Monday, June 30, 2003

Carolyn and I have found the trashiest show on television. It's called Anything for Love, and man does it bring reality television to a new low. Especially when a woman needs to pretend to be a stripper (and trap her husband) to get her marriage to work. Carolyn is thinking of taking Jorge on the show, to reveal her innermost (fake) feelings to him and pretends to be catcher to win his heart. I will have the VCR ready.
Shut up, Venus Williams:

Venus Williams outgrows Harry Potter

LONDON - When Venus Williams last won the Wimbledon women's title two years ago, she was reading the adventures of Harry Potter, the world's most famous boy wizard.


Asked if she had joined the bookstore queues last weekend to buy book five of the great publishing phenomenon, she said: "No, I didn't. I don't know if I'm going to. I might be a little old now."


"I'm 23, I've got to really focus on things that are really going to enrich my life," she said.
So I finished Harry Potter this weekend (and saw tons of adults reading it the past week) and now I feel cranky because we all may have to wait another 3 years before the next book comes out. And I just realized I'll be in my 30s when the final book is issued. Anyway, all in all No. 5 was good. People kept saying how dark it was going to be, and it was, but even so it still managed good story-telling without being depressing. Rowling told some kids last week that they can't bank on Harry living, which kind of pissed me off, and I swear, if she kills off any of the three main characters, I'll be very hesitant to call it a children's book. It's bad enough kids are going to have to slog through all their English lit. in high school, with fairly depressing endings (Just remember all the novels you had to read back then. Did any of the narrators or main characters end up content? Didn't think so.) so why not let them have the good ending there?

Saturday, June 28, 2003

So, I've just returned from Brooklyn, where Vicki, Dexter, Colette and I went to hear Innervisions (the Stevie Wonder tribute group) and I'm happy to say I live in "F---ing C---town." This according to a very normal-looking young man, who was spewing angrily as he walked down the street like a crazy person. Probably some c--- broke his heart, and he decided in his drunken preppy mind that that's what all of Hoboken is made up of. This is his problem. He's only going for the self-absorbed bitches of this town, and therefore, we're all lumped into that lot when they show their true colors. But quite frankly, I couldn't even blame a self-absorbed bitch for disposing of a whiny shmuck like our angry friend. Bitterness never won fair heart, dear.

Dexter, Vicki and I managed to catch the Smiley/Happy bus home just now, and it being Friday, our friendly driver reminded us it was karaoke night. Unfortunately, everyone was either too trashed or tired to sing along when he broke into the chorus of "The Gambler." He then started singing a song I couldn't make out over the air conditioning. When Dexter told me what it was, I could've sworn he said it was "Love Bites," but that isn't a song for the Smiley bus. It was probably the Love Boat theme,which would totally make sense because this couple was all over each other at the front of the bus.

Quote of the night: "I haven't seen dancing like that since the Cosby Show." -- Dexter.

Friday, June 27, 2003

After reading this, The Chicken wants to fly, too.

Thursday, June 26, 2003

Color me flabbergasted. That's all I've got to say about that.

Wednesday, June 25, 2003

I've never been so pissed about something that didn't even happen to me. It happened earlier today, when someone decided it was in their power to semi-bully a person of inferior status. And it wasn't the first time this has occured. I hate bullies -- I don't care what the hell they've been through in their lives that makes them that way because it doesn't give the right to make other people feel like crap. It took everything in me not to tell this person where to go -- me, KB, the nice sweet girl who doesn't say boo. Even to nasty Yankee haters who intentionally try to piss me off. People who overheard this happen said it wasn't that bad, but oh, it was. Any time someone tries to be condescending, it's so not right. As I left the situation, I stormed up 5th Ave. in the 90 degree heat, stomping and not even feeling the temperature. That's right. I'm Karen Bischer. I'm 26 years old. And I'm pissed off.
Well, Sasquatch was having a pacing field day last night, so since I couldn't fall off till one a.m. because of it, I'd like to pay tribute to him in song. Since I can't really complain to him about it, this is my outlet.

