Oh, I hate the summer.
The sun--nice and all--but me and my transparent skin slathering sunblock #50 all day long = not so much fun.
I guess I could use white gloves and a parisol for protection, but would it really go with my jeans and Converse sneakers?
So I have one of those lovely iPods. One of the old ones, not the ones where you can watch TV shows (on a screen the size of a baby mouse for $399.00 -- brilliant). Anywho, I love the thing but, hey, loading it in -- could it be more of a pain in the ass? It makes me pine for the days of the good ol' mix tape.
Okay -- what was the worst thing you had to deal with the tape runs out? Go to side two. My other problem it's so impersonal. Remember when you would make a mix tape for your friends, complete with homemade artwork
or how about when you liked a guy (or girl), you would say all the things you wanted to say on the tape (I like you/you're special; hell even "I hate you")Oh hell -- you made a conection. What do you do now? I downloaded this for you; check your file -- did you? Thanks; it must have taken you all of 30 seconds.
Love in the modern age.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Gradually, then suddenly
Yes, it's true I am a 35 year old.
Now, you say 35 is the new 20 and 40 is the new 30 but hey, what the fuck--I'm still 35. Five years from the big 40. Ten after that, 50 (and hopefully, I will have learned how to drive
by then). So what did I do? Wanted to see the Poseidon disaster; no luck--sold out. Then again, the local theater seats 40 or so people... so everyone who doesn't have a job can get tickets.
The real fun was on Sat. Went to the Borgata at A.C.; no craps involved--just Jim Norton.
If you know the name, you probably listen to Opie and Anthony.
Sadly, if you don't, all I will say is
"RAMOOOOONE, get this idiot an XM radio and stop worshiping Howard Stern!"
("hoo hoo hoo, I created comedy--tell 'em Fred")
Anyhoo, enjoy the sunshine and think of me...
Love,
Liz
Now, you say 35 is the new 20 and 40 is the new 30 but hey, what the fuck--I'm still 35. Five years from the big 40. Ten after that, 50 (and hopefully, I will have learned how to drive
by then). So what did I do? Wanted to see the Poseidon disaster; no luck--sold out. Then again, the local theater seats 40 or so people... so everyone who doesn't have a job can get tickets.
The real fun was on Sat. Went to the Borgata at A.C.; no craps involved--just Jim Norton.
If you know the name, you probably listen to Opie and Anthony.
Sadly, if you don't, all I will say is
"RAMOOOOONE, get this idiot an XM radio and stop worshiping Howard Stern!"
("hoo hoo hoo, I created comedy--tell 'em Fred")
Anyhoo, enjoy the sunshine and think of me...
Love,
Liz
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Your mother was wrong--you're just not that special
That's right--you're not special.
You and that damn walkie-talkie phone of yours.
Grown man with a contraption what makes you look
like you're ten years old (why don't you string two cans together
and have the conversation; it would seem more dignified).
Oh, how about the Bluetooth idiots? The loudmouths with the
blue/silver beetles hanging on, looking like a hearing aid.
Carrying on--like your phone call is so important.
First, use your inside voice. Second--your call to the office
isn't the call to the red phone, ok? Talking into space makes you look
mental.
If I'm going to sit next to a nut--fine, just make sure he's
got his tin foil hat on (preferably talking about Jesus or JFK;
I can never get enough of a good conspiracy theory).
One good technology bit--woman sitting next to me was watching Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. No Caddyshack, but still funny.
You and that damn walkie-talkie phone of yours.
Grown man with a contraption what makes you look
like you're ten years old (why don't you string two cans together
and have the conversation; it would seem more dignified).
Oh, how about the Bluetooth idiots? The loudmouths with the
blue/silver beetles hanging on, looking like a hearing aid.
Carrying on--like your phone call is so important.
First, use your inside voice. Second--your call to the office
isn't the call to the red phone, ok? Talking into space makes you look
mental.
If I'm going to sit next to a nut--fine, just make sure he's
got his tin foil hat on (preferably talking about Jesus or JFK;
I can never get enough of a good conspiracy theory).
One good technology bit--woman sitting next to me was watching Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. No Caddyshack, but still funny.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
On behalf of the passengers, please turn off the noise
My morning commute:
Train packed to the rafters. Stand? Guess so.
Oh, look a seat--of course the guy sitting in one of them
has his legs splayed out like he's something special;
well,tough luck, bucko--I'm sitting down. Cram my frame into
that cushiony seat. AHHH... time to relax... until guess what
happens?
Two women/two guys sitting across from me start the morning
'entertainment'. All of them blabbing away; laughing, stomping
their feet, cursing up a storm (what were they talking about?).
Don't know, but it had a lot to do with f@#k, s%$t, mother... you get it.
You would think that's enough--no, not yet.
They decide it's time for the musical portion of the show--simultaneously, they pull out the cell phones. The usual assortment of rap/R&B horseshit and one of them actuallyrecorded a song on her phone (off key with the sound quality similar to one who would sing into a paper towel roll). OOOH--Beyonce--watch out! She proceeded to play the song over and over again, especially her little rap part.
