an effort to understand soccer, unlike half the men in this country who write it off as a sissy sport, then get all into it when big stuff happens. Anyway.), I later heard someone ask "How long does a game go?" and he replies like he's known it all along. Oh please.

Thursday, June 20, 2002

So I was just reading reviews on barnesandnoble.com for Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a Smartmouth Goddess, a book that takes a very funny look at being female and dealing with stuff and I decided to take a look into readers' other recommendations. Well, I'm flabbergasted at the books that are out there today, basically there to tell women how to "catch a man." Um, dating/engagement/marriage isn't like figuring out how to change the oil in your car or how to pass the SATs, yet there are tons of sneaky/money grubbing authors out there ready to tell women how to "win their prize." Oh please. Take this example from
Stop Getting Dumped!: All You Need To Know To Make Men Fall Madly In Love With You and Marry 'The One' In 3 Years or Less
(the title alone makes me worry):
 

You'll never meet Prince Charming (or Prince William) unless you're ready to go to the ball.

"...Make sure your clothes are flattering.  Don’t get caught up in trends unless they look utterly fabulous on you.  Don’t worry, if the hot trend isn’t right for you, there will be another one coming along any minute.  (Hey, kind of like men.)

Always dress as though you might meet “the guy” no matter where you’re going.  No, I’m not saying you should be sleeping, eating and pumping gas in a miniskirt and strappy sandals.  Just be sure that no matter where you go, or what you’re doing, you always look your best.  Figure out the most flattering colors and styles for your coloring and body type, and wear them every day.  If you’re not sure, ask a couple of close girlfriends to be brutal with your duds, and pick their three favorite and most-hated of your outfits.  If you keep hearing the same thing over and over (Sure those pants are nice, if you’re going for a truck-stop mechanic look…) you can assume it’s probably true.  Look for patterns in their likes and dislikes.  Does everybody love you in green?  Wear more green!  Keep hearing gray makes your complexion look like canned meat?  Cut it out of your wardrobe, or at least don’t wear it close to your face.  Pay attention to what you’re wearing on the days you receive the most compliments.  Figure out what’s causing the big stir, and whatever it is, color or style or both, wear more of it. 

Refresh your lipstick throughout the day.  Run a brush through your hair before you hit the street.  Check your shoes for toilet paper before you leave a public restroom.  (This is good advice for life, not just when you’re looking to meet the man of your dreams.) Be prepared.  That way, if you do end up meeting Mr. Right while you’re out walking the dog, you won’t have to strategically veil your face with your hand because you’ve got that little fu-man-chu thing growing on your chin.

Here’s where it gets really good.  The dream girls know it is terribly important to indulge in some little treat for yourself at least once a week.  Get a body scrub, or a massage.  Have your nails done or get the muck steamed out of your pores.  Try the entire menu of girlie delights until you find what makes you feel the most beautiful and relaxed, and then do it over and over again like some kind of supermodel opiate.  Aside from making your outside more beautiful, your soul will reap the benefits as well.  There is nothing more important and soothing than caring for yourself as a standard of your life.

AUGH! And they wonder why there are so many divorces and unhappy people in this country! Women need to realize that there is so much more to relationships than this superficial crap. Hollis and I have had the discussion MANY times about how girls our age don't seem to think past the wedding reception, and now they're not even thinking past meeting the guy! If you have to force your romance to happen, you shouldn't be looking to fall in love because it's obvious your obsessing about it and that's not healthy at all. Sheesh!

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

I am witnessing/feeling how daytime television can drive someone mad. And it's not the soaps themselves that are responsible for this madness -- it's the commercials. For instance, Chef Boyardee's "We're Having Ravioli" (on about 36 times in an hour) has inspired a Pavlovian response in Yankee/Tino/Robin lover Tonya. She automatically grabs the remote and hits mute with a loud groan every time it appears. She swears it will land her in a padded cell someday. I am having the same response with the "Momma's Got the Magic of Clorox". I'm not sure if it's the aggitation of knowing they're just recycling the old Clorox 2 ad from years and years ago, the question of 'what the hell does Dad have the magic of if wifey poo is doing all the laundry?' or the fact that the commercial is on about 632.7 times during the soap viewing day.

I like New York in June. How about you?

Monday, June 17, 2002

Right now I am:
Listening to: Synchronicity II, the Police (we got new iMacs in the office, complete with all these awesome radio stations and I haven't been this excited about technology in a long time)
Thinking about: Outline for newest story idea
Freaked out by: Dirty old, desperate, stalker men masquerading as young, decent guys
Reading: the Ultimate Soap Fan Guide by Soap Digest (Fear not, Dexter and Vicki, I will save you a copy) for work and Jemima J. for pleasure
Excited about: the possibility of moving by Sept. 1.
Physically feeling: hungry
Emotionally feeling: hopeful


Sunday, June 16, 2002

I don''t know what it is about the song 'Just Got Paid', but it always puts me in a good mood, no matter how crappy of a mood I'm in. And I've been in a mother of a mood after this lousy week, which just promises to get even more emotionally trying when Hollis, one of my bestus friends, moves to Pa. for grad school. And since I've never had a good friend move away before (college doesn't count), it's kind of sad. But I know we'll always be friends and Hollis is getting a great education and I love visiting college towns anyway, so it's all good I guess.

