Saturday, December 31, 2005

Weather, Stop Being Flakey and be Snow Flakey

You know, weather, you really are a big pansy ass. I mean, you give us snow lately, and lots of it, but it's not, like, really snow. It's the wet, doesn't-really-accumulate-because-it's-still-kind-of-mild kind of snow -- like, you may as well just make it rain. If you're going to waste your time producing all these original design snowflakes, at least be a man about it and have it, like, really snow and accumulate. This kind of snow is just dreary and depressing -- you can't play in it, and since it's still kind of humid, you get a bad hair day as a result. What fun is that? And If you're going to make the sidewalks slippery, at least give me a big pile of snow to break my fall with. So grow some balls and give us the real thing, not this cheap imitation of the white stuff you've been providing the past few weeks. It's the least you can do since you've decided it's got to be cold outside for the next three months....

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Misty Water Colored Memories

Well, I'd certainly say 2005 was a busy year. There was great joy, there was nagging pain (thanks, Yankee pitching staff); there were a few engagements (Hollis and Chris, Carolyn and Rick), a few weird breakups, and my bizzaro crush to end all pop culture crushes. New friends were found in a field of cubicles and old friends found new ways to surprise me. There were some way awesome Monday night dinners and some fantastic Friday night Season Ticket games. There were a few parties, a few new blog friends added to the roll call, some really great books that got read, some great television shows were viewed and some neighbors who decided to move out and break my readership's heart. In short, there was a lot going on. And since it's getting to be that time of year and I like to take trips down Memory Lane, I give you the Complete and Total Bisch Greatest Hits of 2005:

Yankee related:

It felt like it took forever to baseball season to finally arrive.....

Tonya earns the respect of Yankee fans everywhere by admitting she'd take one for the team and sleep with the enemy.

In which the Yankees look more like a street gang than a baseball team.

One guy's artwork is fodder for me to shit on -- especially because it's so bad.

It's Opening Night -- and Tonya, Julianna, Steph and I are there, freezing, rained on and loving it.

How close were we? THIS close!

I get mighty pissed at those booing Mo.

A-Rod has probably the best offensive performance I have ever seen from a Yankee in my lifetime -- and gets some R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

The Yanks stage a 13-run rally in the 8th, and I thankfully never turn my TV off before it happens.

The Yankee Diaries: The Danceoff Edition, in which Giambi gives the performance of his life, A-Rod and Derek have a tiff, and Matsui is just happy to be there.

I get mighty miffed at people who don't think Yankee fans are baseball fans.

One last look at a stat that will haunt The Cap'n not more, from right before he hit the granny.

A-Rod takes Schilling Deep, just as I'm texting Tonya about how ridonkulous Curtass' goatee looks.

The best regular season game I've seen in person, complete with 5-run 9th inning rally.

In which I realize what the baseball season should be about.

In which I let Dan Shanoff have it for saying the Yanks are toast.

I laugh back at Lupicass' writing off of the Yanks.

Tonya and I see what will ultimately be the last winning Yankee game of the year, with one of the awesomest crowds I've ever been a part of.


The Chicken imparts his wisdom to the lovelorn.

I get a little sad over A-Fed getting kicked off American Idol

Liana and Eric invite me to Boston and Fenway, and I miraculously come out alive

One of only six Yankee hats I saw in all of Beantown

Sasquatch decides he's had enough of me declaring revenge on him by blasting power ballads at 9 a.m. and moves out.

Chipotle, in all its degrees of hotness, is discovered.

The Hoboken Crew gets a little R&R at Jesse's beach house.


It gets just a wee bit toasty at the Weekly office.

I decide it's time to make a change in the job, and a bit of a risk moving to a start-up. It breaks my heart to leave Tonya, Steph and Erica behind, though Ken, Rana and Carolyn V are all at the new place to soften the blow, as are some new buds.

My new mag's launch party is a crazy night of drunken co-workers, hidden celebrities, a shit load of text-messaging and Constantine.

Const. does not show up at our Christmas karaoke party, however.

Tonya and I go to see the Eagles at MSG -- and make it totally about the Yankees...

...then see our idol Richard Marx at Westbury.

Erica joins me on a covert operation to see do a bunch of scary people we don't know.

And now for my favorite photo of the year:

Yeah, that felt good.

Looks like 2006 has a lot to live up to...

Feeling a Bit Wah, Wah, Wah Today

I'm going to feel a bit sorry for myself here for a bit. I don't do that, like, EVER, so kindly humor me for one post.

Lately it seems like lots of my friends are growing discontent with New York and threatening to get out of Dodge. Like, for instance, Jason walks in from lunch today and declares he needs to move to somewhere like Germany to escape the "rat race." While I think he was only half serious, shit like that kills me, as I've been conditioned to just expect friends to move away at some point. I've decided while most people have abandonment issues with family, I have it with buds. Not that it's anywhere near as serious as being neglected by a parent, but it does leave its mark on you for the worse. So, as I told Erica and Ken today at lunch (jokingly...I think): I am closing the doors to friendships with people who are from outside the NYC metro area, if only to protect myself from the sadness that comes when people decide to up and move to back from whence they came. Or move anywhere else for that matter. And even though being a Metro native doesn't guarantee a person staying around (see: friends born and bred in the area contemplating moves to San Francisco, England and Boston *shudders*), at least I know they have some kind of anchor to this vicinity that might weigh in the Metro Area's favor if they should be considering a move.

