Thursday, February 27, 2003

This is the biggest joke ever. My old high school has implemented differentiated instruction , which puts kids of all levels of smartness in one class instead of the A, B and C level classes that they had when I was there. Now, I don't think this new way is the answer, but people who think the ABC system is so great need a reality check. When little sophomore year me asked to be moved from B level English and history to A level, my counselor and English teacher looked at me like I was nuts. My counselor because I sucked at math and was therefore pigeonholed my entire time in Middletown schools, and my teacher because she probably thought that because I was quiet, I wasn't smart or soemthing. They told me A level was more difficult, blah blah blah. Well thanks for the vote of confidence, I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut.

I got moved up and did extremely well. In fact, I got straight As my senior year in English. But here's the funny part. My A level English class was doing the SAME WORK as the B level class. I don't know who got screwed more, the A levels for not being "challenged" (Oh, please, just give me my diploma and A-level class on my transcript and get me to Delaware was my theory.) or the B levels who were doing A level work and not getting the proper credit. I should've opened my mouth back then. What a controversy I would've started.

And don't even get me started on calling smart kids "Gifted and Talented", especially in elementary school, because every kid has some kind of gift or talent, not just the ones with a high IQ. Talk about demeaning to the kids of average intelligence -- you have no gift nor talent. Puh-lease. But that's a different rant for a different day.
Mr. Rogers. Sigh. Talk about a huge part of my childhood -- running away from the TV whenever that scary Lady Elaine came on is a big memory. The best part is watching the episodes now because there is so much that went over my head when I was 4. Like that King Friday is a big idiot and everyone is just humoring him most of the time -- see for yourself! Or that the show was so innovative for its time. I saw a rerun recently from the early 80s and the topic was divorce, and Mr. Rogers soothingly convinced the audience that just because Mommy and Daddy aren't together anymore, it doesn't mean they love their kids any less. The best part of the episode was King Friday and the Queen fighting (Yes, they were actually snippy with each other!) over something stupid and I think Prince Tuesday thought they were going to get a divorce like this kid he met in the park. Or there was the episode where King Friday thought he could teach Prince Tuesday to read just by sitting him infront of a TV screen that flashed YOU. CAN. READ. NOW. and all the humans had to teach him otherwise. Good stuff. And thankfully, he'll live on on public television for a long time to come.

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

Hey, who looked me up from CBS? Do I know you and we were buds or acquaintances or something? If so, please write. I'm intrigued. Unless you hate me and are plotting revenge against me or something.

And if the Foolish Heart guy doesn't get to the next round of American Idol, I'll be pissed. I'm voting for him once the lines stop being busy. I admire anyone who can hit the Steve Perry high notes (I don't even attempt to try. Not even in the car.), and with a great Steve Perry song to boot.

Monday, February 24, 2003

I was very impressed/entertained by the Grammy's last night. Not having a host helped because we didn't have to sit through the spiel of some jerk trying too hard to be funny when he/she's really not. And the performances didn't have to be minimilized because of it (quite the opposite with some acts) and speeches didn't have to be cut short. And it was over at a decent time. Some of the presenters were a little odd from lack of polish, I guess, but no one went off on an anti or pro-war tangent (except Fred Durst, who, for some reason, does not embody peace in my mind) so for that I'm grateful. It was all about the music last night -- Sweet Baby James with a cello! NSYNC doing acapella to THE BEE GEES (a double whammy there for Des and I)! Cold Play and the NY Philharmonic! Said Philharmonic doing West Side Story! The Dixie Chicks with amazing harmony! The Simon and Garfunkel rumor being true (but my song choice being far off. I was just glad it wasn't Mrs.Robinson)!

But the clothes -- ugh. Who dressed these people? It's one thing if you're going to make it about the music and not what you're wearing (as most males perfoming last night seemed to do, just picking up what was on the bedroom floor and going with it. Because they rocked, no one noticed their clothes.), but it seemed like every woman (except Norah Jones) went back to the 80s (Kelly Rowland, anyone?) and took the most horrible aspects of the fashions and added a few new twists and viola! Ugly central! I'm not much of a fashionista, but if you look like you're trying to make a fashion statement, at least use your money and do something nice for yourself and wear something flattering.

Friday, February 21, 2003

The Chicken is now terrified that he will be drafted. He was packing and planning to flee to Canada when I left this morning.
Happy b-day to Hollis!

And could Bachelor Aaron look more like an ass? The only compliments he could muster for his former (albeit found-on-TV) fiancee is that she's beautiful? She never should've worn those pants for him.