Now, as you can guess, everbody on this train is a little annoyed; everyone waiting for someone to say something.
I could tell some glanced over to me as if to say 'young lady you have nothing to lose--sacrifice your health and some teeth and tell those people to hush'.
Sorry bud; I've been down this road before--I suffer you suffer.
By a stroke of luck or the hammer of the gods, an actual conductor came by
told them to turn off the music. They did after much grumbling (after Mr. Conductor exited the car, they gave one more performace of the
song in a cappella). All this AND the woman sitting next to me had wicked B.O.
Good morning indeed.
Train packed to the rafters. Stand? Guess so.
Oh, look a seat--of course the guy sitting in one of them
has his legs splayed out like he's something special;
well,tough luck, bucko--I'm sitting down. Cram my frame into
that cushiony seat. AHHH... time to relax... until guess what
happens?
Two women/two guys sitting across from me start the morning
'entertainment'. All of them blabbing away; laughing, stomping
their feet, cursing up a storm (what were they talking about?).
Don't know, but it had a lot to do with f@#k, s%$t, mother... you get it.
You would think that's enough--no, not yet.
They decide it's time for the musical portion of the show--simultaneously, they pull out the cell phones. The usual assortment of rap/R&B horseshit and one of them actuallyrecorded a song on her phone (off key with the sound quality similar to one who would sing into a paper towel roll). OOOH--Beyonce--watch out! She proceeded to play the song over and over again, especially her little rap part.
Now, as you can guess, everbody on this train is a little annoyed; everyone waiting for someone to say something.
I could tell some glanced over to me as if to say 'young lady you have nothing to lose--sacrifice your health and some teeth and tell those people to hush'.
Sorry bud; I've been down this road before--I suffer you suffer.
By a stroke of luck or the hammer of the gods, an actual conductor came by
told them to turn off the music. They did after much grumbling (after Mr. Conductor exited the car, they gave one more performace of the
song in a cappella). All this AND the woman sitting next to me had wicked B.O.
Good morning indeed.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Hey kids--Easter's here!
Oh, I do love this time of year.
Bunnies a hoppin'; Christ a risin'.
There's something about a chocolate bunny with those l'il yellow eyes and carrot noses and
cute l'il names like Sunny ,Honey, Funny (and of course the one that's the cheap
store brand that looks crosseyed and more like a jackrabbit).
All of this insulin raising goodness that turns me into a wide eyed l'il kitty (BLINK - BLINK, think about it, it's cute).
Oh my days of youth; all my cares were tied to what PAAS food
coloring to use on my eggs: pink, blue, ohh now it's purple--now let's use crayons; wait--now it's cracked--next.
(nobody ever eats the eggs anyway; blue egg with a green yolk = tasty)
My favorite Easter story? It's the one where my mom allowed me to get a
comic book. I pick the one with the Bunny on the cover, bypassing
the fact it had the SCARY comic book title.
The l'il rabbit lured children into his factory, dipped them in chocolate,
and bit their heads off. Read this--couldn't sleep for days.
So pull out your Easter bonnets, take out those chocolate rabbits, rip the
heads clean off and think of me.
.
Bunnies a hoppin'; Christ a risin'.
There's something about a chocolate bunny with those l'il yellow eyes and carrot noses and
cute l'il names like Sunny ,Honey, Funny (and of course the one that's the cheap
store brand that looks crosseyed and more like a jackrabbit).
All of this insulin raising goodness that turns me into a wide eyed l'il kitty (BLINK - BLINK, think about it, it's cute).
Oh my days of youth; all my cares were tied to what PAAS food
coloring to use on my eggs: pink, blue, ohh now it's purple--now let's use crayons; wait--now it's cracked--next.
(nobody ever eats the eggs anyway; blue egg with a green yolk = tasty)
My favorite Easter story? It's the one where my mom allowed me to get a
comic book. I pick the one with the Bunny on the cover, bypassing
the fact it had the SCARY comic book title.
The l'il rabbit lured children into his factory, dipped them in chocolate,
and bit their heads off. Read this--couldn't sleep for days.
So pull out your Easter bonnets, take out those chocolate rabbits, rip the
heads clean off and think of me.
.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Alright... complaining's my business and business is good...
Alright...
It's Friday. Worked all week. Not much to say. Hey it's a living and I'm legal.
As I type this, I would love to listen to my XM radio, but no reception in the
apt (the one downer of moving).
Hey Clem, how's the commute to work?
It's public transportation... Crowded bus--everyone smells and has a shitty
morning attitude. Of course, Ms. Fat Ass has to sit next to me every time I
might get a seat.Get off the bus, make the mad dash to the train (with 10 seconds to spare). Hope a get a sea or at least not have to sit next bunch of commuters with all the charm of a teamster with out a contract.
By golly, Clem -- gone shopping lately?
Went to To Old Navy, cute stuff tired of hibernating in the same damn shirts and jeans.
Bring on the spring... I welcome the return of Fancy Clementine.