Don't get me wrong, I understand why people would want to move to where they are most comfortable (see: my four years in Delaware. It may be in the Philly media market, but it is SO not New York when it's October and your team is in the playoffs. Missing the NY atmosphere of 1996 and 1998 is something I really do regret a bit). And I am happy for my friends when they decide to go somewhere that makes them happy. But it sucks being the party left behind, and no amount of phone conversations and e-mails can make up for the lack of a pal who isn't within driving distance.

And no, it's not because I'm a self-centered only child that I feel this way. I understand people can't do things just to please me (damn it.). But since the first grade, it feels like every other year I lose a good friend to some kind of geographic urge to pull up stakes and make a home elsewhere; it's never some tertiary friend that I'd only be mildly bummed to see go. No, it's always someone whose void is accutely felt. Most recently it was Hollis three years ago and I still miss her like crazy. If Tonya decides to go back to the Midwest this year or Jason lives up to his threat to go to Deutschland, there goes two more awesome people from my everyday existence. And while I do have some of the awesomest friends on the planet in the here and now, even the absence of one of them is TOUGH.

So from now on, when I make a new friend, I am going to hand them a test that asks "How much do you like living in the New York Metro Area?" and "Are you planning to move more than 50 miles away anytime soon?" Yeah, yeah, tis better to have loved and lost, or to have made friends and lost or whatever, but I'd rather they stick around and see them often than lose them to seeing them only when airfares are good.

I just wish everyone could be as happy here as I am. That may sound naive, but is wanting these people (who add to that happiness) to stick around so wrong?


Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Our God is an Awesome God

Get this -- our department has some secret, special powers, including being able to kill celebrities just by wondering if they are alive or dead and summoning Huey Lewis from iPods just by joking about him. Or it could be we just have a "pipeline to God" in our cubicles, in which we remind him that, you know, Mr. Miyagi is still alive and running on borrowed time or that Huey Lewis and the News' career needs a resurgence, and he'd be all (in his deep God voice) "Thank you copy department for reminding me." As Jason said, "That God would be awesome."

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

*Rolls Eyes*

My 1 reason to hate New York Magazine's 123 things to love about New York.

Now if the Mets can avoid the joyless, championship-or-nothing paranoia that pervades the Yankees organization and become real pennant contenders, they’ll have changed the city’s baseball paradigm.

You know, I was going to have an opinion about this, but then I realized this just sounds like Lupicass lite, and my only response should be: Shut Up, New York Magazine.

(And way to represent all of NYC there, New York magazine. I suppose my No. 1 reason for loving New York, said team in Pinstripes, means I'm evil and joyless or something. Then again, I'm from Jersey, so what do I know?)

Monday, December 26, 2005

The Gift That Keeps on Giving


The Chicken just wanted to show off his Christmas gift from "Grandma and Grandpa" -- finally, a place to keep his extensive wardrobe! My guess is your closet is nowhere near as awesome...

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Stop Confusing My Chicken, Damone


The Chicken's all WTF? when he sees the clean-shaven Johnny Damon, tsking and rolling his eyes because he grew his own Charles Manson beard for nothing. He does admire Damone's bad-ass sideburns, though, and considers talking to his barber.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Get Yer Beard Here


The Chicken decides he, too, needs to look like a mangy beast, as this seems to be what catches George's attention. Anything to achieve his dreams of playing first base for the Yankees....

It's Probably Because It's Christmas and I'm Feeling Nice...

Hold onto the nearest stable object, kids, because I'm about to say something that might knock you over: I think has gotten better about their Yankee hating. I know. Not so much in that they've stopped producing Yankee bile (because as long as Jim Caple and the Sports Guy are on their payroll, that's never going to happen) but because they've finally gone and evened it out a bit by letting a non-Yankee hating columnist get a few words in edgewise. I mean, I don't agree with Bob Klapisch that Damone (yes, I am still calling him that) is going to be a "major spark" (because I don't think you can be psychic and say what a player will or won't do until he is actually doing or not doing it on the field from April-October, and don't feed me your sabermetrics/lifetime stats/projections etc., please. It's what you do in the here and now that matters to me. I'll remember your lifetime stuff when all is said and done, thank you very much, Scott Boras.), but I do like that they are actually letting a positive Yankee POV in there. Hell, I'd even take a non-positive viewpoint from Klapsich because I know he's a New York guy who may actually be informed about his Yankee knowledge, and not relying on some deep seeded hate to fuel his columns, as it seemed like for the past few years all you needed to be an ESPN columnist was to have a dislike for all things Yankee and you were golden. Not so much now.