If Simon and Garfunkel should do a duet at the Grammys as rumored, my guesses for a song are either "A Heart in New York", "America" or "American Tune", though the latter two are kind of down songs, and I think the point of having the Grammys in NY is to celebrate NY. And even though "The Boxer" is an NY song, it mentions whores so TV censors everywhere will be overreacting. So I guess we'll see.

Thursday, February 20, 2003

Interoffice e-mail from Tonya. I think we should all follow her lead:

"I think we should all pause a moment to remember the life of Johnny Paycheck, who wrote the working person's anthem "Take This Job and Shove It". Paycheck passed away yesterday.

Perhaps hum the song to yourself - it feels good, especially on a busy Thursday!" (copyrighted material from the mind of Tonya)

And here are the lyrics, for those who are unfamiliar with Paycheck's tune:

Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.
My woman done left,
An' took all the reasons I was workin' for.
You better not to try to stand in my way,
As I'm a walkin' out the door.
Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.


I've been workin' in this fact'ry,
For nigh on fifteen years.
All this time, I watched my woman,
Drownin' in a pool of tears.
An I've seen a lot of my good folk die,
Had a lot of bills to pay.
I'd give the shirt right off of my back,
If I had the guts to say.


Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.
My woman done left,
An' took all the reasons I was workin' for.
You better not to try to stand in my way,
As I'm a walkin' out the door.
Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.


Well, that foreman, he's a regular dog,
The line boss is a fool.
Got a brand new flat-top haircut;
Lord, he thinks he's cool.
One of these days, I'm gonna blow my top,
And sucker, he's gonna pay
Lord, I can't wait to see their faces,
When I get the nerve to say:


Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.
My woman done left,
An' took all the reasons I was workin' for.
You better not to try to stand in my way,
As I'm a walkin' out the door.
Take this job and shove it,
I ain't workin' here no more.



Take this job and shove it.




I'm surprised the producers of the Bachelorette didn't play "Cheer Up, Charlie" from Willy Wonka last night while the reject tried to figure things out in the limo of broken hearts. Boy were we all surprised. When the word "unfortunately" came out of Trista's mouth while speaking to Charlie, Carolyn and I screamed "OH MY GOD!" because we were totally not expecting Ryan the Eye of the Tiger Rhymer to win. But I'm done with reality televsion and all its manipulations. Sure, I'll still watch the MTV reality lineup, and maybe the next Bachelor, but I am so tired of non-scripted TV. Does anyone have an imagination anymore?

Wednesday, February 19, 2003

Finally, the first anti-war sentiment that makes sense. And note how he lets the "pacifists" know that oil and greed isn't what this is really about, even though they're frothing at the mouth for it to be true.
Funniest moment of the Blizzard of 2003: In the A&P, I pass a guy perusing cereal boxes. Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are" is playing and he's singing along to himself. His words, and I quote: "I love you just the way you are...beotch." His girlfriend must feel so lucky...


Man, are people who are only used to riding the Path spoiled. Last night, due to whatever problems the blizzard caused, the trains were only running every 15 minutes (Awwww. NJ Transit only runs trains like every half hour during normal rush, so I feel SO sorry for everyone...) and they were more crowded than usual. Crowded, but not unrideable. Well, this little brat and he dumb boyfriend get on at 23rd and are all like "Whyyyyy is it sooooooo crowwwwwded?" I lost count how many times she whined "Ugh, get me off this thing." I came very close to screaming "The N train is this crowded EVERY NIGHT during rush hour, so get the hell over it!" But then, living all the way out in Astoria would probably be too much for this princess to bear, so how can I expect her to set foot on an N train?

Tuesday, February 18, 2003

Just call me Admiral Peary. Because that's who I felt like, tromping through the polar ice cap that is Hoboken today. My jeans are soaked (but not my feet -- yea!) from big ass drifts, and I was surprised to find many NY sidewalks still covered. It made for a good workout and I think I dislocated my leg, but all is well.

So, last night, the Lost Boys in Apt. 2 decided midnight was the perfect time for a party. They've been semi-loud all weekend, but last night, when I was dead tired from playing in the snow with Dexter and Vicki and emotionally drained from Joe Millionaire and the Battle of the Sexes, I'd had it. It's one thing to blast terrible pop remixes and have your boot-clad girlfriends dancing on your rugless hardwood floors on the weekend, but when it's a school night, don't mess with me. At 12:30, I marched up and banged on their door (now, you must know, I am the most non-confrontational person there is, so this was one of those rare moments in life for me), which they didn't hear until the third time I knocked. Some girl answered and I swear, it looked like our Octoberfest, 1997 party where we kicked two kegs in two hours. And it was a Friday night. But I digress. I nicely said, "Could you please turn it down?" and they were like "Yeah, uh, sure." No apology, or anything. Two minutes later, it was loud again. They even had a drunken singalong.