Gee willikers, Clem -- did your brother just get hitched?
Yup... thanks for telling me Quentin--nothing like finding out weeks later from your mom; that makes you feel in the inner circle.
And last, but not least, check out the new article in the New York Magazine
''Forever Youngish - Why Nobody Wants To Be An Adult Anymore".
Ha ha... cover story on indie yuppies (sorry--grups) and there, brethren...
OOH LA LA.
'Bye.
It's Friday. Worked all week. Not much to say. Hey it's a living and I'm legal.
As I type this, I would love to listen to my XM radio, but no reception in the
apt (the one downer of moving).
Hey Clem, how's the commute to work?
It's public transportation... Crowded bus--everyone smells and has a shitty
morning attitude. Of course, Ms. Fat Ass has to sit next to me every time I
might get a seat.Get off the bus, make the mad dash to the train (with 10 seconds to spare). Hope a get a sea or at least not have to sit next bunch of commuters with all the charm of a teamster with out a contract.
By golly, Clem -- gone shopping lately?
Went to To Old Navy, cute stuff tired of hibernating in the same damn shirts and jeans.
Bring on the spring... I welcome the return of Fancy Clementine.
Gee willikers, Clem -- did your brother just get hitched?
Yup... thanks for telling me Quentin--nothing like finding out weeks later from your mom; that makes you feel in the inner circle.
And last, but not least, check out the new article in the New York Magazine
''Forever Youngish - Why Nobody Wants To Be An Adult Anymore".
Ha ha... cover story on indie yuppies (sorry--grups) and there, brethren...
OOH LA LA.
'Bye.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Le Fig's All Here
Greetings, saplings.
I blog to you from the fair state of New Jersey. Yes, I've been here a full two weeks. I didn't have time to blog when I was going through my moving week. Let's just say I lived on three hours of sleep a night and Uncle Sam bars. But I'm happy to say, settled in, content and oh what a beautiful apartment.
Now my commute is through New Jersey Transit. The trains are quite nice but crowded; nicer class of people than say, a certain ferry I used to take. Sorry (not to be a snob), but so far I haven't seen any homeless men taking the train with me. There's nothing like the smell of beer and sausage to really wake you up in the morning.
So as I said, things are settled; work is fine and we'll see how the months progress. Just wanted to say hello.
Until next time...
Your loyal Le Fig
I blog to you from the fair state of New Jersey. Yes, I've been here a full two weeks. I didn't have time to blog when I was going through my moving week. Let's just say I lived on three hours of sleep a night and Uncle Sam bars. But I'm happy to say, settled in, content and oh what a beautiful apartment.
Now my commute is through New Jersey Transit. The trains are quite nice but crowded; nicer class of people than say, a certain ferry I used to take. Sorry (not to be a snob), but so far I haven't seen any homeless men taking the train with me. There's nothing like the smell of beer and sausage to really wake you up in the morning.
So as I said, things are settled; work is fine and we'll see how the months progress. Just wanted to say hello.
Until next time...
Your loyal Le Fig
Saturday, January 14, 2006
The time of salivation is here
I bring a message of love for the new year.
Not really, but if you weren't familiar with my blog, you might have been fooled.
So what has the new year brought?
I'm moving, thank you very much. No more ghetto, baby--I'm movin' on up. Before we leave, I have one wish... I hope my neighbors die of a drug overdose and their drug-addled corpses are
found weeks later, half eaten by rats the size of chihuahuas (if you wonder about the hostility, read my old blogs; otherwise, you get it).
Guess what I have: XM radio. I used to love me some Ipod, but the fickle female I am, well... Let's just say: I LOVE ME SOME XM! You have no idea how nice it is to listen to real music with no commercials.
THE LE FIG HAPPY LIST:
1. XM radio
2. O&A on XM (trust me, it's I-can't-breathe funny.)
3.The Flavor of Love: The VH-1 show. It's ghetto-horror-tastic.
4. Any reality shows about tattoos -- Miami Ink, Inked (it's my new thing; just work with me)
5. Smokehouse BBQ Buffet: food--me love it, nothing more to say.
More tasty tidbits later. Stay gold, Ponyboy.
Not really, but if you weren't familiar with my blog, you might have been fooled.
So what has the new year brought?
I'm moving, thank you very much. No more ghetto, baby--I'm movin' on up. Before we leave, I have one wish... I hope my neighbors die of a drug overdose and their drug-addled corpses are
found weeks later, half eaten by rats the size of chihuahuas (if you wonder about the hostility, read my old blogs; otherwise, you get it).
Guess what I have: XM radio. I used to love me some Ipod, but the fickle female I am, well... Let's just say: I LOVE ME SOME XM! You have no idea how nice it is to listen to real music with no commercials.
THE LE FIG HAPPY LIST:
1. XM radio
2. O&A on XM (trust me, it's I-can't-breathe funny.)
3.The Flavor of Love: The VH-1 show. It's ghetto-horror-tastic.
