Sunday, December 30, 2007

Heartstrings Were Tugged, People

So, I watched the movie Once today, and while I'm not going to go all Oprah on you and give the plot away, I will say I was quite moved by it. The following is a clip from Letterman of a lovely song that's also performed in the movie. Go rent it, yousguys.

Saturday, December 29, 2007

It Can't End Soon Enough

Stealing this from Rana, as I usually end the year with wrap-up survey. June, we shall have to come up with our own super awesome questions to start 2008.

Where did you begin 2007?
In my old apartment with some people who tried to burn the place down while making S'Mores.

What was your status by Valentine's Day? My "status" was "happy" because Spring Training was beginning.

Were you in school (anytime this year)? The school of life, man (all year long).

Did you have to go to the hospital?
No. Grey's Anatomy has turned me off to them.

Did you know anybody who got married?
Carolyn married Rick, and Tonya married Brent. I came close to marrying my Kitchen-Aid mixer, but apparently that's not allowed.

Did you know anybody who passed away?
Not personally

Did you move anywhere? To my awesome spinster hut (my equivalent of a bachelor pad)/petting zoo in JC.

What sporting events did you attend? Eric's hockey games, the horse races, and some big, bright and loud place in the Bronx. That frustrating visit in October was quite dejecting.

What concerts did you attend? Stevie Wonder with Dexter and Vicki.

Describe your birthday?
Well, the party that preceded it was awesome, but the actual day itself, aside from being 80 degrees and sunny, sucked, as I came down with the flu because I had apparently turned 83 and not 30.

What's the one thing you thought you would not do but did in 2007?
Go to Cooperstown (thanks, D&V!). As a result, I got to honor all of baseball's greats and give the Bloody Sock the finger in person.

What has been your favorite moment(s)? Seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time; being at A-Rod's 500th homer game (and being at the games preceding it, particularly the one with Ken's family in which the Yankees hit 8 homers. In the game.); Harry Potter Midnight Madness with Erica, then devoting pretty much the entire weekend to reading it.

Any new additions to your family?
Jen L. is joining Erica, Steph and me in our season-ticket family.

What was your best month?
Aside from Erica announcing that she was moving to Harlem, May was pretty great.

What music will you remember 2007 by?
"Sunny Afternoon," by the Kinks.

Who was your best drinking buddy? Jason, because I'm not sure I ended up at karaoke bars singing "Sloop John B" and "The Lady is a Tramp" with anyone else.

Did u make any friends?
Uh, when did Prince take over this survey?

Favorite night out?
Jesse's birthday, when we all got a little tipsy and had to run for the PATH, and Art's farewell drinks outing, which, hell yeah!

Overall, how would you rate this year? Two thumbs down. It had a few bright spots, but the plot introduced too many sucky moments for my liking.

Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? The supermarket.

Change your hairstyle? No, I changed my address, which is awesomer.

Do you have a New Year's resolution? To see the Yankees win the World Series this October.

Buy anything new from eBay? No, but it did come in handy when searching for kitchen tables.

Get married or divorced? I swear to god, I hope a teenager didn't make this up.

Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
I don't know what you're talking about. I think I was only bitter about some chick being voted off because the voices in my head told me to be.

Did you get sick this year? Literally and figuratively.

Been snowboarding? No, should I have?

Are you happy to see 2007 go?
Don't let the door hit you on the way out, beeyotch!

Been naughty or nice?
Nice. And any naughty behavior on my part was totally warranted.

Quotes of the Day

"The Bronx Zoo? It's the people you've got to watch out for there, not the animals." -- Production Guy Jeff, advising a tourist on the phone.

"Be good...or be good at it." Mona the Mets fan, saying goodbye to someone for the weekend.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

On Scripted Football and Feeling Like a Tackle Dummy

So, on the recommendation of, like, everyone, I am now watching Friday Night Lights. Holy eye candy, Batman! And the show itself is actually...good? I think I am shocked by this because I thought the movie, which I couldn't sit through, was pretentious and over-the-top (and I hate that they use it as an "Inspiration" montage at Yankee games. Hi, it's football and the Yankees play baseball. Or am I missing something? Testosterone, maybe?) The show seems more humanized without losing the football-y edge. And Kyle Chandler is better looking than Billy Bob Thornton, but that goes without saying.

Also, I love that I got the flu for my birthday and now a nice bad-ass head cold for Christmas. 2007? You can seriously bite me.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Quote of the Other Day

"They need more manly-man scents, like motorcycle exhuast." -- Man shopping with his daughter in Yankee Candle Company.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Westward, Ho!

Man, have I found a reason to fully adore Facebook outside of Scrabulous: Oregon Trail!!!! I am currently a wagon leader (as well as a passenger on Elizabeth, Vicki and Colette's Wagons) and it's just as awesome as it was on the Apple II in my fourth grade "computer lab." I mean, people still get sweet diseases like cholera (sorry, Rana) and measles (sorry, Vicki) and get lost (thanks for holding us up, Chris) and dysentery has now been replaced by "explosive diarrhea" (man, I hope it wasn't all that buffalo meat I killed for us, Colette).

I do miss hunting stick-figure "deer" though. It's a lot easier when your target is huge and you're using a mouse as a "gun" as opposed to the arrow keys or space bar or whatever we used before...

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Happy Holidays! And Shut Up, Curtass' Blog Post

As ridiculous as I think Curtass calling out Roger on the steroids thing is, I found this even more...ridiculous:

Schilling noted in the 3,200-word posting that he was a fan of the seven-time Cy Young Award winner who owed much of his success to a stern talking-to he received from Clemens when Schilling was a young pitching prospect.

