I don't rely on Yahoo! for my daily Intercrap intake...but these photos from Sundance are completely lovely. Really.

a sweet timewaster for you

Follow up

1. Pretzels don't work. You know, they're not even tasty.

[EDITED again because damn, that's bitchy. But pretzels are still SO NOT WORTH IT.]

Edited to point out the fact that while I am not actually a bitch, I can in fact be bitchy. Enjoy the subtlety!

Edited to point out that I haven't gotten very much sleep lately. And I can't afford to lose any of my three readers. I get the feeling that Reader #2 has been keeping up...!


grumble grumble

Warning to all three of you readers....CRANK ALERT

I have had a splitting headache for 14 hours. I don't care if my blood turns into water, I'm digging up some fucking aspirin.

Of course, it would be fine if I'd made it to the drugstore to get eyedrops Bufferin and my antidepressants.

Or even better, if I wasn't carrying around giant waterballooons on my chest that hurt like a bastard and I wasn't eating chocolate covered salt licks...I'd be dandy.

Or stopped contemplating my 'personal' life. You know, I realized a couple of things. First of all, my ideal man is probably a mashup of two, two and a half guys I know, sprinkled with whiskey and prescribed mild anxiolytics. So much for science. And second, I don't think that I actually know how to properly fall in love with the right person. I know a lot of stuff, people, I'm hella smart (smarter than to use words like 'hella'), but this may be something I can't think my way out of.


Will a pretzel cure all this? And should I find out?



Follow up to yesterday's post.

That was the Best Football Game Ever.

And that Brady guy's no slouch, either. Alas.

Bill Belichek, is kinda creepy.

'Nuff said. I'm sorely in danger of developing yet another guy-like devotion. Looking around, there's a half-full bottle of Makers and a package of Fruit of the Looms lying about.

Who's inviting me to their Super Bowl party? I'll bring the cheeselog rolled in nuts and the cigars.

Yeah...I made plans to hit a cigar bar with a friendly coworker after this project ends. Maybe we'll go trolling for chicks.



Da Bearsssss


Tonight the Bears won the NFC and soon will be the AFC Pats-Colts game.

I'm not a huge football fan - more of a baseball fan, really. I don't know all the arcana, the stats, the penalties. There aren't enough games, the point scoring is weird.

But I can't resist a championship game. Nearly any sport - football, basketball, Final 4, baseball - if it's the end of the road, I'll watch it. The excitement is crazy. Even in this money-hungry, steroidal, badly-behaved era of sports...you can't tell me these guys aren't into it for real. They wouldn't be there if they didn't want to win - cliche? Maybe. But it restores my faith in all kinds of stuff, to see a vat of Gatorade get dumped enthusiastically and lovingly over a coach's head.

The owners, coaches, players, fans...so excited. Until they start flipping cars - well, that sucks. And sorry, but golf will continue to suck.

But for now....Go Team!

Mounds of Fries

Why is it always "Mounds of Fries?"

It makes me think of hot, salty boobs.

Mounds. of Fries.

Inspired by the Tater Mitts, as seen on TV.

They may be too new to have made it to today's Best Site Possible, As Seen on TV. I would be closer to bankrupt if I didn't close it immediately. It's unbelievably awesome. Besides the 'famous' products like the Magic Bullet (the blender shaped like a vibrator!), the self-draining pasta pot and the food dehydrators, it's got shmantastic goodies like chocolate-melting kits, cake decorating packages, stick on lights, herbal 'supplements' and the Onion Blossom maker! On sale! Note the fun juxtapositions, like the "Betty Crocker 100 piece Cake Decorating Set" right next to "Billy Blank's Boot Camp."

I love American style consumerism made overseas and infomercialized/commercialized by the good old USA!

Go amuse yourself. Seriously consider the s'mores maker. and book mark it for the eventual appearance of the Tater Mitts!



A neat interview with Kyle Secor on the bisexual Bayliss.

Mom got me Seasons 1 & 2 of "Homicide" on DVD. Hooray!


yummy! rub a steak on it...

"Romance to me is fatty and sensual."
- Cliff, "Top Chef"

Tom Colicchio can really be a dick. What a sourpuss! That looked like a lovely dinner. See my new favorite timewaster for great 'cheftestant' nicknames and judge hatin'.

Uh oh....controversy alert! Gotta go.


I was tagged! By Maddy, who was tagged by Amanda, who I just delightfully saw today at lunch!

Okay. Here's the swell bloggy game: Write down five things you probably don't know about me.

What about me...don't you know...that I'm willing to put into print...indeed!

Okay, maybe these are mundane but they're TRUE.