4. Any reality shows about tattoos -- Miami Ink, Inked (it's my new thing; just work with me)
5. Smokehouse BBQ Buffet: food--me love it, nothing more to say.
More tasty tidbits later. Stay gold, Ponyboy.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
It puts the lotion on the skin in 2006
Ah, 2005 is gone.
All hail 2006.
Sorry if you had to read other blogs in my absence. Life is tough when you have to read Ilovemycat and uglygirlwithhairlipneedslovetoo.blog when I'm not around.
Let me tell you how life has been.
Work. No gym, no travel, no trips to the day spa, just F@*#$&%! work. At least the fruits of my labor produced the rent for the new apartment. Ah yes--I am leaving the Skank Arms in one month. (The Crackheads next door actually put up a Xmas wreath. Please, it should've had hypodermic needles and crack pipes on it.)
I really haven't been out and done much; I see movies on cable and pay per view, so if you want a review of King Kong, look for my blog in 6 months.
Well--I did one thing; Rob took me to a concert. We saw X, one of my favorite groups of all time. The last time I saw them I was 14 years old and was wearing a leather Hard Rock Cafe
jacket (yes, laugh). The crowd was a bunch of young and old punks, rockabilly types, couples with their kids and there I was, Ugg boots and western shirt... Oh, I looked so hip (please: I'm 34--hip is a joke) . X put on a great show; I even tried to take a photo of the marquee with my phone (didn't work); oh well--at least I have my memories.
As I sit here blogging, drinking wine, I wish you good luck and good night and don't make any New Year's resolutions. You never keep them and by Feb., you feel like crap.
Oh, and make sure to check out Silence Of The Lambs--The Musical.com. You'll thank me...
All hail 2006.
Sorry if you had to read other blogs in my absence. Life is tough when you have to read Ilovemycat and uglygirlwithhairlipneedslovetoo.blog when I'm not around.
Let me tell you how life has been.
Work. No gym, no travel, no trips to the day spa, just F@*#$&%! work. At least the fruits of my labor produced the rent for the new apartment. Ah yes--I am leaving the Skank Arms in one month. (The Crackheads next door actually put up a Xmas wreath. Please, it should've had hypodermic needles and crack pipes on it.)
I really haven't been out and done much; I see movies on cable and pay per view, so if you want a review of King Kong, look for my blog in 6 months.
Well--I did one thing; Rob took me to a concert. We saw X, one of my favorite groups of all time. The last time I saw them I was 14 years old and was wearing a leather Hard Rock Cafe
jacket (yes, laugh). The crowd was a bunch of young and old punks, rockabilly types, couples with their kids and there I was, Ugg boots and western shirt... Oh, I looked so hip (please: I'm 34--hip is a joke) . X put on a great show; I even tried to take a photo of the marquee with my phone (didn't work); oh well--at least I have my memories.
As I sit here blogging, drinking wine, I wish you good luck and good night and don't make any New Year's resolutions. You never keep them and by Feb., you feel like crap.
Oh, and make sure to check out Silence Of The Lambs--The Musical.com. You'll thank me...
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Have a turkey leg (I eat the white meat)
Hello... welcome to LeFigland.
How, may I ask, was your Thanksgiving? Me? Oh, thank you for asking. I didn't cook; I called good ol' Boston Market. Ate spiral macaroni and cheese, so I can't complain.
Lucky me--I had four days off. I've been working many hours of overtime; I had a strong need to diffuse with poultry.
So what else have I been doing you ask? Work, work, work... Oh, I'm moving! (Sorry, completely out of nowhere). Had a happy Tourette's moment.
My most recent dilemma has been my search for a good lunch. I'm so f'in sick of Subway (screw you, Jared); so should I cook instead? Let me guess... work all day--come home--more work--then cook? Thank God my husband loves peanut butter.
Are you ready for Xmas? If you nod your head, leave my blog now. Listen, I like the whole pine tree/candy cane/egg nog/snow/good cheer thing but with the whole 60 degree weather, constant working and not wanting to buy gifts for people, makes me more excited about Starbucks ginger-cinnamon coffee than the holidays.
Happy Rudolph.
How, may I ask, was your Thanksgiving? Me? Oh, thank you for asking. I didn't cook; I called good ol' Boston Market. Ate spiral macaroni and cheese, so I can't complain.
Lucky me--I had four days off. I've been working many hours of overtime; I had a strong need to diffuse with poultry.
So what else have I been doing you ask? Work, work, work... Oh, I'm moving! (Sorry, completely out of nowhere). Had a happy Tourette's moment.
My most recent dilemma has been my search for a good lunch. I'm so f'in sick of Subway (screw you, Jared); so should I cook instead? Let me guess... work all day--come home--more work--then cook? Thank God my husband loves peanut butter.
Are you ready for Xmas? If you nod your head, leave my blog now. Listen, I like the whole pine tree/candy cane/egg nog/snow/good cheer thing but with the whole 60 degree weather, constant working and not wanting to buy gifts for people, makes me more excited about Starbucks ginger-cinnamon coffee than the holidays.