I am now in the throes of plotting revenge of the loudest degree. I shall now be known as the Count of Monte Nosleepo.

Monday, February 17, 2003

THE BLIZZARD IS HERE AND WE'RE NEVER GOING TO GET OUT OF OUR APARTMENT AGAIN! Or that's what the newscasters would have us believe. It must be too soon to call it the storm of the century because no one has been that stupid or over dramatic. Yet. So far, we have a drift blocking the front door to our building, but the sidewalk is clear because the wind isn't letting the snow sit in one place for long. But there are huge drifts across the street, as high as some of the cars parked out there. Those cars aren't going to be dug out for awhile. What pisses me off is that we had off today because of the holiday, but if we didn't, they would've closed the office. So we miss out on a snow day. Ugh.

Commercial Des and I can't stand on this snowy day: the Kohl's "Man-proposes-to-the-camera-who-is-supposed-to-be-his-girlfriend" ad. The two we've seen have the hokiest guys imaginable and neither of us would accept their cliche proposals if you paid us.

Friday, February 14, 2003

Did you ever want to see someone from your past really badly but you have no idea how to get in touch with them and don't know if they even want to see you? Man, does it suck.
What's the big deal about George mildly going off about DJ and the coaching staff? Is anyone surprised? Does anyone realize it's a slow sports week? And if anything, Jeter needs a bit of a fire lit under him. He's just gotta stop swinging at every pitch within 10 feet of home plate and he'll be set. So simmer George, NY tabloids, etc. The season hasn't even started yet.

Thursday, February 13, 2003

We're having a ball laughing and making snarky comments over the "Tips for Surviving a Terrorist Attack" memo passed around our office. I think we're all so internally freaked out that the best way to get through this is to act like it's a joke. There are so many rules on this list: walk sideways from the wind if there's a chemical explosion; get behind something solid (to quote my partner, "Like an episode of GH?) in case of an explosion; shower with your clothes on if exposed, but if "anything strange happens" stop showering. I'm holding on to this thing for years to come.
I'm applauding the NY city council for banning cell phones at public performances. This shmuck, however, has no clue:

‘Wireless phones are part of a long list of potentially inconsiderate behavior, a list that includes talking during performances, singing aloud -- except when sanctioned -- unwrapping candy and cough drops and even attending a public performance when suffering from a cough or allergy," said Thomas Wheeler, the group's president. ‘‘No matter how laudable the goal, the city cannot legislate courtesy and commonsense."

Yeah, uh, sure buddy. Considering so many people LACK courtesty and common sense in the NYC area, this needs to be done. When people cough, you can forgive it because it's a natural occurence. And someone having a coughing fit usually takes themself out of the theater to be polite. But for some reason, all sense of reality is lost when a cell phone comes into play. Because it's everyone's "right" to have a phone and talk on it whenever they please, even if it means being rude. I don't think this attitude will ever change, and that, dear Mr. Wheeler, is why there needs to be a law governing it. People abused the privilege, and now they have to pay for it. Now if only they could do something about banning them at sporting events...

Wednesday, February 12, 2003

Des and I broke down and voted for our American Idol favorites last night. I went with Rueben because he was dressed like something out of a rap video, yet sang a song by the Carpenters which is kind of original. Des voted for Clay because "He looks like Harry Potter!" Tune in tonight to see if we were correct!

It's so sad that I'm actually plotting my escape routes from New York should anything happen. I don't want to overreact like a lot of other people in the area are (my theory is they won't bother with NY again or they'll do it when we least expect it), but I guess I should have some idea. It sucks that the closest bridge for me is the George Washington all the way up in the Bronx. And they'd probably keep people off of it for fear of bombing or something. Sigh.

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

Dexter is going to be my job neighbor! As of the 24th, he'll be at Norton, just a few short blocks from my office. Not that I get a lunch hour or anything. But yea!
The Why I Am Weird Romantic Nugget of the Day: I don't believe men should have to pay for dates. 1)I make money. Most women do nowadays, so why should he always have to foot the bill? 2) Sure, it's nice when a guy says its on him, but I can't help but feel that means I "owe" him something afterward. 3) The spoiled brat princesses out there have to learn the meaning of give and take, and Mr. Big footing the bill for dinner every time will never knock these ladies off their pedestals. Did you ever see the look on these women's faces when you tell them you went dutch? It's like saying you don't want more than a one carat diamond engagement ring. But that's another Why I Am Weird Romantic Nugget for another day...