3,200 words? To put that in perspective, note that my longest blog post ever, My A-Rod Magnum Opus of Defenditude clocked in at 2,719 words. And that took me several weeks to write.

But I guess when you are holier-than-thou you really do have a lot to say, you know?

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

How Can You Name the Top 100 Songs of the 90s...

...and not have one song by Boyz II Men on it? Come ON, VH1. I mean, you couldn't escape "End of the Road" in 1992, with all its earnestness and oh my god we can't break up sentiments. I mean, I think it may have had a hand in getting A-Rod to realize he didn't want to break up with the Yankees. (In his 60 Minutes interview, they showed him in a batting cage listening to some really cheesy 90s song that escapes me right now, but made me bust out laughing at the time, so anything is possible.) And I think "I'll Make Love to You" was even more inescapable -- it was like No.1 for three months or something. That's a quarter of an entire year, and it's not represented?

Also, argyle and matching your outfit to your baseball hat and your fellow bandmembers and walking sticks are some things that should be celebrated. You know?

Watching this countdown has made me realize, however, that many of these songs never would've reached the airwaves today because some of the singers, who look like they're, gasp, pushing 30, would be deemed too old for the teen set and therefore unmarketable. I mean, I don't know how I made it through my teen years having to listen to people who were, like, 32 on death's door....

Guilty

So, uh, I'm totally watching Clash of the Choirs. And despite the annoyingness of Maria Menounous and the semi-sappy nature of the show, I'm liking it. Sue me.

And if Patti LaBelle's jaw-droppingly awesome choir could follow me around and just sing for inspiration when needed, my life would rule.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

GAWD

Katie Couric is the most unconvincing sports interviewer EVER.

Deep Thoughts For the Big, Bad Nor'easter

You know what I've noticed lately? That rebels may be just as sad as conformists. I work and spend a lot of time in New York City, the rebel/conformist mecca, so I've had time to observe both equally. When I see people trying really hard to be different (as I did tonight in Union Square -- and, sidebar, I've decided I hate any area of the city with the word "Square" in it, as they will usually be crowded as all get out and thus imposible to walk through), I wonder if they are doing it for themselves or to just not be like the conformists. Like, if the latter is the case, you're still not being yourself, and that's just as bad as anyone who tries to be like everyone else. I know, it's dizzying. But it would be nice if everyone could just like themselves for who they are, you know? /Pollyannaish ramblings.

Also, I've had a Michael Cera fix and saw Juno tonight. It was freaking adorable. And it has one of the best quotes of the year from film (or at least from the ones I've seen). It's uttered by Juno's dad, played awesomely by J.K. Simmons, when Juno asks him how people can stay together forever: "Look, in my opinion the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what-have-you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out of your ass."

That was kind of my theory on love anyway, so I'm glad someone else can back it up on celluloid.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Quotes of the Night

"It's like November Sweeps...and it's not even November!" -- Ken

"They look like they would have weird sex things." -- Ken again, on a couple from House Hunters International.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Bah Humbug, Indeed

Dear god, why are there so many versions of that craptacular song "My Grown Up Christmas List" out there right now? I swear, there are like 50 different artists who have jumped on the train to espouse this drek. I mean, the idea is nice and all, that you want peace on earth and goodwill toward men (although, it has been said already in other, much better songs, hasn't it?) but Jesu Christo is it one of the worst-written songs out there. Study the chorus:

No more lives torn apart
And wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end
This is my grown up christmas list


That "And right would always win" is my favorite, favorite part, because, really, who is to say what is right and wrong? Like, if "right" were to "always win" in my book, the Yankees would have a World Series trophy every year. I think fans of the 29 other teams might beg to differ. Also, wishing love would never end is pretty priceless (in the blandest way possible) too. Are there no better ways to express these sentiments than with a bunch of rhyming words slapped together?

Considering I embrace Christmas and all the cheese that must come with it, I am a little surprised that I have little patience for this song. But then I remember all the good Christmas songs out there that actual, you know, rule, and don't sound as if they were slapped together by a bunch of stoned kindergarteners and I am okay with not liking it.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

How Can I Take The Mitchell Report Seriously...

...when two of the guys on the "leaked" list are DEAD? Ken Caminiti and Darryl Kile...man, I hope they get what's coming to them.

Also disappointing is the number of retired players listed. Like, I'm sure Lenny Dykstra is shaking in his shoes right now.

But I do like saying "I told you so" about Clemens....


ETA: And the winners losers are..... I felt like Scarlett O'Hara scanning the list of the dead at Gettysburg for Ashley Wilkes' name. I'm glad to say no one I'm particularly attached to is on there (I love Andy, but this is what he gets for being Roger Clemens' toadie), but man is this list LAME. Tejada and Roberts seem to be the only current big-impact names on there. The rest reads like a bunch of D-list celebrities and "OMG! I NEED HIS BASEBALL CARD IT'LL BE WORTH SOMETHING...circa 1993." Methinks there was lots of covering up going on here, or that the A-list players just fly under the radar a lot better than their poorer counterparts. I'm sure Selig will pat himself on the back for getting to the bottom of this, and smoking them out of their holes or whatever. Seriously. Whatever.

Though it is very klassy that the dead guys weren't named on here, if they were ever under suspicion to begin with.

Also, I suspect that the Yankees announced the A-Rod deal today to take attention away from whatever Yankees got outed on that list. I highly doubt the $275 million contract even makes the backpages tomorrow though...

Ring-a-Ling-a-Ding-Dong-Ding



Since it's official now....