Happy Rudolph.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
There's always some schmuck ahead of you on a bike
Greetings. Miss me?
Oh, I miss you more.
My title (you may ask) -- well, don't we all feel that way? I know when my manservant, the almighty Rob, is driving me... well, there's always some schmuck on a bike in front of us. Oh, how I wish I could knock them off the road, bad drivers and all.
So I give you an early Happy Halloween. Hopefully, you will find no lead in your candy corn; no apples filled with razor blades or old Reggie bars your creepy neighbors try to pass off as candy. What shall I be doing tomorrow? Uh...working, going home. Sorry--can't go out wearing the dominatrix costume and begging for candy tomorrow. I'll leave that up to you.
You probably have wondered where I've been. Working hard, dammit. I can't be here all the time to blog and amuse you. Working my fingers to the bone.
So this is my little tidbit for you. Have a glazed popcorn ball tomorrow; smile and think of me. And watch a good horror flick -- if there are any left.
I love all of you little people.
Oh, I miss you more.
My title (you may ask) -- well, don't we all feel that way? I know when my manservant, the almighty Rob, is driving me... well, there's always some schmuck on a bike in front of us. Oh, how I wish I could knock them off the road, bad drivers and all.
So I give you an early Happy Halloween. Hopefully, you will find no lead in your candy corn; no apples filled with razor blades or old Reggie bars your creepy neighbors try to pass off as candy. What shall I be doing tomorrow? Uh...working, going home. Sorry--can't go out wearing the dominatrix costume and begging for candy tomorrow. I'll leave that up to you.
You probably have wondered where I've been. Working hard, dammit. I can't be here all the time to blog and amuse you. Working my fingers to the bone.
So this is my little tidbit for you. Have a glazed popcorn ball tomorrow; smile and think of me. And watch a good horror flick -- if there are any left.
I love all of you little people.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Short--sweet--to the point
Sorry--I just haven't had much to say.
Life seems to unfold from one sad event to another.
For the first time in my life, I really feel sad to be an American. What I mean by this is the government, not the people (well, some of the people). The image-obsessed hacks who can't do the job.
Oh, did you know... Gas is now $3.09 a gallon--thank you, Hummer-driving douchebags with your "Support The Troops" Bumper Stickers. F@&$ you.
As you can read, I'm an angry person right now.
At least I have the new fall TV season.
Oh, did you know...
There was a Blackout in California
The Four Horsemen are not far behind.
'Bye.
Life seems to unfold from one sad event to another.
For the first time in my life, I really feel sad to be an American. What I mean by this is the government, not the people (well, some of the people). The image-obsessed hacks who can't do the job.
Oh, did you know... Gas is now $3.09 a gallon--thank you, Hummer-driving douchebags with your "Support The Troops" Bumper Stickers. F@&$ you.
As you can read, I'm an angry person right now.
At least I have the new fall TV season.
Oh, did you know...
There was a Blackout in California
The Four Horsemen are not far behind.
'Bye.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Let your back feel the ground
What does this mean?
I have no idea; somebody's trying to be poetic(it was written on a piece
of paper that fell at my feet).
I write all this to say...
In the stairwell, there was a roach; all of a sudden he up and died.
There he was, in all his 12 legged glory.
So what did the neighbors do?
Wrap him in a kleenex and give the vermin bastard a viking funeral? No. Every day people would leave little messages next to his exo-skeleton.
"Here lies the roach--he leaves a wife in a pantry and 5,000,000 children" or
"Yes, I am dead".
"Loving member of the vermin population".
"If I could do it all over again, I'd live in a Starbucks".
Next thing you know, someone will make a scholarship in his name (Cock A. Roach)
In the end?
The roach is still there. Stop being funny, pick it up and flush the damn thing!
Be well and just be thankful I didn't make any Roach Motel jokes.
I have no idea; somebody's trying to be poetic(it was written on a piece
of paper that fell at my feet).
I write all this to say...
In the stairwell, there was a roach; all of a sudden he up and died.
There he was, in all his 12 legged glory.
So what did the neighbors do?
Wrap him in a kleenex and give the vermin bastard a viking funeral? No. Every day people would leave little messages next to his exo-skeleton.
"Here lies the roach--he leaves a wife in a pantry and 5,000,000 children" or
"Yes, I am dead".
"Loving member of the vermin population".
"If I could do it all over again, I'd live in a Starbucks".
Next thing you know, someone will make a scholarship in his name (Cock A. Roach)
In the end?
The roach is still there. Stop being funny, pick it up and flush the damn thing!
Be well and just be thankful I didn't make any Roach Motel jokes.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Always on my mind
Have you heard of the show "What Not To Wear"? Two English broads who tell shulmpy housewives they look like crap then give them a new haircut,
a bra that fits, and a low cut top so they can look all sexy and unrecognizable. People cry "tears of joy" and presto--life is changed (I've basically described
the premise of every reality show).
Okay, the show gets on my last good nerve, but those chicks have a point.
