Yum yum....NOT

Did you ever notice those large cookies sold at 'healthy' places (like GNC, the gym snack stand, etc)?

(Did you ever wonder if I sound like Andy Rooney? I don't.)

You know, the ones that are 'fruit juice sweetened,' "high fiber," and the newest one, "no trans fats"? The ones that taste vaguely of dust and pineapple, even if they are chocolate chip?

They come, apparently, as two 'servings.' Yep. One of those cookies is two servings. Each serving, 220 calories.

One of those dusty, unpleasantly chewy, heavy and vaguely fruity doorstops is 440 calories.

A delightful McDonald's Double Cheeseburger is 440 calories too.

Yum yum!


completely different. I crochet. I don't knit.

Relationships are hard! Let's do math!

Yes, we have to divide up our time like that, between our politics and our equations. But to me our equations are far more important, for politics are only a matter of present concern. A mathematical equation stands forever.

- Albert Einstein (as shamelessly stolen from my Google front page)


Once upon a time,

There was a princess. A tiny, tiny princess. Well, tiny to you and me, at any rate. In her particular dimension, she was quite grand in stature. Her shoes were picometers-high, as high as her trailing-cape of muons was long.

This is why I don't write fiction.

Suspended anime-tion

I am in an odd place right now.

There is work on my desk and I have no desire to embark on completing it. I have additional work to do tonight, which I will likely enjoy, but it is not my main work.

I have an urge to do the following, in some combination perhaps, and in no determined order:
- write fiction
- consume chocolate
- work on audition material
- take a long walk
- check my cell phone voice mail
- disgorge the major and minor conflicts currently weighing on my brain and heart (metaphorically, not physically, thank goodness, knock on wood and all. I'm feeling relatively dandy, except for itchy eyes and slightly sore quads.)
- create a task list for cleaning my house this weekend
- locate a credit card bill and pay it
- go to the bank
- fictionalize one of the major conflicts that's brewing that I can't freely chat about
- clean out my personal email boxes
- crochet

What I am doing -
- rambling here for a short time
- reading old and infintely entertaining journals on the IRC
- readying myself for a dee-licious cup of Swiss Miss made with water-cooler hot water, thus making it slightly murky and not at all hot enough.
- debating whether I should gnaw on a stale unfilled cannoli shell (!) with my delicious beverage
- contemplating starting a new document of barfed-up fictionalizations of my current internal drama.


I'm wearing a smart suit, though. Shouldn't that count for something?


Rambo gets a fine review in the NY Times.

- Should I want to see this movie?
- Should I want to see it more since the Times gave it a great review?
- Should I see it because I am guilty of 80s nostalgia, even though I never saw the other Rambo movies in the theater?
- Should I be bothered by the fact that I really want to go see it, I mean really, I do.
- Do you want to go see Rambo with me? I mean, I'm sure I can find a dude to go with me, but you know, people get busy.
- Should I be bothered by the fact that I want to see Rambo, but either alone or with a dude? And not with a chick friend?
- Does anyone really care about Sylvester Stallone and the fact that he took HGH to pump up for this movie?
- Should that lessen my possible enjoyment of Rambo?
- Mostly, I want to go with someone to share the medium popcorn, giant soda combo. I don't drink soda and I can never finish the popcorn. And even if you go with someone who doesn't want anything when you go to the snack counter, they end up eating your popcorn because it is tasty. Just saying.



I'm reading "Anna Karenina" again

"Yes, I understand it all now," said Darya Alexandrovna. "You can't understand it; for you men, who are free and make your own choice, it's always clear whom you love. But a girl's in a position of suspense, with all a woman's or maiden's modesty, a girl who sees you men from afar, who takes everything on trust,-- a girl may have, and often has, such a feeling that she cannot tell what to say."

"Yes, if the heart does not speak..."

"No, the heart does speak; but just consider: you men have views about a girl, you come to the house, you make friends, you criticize, you wait to see if you have found what you love, and then, when you are sure you love her, you make an offer...."

"Well, that's not quite it."

"Anyway you make an offer, when your love is ripe or when the balance has completely turned between the two you are choosing from. But a girl is not asked. She is expected to make her choice, and yet she cannot choose, she can only answer 'yes' or 'no.'"





