Friday, January 31, 2003

To all my editorial friends, Happy St. John Bosco Day!

I went to the Rangers game with my cousin last night, and holy hell did we have good seats. Center ice, about 10 rows up in the purple seats, courtesy of my cousin's wife's employer, Chase Bank. Kenny Albert walked by and my cousin said hello to him, just like he did to Marv Albert a few years ago during a Knicks game in the same seats (Gotta love Chase!). Unfortunately, I'm not a Rangers fan, but I did my best to take it in and appreciate it because I do like hockey and I know there were people who would've killed for those seats.

Thursday, January 30, 2003

Doctors in NJ are going to have a work slow-down next week to protest the cost of malpractice insurance. I do and don't understand their dilemma. Maybe in the 1980s people weren't so sue happy, but my mom couldn't sue her foot doctor for anything because no other doctor would testify against him. She now has to live with her pinky toe basically riding on top of her second-to-last toe because of a huge mistake her doctor made during surgery. She probably could've won a lawsuit of some kind now.

But I guess nowadays greedy ass people sue over a hangnail and that makes doctors have to pay more to keep their businesses afloat. I would sympathize more if the doctors weren't making so much money, and the idea of closing down their offices to people who need help is a bit much, too. The emergency rooms will still be open, but what good will that do if they're crowded? People can't doctor themselves, and that's why we pay doctors the big bucks. They shouldn't be allowed to do this, plain and simple.
We've dubbed Trista, who most of us liked at the beginning, a snob. She's obviously never lived in NY and paid a huge sum of money for a studio apartment, and therefore should keep her judgements to herself.

Oh, and my roommates and I have dubbed our boy Ryan "The Eye of the Tiger", and blasted his theme song last night, along with a "Like a Virgin" tribute to Keith from American Idol. I'm sure our neighbors love us. But then again their cigarette smoke came pouring through our vents Saturday night, and Carolyn had just had an asthma attack that morning, so I'm not feeling too much sympathy for a slight noise violation.

Wednesday, January 29, 2003

God, I am so sick of Democrats and Republicans. Can't they just get along and try to run this country efficiently instead of constantly pointing out what the other party does wrong? It's like living in NY during the Subway Series and all the Met fans and Yankee fans bash each other instead of focusing on what their own team is doing. And in that case, a whole country isn't at stake. And since I'm of no political party and my taxes are going to pay everyone's salary, I'd like to see them start earning that money by working together instead of sparring. Shut up and work.

Does anyone understand the point of two-way radios? If you're so lazy that you can't wait for the phone to ring and the person you're calling to pick up, you've got problems. I really hate hearing one side of and obnoxious conversation with cell phones, but two sides with the radios is even worse.

Tuesday, January 28, 2003

I just realized there is a huge double standard when trying to woo someone with a poem: Mojo read one she wrote for Evan on last night's Joe Millionaire and she was labled a psycho (though the puzzle of herself and scrapbook might've helped) and Ryan does it every week for Trista on The Bachelorette and it's deemed sweet. And I'm just as guilty because I found myself thinking this way too. Maybe it depends what type of person is doing this -- Mojo was kind of annoying so that didn' help, but if Zora had tried to be Wordsworth it might have gone over better. Ryan is a cutie pie and his poems aren't that great but it's a nice sentiment. If it were psycho Russ writing the poem, then it wouldn't be so cool. But still, writing something for someone else does come from a place deep inside (some deeper than others) and to reject someone just on the basis of putting their feelings on paper is a bit sad, for men and women.
SONGS STUCK IN MY HEAD: You're the Only Woman, by Ambrosia and Never Gonna Let You Go by Sergio Mendez (kickin' it old school in a very Lite FM sort of way)

THOUGHT GOING THROUGH MY HEAD: Some men really must like high maintenance women because all the brides of Bridezillas last night were demanding as hell and their beloveds were still willing to marry them. What's the draw here, fellas?

CRAVING: a Friendly's chocolate Fribble and chicken fingers


OBNOXIOUS YUPPIES ON THE PATH TODAY: 3 -- It's one thing to have a great college experience, but people, the rest of the train doesn't need to hear about it. Especially when you are loud and have an obnoxious laugh. But I have a theory that Hoboken is the holding cell between college and adulthood, so I shouldn't really be surprised.

Oh, and that reminds me of my dad's directions to Hoboken. I once said his hometown has turned into a mecca for Lost Boys (those unwilling to grow up, not Corey Haim/Feldman vampires). So my dad says if anyone asks how to get to Ho, tell them "Second star to the right and straight on till morning." I wonder if anyone would get that...