To the tune of Sherriff's When I'm With You:

I never had a sleeping problem
But now I do
I never needed Sominex
Till I lived below you
Ooh, man
Lack of Sleep
Is what I get
Because of you

Maybe it's the way you stomp loud
Till quarter of one
Maybe it's the way your bed creaks
when you're getting some
Ooh, Man
Lack of Sleep
Is what I get
because of you

Saa-aaa-aaa-squatch
I can't sleep because of you, oh yeah
Oh Saa-aaa-aaa-squatch
My eyes are bloodshot
Because of You
Because of you

I never cared for loud music
At ten after two
And I never slammed my fist on the ceiling
Like you drive me to
Oh, Man
Lack of sleep
Is what I get
Because of you

Repeat chorus

Monday, June 23, 2003

Major shout outs are in order for this past weekend. First being Hollis and Christian, who were way excellent hosts. Not only did I fill my United States history/cheesesteak/chick flick quota with Hollis (it was just like Astoria all over again, minus my fiddle-playing landlord and Hollis' neighbor with lots of shoes), I was let in on Chris's theory of the "Meaten Lifestyle" which is at the same time hilarious and thought provoking. It's nice to know that even if your friends are in another city, they are only a PATH/NJ Transit/SEPTA ride away.

Shout out No. 2 goes to Dexer and Vicki, who played host last night for a Sex and the City meal/viewing, which Shirley, Jason and I attended. Dexter made some scrumptious chicken and brownies to the tunes of the most eclectic mix of music I've heard in a long time (classical and N'Sync mingled), and we got to watch the episode and disect it afterward. The line of the night award goes to "Let's shoot the book."

Shout our No. 3 goes to the residents of the house on Park Ave. in Hoboken, who have decorated their front yard to the point of distraction. I was so agog at their fountain, gargoyles, saints, Christmas lights and lion statues that I didn't even notice the folded metal bed frame that was laying across the sidewalk and which soon found my big toe (the former jammed-Yankee toe of the 2001 World Series era) and smashed up my toenail pretty bad, even though I was wearing sneakers. Grrr....

And of course, Harry Potter gets a shout out because the book weighs more than the phone book and it only cost me 19.99. If a book is that huge, it's worth the price, unlike these 200-page paperback jobs selling for 15 bucks that publishers put out today. I can also use Harry as a deadly weapon, if need be, so that's two uses for the price of one.

Friday, June 20, 2003

So I'm off to Philadelphia this afternoon, following my stint as Copy-Chief-For-the-Day, and I will be in search of a decent cheesesteak, which Hollis and Christian have promised. Since Hollis has known me, I've been whining that NY can't get it right. Who the hell puts peppers and ketchup on a cheesesteak? Sigh.

Sasquatch must have been practicing his runway walk (sashay-shante!) last night because he was pacing the length of his room (in hard-soled shoes because he was "click-clacking") for a good hour. And he was up at the crack of dawn again to pace somemore. The kid needs to calm himself down just a smidge...

Thursday, June 19, 2003

I'd like to take the NY Post to task for claiming that Joe Torre's "back-off" to George means the "Bronx Zoo is back with avengance." Doesn't the media wish! I don't see Joe scuffling with Hideki Matsui in the dugout, both having to be restrained; I don't see any inner turmoil with the Yankees clubhouse;I don't see one playerhated for his showing off; I don't see a candy bar being named after Derek Jeter; I don't see Jorge pissed off at Mondesi. So where's the fire? Frankly, the bickering between Joe and George is lame. Joe just wants to do his job, George wants to see a winning team. OK? That's the controversy. Whoopdee damn do! Bronx Zoo with this mellow club? That'll be the day...
AUGH! 5 measley outs. That's all Roger needed for a no-hitter, but alas, it was not meant to be. The Yanks didn't have a run at that point anyway (and obviously didn't get one till the 12th) so who knows what would've happened. It was a good game, though, despite the lack of offense. Jill actually got our seats upgraded when someone from her company gave up their seats -- 9 rows off the left field line, right behind third base. I could actually see the individual blades of grass (which is just so soft looking. I wanted to take it home to sleep on it), make eye contact with the ball boy, and wave to Juan Rivera (I didn't, but I could have). They were the second best seats I've had, the first being 7 rows off first base in 1998. And the game was flying by too, and considering it went to exras, a 10:30 ending isn't that bad at all.