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Oh Christmas Tree(s)

So on Sunday, I went to get myself a real Christmas tree, as I'm not a fan of fake trees (and have nowhere to store one anyway), and when I got to the lot, the only trees that remained were giant Goliath-sized ones, which are not single-woman friendly. I mean, I'd have to get this thing home, up two flights of stairs and straight in the stand by my lonesome. You can't do that with a tree that out-weighs you. So I left the lot (the only one within walking distance of my apartment -- shyeah, not having a car sucks at that moment), feeling dejected that I may not have a tree to decorate for the first time in my 30 years.

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Well, what should be waiting for me when I get to work today? A little tree (and bear) courtesy of Dexter and Vicki, who must've sensed my dejectedness when I mentioned my plight. It came complete with lights and tiny ornaments, and I had a fun time humming Christmas carols (in my 82.3 degree cube) and thinking that I seriously have the rockingest friends on the planet.

But I am a stubborn ass and was not yet ready to give up the notion of an apartment tree. I figured if I passed the tree lot again tonight (they get more trees in every now and then) and saw one in the right size, I would get it. And lo and behold, I find a tree about my height that I can pick up and carry if I hug it to me and ignore the sap dripping in my face. I got it up the stairs and it was light enough to get straight in the stand all by myself and it has yet to topple over on top of me, so at least for that. So now you get my annual shake-the-camera-and-see-what-you-get portraits.

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Tuesday, December 11, 2007

"I'm Making Lasagna...For One"

This one goes out to my blog homegirl June. And also, to me. Because I said so.

Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)

Because you can never have enough of wall keyboards. And Journey. Happy Tuesday:

Sunday, December 09, 2007

He's On a Rollerquotester

Quote of the Night: "It's like a...friendly gang. Like from 'Beat It'." -- Dexter, describing his large birthday-party posse as we gathered to walk from one bar to a karaoke bar.

Honorable Mention: That'd be a spirited Ken, referring to me in the course of a half hour as "The Messiah," "Yoda," "a genius," "the Beethoven of Guitar Hero" and saying that I should run for president, among other complimentary things (especially being dumbfounded that Rana, Erica and I are boyfriendless, when we have nice bosoms or something). Because while none of what he said of me is true (except maybe the Yoda part -- because backwards sometimes I like to speak) it's always nice to hear that someone thinks you're wise, when there are times you certainly don't feel all that wisdom-full.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Quote of the Night

"Oh come on. He can say 'Au revoir, Mama' and leave her sleeping in French while he sneaks out." -- Dexter, to Liana, on getting Eric to ditch his visiting French-Canadian mother to come out and play Guitar Hero.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Time-less

The back of my watch popped off the other day, and I am currently doing without.

I am so, so lost without it.

Blah.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

BLARGH! The Revenge

I have a mouse.

Maybe for Christmas, I can find an alligator in my toilet.

Monday, December 03, 2007

BLARGH! Part Two

OH MY GOD. The centipede's carcass, which, as of yesterday, was where I left it, IS NOW GONE. And unless it has some Christ-like abilities, that means SOMETHING TOOK IT.

I'm officially frightened.

Bite Me, MLB Schedule Makers

So, if the Red Sox's schedule is correct, the Yankees will AGAIN have just one weekend series in the Bronx vs. the Red Sox (4th of July weekend) and THREE in Boston.

Can someone please explain to me what this is about? It's really pissing me and my Friday-night-ticket-holding self off.

And There Was Much Rejoicing



If you don't understand what this picture means…you just don't get it.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

A(nother) Day at the Races

Because you can't have enough of shady, growly men getting pissed off at horsies or overpriced bad food, Jason and I made another trip out to Aqueduct yesterday, because we were in search of some luck, man. Ken, who I met out after to celebrate his birthday, got excited at the thought that I might need an intervention, but then I explained that neither Jason nor I are going to be courted by a high-rollers club, or whatever the racetrack equivalent is, with our meager $2 bets and $4.10 winnings. Okay, Jason made more than that (he broke even. Not so much with his slice of pizza, though), but I did pretty poorly. Probably because I bet a lot of longshots in the hopes of scoring big or got behind horses with cool names (Yankee Chief, anyone?) But for some reason, despite all the shadiness and bad choices, I find the races soothing and enjoyable, probably because losing $20 on the day isn't going to get a shylock after me and I know when to call it a day. So, while a dramtic intervention in which goody-two shoes KB is the subject would be so, so cool, I will have to disappoint Ken on this one.

But the craziest part, which I'm becoming increasingly entertained and perplexed by, are the guys who lose and get all bent out of shape with the horse. Like, this one horse early on had been doing great in the beginning stages of his race, then fell out of contention near the end. Well, this gravely voiced, snot-hacking guy near us was all "Fucking prick number 7... Scumbag." Like, what is the horse supposed to do to make this guy feel better? Hop the fence and be all "Neigh, you want a piece of me? Neigh." and then the guy be like "Yeah, you just made me lose a month's pay, you Lasix-taking asshole" and then the horse would be like "Neigh, eat me" and a rumble ensues? I mean, here's a tip: the horse ain't the one who put the money down, pal. When you're betting on an animal these things happen. I mean, it gave us a good laugh, but god, you have to remember that these guys are taking it seriously enough to be cursing at a four-legged beast that craps while it walks. It's just kind of bizarre. But great blog material.

Anyway, afterward was Ken's dinner at this great Italian place that kept serving complimentary food, which left all of us skeptical New York-types to be like "what's this about?" and yes, it was indeed free. And then Steph, in her awesomeness, not only stealthily brought in cupcakes, but packaged them for everyone to take home. This is why we are friends.

Today? It's off for the annual TurDuckEn feast with the Hoboken Crew. Leftovers for everyone upon my return.