Write a wise saying and your name will live forever.
- Anonymous


Observations on Law & Order

Probably obvious but I've been watching lately...

1 - L&O is more pervasive than MASH or Seinfeld ever was. Remember when there was always a MASH rerun on? Or, maybe five years ago, there was always a Seinfeld rerun on? Of course, there are so many flavors of L&O on and an explosion of Unnecessary Cable Channels*. In a recent evening of channel surfing, I am pretty sure there were four episodes, on at least three different chanels.

2 - Exterior shots look like they are done in bulk, either in front of 60 Centre (the State courthouse with the impressive staircase) or the Federal building right across the way (the modern-y looking vertical-windowed one, where International Trade and a bunch of other Federal offices live). Let me tell you, those stairs are a fucking pain in the ass, especially in heels. And at least one in two L&O defendant shootings** takes place on those steps.

3 - You know, as much as I love SVU***, there are only so many scripts you can do about embryos. I want to know if there is a writer in charge of embryo continuity.

4 - Every crime show steals from Homicide.

5 - No matter what, I am unashamed to admit that I still love the Belz. Who was also stolen from Homicide. Even if he is starting to morph into Leonard Nimoy.

(*more on this later, I'm sure.)
(**the mid-episode defendant shooting is a Cross-L&O Plot Device. It can be spotted a mile away when the first twenty minutes reveal the criminals AND their crime isn't too severe. but again, I digress.)
(***Keller! The pouty Mariska! Ice-T! Dann Florek! and the Belz! Best cast ever.)


Why I need more chick friends

- Seriously is it worth it to wax my legs?
- Wanna keep me company during my pedi?
- We so need to get measured for bras
- And what's the deal with the bikini wax? Can I wear my own underwear or what?
- That color is way too purple for you.
- Is that vanilla flavored? Nice!
- You can have these heels. They kill my feet.
- Um when you're working out does this ever happen to-

Never mind. This is all ridiculous anyway. Which probably explains the above.

With apologies to "Anonymous" and my other two or three blogreading Y-chromosomes.


Just buy this.

Don't think. Just purchase. You need this.

Now that's what I call fitness!

This morning I sweated out six whiskeys, freshly-fried chicken fingers, potato skins, frustration, rage and a pound of tears.

Look out for my new workout program, "Sweating to the Uglies" where I set a fast-paced, many-repped, heavy-lifting workout to hardcore death metal and Black Flag. Think Henry Rollins in a Richard Simmons violet tank-top.

Or don't.

Of course, it is now 3 PM and I have had 2 sugar cookies and some tofu for lunch.


Suck in your life.

Freaking evil.

I want this site to die. I want everything about it to die.

I am sure I have mentioned it before. I don't care if it is run by well meaning and sensible ladies somewhere. I don't care if it is run by a conglomeration of smug psychoanalysts or canny businessmen or both. I want it to curl up and die and take everything that it represents with it.

I want to find the woman who is sad enough to pay almost $100 (!) for unfashionable jeans that may make her look 5 pounds smaller, because moving around a tiny portion of body mass is certainly her key to spiritual fulfillment.

I want to take the ace bandage and clay 'detox' kit, that will presumably drain you of a tiny portion of body mass, wrap the bandages tightly around a smug psychoanalyst and choke them with the damp clay.

Being a woman of a certain age (I perversely love that phrase, but let's get into my contradictions some other time, I'm on a roll), I take this shit highly personally.

When you get four or five crows' feet, or maybe notice a bit of displaced flesh when you rise out of bed in the morning, high-waisted wide-leg jeans with pumps may seem like a good idea.

They're not. Snap out of it. I don't care if you have to dump some bourbon in your morning Folgers. Spend the $100 on quality booze rather than overpriced, tired lycra and inferior denim.

You will be better for it.

*All of the above also applies to the Quacker Factory and Denim & Co. If you are awake at stupid hours and enjoy staring slackjawed at Home Shopping Hostesses, you will know of what I speak. However, even QVC doesn't seem so sad in comparison; just weirdly earnest. And at least you can embrace your inner tunic for about $40. The only thing I hate worse than burying yourself alive is being ripped off in the process.