In fact, over the course of the last year, I feel like they've made baby steps. Yeah, they still hate the Yanks on the whole, but they are letting some Sux hate filter in there from time to time too. See, I can take the hate, as long as there's enough to go around, you know? Now I just wish they'd find the time to start insulting/gushing over some other teams too. Aren't there 28 other clubs out there that the rest of America cares about? Isn't there a whole untapped market of fans just waiting to be pissed off? Because I know the hater-tots can be shared with everyone else. No need to be stingy.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Good Lord, Post, Don't Make Me Stop Reading You Too

I don't know how people even believe the shit they put in gossip columns anymore when the Post has this to say about my current place of employment:

Critics said that sales have been soft since the launch in October...

I'm not going to comment on the "sales being soft" part (*rolls eyes*) but I will say this: We launched in fucking August, jackass. Good lord, if you're going to make up shit, at least know something about the subject you're making up shit about. Or at the very least make your fact-checkers earn their salary or something novel like that....

Hair Today...


Since my first reaction when I saw the Yahoo headline "Yankees Reach Deal With Damon" was a bleary-eyed "Huh?", I give you some reactions by the people in my e-mail circles:

"What would Johnny do? Sign with the Yanks!" (college pal Ryan's reaction)

"DAMONE!!!!!!!!!!" (title of Steph's e-mail, as this is her pet insult name for him)

"I was joking with Erica that since Tino is gone I should adopt Damone whole-heartedly and cheer for/love him like I did Tino. But I don't think I can do" (Tonya, still working through her Tino heartbreak with humor)

"Appleseed is a Yank? Wtf?" (Melissa's text message to me)

"The Yankees got that Hippie from the Red Sox!" (Erica's Braves fan father's one line e-mail to his Yankee sympathetic daughter.)

"First it was Wade Boggs, then Roger Clemens, now Jesus himself just in time for Christmas!" (Jesse's response)

Eric, a Red Sox rooter, is very vexed with this right now and hopes we all don't go jumping into rooting for Johnny like he's our guy right away, like nobody in New York ever bashed him whole-heartedly before, and I can't say I blame him. I've never hated Damon (and I like him more than I ever did Clemens), as he was always respectful of the Yanks when everyone else on his team was trying to piss on them, but I never saw him in a Yankee uniform either. Especially after seeing how beloved he was in Boston. And I have questions about his arm. I guess I'm only glad this didn't cost us any prospects and it's only a four-year deal, not the dreaded seven year one. But the jury is still out on my end.

It's going to take some time for me to adjust to this. "Now batting for the Yankees, Number?? Johnny Damon."


Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Strike This

My god, could my office have timed our holiday break any better? Because at least half of my co-workers wouldn't have been able to make it in because of this god damn transit strike -- and it's 22 f'ing degrees outside (with a windchill of 11), so people who are hoofing it in from the boros ain't exactly the most comfortable at the moment. I am sure Erica's love for the all things MTA is overflowing at the moment.

I don't even deal with the subway that much, but the fact that I've always hated the MTA (they cry for a fare hike, it goes into effect, it's later found out a fare hike wasn't necessary because they were cooking the books, and yet the hike still stays in effect -- Fuckos™) and what I think the Union is asking for is RIDICULOUS (I have friends in lots of industries, and NO ONE was ever offered an 8 or even a 6 percent raise -- and only a handful of people I know ever get offered a bonus, so don't give me that line of bull. And no one I know will get the option to retire at 55, so FUCK OFF transit workers -- I actually spat that at the TV this morning when they showed them picketing.) makes me want to find a way to erase all of them from their jobs completely and start from scratch. The lot of them have the city by the balls, they know it, and they can walk out/let their employees walk out, all the while whining about what the other side is or isn't doing, seemingly not caring that they have a fucking monopoly on transportation in NYC and people who need to get into the city to make their money or kids who need to get to school can't because of this. THAT pisses me off.

But maybe not as much as George Pataki and Bloomberg sitting back and not stepping in -- get your god damn political hands dirty, guys, and end this, you idiots.

All this has made me appreciate NJ Transit, and that's just scary.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Merry Christmas, Bitches!

That's right -- the Copy Department rocks tha party that rocks tha party. Or so we can claim as today, we were granted the 50 dollar Starbucks giftcard when our cubicle area won the office decoration contest, staving off a late rally by Ken dressed as a pregnant Santa and our Beauty/Health department's song-and-dance routine. It actually had us sweating a bit because everyone was making such a fuss over the latecomers (remember, we decorated over a week ago, and lots of people only started decorating today). At one point, Rana was going over to talk to Ken and Art was like "Is she going to throw a bucket of blood on him?" because I think he knew what we were capable of anything at that point. Then the Judging Crew came around, while I was in the bathroom of course, and they were admiring the fact that we were all wearing holly-garland crowns (shut up -- it worked!), and when they asked if we had any final words to sell them on our area, Rana was like "we'll let the decorations speak for themselves." As they say on Family Feud, "good answer, good answer!"