Friday, November 30, 2007

BLARGH!@!

OH MY EFFING GOD. After not seeing a cucaracha in my apartment since that one time, today I have to go and FIND A GIANT CENTIPEDE CRAWLING ON MY BED. I was not in it at the time, but I don't care. I haven't had to kill one of those since my freshman year of college, when they would endure many rounds of battle before they finally died (and sometimes come back to life), so when I saw it making its way across my pretty yellow plaid comforter, I had flashbacks and was completely freaked until I realized there was no one else who could dispose of it but me. So, as I "OMIGOD"-ed my way around my room (there is no better way to wake up my dormant helpless girly side than by introducing critters into my living space, I swear), I managed to chase it off the bed with the phonebook, and then it started crawling up my dresser, and I knocked it off with a shoe, and then because I have such terrible aim, it fell on the floor and I managed to squash it against the dresser and it was all just so, so disgusting. I can't even bring myself to pick up its carcass because if college taught me anything, it's that these things are never dead when you think they are. So I'm going to go to work and hope it's still dead by the time I come home tonight. Otherwise, I'm sleeping in the hallway.

Hold me.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Oh, Just Call Her His Ho Already and Be Done With It

So, there's this commercial for these special make-your-own Rudolphs at Build-A-Bear, and I'm completely weirded out that you can also make his "special friend Clarice." Special friend? Like, why can't they say "girlfriend"? Oh, excuse me, "doefriend?" Are they trying to pretend that cartoon reindeer don't have the hots for each other or something? I mean, I was 6 years old and the fact that they liked each other in that way didn't escape me and it didn't scar me for life or anything. I'm sure today's children, with their thongs for 5-year-olds and Grand Theft Auto: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood know what's going on too.

"Special friend." Pshaw.

Because I'm Curious

Someone from my office has been catching up over here lately. Who you be? Yer freaking me out, yo.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

My Not-So Grown-Up Christmas List

So, when I was at the old Bischer homestead this weekend, I went in search of my grandma's kitchen chairs to refinish for my new/old table. This required making my way around on my hands and knees through our übercreepy crawlspace, which hasn't been entered since, like, a time when the idea of the Yankees making the playoffs was a joke. In my quest to dig out the chairs (and not die at the hand of a stealth murderous lunatic making a home amongst the dust) I came across this envelope I'd fashioned out of hideous 1970s wallpaper for my dad for Father's Day, circa 1982. Inside the envelope was a variety of things, like my teeth for the Tooth Fairy (man, was that a blow after 30 years), report cards and standardized test scores. And a letter to Santa. Oh, yes, I ripped that sucker open, because, nothing says Blog Material like a 6-year-old's material hopes and desires.

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I think the North Pole is somewhere near Missouri and Oregon, if memory serves.

IMG_2003

As you can see, copy editing is CLEARLY in my future.

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Okay, let's ignore the fact that there are only 6 items listed here, because, really, the numbers were just there to show off my impressive ability to write numbers. And let's focus on TubTown -- because that gift rocked my world. Maybe it had something to do with my fascination with The Love Boat, but a cruise ship/seaside community that hooks onto your bathtub? Man could you come up with some crazy plots after washing your hair with a bar of soap. And you can't find it ANYWHERE now, even eBay. Oh, sure, there are re-incarnations of it, but nothing like what I had.

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Oh, yeah, and Speak and Math KICKED ASS. Santa, if you are checking up on me, forget the toaster and shower curtain, I would like another one of these, plese.

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If by "good girl" you mean "No, I won't open all my presents before my mommy and daddy wake up on Christmas Day out of consideration for their sleep needs, and this is what happens when you teach kids to read their name and tell them someone impartial is giving them presents," then yes, I was a "good girl" that year.

I don't know about this year. But I'll be waiting for that Speak and Math.

Because a Yankee Named Johan Would Rule. And Other Reasons

Must keep reminding self: They're only talking. "Talking" is what 7th graders called "dating" and we all know how long that lasted.

How is it only November 27? This offseason is taking WAY too long already.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Die, Onions, Die

Nothing good can come of onions. They make you cry (if you're not wearing contacts, anyway) and they stink up your living space (and anything else in their wake) after you've cooked them. If I actually wanted that, I'd find myself a sleazoid boyfriend or something. And what kind of masochistic recipe calls for four onions anyway? Never again.

Friday, November 23, 2007

The Early Bird Gets Christmas Cookies for Everyone!

Before today, I never understood why people felt compelled to get up at 3:30 a.m. on Black Friday so they could go get trampled over in pursuit of some random discounted product. But that was before I saw that Kohl's was going to have quite possibly the love of my cooking life, The Kitchenaid Stand Mixer, for the way, way decent price of $129 after a mail-in rebate. Melissa had one in the old place, and I miss it so. But, I'm no fool. I'm not going to wake up hours before the sun just so I can make Christmas cookies and cakes more easily. Nay, I slept till 6:30, was out the door by 7, and after having to find the Mixer under some lady's coat (she had placed all her junk on top of the display while she hemmed and hawed if she needed it or not. Like, if you have to ask yourself, don't bother. I have an utter distaste for the people who get these things and don't have an appreciation or even a use for them. Don't make a freaking mixer a status symbol, you know? /rant), I was out of the store by 7:20, home by 7:30, and back to bed.


You complete me.

The awesomest part is that when I woke up again and was fixing myself a leftover sandwich, my dad was flipping channels and what should be on the Science Channel? A How It's Made about the Kitchenaid Stand Mixer. And then, Ina Garten used hers (in which the numbers on the side are worn off because she actually, you know, uses hers) to make some creme brulee on The Barefoot Contessa. Like, the gods were telling me I made the right choice. Not that I needed to know it.