It took everything in me to not buy a Godzilla blow-up doll, and it took everything in me to not wallop the smart-ass non-Yankee fans sitting two rows behind us who kept trying to start a fight with the overly-loud Yankee fan behind them. Why come to a game if you're not there to cheer either team, or more importantly, why would you spend that money to see a team you hate? Go figure.

Maybe I'll head over to the Yankee store today and buy that Godzilla doll. I can put it on my desk at work and it could be friends with my Derek Jeter ornament. Speaking of which, Tonya was saying if they ever came out with a Tino ornament, she'd have an entire Tino Christmas Tree. Now that's something I'd like to see!

Wednesday, June 18, 2003

Our new favorite songs at work are Europe's "The Final Countdown" and "Darth Vader's Theme" from Star Wars.

Assuming there is no rain tonight, I am heading out to the Stadium with my friend Jill and sitting in the bleachers for what will no doubt be the quintessential match-up of the season: Clemens vs. The Devil Rays. Let's hope Roger doesn't start slacking off now...

Tuesday, June 17, 2003

I had my last children's writing class last night, which was kind of sad. The people were nice and it got me writing on a consistent basis instead of "oh, I'm too tired to write today." I gave in the second chapter of my story, which got very positive feedback, and one classmate even wrote on it "Remember me when you're famous!" which almost made me cry on the PATH when I read it. With this upheaval at the office, I need to hear that stuff, as much as I'd like to think I don't care what others think of my work. I know children's publishing doesn't pay well (I'm no J.K. Rowling, that's for sure) and I'd probably still have to work, but it's the principle -- doing something on my terms, and the payoff is other people enjoying it. That sounds like a good life to me.

Monday, June 16, 2003

Whoever said change is good should be smacked. Because we just got blindsided with something here at work, and it might lead to all of us being in deep ca-ca...

It just wouldn't be summer for me if I didn't get a half-assed sunburn. It happened yesterday, unbeknownst to me, while my dad and I took the boat out for a ride. It was cool on the river and ocean, and the sun wasn't that strong, so I didn't feel my shoulders and forehead getting toasty. Now, red shoulders I can deal with -- no one is going to see them under a T-shirt. But the nice red stripe across the top of my forehead (while the rest of my face is a normal color) well, there's no way to hide it. It's actually quite faint and I think I'm the only one who can see it, but still. It's going to be a bitch when it peels. Must remember sunscreen, must remember sunscreen...

If you see Dexter and Vicki today, be nice to them. They're beloved Nets fell last night to the Spurs, and it's usually the uckiest thing a fan has to endure.

Saturday, June 14, 2003

So for only the third time in 6 years, I watched an interleague game. There was just too much going on, especially with Tino and Joe Girardi back in town, that I figured I could park my annoyance at the door for a few hours.

Let me start with Tino. I loved this guy, and by the sound of the ovation he got last night (and I hope Tonya and Julianna got to see it from a bar in Iowa, like they were planning), so did every other Yankee fan. When the news came down that they'd gotten him to play first base after his Mariners defeated the Yanks in 1995 (sigh), I was in my freshman dorm computer lab, and as much as I loved Mattingly, I knew the move would be huge. I embraced Tino right away. So when he was let go right before Christmas of 2001, I don't think I (or Tonya!) had ever been so sad to see a player go. I like Giambi, and he's growing on me every day, but still.

Anyway, when he got cheered like crazy last night and the announcers said it was probably music to his ears because he's been getting booed in St. Louis lately, it really made me feel bad. I wish there was some way to bring him back and still keep Giambi. Ugh.

OK, Clemens. I've never been a huge fan of his, from the moment I was in my college newspaper office and found out the Yanks had traded the beloved David Wells for him. His stats didn't matter to me. He was a Red Sock for most of his career and it seemed like he was slapping his old fans in the face, and that didn't sit well with me. Over the last few years, he hasn't seemed that human to me (the bat incident in the 2000 World Series just helped that one) because the only emotion you ever see on him is Grrrrr, if that can be an emotion.