We were made to angst ever so slightly as it took awhile for them to go around and check every area. Then we gathered in our conference room to celebrate the December birthdays, and then the bestest decorating proclomation. As our editor-in-chief ran down the list of honorable mentions, which first included Ken, and then the Beauty/Health area, I nudged Rana because that could only mean one thing -- and when our EIC was like "I think everyone knows who's going to win this...the Copy Department" and everyone cheered for us, well, it was quite a victorious moment. Because Copy Editors are usually (and mostly unintentionally so, it's not a malicious thing) a very over-looked department. And this time, by keeping our eyes on the prize, we came out on top and got noticed for something good instead of something like a missing comma. How's that for an underdog story, Red Sux?

A Phone I'd Really Like to Throw

Please explain -- what is the big fucking deal if Joe Torre calls a player to try and sell them on New York? Because if he hadn't everyone would be whining that the Yanks didn't "do enough" to get whatever flavor of the month people are lusting after. Why aren't people screaming that Jeter didn't do his part by inviting Nomar out to party? Or yelling at Moose because he didn't show Nomar that you CAN in fact blow off the NY media? Why is Joe Torre doing his part of the job worth so much fan bile? If you were looking for a job somewhere, wouldn't YOU want the dude who's supposed to be your supervisor making an effort to talk to you beforehand? It's been the standard procedure in any job interview I've gone on, but what the fuck do I know?

And also, the last time I checked, it's not Joe's fault Nomar LIKES SOCAL BETTER THAN NYC. What, is he supposed to re-write history and have Nomar grow up in Jersey instead of California? Is Joe responsible for the fact that Nomar has the presence of mind to know he doesn't want to deal with the New York media? Is Joe the one pulling the strings on all these deals and not, say, the rest of the Yankee front office? There is only so much he can say, people. The money isn't his, you know.

And let's not forget players have minds of their own, just like you do. If you're getting job offers from around the country, but you know where you're most comfortable, is it the recruiter's fault you end up somewhere else? Especially if you may have been using your other offers to drive up your asking price?

Right. Joe's just clueless and dumb and shouldn't be managing this team, because omygod, a fan could do it SO MUCH BETTER.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

A TurDuckEn in HoBokEN

"It's Christmas Day!'' said Scrooge to himself. "I haven 't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!''

"Hallo!'' returned the boy

"Do you know the Poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the corner?'' Scrooge inquired.

"I should hope I did,'' replied the lad.

"An intelligent boy!'' said Scrooge. "A remarkable boy! Do you know whether they've sold the prize Turkey that was hanging up there? Not the little prize Turkey; the big one?''

"What, the one as big as me?'' returned the boy.

"What a delightful boy!'' said Scrooge. ``It's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!''

"It's hanging there now,'' replied the boy.

"Is it?'' said Scrooge. "Go and buy it!"

....Here's the Turkey. Hallo! Whoop! How are you! Merry Christmas!''

It was a Turkey! He never could have stood upon his legs, that bird. He would have snapped 'em short off in a minute, like sticks of sealing-wax.
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

So awhile ago Jesse started planting the seed that it would be awesome to try a TurDuckEn. And a few weeks ago we were all intrigued enough to decide to serve one at our Hoboken Crew Christmas dinner. Jesse took the reins and ordered it online and kept us updated of its whereabouts as it traveled around the country to Hoboken. Christina intercepted it on its delivery day, in all it's dry ice glory, and it was so big, it couldn't fit in the freezer. But the nice TurDuckEn people assured them that it was OK to keep in the fridge for a few days, as it needed to defrost anyway.

Since Liana and Eric have the biggest table out of all of us (Pottery Barn -- woo!), we decided to have our little feast at their place, with each of us bringing a side dish. Jesse lugged the TurDuckEn over this morning and when I arrived at 3, the bird had been cooking for a little over two hours. We didn't eat till 8, y'all. That's how much time this behemoth needed to cook. Here's how it went down via photos:

Jesse checks on his new friend, wondering where the hell the juices are. He soon finds them when he plunges a meat thermometer straight through the middle, and the thing starts GUSHING. It still has two hours to cook at this point.

See? It looks just like a turkey! Now you can say you've seen one if someone should ask!

The menfolk gather 'round in their meat-driven curiosity.

And this is what one looks like when it's cut in half (there are no bones inside). I know it doesn't look too appetizing here, but I found it very tasty and well-seasoned -- though I'm convinced there was more duck than chicken, which The Chicken was glad to hear.

We had lots of awesome side dishes and lots of alcoholic beverages and lots of f'ing amazing desserts. It was quite the feast, and because there were lots of friends, fun and memories around, it was certainly a finger lickin' good time.

God bless us everyone.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Paging My Male Audience

So, I recently saw the movie The Warriors for the first time and all I can say is: BWAH! Where has this movie been my whole life? It might just be the most unintentionally hilarious thing I've ever seen, perfect for watching with others and snarking left and right. I mean a gang dressed up as baseball players? A gang dressed up in leather vests and NO SHIRTS? HEEE!!!! But I don't think that's the reason the fans at imdb give it 7.3 stars and glowing reviews -- I think they take it seriously. I've also heard this is considered a "man's movie" so maybe I'm missing something? I just wanted to ask my male audience if you do like this movie, is it because it's so awesome in its whacked-outness or is there some deeper meaning that's going over my head? Please fill me in.