Also, the name Classic Plus is part of it, which means it could be a relation of the MovinCool Classic Plus 14. Which means it has a soul, yo.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Because It's Tradition Now

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Enjoy your third-annual viewing of the awesomely ugly Bischer turkey platter and have a terrific Turkey Day. I at least know June will be happy to see it.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

The Boss Has Left the Mouse-Infested Building

Scrooge, admiring his old boss Mr. Fezziwig in a vision of the past: "What a marvelous man."

Ghost of Christmas Past: "What's so marvelous? He's merely spent a few pounds of your mortal money, two or three perhaps. What is that to be worthy of so much praise?"

Scrooge:"You don't understand. He has the power to make us happy or unhappy, to make our work a pleasure or a burden. It's got nothing to do with money."


It is only fitting that I mark the departure of the head of the copy crew with a line from the Dickens classic A Christmas Carol, or one of the celluloid versions anyway, seeing as how Art may be the only person under the age of 50 who knows what I'm talking about when I quote it. Yes, Art is leaving us. It's all terribly depressing and we're all still kind of in denial about it. So much so, we all decided to go out and get obliterated last night to celebrate...his not leaving.

I'm remembering things in pieces, like Elizabeth asking Web Guy Mike if she could run her hands through his healthy head of steroid-induced hair, Art, Art saying a dirty word not once, but THREE TIMES (which I think stemmed from someone bringing up Production Guy Jeff's reasons for watching Ghost Whisperer), the copy department shot (the drink, not by a gun or something), Rana and I visiting the jukebox and picking Art inside-joke songs "Working for the Weekend" and "This Old Heart of Mine" and then only the latter song being played, in which Art could only hear the bass. Art holding himself up by railings, or at least I think that's what he was doing, and declaring his hatred for parades, an outing to the local karaoke bar, which we still have yet to get Art to do (he'd headed home at that point, hoping he wouldn't pass out and end up in Bayhead -- ingesting some granola bars apparently helped this to not hoappen), putting Elizabeth in a cab because I, with my woman's intuition and such, thought that she was sober, but Jason realized she needed a nicer way home than the subway.

The awesomest part? It wasn't even Art's last day. No, it's today. Shyeah. Alka-Seltzer.

And our new boss? That'd be Jason, with Elizabeth promoted to second-in-command. I asked them if their first order of business could be to get the copy department a hot tub. And a disco ball. I think I can totally sway them....

Monday, November 19, 2007

It's Kind of a Force of Habit Now Anyway

A-Rod hit .314 and led the majors with 54 homers and 156 RBIs. But he flopped again in the playoffs as the Yankees lost to Cleveland in the first round. He went 4-for-15 (.267) with one RBI against the Indians, is in an 8-for-59 (.136) postseason funk dating to 2004 and is hitless in his past 18 playoff at-bats with runners in scoring position.

Aaaaaand post-season stats have what, exactly, to do with the regular-season MVP award?

Aaaaaand I'm A-hyphen defending again. Am I allowed to do that yet?

It's That Time of Year Again

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I know Christmas is still a good month and five days away, but these things take time, yo. So, if you want a Chicken Holiday Card, e-mail your address to kabsy77@yahoo.com, and let The Chicken bring you some cheer. And no, he doesn't like figgy pudding.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

No Paul McCartney for "Ebony and Ivory" But...

I've just come home from the Stevie Wonder concert at MSG, and I wish there was some way to bottle up all the joyous and positive feelings oozing from the Garden and carry them around my neck, so as to sprinkle it on people and situations that are sucking in the future. Man, was it a good show. Probably the most boogeying down by a crowd I've ever seen at a concert, and good lord does Stevie still sound great. And also: Tony Bennett. And Prince. I mean, where else can you be having an awesome time at a show with a mustic legend, only to have two more (extemely different) music legends join on stage? Even the quiet middle-aged dude sitting next to me freaked out when Prince came in on guitar in "Superstion". And I thought the dude in front of Dexter was going to go into convulsions of delight when Tony Bennett appeared to duet on "For Once in My Life." Like, surprises like that RULE, man.

It was also nice that he did a full setlist, as opposed to the "sampler" shows I've seen in recent years where older artists only tease you with part of their songs and call it a night after an hour and a half. This was two and a half hours of great-sounding fun. I may be spoiled for other shows from here on in.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On. In My Living Room.

So I'm not sure if I should be freaked out by this or not, but every now and then my living room will start to shake slightly. Like, the walls will rattle and my picture frames and vases start to tinkle and my couch starts to vibrate and The Chicken runs to the doorway to protect himself. I'm beginning to wonder if I live on a fault line or if the PATH trains run under my apartment building or if Zuul is inhabiting my refrigerator and I'm going to have to have a rendevouz with the Keymaster at some point.

Now, I live two floors above a laundromat, and I know washing machines have a habit of making things shake sometimes, but don't you think that would have to be one hell of a spin cycle for me to feel it two floors up? And I've heard the neighbors doing the deed and that doesn't account for much except awkward. And it's not like there's construction going on, and oh yeah, why don't I get it anyhere else in the apartment? At least in my old place, if the walls were rattling, it was due to Chewboken making his way from one end of the apartment to the other.

Man, if only Unsolved Mysteries was still on the air....