Monday, January 27, 2003

So ABC Sports would have us believe that Rich Gannon was drafted out of high school. There was no mention of his college experience at all during a Gannon profile in the pre-game show. This wouldn't bother me except that if he'd gone to a big name football school and done as well as he did at Delaware, we would've heard all about it. But then they were using the whole "let's paint the underdog portrait with the Buccaneers", so Gannon couldn't look like he came from obscurity.

The game sucked. I haven't watched that boring of a Super Bowl in a long time. And with the exception of the Budweiser Clydesdale commercial and maybe Willy Nelson, the commercials sucked big time, too. The highlight of the game came when the the players introduced themselves and Gannon said he went to Delaware and the four UD Alums in the apartment added a "Woo-Hoo!". That was the last time we got excited about anything. Except maybe when we all got upset that Sting was singing "Message in a Bottle" minus the Police and that just seems wrong.

Now, let's talk about women sports fans. I've been a big opponent of men who don't think gals can "get" sports, but I've recently witnessed some women out there who claim to be sports fans and know NOTHING about the game they profess to love so much. This makes the rest of us legit X-chromosome sports fans look bad. It's like they're saying it to look good in front of the guys, acting like they're the first one of the bra-wearing set to find a sport cool, not realizing that there's another girl in the group (me when it comes to baseball) who knows more than they ever will about their "favorite team". And I never let these ladies get away with it because a front runner is a front runner. I know many big time sports fans who are women (Vicki and Amy K. for basketball, Tonya with the Yanks) and they seriously know what they're talking about. These other women who act like baseball/football/basketball/hockey is a new Kate Spade bag they have to own (and will throw away when the label falls off) give us a bad name.

Friday, January 24, 2003

Back by popular demand, Dear Chicken

Thursday, January 23, 2003

Just what downtown NY needs...a big penis.

The only good thing about this way too cold weather is that when it's in the 30s and 40s, it will feel like we're on the equator compared to what we've got now.

Tuesday, January 21, 2003

Why, oh, why was Kangaroo Jack the box office winner this week? And after seeing The Pianist and Chicago this weekend (both excellent films in completely different ways), I really wonder why the top three movies are the dumbest looking films to come out in a long time. I'm not really a movie snob -- to each his own. But in a time where so many people complain that no good movies ever come out, you have to think that studios know these same people will line up for the stupid crap they claim they loathe so much. It's a vicious cycle, I tell you.

Go Gannon! A win for the Raiders is a win for the Blue Hens. I'll definitely be wearing something Delaware-fied while watching the Super Bowl this weekend...

Friday, January 17, 2003

Let me muse about baseball a bit:
1) El Duque -- I am sad to see him go, but he was pretty eratic the past few seasons. I will never forget his performance in Game 4 of the 1998 ALCS against Cleveland. The Yanks were down 2 games to 1 and the Indians seemed to think they could make an upset out of things (especially after the Knoblauch incident). Orlando came in on that Saturday night and shut the Indians down and the rest is history. I remember sitting in my roommate's recliner in our college apartment, not moving the whole game, thinking it might help El Duque out a bit. I don't think I'm half as crazy now, but I still have my moments...

2) The All Star Game: Does the sport really need another gimmick? It's the All Star Game, for crying out loud -- it's supposed to be a lazy, fun night. I'm not one of those people who think it should turn into this slide-with-yer-spikes-up, use-the-pitchers-5-plus-innings, make-it-count sort of deal. It's nice to see the players not take themselves so seriously for one night a season. I also like the idea of the World Series rotating with the homefield advantage, as a team might make the Series two or more years in a row, yet they don't get the "important" games in front of their home crowd every year. I'm probably in the minority, though.

3)Opening Day: Is there something wrong with the United States, the country that birthed baseball, that the game can't have it's first official game of the season on American soil? Don't get me wrong, it's cool to have games played in other countries and actually count, but it's Opening freaking Day. It's like celebrating Christmas in July or something. It just bothers me.

4) 25 Days Till Pitchers and Catchers -- and it can't come soon enough!