People truly have no concept of what they look like. Yes, this has been a problem for some time. Why, it almost feels like yesterday...a teenage Liz on the bus, on my way to school. Staring out the window, my eyes gazed upon a woman--oh, let's say 5' 4" and 250 pounds. Wearing what you may ask?
Black tight top, fuchia mini skirt. As you may have assumed, my eyes (along with everyone else's) are fixated on this train wreck. Just so you get a mental picture, her backside looked like two sacks of lumpy oatmeal.
Today, I saw a woman (teenager, whatever) on the train--looked to be about 8 months pregnant, red and black sun tattoo on her belly button and crop top.
Now, all you mothers-to-be don't get all "you're denigrating motherhood" or
"don't make fun of pregnant women". All I ask for is reasonable attire.
Just so you get a heads up--my next blog is about strollers.
a bra that fits, and a low cut top so they can look all sexy and unrecognizable. People cry "tears of joy" and presto--life is changed (I've basically described
the premise of every reality show).
Okay, the show gets on my last good nerve, but those chicks have a point.
People truly have no concept of what they look like. Yes, this has been a problem for some time. Why, it almost feels like yesterday...a teenage Liz on the bus, on my way to school. Staring out the window, my eyes gazed upon a woman--oh, let's say 5' 4" and 250 pounds. Wearing what you may ask?
Black tight top, fuchia mini skirt. As you may have assumed, my eyes (along with everyone else's) are fixated on this train wreck. Just so you get a mental picture, her backside looked like two sacks of lumpy oatmeal.
Today, I saw a woman (teenager, whatever) on the train--looked to be about 8 months pregnant, red and black sun tattoo on her belly button and crop top.
Now, all you mothers-to-be don't get all "you're denigrating motherhood" or
"don't make fun of pregnant women". All I ask for is reasonable attire.
Just so you get a heads up--my next blog is about strollers.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
It's good to be me
My work day is finally over.
I felt I should reward myself for enduring another dreary day.
What's my indulgence, you ponder?
Tasti-D-Lite (if you're not a New Yorker, you may give a blank stare; I feel sad you don't understand my joy of the plastic Kosher confection).
I digress; this blog isn't about my dietary habits.
This is a tale of getting older; regret, loss, friends, and okay--melted frozen confections.
As I stated, I'm walking down the street, minding my own business when I see a familar face (I can see them--they can't see me--eyes like a cat).
It's an old friend from college (who dated my best friend). He's with his wife (very pregnant); I'm a little freaked out. Do I say hello? Would he remember me? How do I approach this?
"Hey! How's it going? Looks like you've been busy. Good for you settling down. You never struck me as a one-vagina guy, but hey we all change. Boy, you should have seen this guy in college. Actually, it's better you didnt..."
Did I say all this? Are you nuts? I take the long walk up the hill to avoid my neighbors. No, I panicked and bolted across the street. I just wasn't in the mood. Oh--that and I suck at casual conversation.
What happened to the best friend? We drifted apart; it happens. When you start to feel like your friend only wants you when it's convienent for them and you have to buy the friendship. It's time to move on. I still care, but what am I gonna do?
Funny thing is, I really didn't know the boyfriend too well.
I kinda felt like the 3rd wheel ("it's great to talk to you, but we would like to be alone so we could fuck like rabid dogs..."). And then I would have to deal with breakup crap.
He loves me! He hates me! Ilove him! I hate him!
(Figure out a mood swing and stay with it, Sybil)
I think in the end, it was a weird sorta flashback, but I just didn't want to be bothered with a trip down memory lane.
I'm lucky I don't have some great "love of my life"; this, my friends, is why it pays to have non-descript ex's. You don't think about them and they don't think about you.
I felt I should reward myself for enduring another dreary day.
What's my indulgence, you ponder?
Tasti-D-Lite (if you're not a New Yorker, you may give a blank stare; I feel sad you don't understand my joy of the plastic Kosher confection).
I digress; this blog isn't about my dietary habits.
This is a tale of getting older; regret, loss, friends, and okay--melted frozen confections.
As I stated, I'm walking down the street, minding my own business when I see a familar face (I can see them--they can't see me--eyes like a cat).
It's an old friend from college (who dated my best friend). He's with his wife (very pregnant); I'm a little freaked out. Do I say hello? Would he remember me? How do I approach this?
"Hey! How's it going? Looks like you've been busy. Good for you settling down. You never struck me as a one-vagina guy, but hey we all change. Boy, you should have seen this guy in college. Actually, it's better you didnt..."
Did I say all this? Are you nuts? I take the long walk up the hill to avoid my neighbors. No, I panicked and bolted across the street. I just wasn't in the mood. Oh--that and I suck at casual conversation.
What happened to the best friend? We drifted apart; it happens. When you start to feel like your friend only wants you when it's convienent for them and you have to buy the friendship. It's time to move on. I still care, but what am I gonna do?
Funny thing is, I really didn't know the boyfriend too well.
I kinda felt like the 3rd wheel ("it's great to talk to you, but we would like to be alone so we could fuck like rabid dogs..."). And then I would have to deal with breakup crap.