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Analogy of the Day

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If anyone other than Steph and Tonya understands this, I will be impressed.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

I Want to Believe

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This is Derek Jeter. All alone. On the top of my computer. Where his onetime confidante and sleepover buddy once sat too. Said buddy was the normally pricey-ish Hallmark ornament I got at the ridiculously discounted price of $4.99 like a week BEFORE Christmas at the Monmouth Mall, in Yankee Territory N.J. Because a year ago, no one wanted Alex Rodriguez's squatting ass on their Christmas tree, or something. Because he was unclutch and could do nothing for his team. Anyhow, he joined the Captain on my screen (remember when they weren't speaking? God, that was a rough time) and there he sat until a few days after the Game 4 Announcement, when I got sad looking at him and relegated him to Headless Jason Giambi Ornament Territory: his box in my filing cabinet.

Today there are rumors that he is coming back, meaning peeling the tape from his feet and shoving him back into his cardboard womb and leaving him amongst extra moist towlettes and salt packets may have been a premature act on my part. However, I refuse to believe anything until I see it.

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So, A-Rod. Are you in, or are you out?

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Between This and the Scrabble, I'm Outting my Geekdom. And I Don't Care.

My mind is blown. Never in my life did I think I would find myself being completely absorbed in a graphic novel (considering the last time I read a comic book was when I was like 9, and that was about the proper care of goldfish, and I was strangely obsessed with it -- I know), so much so that when it was over (all 1332 pages of it), I'd actually be majorly bummed. But that is what happened after finishing Bone this evening. Knowing that I adore Harry Potter and anything with a bit of childlike whimsy, Jason lent it to me a little over a week ago, after going on and on about how awesome it was. I wasn't sure what to expect, since all I know about comics, particularly serial/epic ones, is stuff like Spider-Man and his ilk. But this story is so NOT like that, and I feel completely oblivious now, as I used to think that because anything had the word "comic" in it, it was probably about superheroes. The characters in Bone are vivid and brave like you'd expect, but they are relatable and likeable and even downright folksy -- and none of the main characters have over-the-top superhuman ability. Their quest is peppered with adorable side characters, and even some strangley hilarious villains and damn if there weren't some emotional moments. There's nothing overtly sexual about it (the main heroine, while pretty, isn't busting out of a 42 triple-D-cup bra or anything), so kids can enjoy it, and there's some nice lessons about friendship and loyalty. Sometimes, that's all you really need.

It's also made me realize what a great medium for storytelling it is. It uses dialogue to tell the story, but the detail in the drawings key you into what's going on below the surface. I don't know how I never noticed this before, but it's making me regret not learning how to draw better. And that I don't have a badass dragon looking out for me.

I don't know what I'm going to do now, but I have to say, The Kite Runner sure as hell isn't going to live up to this.

Pht is a Word?

Why, yes of course! If you're the sonofabitch "robot" I was playing against on Scrabulous, that is. Who needs a vowel? Or Merriam Webster for that matter?

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Sunday Bets

Horses wearing pretty colors! Shady, angry men shouting at televsions! Hot dog meals for almost 10 bucks! Convertible toilet/urinals in the ladies' bathroom! What did KB do today, you ask? Why, visit the Aqueduct racetrack of course! AND I WON, BITCHEZ.

But let me backtrack. It started when somehow we got on the topic of horse racing at work, and Production Guy Jeff told us about how he has a friend of a friend who owns a horse that was racing at Aqueduct this weekend. It was off of this that Jason (who, although being from Kentucky, had never been to a horse race, but he'd been reading a lot of Charles Bukowski and it had make him curious) and I (who have a strange love for horse racing) decided to make an outing of it.

First off, it's not that hard to get out there -- it's just a ride on the A train (though we took the wrong branch at first, missing the first two races as a result...which spared me from making a bad bet on a horse named Stud Muffin -- because that is quite the awesome name right there) and the stop is right off the park. It was chilly outside, but most of the park is indoors, and you can even view the horses in the saddling area from inside, which is nice. But good LORD is it a peckerfest. I mean, when I went to the bathroom and saw the toilet was shaped weird (with no seat cover), and realized it was that way to be man-pee friendly, I feared for a minute that I had strayed into the men's room by accident. I guess they may have to use for it as a men's room again at some point, being that women are totally outnumbered there. Or at least they were today. And while everyone was well behaved, you could tell that, like racetracks everywhere, you're going to get some, uh, characters. We were by the guys literally yelling at simulcasts from Churchill Downs, and then you've got your typical loud-mouth New York types, which, sprinkled with a gambling addiction and possibly some alcoholism, gets you someone you don't want to mess with. Or a "shmuck" as the grouchy guy behind us grumbled at one point, in response to a dude yelling at the horesman trying to catch a runaway horse (the first one I bet on, of course) before the third race.

Anyway, escapee horses aside, the betting part was good. Jason had been worried about placing bets, being that it was his first time, but he caught on quick and managed to win some money off picking horses to "show" (although his Tavern-on-the-Green-priced Nathan's lunch put a dent in his fortunes), and I got a little bolder than I usually do, betting a quinella and picking a few horses to show instead of just my usual $2-dollars-to-win bets.

But of course, the best moments came from when we strayed from the odds to pick winners. For instance, I picked a horse named Tamberino with 12-1 odds because I liked his name -- and he won me 22 bucks! And Jason picked up his first "win" in the last race, when he bet on a horse named Golden Manna because the name tickled him. Like, you see all these hardcore bettors with pens, studying programs with the intensity of a NASA engineer, but dudes, you can win for liking the weight of the jockey or the pretty star on the horsie's forehead or inadvertently betting on the wrong horse. Like I did. Having been so dizzied by Tamberino's win (and feeling saucy enough to do a $5 dollar bet), I went to place my next bet on a horse named Hammock (because that name RULES) and gave the wrong number to the bet taker. I didn't notice it until we were standing by the paddock and I realized I was supposed to bet on the No. 2 horse, not the No. 4 (the not-as-awesomely-named Red Zipper). When I saw Red Zipper's odds were similar, I stuck with it, mostly for fear of looking stupid to the bet taker, the whole time telling Jason that Hammock, with his awesome name and equally awesome dual-colored tail, would probably win just to piss me off. But lo, as the horses start coming down the clubhouse turn, who should start making his way to the front but Red Zipper. And then he makes it across the finish line first, leaving Jason and I to just be like "duuuuuuuude" and me to wonder if I'd been possessed by some long-dead mafia relation in my moment of misbetting.