Fuck You, Lupicass

So for some stupid reason, I pick today to wander over to the Daily News for the first time in a LONG time today (I wanted to see if they had a transit strike front page since the Post sort of ignored it today), and I see this part of Lupicass' lede (the News posts these to "hook" you into reading the story, I guess)and if you ever needed any FURTHER proof that the man is totally an A-Rod hating psycho, I give you:

The Yankees better sign one of these guys, or Torre's postseason batting average is going to be worse than A-Rod's postseason batting average.

Can somebody of great journalistic rank PLEASE call Lupicass out on this? Because he's turned into this evil little troll that seriously needs to be knocked down a few pegs. The story is supposed to be about the Yanks not getting any deals done this offseason or something like that, yet he uses it as another chance to wipe his feet on Mr. Rodriguez. If any other columnist had written this I'd be like "weird analogy, but whatever" but since Lupicass has lost all credibility in my mind, this is just feeding that notion. And no, I didn't read the rest of the story -- the Daily News Sports section has become a total farce (hyping up the fact that the Yanks have done "nothing" when there isn't exactly much out there to begin with -- and no, I don't think signing Johnny Damon is the right thing, so I won't be disappointed if that "call" doesn't get returned). So if you see me make any mention of ever checking them out again, flog me.

But you want to know what the BEST part of this is? A-Rod's post-season batting average: .305. know the drill.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

A Shortstop Trine in New York?

The GQ boys of Baseball -- Nomar, A-Rod, and Jeter

Is it wrong that part of me wants the Yanks to pick up Nomar just because there was no chance in hell that these guys were EVER going to play on the same team together (you would've been dragged off to an asylum for even suggesting it) when this photo was taken? Also, you know George would bring in A-Rod and DJ for the Nomar-signing press conference, just for the photo ops alone, and that would be one backpage (who are we kidding -- if there's no transit strike or breaking news it would be a front page too) I'd need for my collection.

I'm not sure what Nomar still has left in the tank, but the fact that he had so many teams interested in him makes me think the scouts saw something there. I'd be willing to give him a chance in New York for the right deal, especially since it would be nice to give Jeter and A-Rod a day off in the field every now and then...with an All-Star caliber back-up. I know lots of fans are hesitant because of what he pulled the night of the July 1st game by sitting out and pouting, but then think about it -- Nomar has ALWAYS seemed like a classy guy (the only Sux guy I have never had anything bad to say about in recent years) and he was surrounded by guys who were...not so much like him (For example, I could never see Nomar taking pot-shots at A-Rod when he should've been savoring his fucking World Series ring, like some people we know). I know everyone thinks the Sux series run without him means he was a clubhouse cancer or something, but I see it as a guy who just didn't fit in with the in-your-face "working class" cowboyupness. I'd probably be pouting too if I had to work with Curtass.

So, yeah, if he ends up in Pinstripes, I'd be willing to take a wait-and-see approach with him -- because if he ends up having a mind-blowing year, it's good for the Yanks and it's a great comeback story for a decent guy. (And do you see how adorably happy the three of them look together? Squee!)


I am way too buzzed right now for a person who hasn't eaten dinner. But our office karaoke party was nothing short of awesome (hence why it took me 20 minutes to type this sentence). I left only because the room was starting to spin ever so slightly, and apparently I've missed Jason "dancing on a banquette" (the current trend for tabloid celebs) with our editor in chief -- damn!. And OMG -- I do believe Rana, Jason, Chris M. from our pull-out mag and myself screamed sang Take My Breath Away because Elizabeth had originally submitted Jason and Art's name for the song, but Art had to leave to catch his train and the rest of us didn't want to leave Jason up there by himself. I think we may have been inspiring -- lots of people sang along. Also, Jason told me his copy editor love for me was as deep as some river I couldn't hear him name so I supplied "As deep as centerfield in Yankee Stadium?" and he was like "Yeah! That deep!" and I think I told one of the guys who interviewed me that I was really, really, really happy with the job (I hadn't even touched a drink yet) and he seemed really happy to hear that, and Rana, Ken and I toasted to our leaping from one mag to another and making the most of it and then I remember Rana and Elizabeth singing Pat Benatar's "Invincible" and I acted raised my arms in the air like a hairband concert chick and almost took out some guy who was crashing our party in the process. I think I also lost my scarf at the party.

How in the name of hell am I getting up in the morning?

ETA: It's not the fact that you can "see our tonsils" (per Rana) that makes this photo so special -- it's Axl Rose's crotch lingering above our heads there (and it made an appearance in probably half of the 500 photos taken last night).


Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Why Not Ask Tony Soprano to Play, Too?

I want to know why it's such a big f'ing deal if A-Rod plays for the Dominican Republic in this World Cup thing (as people were flipping out about this during the season, and it's the only headline I've seen about the WC so far), because ohmygod, he's really American, but nobody says boo about ALMOST THE ENTIRE ITALIAN TEAM BEING AMERICAN BORN. Yeah, it would be like me going over there to play for them because I'm half Sicilian. So how is it wrong for Mr. Rodriguez to play for the country of his parents' birth, and not for these dudes who are on this team only because their last names end in vowels?