Thursday, January 16, 2003

I had an epiphany about my romantic ideals last night while discussing the downturn of Stephen Baldwin's career with Dexter and Vicki -- My idea of the perfect guy, since the age of 12, has been Knox Overstreet. Yes, Josh Charles as the hopeless romantic boarding school kid, willing to get beat up by a no-neck jock for love in Dead Poets Society. I'm still searching for Knox Overstreet. Except for the whole stalker-like thing, that is. This also made me remember that when I saw School Ties, I didn't have a thing for Matt Damon's smarmy rich kid or Brendan Fraser's football player , no it was Chris O'Donnell in plaid flannel pajamas that did it for me. So from 12-15 I had a thing for the movie prep school nice guy in a supporting role, and damn if I still don't find them adorable today.

Wednesday, January 15, 2003

On June 21, I will be the one fighting the kids at the bookstores for my copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Actually, I'm older and smarter with my money now and will probably buy it at Sam's Club, and fight the kids there instead...

I had a dream that Dexter and Vicki bought the Nets last night. It was the coolest thing, too, because they got me an in with the Yankees and for some reason, I never had to work again. D&V, you're the best friends a girl could have!

Tuesday, January 14, 2003

Why did I just look up cruises on Expedia? Why did I have to see some really great prices to the Caribbean for the end of February? Ugh.
I think it's time I had a vacation. I haven't been away since the cruise and the cold is starting to get to me and I have three weeks' vacation time to burn through. Where to go? Who to go with? Considering a slew of my friends are taking trips to Florida within the next two months (with other friends, boyfriends or with relatives), and after the cruise I swore I wanted to go on my next trip with a few people (because it just seemed like it would be more fun that way), I probably won't be going anywhere for a while...

Monday, January 13, 2003

So, my neighbors are LOUD. Friday night, they decided to have everyone they knew (or at least everyone they'd just met at the bar) over at 2 a.m. for a par-tay. Now, this wouldn't have bothered me so much if 1) they played their music just a tad-lower than concert level (and right above my bedroom-area of the apartment) and 2) if it didn't end at 5 a.m. I literally pounded on the ceiling, with my fist and with a broom and screamed "TURN IT DOWN!" 3 or 4 times but to no avail. And since I've only met one of the tenants (who's actually very nice), I didn't want my first meeting with the others to be me beating down their door, looking like a crazy woman, demanding they put J. Lo down to a decent level. I didn't even call the cops like my roommate's friend suggested (Des didn't sleep either, and this tells you something because she can sleep through fire alarms). No, I got even.

I'm not sure if it worked, but when I got out of bed at 9:15, I went into Carolyn's room (she was away, thankfully, because the stereo of mass destruction was right above her room), Bruce Springsteen in tow. I put up her stereo to the highest level I could make it without waking Des and blared "Born To Run" just enough to make the walls shake, and hopefully enough to give someone with a hangover an even bigger headache. Then, I put my radio on, and put Carolyn's radio on the same station -- the classic rock station. They must've read my mind at 104.3, because they played some very loud in your face stuff (The Who's My Generation came on and I could've kissed the DJ) with long, loud guitar riffs and lots of heavy bass. I left that on for about an hour and debated blow-drying my hair on the highest setting in Carolyn's room, but decided that would just be obnoxious.

Don't fuck with me and my sleep, people, especially when common courtesy is to tell your neighbor's that you're partying and that if it gets loud to let them know (this worked well in college, amazingly enough). I can deal with regular level partying, but when Michelle freaking Branch wakes me up at 4 a.m., I'm not going to be happy. I so can't wait to have the karaoke party....

Friday, January 10, 2003

I love when the people who have the 10-6 shift get all pissy when the people who come in at 9 leave at 5. Dudes, you came in an HOUR LATER than these people. Work gets done when you aren't here in that hour, just as it gets done when the 9-5ers leave. It all adds up to 8 hours in the end. And the last time I checked, none of us are getting paid overtime, so if people want to leave exactly at 5, don't give them any shit for it. Especially when the chances of a 10-6er working overtime are slim, too.
Today's topic is butterflies. No, not the ones that fly around and nothing to do with Mariah Carey. I'm talking about that feeling in your stomach that lets you know you're in love. Because I think it's a load of crap.

In the past few months, on TV (Sex and the City, Joe Millionaire) and in my own life, I hear women AND men saying how a relationship is nothing without that fluttery feeling in your stomach. Maybe it's just me, because when I get butterflies, it means I'm nervous and I don't think my soul mate would make me nervous. I get butterflies during the playoffs and someone's about to score on the Yankees; I get butterflies when I'm about to go on an interview; I get butterflies when I'm going to call a guy I like that I don't know very well; In all of these instances, I also get kinda bitchy because when I get nervous, I sometimes turn into a witch. Unfortunately, I do associate butterflies with cool stuff, which is kind of sick because this might mean I get some kind of high off of them and that's just not healthy (especially if it leads to ulcers). Maybe other people do, too, and this is why they long for the butterflies -- they're like endorphins or heroin or chocolate or something.