He loves me! He hates me! Ilove him! I hate him!
(Figure out a mood swing and stay with it, Sybil)
I think in the end, it was a weird sorta flashback, but I just didn't want to be bothered with a trip down memory lane.
I'm lucky I don't have some great "love of my life"; this, my friends, is why it pays to have non-descript ex's. You don't think about them and they don't think about you.
Monday, July 04, 2005
The Numerology Special (I've done something I would not have done otherwise)
I've been reading my horoscope a lot lately. Not that I belive in any of that; personally, I think most of it is a load of recycled crap.
Taurus - You're stubborn; try to be nice, change your attitude and you will be free of the bitterness that is blighting your life. Yes--that was part of my horoscope.
Listen: if I'm bitter, it's not because I'm an water sign born in the year of the pig (okay, I would prefer snake or dragon; no woman wants to be called a
pig). On the bright side, my number in numerology is 7. Seven is the number of the mystic (ooh, my inner workings are intricate) and I have an uncanny understanding of human nature. I'm sure you are dying to meet me
now... aw shucks.
It's the 4th of July. People, please don't blow your appendages off--your
friends and neighbors will laugh at you and so will I. My inner workings may be intricate, but I'm human. If you're an adult and playing with dynamite, you deserve to be smacked upside the head with your prosthetic limb. Don't say you haven't been warned.
OFF THE SUBJECT--
I just turned 34. So by the time I'm 40, will 40 still be the new 30? Discuss amongst yourselves. Get back to me.
And finally, I actually saw a movie at the theater. "Land Of The Dead" - I give it 3 1/2 rotting corpses. Listen: I love me some gory horror movies, so when I see "dead" in the title of a flick, just call me happy. Sidebar--I find a seat; I'm sitting next to this fat, loud woman--she's holding 3 seats: one for Miss Piggy herself, but who are the other seats for? The mystery is solved when the fatamarand of a husband comes lumbering up the stairs. Who do you ask was #3? The FOOD!
Now that's a pair of fat bastards. Thank God they were quiet. During the movie, they were probably caught up in all the eating on screen.
Until the next time, stay cranky; it helps the day go by faster.
Taurus - You're stubborn; try to be nice, change your attitude and you will be free of the bitterness that is blighting your life. Yes--that was part of my horoscope.
Listen: if I'm bitter, it's not because I'm an water sign born in the year of the pig (okay, I would prefer snake or dragon; no woman wants to be called a
pig). On the bright side, my number in numerology is 7. Seven is the number of the mystic (ooh, my inner workings are intricate) and I have an uncanny understanding of human nature. I'm sure you are dying to meet me
now... aw shucks.
It's the 4th of July. People, please don't blow your appendages off--your
friends and neighbors will laugh at you and so will I. My inner workings may be intricate, but I'm human. If you're an adult and playing with dynamite, you deserve to be smacked upside the head with your prosthetic limb. Don't say you haven't been warned.
OFF THE SUBJECT--
I just turned 34. So by the time I'm 40, will 40 still be the new 30? Discuss amongst yourselves. Get back to me.
And finally, I actually saw a movie at the theater. "Land Of The Dead" - I give it 3 1/2 rotting corpses. Listen: I love me some gory horror movies, so when I see "dead" in the title of a flick, just call me happy. Sidebar--I find a seat; I'm sitting next to this fat, loud woman--she's holding 3 seats: one for Miss Piggy herself, but who are the other seats for? The mystery is solved when the fatamarand of a husband comes lumbering up the stairs. Who do you ask was #3? The FOOD!
Now that's a pair of fat bastards. Thank God they were quiet. During the movie, they were probably caught up in all the eating on screen.
Until the next time, stay cranky; it helps the day go by faster.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Share because I care
READ THIS:
Life is supposed to be enjoyed, not dreaded, so if you are in
one of those moods when everything seems gray and pointless you must
snap yourself out of it. It would help if you have something to look forward to. Your plans don't have to be realistic,they just have to be fun--you can never have too much of the stuff.
This was my horoscope on Friday. Okay, Little Miss Horoscope Fortune Teller Bitch... I'll snap out of this, get happy and tra-la-la all the way home when you give me something to work with. Snap out of it. Thanks for nothing. Why should I be surprised? It's from the Post.
My Weird Dream:
I'm in a restaurant by myself; have to use the bathroom--walking through an endless hallway, I finaly reach my destination only to find it's unisex and inhabited by snotty models who keep blocking my path. I finally get to go in--the stalls are made of glass. So when I'm doing my business, people are pointing and laughing. That's the dream. I know; I have no idea.
If anyone out there has any suggestions, I'll listen.
Life is supposed to be enjoyed, not dreaded, so if you are in
one of those moods when everything seems gray and pointless you must
snap yourself out of it. It would help if you have something to look forward to. Your plans don't have to be realistic,they just have to be fun--you can never have too much of the stuff.