This is where I think the tournament is stupid. If you don't have enough natural-born players from a country, like Italy, DON'T HAVE A TEAM FROM THERE. The Italians who actually, you know, live in Italy probably couldn't care less anyway. It was dropped as an Olympic sport because Europeans won't embrace it, remember?

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Tangled Up in Christmas

Because I couldn't leave my Derek Jeter ornament unadorned...


Monday, December 12, 2005

A Very Copy Christmas

Check it out -- a few weeks ago, I guess someone in my office must have bragged that they could decorate their cubicle the most awesomest for Christmas or something, because it was decided that we would have an office-wide decorating competition. The winner gets a $50 giftcard to Starbucks, which is always handy when half the people in New York survive on caffeine alone. Anyway, since we have a ton of wall space in my department, we decided to go in as a group threat, splitting the giftcard should we win. And the other day, we had a massive amount of down-time, so the decorating began in earnest:


This is the entry way into our area, and if you can see the god-like glow at the top of the photo, that's the glare given off by our icicle lights. They seriously added some really nice lighting effects into our florescent lit area (good call,Rana). We decorated some of the walls with the snowflakes that Rana, Jason and I sat around making out of un-used print-outs of pages with celebrities on them, as if we were in kindergarten. Rana made one that unfortunately cut-out Naomi Watts' stomach completely (but who can see the photo correctly when the paper's all folded?) and Art was like "this looks like something a stalker would make" so Jason tried to hide that one in the back. Actually, I think Art thought we were going to turn the place into something that resembled an opium den or something, because he kept glancing at our efforts warily. I think he was just scared that the rest of the office would be so jealous of our department's fantastic efforts that they would try to off us in some way (you think I'm kidding?).


Here we have my cubicle, where you can see the magical icicle lights better. Behind me is this door that's supposed to lead to the outside (I think it actually leads to a secret world, like Narnia, but it's sealed shut so we'll never know), and which everyone knocks on when they forget their key cards because they know we are a bunch of nice people and will let them in the other door nearest to us. Anyway, Rana decided we should wrap it like a present, but the door is huge and our paper didn't cover it. So we decided to make it a message saying our magazine "loves" something. We sat for hours thinking up things (Beard Papas cream puffs, Satan-transposed-to-be-Santa and "knockers" -- the key card forgetting kind, not the other thing. Get your mind out of the gutter -- were all nixed) before we settled on Chipotle. I'm telling you, it was a very slow day.


Those are the Christmas balls Jason bought and hung meticulously. He and I also climbed all over everyone's desks to hang the icicle lights, and I can honestly say I've never stood on my desk at work before. And everyone pretty much ignored us, because this is a celebrity magazine in New York and people have seen weirder shit that this. Maybe that's why Jason lamented that we didn't have any Manheim Steamroller on hand. Art's reaction: "Who's Manheim Steamroller?" Oh, if he only knew.

Anyway, when all was said and done, we had a pretty winter wonderland in our desolate little area. And the awesomeness DID scare people -- the photo department nervously scoffed that they wouldn't spend money to win a giftcard (and we all think they're lying and busting out with something later this week, but trying to throw us off, as photo editors are sneaky like that), and Carolyn V. sent Art an e-mail declaring war on our department (she bragged to Rana that she had the competition in the bag) and sent Jason a nice little note saying he sucks. I think she was only half kidding on both counts.

But it just goes to show you that the often overlooked copy department can channel Martha Stewart every now and then...and we're not even finished yet.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

Does This Make Me Larry?

So there was just a lot of banging on doors and outdoor voices going on upstairs. And it's not even in the dead of night! I'm wondering how these guys can live together if they dislike each other so much...but I'm guessing if it keeps up, something's gotta give. Otherwise, I give them a lot of credit for staying somewhere so tense....

Will there be a recast in my neighbors' apartment? Will Chewboken be replaced by a similar looking guy with the same personality named Hobacca, a la Chrissy and Cindy?

When George Starts Signing Your Checks, Let Me Know

To all the people getting in touch with their inner-GM and screaming for Brian Cashman to make a trade so the Yanks can get a center fielder -- who the hell do you get to replace the guys you traded? Because any big-shot outfielder is going to come for the Wang and/or Cano price tag. And right there you lose not only two of the brightest spots to come out of the Yankee farm system in a long, long time, but you also lose your FOURTH MAN IN THE ROTATION AND YOUR SECOND BASEMAN. Who, preytell, do you get to take their places? And I know if the Sux somehow land Tejada, people are going to be throwing even more temper tantrums that the Yanks "haven't done anything" this offseason. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was about keeping up with the Joneses and not doing what's best for your team -- a team, I may remind you, that DID make the playoffs last year. And last time I checked, they lost in the first round not because they didn't have a "legit" center fielder, but because the entire team decided to slump at once....with the exception being Cano. And I don't know if the Yanks even make the playoffs without Wang stepping up big-time in the regular season. So, lay it on me -- who do you get to replace these two extremely valuable pieces of the puzzle after you've dumped them for a guy who's probably going to come here and play one season, not "adjust" to New York, and end up in a different uniform for 2007 (as is generally the case when the Yanks let go of a prospect to get a high-priced bandaid on their field)?