Now, I'm not against either party paying for a date every now and then or rotating who pays for what. I just don't believe in this notion that you can tell how much a guy cares about you by what he spends on you. There are other ways that he can prove himself to be a gentleman, and women have to realize that.
Happy Pitchers and Catchers! It's all about October, starting today.

Here's my theory on Iraq -- don't do anything right now and be all grateful to France and Germany for keeping the peace. This way, if Iraq never again does anything terroristic, all will be good and it won't look like the US jumped the gun. But if they should god forbid decided to nuke us and everyone else, then we can blame France and Germany for not wanting to help and make the non-supportie countries feel like crap. Very passive-aggressive, I know, but these are strange times we live in.

Monday, February 10, 2003

So I saw How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days this weekend and wasn't that impressed. It was clunky and about 20 minutes too long. The only good thing about it was that they portrayed Kate Hudson's character as a believable sports fan, though the writers made a huge mistake by saying that the Knicks would be home during the NBA Finals for games 1-3, which would only happen in Hollywood. The thing that annoysme is that there hasn't been a decent chick flick out in awhile. The plots are so contrived, it's like they're thinking "Oh, women are too fixated on being pretty like Sandra Bullock to think about plot, so they'll never notice how bad this movie is. Oh, and throw in the most cliche jokes imaginable because women find stupid things funny." The good thing is, I came out of the theater and wanted to write something smart. So maybe I will.

Des made the Chicken a guru turban last night, but Carolyn said he looked more like Osama bin Laden. To quote "Yes, every chicken wants to look like a terrorist." I think he looked more like the pope, but whatever. They are assimilating to him so well. He must be brainwashing them in their sleep.

Friday, February 07, 2003

I hate the orange alert. I'm not a fan of being in 24/7 freaked out mode. Maybe I'll have my mom make the Chicken a gas mask. Sigh.
Oh boy did the inherited klutzy Bischer gene come out in full effect today. Or my non-paying attention self is to blame. I was coming out of the turnstile at the Path station, and too busy putting my Path card back in my wallet to see the big blue pillar right infront of me and crashed right into it. Luckily, my hands cushioned most of the blow, but some of my fingers kinda hurt right now. Thankfully, not many people saw me, at least I hope...

Thursday, February 06, 2003

I just realized something. I am sincere and this is a bad thing. Because when it comes to getting to know a crush-worthy guy, I'm a "boring" ass and don't play games. And this is bad when it comes to blowing off guys I really don't like. I guess men are used to us women playing hard to get or something, and when they skeeve us out and we try to get rid of them, they think we really want them. Do I blame men for only liking the hard to get girls, or do I blame women for following "the rules"? Such a vicious cycle. I suggest everyone get over the game playing and just be who they are.

And the new annoyingest commercial on TV is Mya and Common's Coca-Cola ad. I don't mind either artist, but oh that freaking song...

Wednesday, February 05, 2003

What that was supposed to say was:
Ha! See, I'm not such a stick-in-the-mud that I can't laugh at my team.
Ha! See, I'm not such a stick-in-the-mud that I can't

Monday, February 03, 2003

Overly cute kids on TV annoy me. Des and Carolyn looked at me like I'd just said "I hate children, period" when I said this during a Disney World commercial this weekend. You know the one -- way too cute little girl gets dressed up determinedly as Cinderella, her parents looking so proud, only to meet her idol later on. Now, overly cute kids in real life are fine, it's the ones that are so manufactured to tug at our heart strings by some ad execs or TV producers that annoy me. Like I'd never get the idea to take my kids to Disney unless I see the sickeningly sweet little girl tugging on her fake glass slippers. Because I'm stupid and can be brainwashed my Madison Ave. and a set of dimples.
The loss of the Space Shuttle Columbia opened my eyes to just how young the space program is. They've only been at it for 40 years, and that'll end up being just a tiny portion of the timeline in like 500 years. In something so immature, you have to expect things like Saturday's disaster to happen, which is kind of depressing. But you know that this is only the beginning of something huge, and years and years from now accidents like that won't happen again. It truly is a pioneering effort.

In less serious news: Tonya hated Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood in book form too!!! That makes Hollis, Tonya and myself in the vast minority who couldn't get through it. The movie wasn't so bad, though.