Last night, however, he softened. You could see it in his face when he came back out to the dugout for the final outs of the game - the man was just plain relieved. Then, after the celebration, a stupid CBS reporter starts questioning him about the game, and having his family there, except his mom "who isn't doing very well at the moment". It was totally not the place for this question, because it bacame obvious the woman is very ill when Clemens shocked the hell out of me and almost broke down crying over it. He struggled for a few minutes, getting through the question and still staying amicable. I'm still not in love with Clemens, but he won't be on my shit list any more.

And the best observation of the night came when a few strikes Clemens threw were called balls by the umpire, and Joe Torre had this priceless, confused look on his face -- he looked exactly like The Chicken. My dad thinks they are one in the same now. Perhaps I should have The Chicken send a picture with a letter saying "Dear Mr. Torre, Everyone thinks I look like you..." I would love to see Joe's face when he opened that thing....

Friday, June 13, 2003

I'm finally going to see Hollis in Philly next weekend. Yay!! Six months is too long between visits with one of your best buds.

The cubicle space heater is drying out my contacts. There has got to be a better way to stay warm in here...

I've got five chapters completed in the book. If I don't have the entire thing finished by the end of the summer, slap me. Because I'm not making excuses anymore, and by golly just writing it makes me so happy.

Thursday, June 12, 2003

Carolyn is claiming the reason she had a craving for Outback cheesefries tonight is that she's "pregnant." I told her she'd better run it by our landlord first, and that she can have my room because she can use the walk-in closet as a nursery. We can't decide if Me llamo es Jorge or Giambi with staff infection got her in her current condition, so the baby's name is going to be An-tony (for our landlord) Matsui (because we like the name) Posada-Giambi. Derek Jeter is going to be the godfather. And if you actually believe that, you don't know how silly we can be.

And we're going over pitchers this week, so I'm teaching her Mussina because he's cute and "once you know him, you'll never forget him." We find this the funniest line tonight and we keep giggling over it.

Coronas and Margaritas. Ah, the fun of it.
I'm so mellow right now, after having the day from hell at work. It was so damn busy, I don't think I moved from my desk for four hours at one point. But I digress, I'm mellow now (thanks to Corona) and am full of observations. Like how Stand By Me is such a great song. And how cool it is that we're having the first legit thunderstorm while in our apartment. Speaking of, the roomies and I decided we have to have a big dance party soon, so be prepared. Other observances -- why have all the cute guys suddenly come out of the Hoboken woodwork? It's like someone was keeping them in a cupboard, and then dumped them all out in time for summer. I'm not complaining!

Holy hell is it pouring right now. That's it weather, get it out of your system now because some of us (like the entire Eastern seaboard) would like a dry, sunny weekend. Let's see if that happens...
Sasquatch was going at it AGAIN late last night. And to make matters worse, he was up stomping around at 5:45 a.m., a good hour and a half before I wake up. I came very close to leaving a "please get a damn rug already" note on his door (though I'm not sure it will muffle his creaking bed), but I don't want to be a bitch about this. It's starting to affect me, though, in that I'm getting as much sleep as I do in October when the Yanks are on and playing till 1 a.m. What to do, what to do....
I'm amazingly cool after the Yanks being no-hit last night. And if I didn't have to face a certain baseball jackass today, I'd just let it go altogether. You see, the last time the Yanks were no-hit, they won the World Series that year. And I'm hoping that this serves as the complete wakeup call the Yanks need to start majorly kicking ass like they're capable of. They have a decent record, and they're still getting trashed by the media (rightly so in most cases). CNNSI's top story wasn't the Nets' 1-point win last night, or the US Open starting today, but the no-hitter. Everyone wants to hate the Yanks, and they're loving this messy streak of the past month and a half. I can't wait until the pieces all start falling in place again. Because they will. And when they do, watch out.

However, I'm glad Joe Torre finally lost it about them. They've been swinging at everything that comes their way and patience is no longer an option. I don't care how many home runs Soriano hits, he's still too wild at the plate (and in the field). Jeter never hesitates to swing at the first pitch. Jeff Weaver needs to go to the pen. If they had a losing record right now, changes would be made. The over .500 record is what's keeping them safe. I think they need a little fear in them. It certainly can't hurt.