You know, as much as I love the hot-stove talk and the tossing around ideas as to what could help the Yanks win and possible trades, etc., I can't help but feel that in recent years, it's gotten out of control. Especially the second-guessing and criticizing. I understand where it comes from -- I mean, we all want to see the Yanks succeed and shut everyone the fuck up -- but I feel like it's gotten to a ridiculous level. I'm not sure if it stems from the fact that the Yanks were so successful for so long that I don't remember what it's like for fans to behave this way, or if maybe the internet has become a springboard for such demanding debate as it allows anyone with an opinion to put it out there without having to be a Lupicass or John Heyman, etc. I also wonder how much fantasy baseball factors into it, as I've actually seen people power trip over the success of their roto-team, and perhaps this makes some folks think they can run a major league franchise or something.

Now, don't think I hate the idea of criticizing Yankee moves or wondering what would make the Yanks better. (I do love, love, love Lupe's idea for David DeJesus in Pinstripes, for example, and not just because I think he's dreamy, but because she lays out a very well-thought out idea). But I don't like that people seem to think what goes on in Brian Cashman's office is so cut-and-dried. I mean, I question the teams motivations sometimes too, but I realize that I got my degree in English and not in business management with minors in MLB wheeling and dealing and stress management. There's a reason I'm a copy editor and not a Major League Baseball GM, and it's the same reason Brian Cashman has this job and the rest of us are fans -- because he's better at it than us. Shocker!

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Are We Watching the Same Team?

Over at Bronx Banter today, commenters are flipping out over Bernie being offered arbitration. They all seem to think this means he's going to get a lot of playing time, when apparently one of the terms is a huge salary cut and yes, limited playing time. The Yanks want him in a "Ruben Sierra" capacity, which I see not as "A dude who can hit you a dinger in a pinch hit situation" but "A good clubhouse presence" (especially since Sierra started taking lots of young players under his wing). So what's the big f'ing deal? Especially if he's coming cheap? I feel like I can count on both hands the times we saw Ruben play last year, so no, I don't think Bernie's going to take playing time away from that second coming of Joe DiMaggio, whoever that may be, when all is said and done.

And yesterday, when it looked like Bernie wasn't coming back at all, I was trying to figure out if Bernie's number should be retired. I went over all his awesome stats in my head (many comparable to Jeter's, and if you ask anyone if his number will get retired, he's a lock) and this is the one that sticks out the most: 4th all time on the Yankees hit list, behind Gehrig, Ruth and Mantle, and ahead of DiMaggio, Mattingly and Berra (all three of whom are retired in Monument Park). If you can retire Reggie Jackson's number, after his whopping five seasons in pinstripes, you can retire Bernie's for this stat alone. So let it be written, so let it be done.

What About Prom, Chewboken? What About Prom?!

I didn't think there could be anything worse than being woken up by your neightbors slam-dancing or the echo of their rolling chairs. Oh, but there is -- your neighbors screaming at each other, their main piece of dialogue being "fuck off", at 2:30 in the morning. You know, I've never formally met Chewboken and his counterparts, but they have more drama up there than Ike and Tina Turner. Judging by the high-school girl yelling I hear them do in their apartment, I'm assuming they don't like each other very much. Which is all well and good, but don't go all telenovela bizatch on each other when it's TWO FUCKING THIRTY IN THE MORNING. Makes me even more pissed about their banging on the floor the other night when they pull shit like this....

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

It's Chicken-y and it's Soupy, but it's Not Chicken Soup

Yeah, so today marks the first time in nearly a year that I've had deli soup. But it's not the chicken soup that will forever remind me of the night my stomach bitch-slapped me. It's called chicken pot pie, just like the insides of a real chicken pot pie (which I still eat) but it's reminding me too much of the everyday chicken soup that would not stop coming up and I only got through half of it. Sigh. I'd wanted a nice cream of potato soup (which is about as far from chicken noodle as you can get), but for some reason, New York delis in my hood don't know how to make it. So I went with the next option and now I'm having flashbacks and I'm trying to drown them by chugging Coke.

I'm so not ready. Maybe I will never be. And that sucks when it's so cold outside and the Soup Nazi just opened a location around the block from us. Ugh.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Passing Thought of the Day

What I wouldn't give to hear A-Fed sing Oh Holy Night, the ultimate yuletide power ballad...

Monday, December 05, 2005

Last Call


If you want the Yankee Chicken to spend the holidays with you -- via Christmas Card, that is. He's way too busy to visit with you personally -- e-mail by Friday.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Cookies for Dinner, Followed by a Bath in Beer

So we are trying to figure out what to do with the excess of food and beer right now. Seriously, I have only ingested cookies today, as baked goods are covering half of every surface in my apartment. The keg is sitting there all forlorn, and we actually have to have people over tonight, on a school night, in an effort to try and kick it.