1. Even though I'm Jewish by birth (I'm a halfsie), I sometimes if I'm anxious will cross myself, in the Russian Orthodox style. Just in case, and sometimes it's weirdly reassuring.

2. I enjoy tripe, tofu, and tempeh...but not together.

3. I started wearing glasses when I was seven. Possibly related, I have horrible judgment when it comes to colors. I have to ask people in the store "Are these pants black, blue or brown?"

4. I secretly love wearing high heels but don't do it often because of pain and klutziness.

5. My first time on stage was in first grade, when I played the title role in "The Selfish Giant." What a meanie!

Who did I tag?




"Chuch" is a Russian word for "aunt"

Dear Chuch,

Today when I told Nana* about the dress I got at Syms, a stunning Marilyn Monroe-esque cocktail dress, for all of $5, I smiled and said, "Yeah, Chuch was with me yesterday." She said you and she would shop at Syms. Yes, and Marshalls, and anywhere there were good sales.

I remember your CB handle used to be the "Bargain Hunter," and I remember hearing you rattle off CB slang on trips home from the city like it was your second language. "Frankie Louie" was one of the exits on the expressway, Francis Lewis Boulevard, and there was always congestion.

I was talking to a good friend yesterday about weddings, and saying if/when he got married, "I would be there with a hat on." You (and by association, Donna) were the only ones who wore hats to my wedding, where I wore a grand and inspired one myself. I've a picture of us, both in our grand and inspired hats, you with a wig at that time because of the chemo. I loved you with the hat and wig, and I loved you later without the wig, with snappy shortish brownish hair. (? Who knew! Weren't you a 'natural' redhead like Lucille Ball? Indeed!)

I have my $5 dress and countless other bargains, also in a wide range of sizes to account for chaotic weight swings. I have a smallish cabined filled with spare gifts, picked up from discount houses and all over, 'just in case' someone needs a present, or someone extra shows up for Christmas. You were a great and giving hostess, and master of that kitchen with two stoves that always astounded me; two stoves, indeed! You always had the kitchen and basement and fridge stocked, and you could probably live for years, and give Christmas presents, without ever entering a store.

I remember when I was a kid and my parents were fighting - a bad one - and I was scared to go in the house, and you met me outside, big and commanding in your mink coat, and let me hide warmly inside the great dimensions of the coat, and walked me inside to my room yourself, holding me close. That was safety, and love, cause nothing bad could happen if you were protecting me.

I remember going to your house to watch the Islanders-Rangers game with my dad, your house fiercely divided along team lines, and cheering on 'your Islanders' at my peril. So much fun!

I remember you and Uncle Walter coming to my college graduation, so proud. I remember you and Uncle Walter bickering but still being loving. I remember you yelling when you needed to yell, and hugging when you needed to hug. I remember you speaking your mind.

I remember barbecues. I remember playing your piano, shyly. I remember the Real Christmas tree (not at all like our fakey one), the best smell in the world.

I remember you, and I miss you.

Love you, wherever you are,

*footnotes are a pain...but for those two readers who don't know me, Nana is my grandmother, 89 and kicking, and Chuch was her sister, my late great aunt who died of cancer.


Random New York observations

1. Tonight as I dashed out to the Duane Reade for the umpteenth time today, I looked up and saw the sky; it was that winter blue, finally, that heartbreaking, deep, velvety starless royal-blue that only chilly city winter twilight can achieve. I missed the light, on purpose.

2. When you're down and out, and not a vegetarian, Hale & Hearty Soup's Black Lentil with Double-Smoked Bacon and Red Onions may very well be a life saver. However, dumping on oyster crackers before putting it in the refrigerator (you can't possibly eat the whole large soup) is a bit of a textural mistake. But still delicious.

3. You can get anything you want....at Duane Reade. Anything. Including bald-man head towels, bikini razors and cranberry juice. Holiday candy, baby wipes and shampoo just for brunettes. Panties, lipstick, smokehouse almonds. It's the general store of the 21st century.

A mind is a terrible thing....

Here's a fantastic illustration of how my Expensive Education is Not Wasted:

Today, I had an audition for a pharma ad. Words like 'antibodies' and 'compound' and 'receptors' and such came trippingly off my tongue. The auditor commented that I had no trouble with all the 'science words.' Yeah, that's what I do...

Cool. However, I stumbled badly on 'remaining.'

Biophysics, not speech, people!


Read in Overheard

From Overheard in NY:

Guido on cell: Fucking the shit out of you, lying in bed after, and talking about state capitals! Is that all I fucking am to you? That's the fucking highlight of my life.

--3rd Ave & 85th St, Bay Ridge

Overheard by: punkee

Shuffle, indeed!

Wow. The OhMyBod from Babeland.