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

It is so cold in my office, that if i stray from my desk and space heater (yes, space heater. A number of people have them here since it's 40-below from April to October) I literally feel the need to run back to my desk to get warm again. Even the little Derek Jeter (El Capitan) ornament on my computer looks chilly. I will have to knit him a sweater.
The Chicken wants you to meet a few of his friends

Today is our first day without a boss. It's so weird because whoever takes his place will be my fourth boss in four years -- my first boss at McGraw-Hill, then my first boss here, then my second boss here and now the new yet-to-be-found bosseroo. I just hope they hire someone soon because I don't think I can use my vacation days until then. Ugh.

Monday, June 09, 2003

It totally sucks to have to practice what you're going to say to the asshole baseball fan in the office who will no doubt rub in the Yankee losses over the weekend the second he walks through the door. Because this person has no life, and is bitter about his own team's pursuits (or lack of them). I hate antagonists. If there were a special hell for them, I'd be so happy.

Sasquatch was having yet another late night something-or-other last night, and I swear, I thought his bed was going to crash through the ceiling. I'll get a good night sleep on Sunday at some point, I hope...

Sunday, June 08, 2003

Today just sucked to be a sports fan in the NY metropolitan area. First, Roger loses his bid for 300 and as a result, loses the game. Then Funny Cide sucks all the enthusiasm out of me and everyone else in my apartment watching the sloppy-ass Belmont when he loses to Empire Maker (which was kind of like watching the geeky kid in class get all this hype and make it to the prom court, only to have the popular bitch win prom queen, except with horses) and then the Devils just get spanked by the Ducks and now there has to be a Game 7. I'm having trouble finding the silver lining in all this. Even the Chicken looks confused.

The cast-iron grill worked fine in place of a BBQ for the second Belmont festivities. Except it set off my smoke alarms, and there was no stopping the incesant beeping and montone woman barking "FIRE.FIRE.FIRE". But everything else went well and I hope everyone had a good time. Next year, we'll get a Triple Crown winner. I'll promise it now.

My tummy is now hurting. The Chicken doesn't look so hot either. Perhaps tomorrow will be more hopeful, sports-wise.

Friday, June 06, 2003

I started reading "The Devil Wears Prada" because I heard all this hype about it and my roommate had it and called it "a light read" which I needed because the 225,000-word Harry Potter is coming up in two weeks. Anyway, I was turned off as soon as I read Lauren Weisberger's bio on the inside jacket flap where it says she graduated from Cornell in 1999. Well La-di-da! I could see saying "graduated from Cornell" but it seems like the year was thrown in just to brag that she has a bestseller out at the ripe old age of 26. Who else puts in their graduation year?? And maybe the whole Cornell part is bragging too. If I ever get published, remind me to say in my bio that I graduated somewhere in the middle of my class from the University of Delaware, once one of the nation's biggest party schools, in 1999.

The book itself is OK so far, but since the author's my age, I'm finding myself editing as I read. Each paragraph is gigantic and somethings could've been cut down. But that's just my opinion. I haven't finished it yet, so I'll wait to make a final say on it.
I have seen the scariest thing on TV. It was last night while watching VH1 Classic's Request Hour, and it was Neil Diamond's video to "Turn on Your Heartlight". If you thought the men in plastic suits coming to get E.T. were frightening, well this one just tops it. There are no scenes from the movie in the video. Just Neil in some kind of studio, singing straight at the camera. It's like having a staring contest with your TV, and he wins because you just have to look away. It's like he's smarmily daring you the whole time to keep staring at him. And if you keep staring, he looks like he's going to jump through the TV and kill you. Just watch.

We have this really strange STARZ channel that plays the same four movies all day long for a week. I've seen Airplane almost every night. Not that that's a bad thing, especially when I keep coming in on Elaine and Ted's first meeting in the sleezy bar that suddenly turns into Saturday Night Fever (one of my all-time favorite movie scenes), but it's just so bizarre. I don't think we're paying for it, and I'm not exactly sure who would.