I did get a few very good laughs today when I saw 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding', which was one of the most entertaining flicks I've seen in a long time. It reminded me A LOT of Astoria, it having the biggest Greek population after Athens, afterall, and it was the most I've laughed at a movie in a LONG time, which tells you the state of movies these days. I'd recommend it to anyone!

PS -- I fucking hate instant messenger.

Friday, June 14, 2002

It must be a cold day in hell -- my train was delayed like 10 minutes this morning and actually got to Penn Station EARLY. Can the apocalypse be far behind?

It's Hollis' last day at McGraw-Hill and almost Tonya's (Yankee/Tino/Robin lover) 5th anniversary at the magazine. Both deserve a big pat on the back and a tall drink for everything they've had to put up with!

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

So a woman wanting to hyphenate her last name when she's married is reason to dump her for some men???? Excuse me, but just because she doesn't want to lose her identity completely doesn't mean she doesn't love you. How would you feel if something came addressed to you: Mr. and Mrs. Karen Bischer? Yeah, it sucks. Where is your name in all of this? I've been a Bischer my whole life and there is no way I'm dropping it because some sexist pig has ego problems. That to me shows insecurity, and why the hell would I want to be with a neanderthal like that? There is really no point in having to take the man's name completely -- he doesn't speak, vote or own land for me anymore. It's not a slap in the face to him, but rather a compliment -- you want to add his name to yours, to show a PARTNERSHIP, not OWNERSHIP.
So I managed to see the last two hours of AFI's 100 greatest romantic movies ever and I'm not sure what I think. I didn't have anything against any of the top 3, as I have a sentimental attachment to them. I was happy to see that The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (73), Sense and Sensibility ( 70) and the Princess Bride (88) made it on the list, and even a few other guilty pleasures that are kind of cheezy romantic, but good (Grease, Dirty Dancing) but there are some I just don't get. Splendor in the Grass (47)???? A great movie, but it's about the romance failing and how Natalie Wood ends up the better for it; Beauty and the Beast (34) over Lady and the Tramp (95)??? Singin' in the Rain (16) I can see, but all they seemed to focus on the dancing from the famous rainy scene, not mentioning that Gene Kelly's character is doing this bc he realizes how in love he is. I think this is one of the best scenes of "love" myself, but you'd never know he was even involved with someone the way it was presented. Witness (82) ??? Sure, there's one really hot scene, but the romance is like 25 percent of the movie. And don't even get me started about the American President (75). I know, that's an all-out romantic movie, but I never understood what was so great about it.

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

Marcus Thames is going to be my new favorite Yankee. Not only does he come from a humble background (his mom is an invalid), he's only 2 months younger than me and seems like a great guy, his first-hit homer off of Randy Johnson notwithstanding. Des and I took to calling him Little Bernie because he seems a bit like the cow-eyed centerfielder. I'm hoping he's just not a youthful fluke that gets sent back down in a few weeks. It would be great to have a kid make a big impression because then the team would almost be made up heavily of home-grown prospects who do big things (Jeter, Soriano, Posada, Bernie, Spencer, Pettitte, Rivera et al) and not "bought" like so many people like to say.
Did you ever want something A LOT and have no idea of how to go about getting it? Yeah, me too.

It's finally hot outside. You'd never know it in my meat-locker of an office.

Monday, June 10, 2002

Party photos. And I'm bored out of my mind. Anyone else bored, give me a call.
I am stuck home sick today on this beautiful day. But that's what I get for not treating my body well this weekend -- actually having to call in for really being sick instead of playing hooky. Anywho, it will give me time to download photos from the party. I have to learn to stop taking such huge pics bc they look kind of pixilated when made smaller. Whatever. I'm going to get some OJ.

Sunday, June 09, 2002

Well, I don't know about everyone else, but I had a slammin' time at my soiree:

1:39 p.m. -- Hollis and Damir arrive on a 1-minute-early NJ Transit train (I'll be damned --"NJ Transit" and "early" very rarely fit into a sentence together) and I whisk them off to my house for some BBQ and horse-racing action.

1:58 p.m. -- Hollis and I entertain ourselves with the squirrel family toys I ordered on e-Bay. The Chicken mingles with Damir.

3p.m. -- It's chilly on the deck. Amy and Colm arrive as Hollis, Damir and I are trying to warm ourselves in the sunshine.

4 p.m. -- Laura arrives with a fresh case of Mike's Hard Lemonade (the drink of choice) and is followed minutes later by Dexter, Vicki and Kurt. Time to start cooking.