The person you're supposed to be with will make you happier (notice I didn't say happy, because you should be happy with yourself before anything else. Very Oprah, I know.), and excited and add something to your life. And I don't think you should stay in a relationship where the love is gone or there's no attraction (not just with looks). But it's this notion that everything is supposed to be a fairy tale, that "butterflies" are always supposed to be there that nauseates me. To me, love is a hell of a lot more than a feeling in your stomach.

Thursday, January 09, 2003

Obsessed much?

Wednesday, January 08, 2003

After struggling with a name for my grocery cart, I've decided to go with Colin, inspired by the Real Worlder himself. Colin the Cart is a bit bigger than I thought and maneuvering it through the parking lot and aisles was kind of a bitch. One guy commented that I had "the SUV version" of carts. If only I talked on my cellphone while steering it, I could be considered very obnoxious...weird, The View just had on a segment about SUVs and terrorists...

And The Bachelorette is on tonight. You can be sure the snarky comments will be flying around my apartment. Although, reality men generally aren't as fun to make fun of as reality women. Maybe because reality women act psycho and bitchy...

Tuesday, January 07, 2003

I'm going to get tarred and feathered for saying this, but I'm rooting for Oakland this weekend against the Jets. I'm not much of a football fan, but when a Delaware alum (Rich Gannon) is quarterbacking a team (and while most UD sports are Division I, said football team is in I AA, thus not considered much) my allegiances will be swayed. I'm not a NY front-runner (see previous Yankee rants) and I'm also not a fan of the wild card in any sport. I'm not declaring myself a Raiders fan, but I'll be rooting for them, or their QB, anyway.
I can't stand people who don't voice when they're pissed off at you or going through something emotionally, like you're supposed to be a mind-reader or something. I knew a girl like this in college who would never tell us her problems, then get all huffy and say we didn't care. Not only is this manipulative, it's kinda self-centered, because friendship doesn't mean having ESP for all your pals' trials and tribulations. Needless to say, I don't associate with this girl anymore, and she's lacking in the friendship department. I don't feel sorry for her.

I know when I'm going through something and don't want people to know, I deal with it on my own and don't guilt-trip people for "not caring".
More often than not, however, I will tell people what's going on -- because I know that to get support for something, friends have to know that you're struggling. If I'm angry, I let people know it, because if I blow up at someone and they had no idea I was pissed, well that's just dumb.

Monday, January 06, 2003

Carolyn is my food soul mate. After years of people looking at me funny when I order hamburgers and sandwiches dry, never put ketchup, mustard or mayonaisse on things, throw out food when there is a condiment on it, I find my roommate who is exactly the same way. For example, last night we went food shopping (where we avoided the condiment aisle) and she decided to make tacos, sans sour cream or the nasty taco sauce that comes with the kit. We just had the hamburger meat with the seasoning and cheese. Some people call this bland, I call it fine by me.

Oh, and we're in the pre-planning stages of our housewarming party (not to be confused with the Hoboken Idol party, coming to you this spring). I'm not sure how we're going to fit everybody, but we'll figure it out.
The Apartment Scorecard:

Hot water in shower

Not Working:

Shower doors in my bathroom
Screens on my windows
Garbage cans
Remote for garage door

No cable yet
No Internet yet

1 granny cart for groceries

Friday, January 03, 2003

Some people...sheesh
So I've been a lot busy lately and have no internet service at home -- my entries will be lacking for a little bit.

We're still working out some kinks in the apartment, like the no-hot-water showers, the lack of garbage cans, the crazy recycling schedule and of course, unpacking.

New Year's Eve was like it is for me every year, just another night. Don't get me wrong I did stuff and got a bit tipsy (and Hollis and I made the declaration that Gene Kelly is hot), but I have a better time on regular Friday nights when there isn't a 70 dollar cover charge at bars and no one is pressured to go out and have a good time.

My favorite things about Hoboken -- the A&P sells my favorite Land O' Lakes hot chocolate and a deli on Washington St. sells these Cadbury candy bars that I love and are imported from England. And Dexter and Vicki are nearby. Oh, and the fact that I'm only on public transportation for 15 minutes per morning and evening is pretty excellent. Life is good.