Thursday, June 05, 2003

Whatever the new blogging system is, my archives have disappeared with the old one, as have my other June posts. Blogger has yet to get back to me on the matter, and if they don't, I'll just have to find someplace else to post now, won't I?
WHERE THE HELL IS THE REST OF MY BLOG????!!!!!
Ugh. Is there just one person in your day that you long to scream "SHUT UP!" at? Especially when they're a loudmouth know-it-all and they don't know squat?

Wednesday, June 04, 2003

I didn't watch last night's game because of my anti-interleague stance, but I did catch the ending, where the Yankee bullpen again imploded and the Reds celebrated like they'd won a World Series instead of winning a tight, low-scoring ball game. I hate seeing shit like that, and it's not Cincy's fault. No, when something like that happens, it's usually the bullpen's fault, as it has been for the past month. What is the deal? Were there no decent middle-relievers out there during the offseason? Has George gotten too hit-happy and forgotten to draft any minor league pitching prospects? People were complaining on Monday that the Yankees as a team need to get a grip. While there were way too many errors on Sunday, I'd say the hitting is capable. It's the bullpen that's sucking the life out of this team. Acevedo and Osuna have yet to impress me. Rivera is showing his age. Hitchcock, Anderson, et. al -- the whole lot of them reminds me of the Yanks of the early 1990s. Now maybe these guys have a good track record, but right now, I wouldn't trust them in a playoff game. That's not good. I hope somebody realizes that soon and stops blaming everyone in sight instead of the ones who really deserve it.

Tuesday, June 03, 2003

They're naming Jeter captain! Totally deserved. When you see who else was captain before him, it just fits. Tonya has already started calling him El Capitan.
I'm not exactly sure what Sasquatch was, um, doing last night at midnight, when his bed was bouncing so loud I could hear the springs, and a vase in my room actually started shaking from the vibrations. But man alive, it probably registered on the Richter scale. I mean, he walks loud, so there's probably no hope of him doing anything quietly...
I managed to get on the "Smiley" or "Happy" bus from the Port Authority to Hoboken last night, which is a trip in a trip. The driver is this really happy guy who actually talks over the PA system as he drives, just like a pilot. For example, "Our cruising speeds will be between 8 and 45 miles per hour." "The price of gas at the Exxon station is $1.45" He let's everyone know that "Every Friday night is Karaoke Night on the Smiley Bus" where I'm told he's actually the only person who sings, but all the passengers get a kick out of it. He sang a little bit two weeks ago on a Monday ("You Are so Beautiful to Me"), but not last night. The woman who got off in front of me asked him why he didn't sing and he said that's only for Fridays. Hmmm... Oh, and I think the last time I rode he promised a fashion show on the bus sometime in June. It would be so awesome if all public transportation can make the $2.10 ride as entertaining.

Monday, June 02, 2003

Carolyn is attempting to get to know the Yankees. She was raised a Yankee fan and can name some of the players and even speak their native language("Posada. Catcher. Me llamo es Jorge." is a big one), and I've recently been tutoring her in more Yankee players. We have a "Player of the Week", for example, where I find one player for her to learn, and we discuss him. Kind of like a book club with athletes, except more silliness ensues. So yesterday, we were trying to pick a new player to learn, since she's got most of the infield and Matsui down. This was in the 17th inning, mind you. We decided to go with Soriano (which her brother, a diehard Yankees fan who is happy to see his sis' progress, agreed with) and not two minutes later did Alfonso hit one out. I think we'll have to pick a lot of Players of the Week if that's the case.

Our new roommate, Melissa, moved in this weekend, and she's been having bad luck putting together her Ikea dresser. Every time she thinks she's finished, another part is missing. But she's taking it so well. She even made us cookies last night!

Sunday, June 01, 2003

It's very interesting to go to a grown-up party (like Shirley's cocktail/wine & cheeser of Friday night) where everyone digresses to childhood upon discussing the next Harry Potter book. Shirley and Jason have theirs on pre-order at Barnes and Noble like me, and when we get the phone call that it's in, no bratty child will stand in our way, damn it.

I swear, Roger Clemens needs Lithium the day he pitches big games. I'm so tired of hearing about him being "so pumped up" that he can't pitch properly. I know it's his 300th win he's going for and all, but the Yanks need a win too. I almost think that should be the priority.