4:03 p.m. -- I realize I'm terrible at barbecuing. My dad very curteously takes over.

5 p.m. -- Everyone draws a Belmont horse's name to win a special prize. The names are on pieces of paper I decorated at work the previous day, using my entire highlighter collection, my office stationary and the copy machine. It was a slow day at the office, what can I say?

6 p.m. -- The race is getting ready to begin. We all marvel at War Emblem's (Vicki's horse) 6-5 odds. Colm notes, laughingly, to Amy that her horse Sarava, has 75-1 odds.

6:15 p.m. -- Sarava wins the Belmont Stakes, paying 142 bucks for a 2-dollar bet. Amy wins her own little horse and barn. She and Colm must bid adieu, though, to go to their last bowling match.

7:38 p.m.-- Des arrives as we're starting on some dessert. Dexter mentions going to the beach.

8:35 p.m. -- After I drop off Hollis and Damir at the train station and Laura returns home to "put some clothes on", Dexter, Vicki, Kurt, Des and I head out to Sandy Hook, which is not only deserted, but freezing. But there is something quite freeing about being able to run around in the ice-cold surf with a Yankee Blanket (Dexter), scream all the songs on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack (Des and Me) and accidentally kick your friend in his vitals (Vicki to Kurt) and have no one around to hear you laughing maniacally.

10:06 p.m. -- Vicki, Kurt and Dexter marvel again at the gargantuan houses on Navesink River Road. Des and I wonder when the rich will decide to sell their estates at cheap prices to nice people like us.

10:15 p.m. -- We're back at my house, and soon we're enjoying more dessert and discussing a wide variety of topics, from sex to racism. It is like all the MTV specials and the Breakfast Club (minus the crying and pot-smoking, and whole detention thing) rolled into one conversation in my dining room.

2:45 a.m. -- We finally call it a night, and as I'm driving Des back home (where I don't nearly run over a fox) she marvels at the night's heavy conversations. I say it's because Dexter and Vicki's presence is like watching PBS -- no matter what is talked about, you always come away feeling informed and fulfilled.

4 a.m. -- I finally go to bed.

Tuesday, June 04, 2002

OK, time to play Who's the Bigger Hypocrite?!!!
This has to do with the town of Manasquan banning smoking in certain areas of beaches. While this is all well and good for some people (those who ride their bike to the beach, deposit trash correctly and wear sunscreen), I have a bone to pick with others.
--The town committee who passed this: You are big freaking hypocrites because you will probably do anything in your power to get out-of-area tourists to come to the lovely Manasquan beaches and spend money in the area. Why is this hypocritical? Well, case in point -- my dad and I are on the boat Saturday, going under the bridge linking Manasquan and Point Pleasant, when all of a sudden, a nice plastic cup comes flying out of a car and into the Manasqauan River. My response was "Asshole!", My dad, "Thanks, WEBS!". My point is, these tourists not only pollute the air with their cars that sit in miles of traffic, but they pollute in other ignorant ways, too. But you won't bother them because you want them to increase the cash flow of the area.

--The people who actually go to the beach: You are big freaking hypocrites if you support this because what are you doing while sitting in the sun, slathered in suntain oil, but inviting skin cancer? Don't complain to me about someone's cigarrette smoke giving you emphezema, while you slop on the Coppertone to bake for 5 hours while yacking on your brain-tumor inducing cell phone (also a public nuisance).

Just to note, I am a non-smoker who does drive to the beach and only uses sunscreen on my face, where I burn. I'm patting myself on the back because you won't hear me complaining about people smoking on beaches because -- I'M NOT A BIG FREAKING HYPOCRITE LIKE YOU!

Monday, June 03, 2002

OK, let me rip apart 'The Hamptons'. If I EVER become like any of the obnoxious freaks that inhabit that place...We've got the bratty Hilton daughters who are agog at the fact that 30 people would cram into a 10 bedroom mansion for the summer. While this is a notion that makes one shake their head, anyone who is the heir of one of the nation's biggest hotel chains has NO right to wonder why 'poor' people would do such a thing. Then we've got the lawyer who would rather die than be single at 30 and seems to think her father should pay for her wedding, should she hook some sucker for a husband. And there's the slicked-back jerk who insists on using his cellphone while out to dinner, just because he has no time the next day (too busy socializing) to wish his dad a happy Father's Day. And don't even get me started on the young wealthy guys who don't seem to have gotten over college…

In a word, these people are nauseating, and having just finished "The Nanny Diaries", and dealing with my own town getting invaded by wealthy tourists, I have plain disgust for the privileged. Or at least the ones who feel that their money makes them more worthy than others. Poop on them.

And the Nets have made it to the finals despite what some NY sportscasters called "The Mystique of the (brand-spanking new, no-history) Fleet Center." Before you know it, it won't be the actual Lakers they're playing, but "The Evil Eye of Jack Nicholson" or "The Hot Southern California Sun."