This quote describes several of my current relationships all too well.

"I think we have the kind of friendship where if I were the devil, you'd be the only one I would tell."

- Broadcast News

(I'd forgotten how much I loved this movie. It may be one of my favorite movies that I always forget is one of my favorite movies, if that makes any sense.)


Ah, those crazy jurists!

"As I recall my esteemed former colleague, Thurgood Marshall, remarking on numerous occasions: ‘The Constitution does not prohibit legislatures from enacting stupid laws.'"
- J. John Paul Stevens

06-766 New York State Board of Elections v. Lopez Torres


My brother and I -

- are exactly the same height
- otherwise look nothing alike
- once caused an explosion in a gas stove
- prefer Breyers over Ben and Jerrys
- enjoy Ovaltine wet or dry
- move at different paces
- but can be equally obsessive
- had some of the same teachers growing up
- have lousy handwriting
- know many, many Billy Joel songs by heart
- think we are both underappreciated geniuses
- contemplate opening a goat farm/dairy/bakery one day
- are fiercely protective and loyal
- throw out milk before the expiration date
- like a mean cup o' coffee
- kick ass
- love each other very much

Happy Birthday baby brother (slightly late, but that's how we roll)

(photos to follow when i get off my lazyish hyperactive butt)

Scrabbble is for cheaters!

Sponsor me!

Scrabble is for Cheaters

It's all for a good cause!


G'wan, eat that Twinkie!

American Apparel has a (tiny) selection of clothes for fatties!

And by fatties I mean the size I would be if I lost another 50 pounds or so. Maybe. Although the craving for an array of brightly-colored, LA-produced, creepy-advertised tiny rib tanks is INTENSE!

I own a pair of American Apparel 'thigh high' socks. And by thigh high I mean knee high. They're quite cute. I also purchased a strange polka-dotted headband and a smallish pair of mens' safety orange briefs, possibly to be gifted when it amuses me to do so.

What would you do, ladies and gents, if confronted with a pair of safety orange briefs (on another, clearly, not on yourself.) I may buy another few pairs and scatter them amongst the slim-hipped men of New York just for giggles. Kind of like marking a dollar bill with your name, or website, and sending it out into the world.



maybe baby

Putting my binky where my mouth is, so to speak. I just signed up with an agency to investigate adoptions. I'm not promising anything. I am putting off major purchases for awhile though. Better to pay down my debt then get a sweet new Mac which, although not as drooly, is only half as cuddly. And binkys ain't cheap.

If you want to dissolve into a warmish puddle of tears go browse the NYC kid adoption site. Like one of those stray pet sites but way more serious. As in, they are severely traumatized yet adorable children with a positive light straining over them. ("Kayla is nine and loves the Spice Girls! She takes medications to deal with her moderate psychiatric disorders....has four siblings in other placements she would like to remain close with...reads at a first-grade level and really progressing with her speech and anger issues.")

Adoption websites are almost overwhelming. Ads for 'prospective parents' (not the adoptive parents but the parents giving up the babies can't help but give a faint anti-choice whiff to the pages. Means well, one would hope, but it is enough to make me uneasy about my pro-choiceness. I don't want someone talked out of doing what would be best for them so that I can blot drool from a tiny chin.

I'm a tiny bit obsessed with drool in case you couldn't tell. I'm a drooler. Watch me fall asleep in your vehicle and you will know this. I guess I'm surreptitiously looking for a family resemblance from the get-go.

The blogosphere is daunting. It's almost too much. From loans and financing to immigration to cross-cultural hair care.


A new morning....

What am I wearing? A white tank and underwear. Lime green socks.

What am I drinking? GFIC "French Vanilla Cafe" with protein powder mixed in.

What am I thinking? Should I write a book? Can I get some laundry in? Raisin nut bread sounds nice.

What is required of me? Lunch with the family and the first Changing of the Linens.

What's the vaguely humourous retort in my head? Why do they call them linens anyway? What's the deal with that? I mean really are they actually made out of linen?

What's the burning question? Am I ready to watch Season 5 of the Wire?