All in all it was an excellent way to spend a Sunday. Combine this with a fabulous Bad Movie night on Friday (A Stranger Among Us, which, GOD IS IT TERRIBLE. Thanks mostly in part to Melanie Griffith and some gift-wrapped-in-suck dialogue) with the Hoboken Crew and a shopping quest with Ken yesterday (in which we saw Santa at the mall and were like IT'S NOT EVEN NOVEMBER 15), and I'd say I hit the trifecta for a lovely weekend.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Two Layers of Stripper, One Day of Sanding and Three Coats of Paint Later...

Before:

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After:

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Voilá! I know this progression has had you all riveted. And next up: The Chairs.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Blah

I've always been majorly hyper over-aware of everything that surrounds me. I think it's a curse sometimes, because by noticing everything and putting two and two together, you start to dread things before they inevitably happen, and then it does, and it sucks. It's like informed paranoia, but you're right. Unless it's good news that you figure out... but then it sucks too because sometimes it's nice to be surprised, you know?

I can't figure out if ignorance is indeed bliss or if this curse of mine helps me be prepared.

I do know this year has had some big-time suckage moments, though, and I am SO over it.

"It’s better to be hurt by someone you know accidentally than by a stranger on purpose."

So, I totally didn't love last night's episode of The Office because I'm not exactly sure what they're doing with Jim. I know, I know, he's finding himself or what have you, but last night kind of forgot the character a bit. Remember the Jim from Office Olympics? The one who could motivate the staff because he was on their level, especially for a fun event? And now, just because he's been made Michael's number two, he starts behaving like Michael? So much so that Phyllis calls him that? I don't know. It felt kind of forced to me. I can't tell if it's the show or me watching it in a new location that's making it weird.

I did like Dwight's arsenal hidden about the office, particularly Mr. A Knife and the blowgun in the toilet. And Michael fashioning his pants into many useful outdoor objects. THAT seemed vintage Office to me.

Oh, and in my own office last night, we were all convinced Rana was going to get killed by the Chinese food delivery guy, complete with jokes about stealth knocking and knives from Jack's 99-cent store, and it was awesome. Lesson learned? Always have enough cash on hand for a good tip, even if they won't let you use your charge card. Otherwise, you live like a mafia man for the rest of the night, thinking "this is it" whenever there's a knock on the door.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

In Which Suzanne Whang is The New Bob Lorenz

So my new obsession is HGTV. It's kind of a passive obsession, as it's not like I sit and think about it all day, but when I come home at night, it's pretty much the only channel I watch. And what shows are the ones that I love the most? Why, the ones where people are trying to sell their homes, of course. No, I don't get it. I RENT an apartment, am nowhere near close to buying anything, so what do I need to know about proper "staging"? And yet, here I am thinking, "Why in the name of god do you have exercise equipment blocking your front door if you want to sell your home, you idiot?"

I mean, I've always liked House Hunters, but now it's branched into Find Your Style and Curb Appeal (again, something I don't have to worry about IN AN APARTMENT) and My House is Worth What? and Deserving Design (which is actually heartwarming). I think it's because while I'm not big on people makeover shows (because most of the time, the people are content with how they look, which is rare these days, and then others ambush them to get made over and make them have "style." Which is more important than liking yourself as you are, apparently.) I love seeing homes get re-done. Especially if the people have suffered with ugly kitchens that they can't afford to redo and finally get to take a sledgehammer to it, or can't figure out what to do with an odd piece of furniture and then some designer comes in and makes it a butcher block/shower combo or something equally interesting.

Or maybe it's because baseball's gone and TV sucks right now (I'm pretty much only watching The Office and 30 Rock these days) and seeing a home get fixed gives me some sense of control (or at least, vicarious control) in this crazy world we live in. I don't know. I suppose there are worse networks to be addicted to. Like QVC.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

L is for the Way You Look at Me

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Come back, Andy. Pretty please?

So Bad, it's AWESOME

I love making fun of bad movies (which is probably why I adore Mystery Science Theater 3000 so much -- remind me to do a post on that sometime). So I've started something called Bad Movie Saturday, which entails having some friends over to watch some really awesomely bad movies so we can just sit and snark on them. The first movie we watched was the Tori Spelling/Kellie Martin classic Death of a Cheerleader, in which no one has actually done any cheering at a game, Locke from Lost doesn't like you if you're not popular, despite being the principal of a high school, and Valerie Harper does some serious rosary praying to a kitchen timer. Also, Tori Spelling is stabbed to death. So you can see why I'd pick something like this.

I'm looking for recommendations, to keep this new tradition going on as long as possible. So far, I've got No One Would Tell, in which Fred Savage beats Candace Cameron to death; A Stranger Among Us, in which detective Melanie Griffith (bwah!) hangs out with some Hasidic Jewish people; The Last Dragon, which I've never seen, but I'm told is crazy bad/funny; And Xanadu, which goes without saying.

So fire away. What bad movies tickle your funny bone?