Anyway, just a few photos from last night, as I forgot about my camera until around 12:15, when our upstairs neighbors started banging on their floor (our ceiling). We were like "what the fuck?" because 1 )It was relatively early and our music wasn't even loud 2) The party they had last month was just as loud, and we got to hear the clickety-clack of high heels all fucking night and didn't complain and 3) Are you KIDDING ME? Chewboken wakes me up at least once a week with his stomping/rolling chair action, usually at 4 a.m. on a Thursday, and Carolyn and Melissa have had the rolling chairs from rolling hell wake them up too. And yeah, they were invited, and all they had to do was come down and say "could you keep it down?" (even though I'm not sure there was anything TO keep down, as it was just lots of people talking that constituted the noise) and we would've been perfectly neighborly about it...instead of ignore it, like we did because we are seriously owed by them, man. Anyway. I stomped over to my room to grab my camera because I needed to document this party just to show how tame it was. Visual proof is always a nice help in not thinking you're crazy.

That's our lovely tree. We bought it from a guy wearing a Yankee hat, so you know it's got to be awesome.

That's Ken (with whom I share the same taste in men), Rana, Julianna and Erica. And just know when I came back to them later, Erica had somehow acquired bangs.

Why, Jesse and Vicki look deep in serious conversation. What could they be talking about? The war in Iraq? Bird flu? Levels of respect for the Indiana Pacers?

Of course when there's a hockey stick anywhere within reach, the Canadian is going to pick it up. And look menacing.

What's Liana looking so amused at...

...why it must be the most incriminating photo of the evening! As Rick said, both he and Eric could never run for president with this photo out there. Well, Eric couldn't anyway -- but as Rick put it, he's hanging out with an "alien" in this photo and that trumps all other taboos that might be going on here.

It Must Be Chrismukkah

Oh my god -- it's SNOWING!

Oh my god -- it's 4:30 in the morning!

Oh my god -- we have at least 1/3 of a keg left.

There will be more of a wrap-up of Chrismukkah, 2005 later, but I must say it was one of our awesomer parties as it was no where near as packed as last year and everyone appeared to be having a good time (or was at least very drunk. But obviously not off the keg) and we have no mini hotdogs left to speak of, which is always a sign of successful partying.

For now, I leave you with the wisdom of Rick: "Home is where your underwear is."

Friday, December 02, 2005

Flash! Ahhhhh-Ahhhhh!

So long, Flash. I will miss the random bursts of Queen following your strikeouts at the Stadium. It always succeeded in cracking up the season ticket crew.

Keeping the "Hypocrite" in Christmas

This article confuses the hell out of me. You'd think the Catholic League or whomever would want the whole Call it Christmas thing to be out and about because we wouldn't have the holiday without that dude Christ being born on Dec. 25, and maybe the holiday should be less about retail and more about remembering that. But then it seems they want it to be all about marketing things for Christmas BUYING, which is really NOT what the true meaning of Christmas is about...or at least that's what I learned in CCD. Even if I don't mind that the holiday has become a lot about giving and receiving, I'd think the big wig Catholics wouldn't be too turned on by that.

But my favorite part of the story?:
Christmas songs and trees are two of the things Victoria's Secret won't be bashful about in its lingerie show airing Tuesday on CBS. "The day is called Christmas. ... It all gears to Dec. 25," says Ed Razek, chief marketing officer.

Yeah, because when I think Christmas, I think jugs. Rolls eyes Maybe they'll have Gisele dressed as the Virgin Mary in a circa-B.C. diamond-encrusted IPEX bra, too...

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Rambo, You're the Inspiration

So AFI is doing a list that almost guarantees that the Godfather, Gone With the Wind and Casablanca WON'T be in the top 10, which, as much as I love those movies, is kind of refreshing. And there should be a crapload of sports movies on this list, as most of their plots center around, you know, inspiring. These are just the ones that spring to mind off the top of my head:

Pride of the Yankees (should be in the Top 10, just for the speech alone)
Rocky (My pick for No. 1)
The Natural (the music of which you are listening to right now)
Field of Dreams
The Karate Kid
Brian's Song
Hoosiers (Totally top 10 material)
Breaking Away
Chariots of Fire

I have a feeling any movie Jimmy Stewart ever starred in will be in the top 20; And Braveheart will probably be up there. But there are a few head-scratchers in the list of nominees. Like, how in the name of GOD is Dirty Dancing even nominated? Because while it's one of my fave movies (shut up), the big old lift at the end there never really deeply inspired me or anything. Ferris Bueller's Day Off? Maybe it inspired a lot of faking sick and hooky playing. Rambo: First Blood, Part II???? Then again, the list of nominees is shorter than the other lists they've had, so maybe they were scraping the bottom of the barrel. At least I hope so.


If you are hearing the the dulcet tones of my darling A-Fed, then your computer is compatible with the awesome media player Beth hooked me up with. I'll get more time to play with it later, so be ready!