Saturday, November 03, 2007

In Which I am a Stripper

So guess how I've been spending my weekend? Stripping! Stripping the paint off my new/old table (yes, I found one -- the quest is over), that is. Oh! You thought I was taking my clothes off? Well, that's not happening since my apartment building's heat isn't working and it's, like, cold out. And in order to use the paint stripper, you have to open the windows real wide and you have to put more things on your body so you don't get, like, poisoned or something. You think I'm kidding? The side of the can warns "This product will expose you to chemicals which are known to the State of California (but not to the other 49 states, apparently) to cause cancer and reproductive harm." And while I can't protect my ovaries, I've been wearing rubber gloves and goggles and boy do I look hot, y'all.

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No, I won't tell you where I hid the body.

Anyhow, what a MESS. I don't know who the dumbass was that painted a vintage, 1920s/30s table red, since IT DOESN'T EVEN MATCH THE TOP OF TABLE -- as Rana said, it looks like something out of Santa's workshop. Also, as I'm stripping it, I'm noticing there was some neat green (MATCHING) detail work below the red, but it's too much of a mess for a novice like me to restore it, so I'm just going to paint it white. My kitchen now looks kind of like a murder scene with all the red dripping here and there and the smell of the stripper is getting to me a bit. I suppose this is what happens when you are DIY, but it's keeping my mind off the drama in Yankeeland, so that's a plus.

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Before...

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...after two coats of stripper. YEAH.

Oh, and in other news, Melissa informs me that Chewboken moved out today. For reals. And my nextdoor neighbors just moved out and for a good few hours I was terrified that he was moving in, but I think it's safe to say he's not, so thank god...

Thursday, November 01, 2007

"I Gave You Things You Couldn't Even Pronounce!"

I talked about this song a few years ago, before YouTube was a gleam in our eye, and now I can post the video here. Awesomeness abounds, especially at the end when that bitch is "cold busted":

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

In Which Nobody Gets It

So, it's Halloween, and some people in the office decided to dress up. Now, I'm the type that if I can't figure out something ubercreative, I won't dress up, and this year was no exception. But I did get into the spirit a little bit by being a "ceiling fan." This required making a shirt that says "Go Ceilings!" on the front with the name CATHEDRAL printed across the back and a 23 under it. So far, only the people I've told know what I am. Everyone else is just giving me looks as if they're trying to figure it out but they know I'm a huge baseball fan and this might be some minor-league enterprise they've never heard about. Tsk, tsk.

Rana is also obviously Punky Brewster, but no one's gotten that either. And then Art and Web Guy Mike didn't dress up like Don Mattingly and Magnum P.I. respectively (because, really, the two are kind of interchangeable) as they had been talking about (though Art did come as Jerry Seinfeld, which was a nice surprise). What kind of Halloween is this? A bummer one.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Forewarned is Forearmed

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Boys are stupid.

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You can say that again.

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You mean they won't let you play with them when you're a grown-up?

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No, they won't let you watch them play anymore because they flake out and go to another team. Because men suck. Like broccoli.

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YUCK!

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I know!! Listen, Little KB, you're going to watch this movie Grease in a few years and it's going to be on at like every sleepover you attend and then on VH1 or TBS or TNT at least 40 times a week. There is a very wise line in that movie that says "The only man a girl can trust is her daddy." And possibly Don Mattingly. Because it's true.

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What about Papa Smurf?

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Maybe.

chickenTM
WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?

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A chicken!!!

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I'm imparting wisdom to my younger self so she won't be so taken aback when men are fickle jackasses who don't even negotiate a contract with their old team because he and his agent want to be overdramatic pricks.

chickenTM
Are you drunk?

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No, it's all the hurt and anger I've been avoiding all day spilling out now.

chickenTM
Don't be bitter.

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What's bitter?

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Bitter is like the most popular guy in school asked you out, you think he likes you, you basically act the part of the dude in "When a Man Loves a Woman" (the song, not the movie, and the Percey Sledge version, not the Michael Bolton one -- he's going to come on the scene and freak you out in about eight years) and jump to his defense when everyone tries to knock him, because you know, believe he's genuine, and then he dumps you to go bang all the sluts in your school, your crosstown rival and at the Catholic school. Because you sticking up and defending him in blog posts that took you weeks to write meant nothing.

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Slut?

chickenTM
A not-nice lady.

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Oh.

chickenTM
Maybe it's not like that at all. Maybe he just didn't like New York.

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No, Chicken, I'm beginning to think he didn't want us to love him. Because if we all did, he might've had to love us back and then he'd feel a responsiblity to not disappoint us, and therefore would never be able to go elsewhere to make more money without feeling guilty.

chickenTM
I personally think he feels the need to be the best at everything, but while you can be a Yankee and be really good, you'll never be bigger than the Yankees. You know?

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Are you talking about Lou Pinella? He's funny!

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No, we're talking about stupid, sucky men.

chickenTM
Listen, small one, don't take your older self too seriously. The only men who truly suck are the ones who are greedy and selfish and don't take other people's feelings into account. And most baseball players qualify under that. You seem to understand that later in life, when you're not so angry.

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What are you saying?

chickenTM
That you should know better by now. And you do.

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Perhaps, but right now, I'm really hurt.

chickenTM
You're entitled. If it's any consolation, Guy the Godzilla and I went and did some really frustrated dance gymnastics in an abandoned warehouse to ease the pain. And now we're worried we need tetanus shots. But you can't let it kill your faith in mankind. Or all the nice Yankees who stick around.

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I suppose we'll get over it at some point. Like, maybe Labor Day 2017.

chickenTM
That's the spirit!

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This is boring. Can we watch The Greatest American Hero now?