This was my horoscope on Friday. Okay, Little Miss Horoscope Fortune Teller Bitch... I'll snap out of this, get happy and tra-la-la all the way home when you give me something to work with. Snap out of it. Thanks for nothing. Why should I be surprised? It's from the Post.
My Weird Dream:
I'm in a restaurant by myself; have to use the bathroom--walking through an endless hallway, I finaly reach my destination only to find it's unisex and inhabited by snotty models who keep blocking my path. I finally get to go in--the stalls are made of glass. So when I'm doing my business, people are pointing and laughing. That's the dream. I know; I have no idea.
If anyone out there has any suggestions, I'll listen.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
What's the hot fuss?
So let's get this out of the way:
It's a friggin' scorcher. I love weather that makes me feel as if I'm having an asthma attack.
Did I mention I have baby-fine hair and in humidity, turns into a stylish "just escaped from the mental ward" look.
Enough about the follicular trauma. Here are my musings:
The iPod mini has 4 new colors: red, yellow, white, black and a
lovely shade of who gives a rat's ass? It's still the same iPod, people.
Oh--one more thing: for $119.00 you can buy a waterproof case... yes, I paid $250.00 for the damn thing and spend another $119.00
so I can take it in the pool with me... show off.
I went to the zoo on Sunday; had a gay ol' time. Funny--all the animals looked the way I felt. Tired; slothlike--in need of a fan and a cold brew. My personal fave was the red panda. I wanted to give it a hug; so cute, so cute.
(You do realize if I did crawl in the cage, my panda pal would bite my ears off and all the while, small children would laugh at my misfortune and take bets on what the panda would chew off next).
Good night and have some trail mix on me (extra raisins, if you please).
It's a friggin' scorcher. I love weather that makes me feel as if I'm having an asthma attack.
Did I mention I have baby-fine hair and in humidity, turns into a stylish "just escaped from the mental ward" look.
Enough about the follicular trauma. Here are my musings:
The iPod mini has 4 new colors: red, yellow, white, black and a
lovely shade of who gives a rat's ass? It's still the same iPod, people.
Oh--one more thing: for $119.00 you can buy a waterproof case... yes, I paid $250.00 for the damn thing and spend another $119.00
so I can take it in the pool with me... show off.
I went to the zoo on Sunday; had a gay ol' time. Funny--all the animals looked the way I felt. Tired; slothlike--in need of a fan and a cold brew. My personal fave was the red panda. I wanted to give it a hug; so cute, so cute.
(You do realize if I did crawl in the cage, my panda pal would bite my ears off and all the while, small children would laugh at my misfortune and take bets on what the panda would chew off next).
Good night and have some trail mix on me (extra raisins, if you please).
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Satan, don't fail me now-- I'm on a roll
Greetings...
So who's seen the Star Wars movie?
Did ya like it?
All in favor, say "Mrrwaaaaah". (Wookie joke)
Okay, I haven't seen it. In fact, the last movie I saw in the theater was
the 9/11 movie. I know that's f%#@&&*-sad.
So, my little marzipan pigs, let me tell you the deal:
1. According to the Post I'm an "Indie Yuppie".
Because I go to Starbucks; because I own a vintage t-shirt;
maybe because I have a job where my boss changes the time on my time
sheet (to pay me less) and I feel I'm in an eternal time suck vortex
that depresses the ever-lovin' shit out of me.
Oh--take me away to Xanadu (wait, I can't rollerskate).
Yes, that's right; I just referenced that '80's classic. Well, not a classic
but leave me with my sad memories of my youth.
Sorry--I digress--I'm a yuppie because I own an iPod; that's it.
Guess what I did last week?
I had my gums scraped. It's called "scaling and root planing"
or, as I like to call it:
SWEET JESUS YOU'RE KILLING ME THIS IS THE WORST PAIN I'VE EVER BEEN IN
PLEASE KILL ME ALREADY SWEET LORD YOU ARE THE BRIDE OF SATAN GET ME A
PRIEST, GIVE ME LAST RIGHTS...
Anyway, my mouth still hurts.
All this pent up bitchin' has tuckered me out.
Talk to ya later.
So who's seen the Star Wars movie?
Did ya like it?
All in favor, say "Mrrwaaaaah". (Wookie joke)
Okay, I haven't seen it. In fact, the last movie I saw in the theater was
the 9/11 movie. I know that's f%#@&&*-sad.
So, my little marzipan pigs, let me tell you the deal:
1. According to the Post I'm an "Indie Yuppie".
Because I go to Starbucks; because I own a vintage t-shirt;
maybe because I have a job where my boss changes the time on my time
sheet (to pay me less) and I feel I'm in an eternal time suck vortex
that depresses the ever-lovin' shit out of me.
Oh--take me away to Xanadu (wait, I can't rollerskate).
Yes, that's right; I just referenced that '80's classic. Well, not a classic
but leave me with my sad memories of my youth.
Sorry--I digress--I'm a yuppie because I own an iPod; that's it.
Guess what I did last week?
I had my gums scraped. It's called "scaling and root planing"
or, as I like to call it:
SWEET JESUS YOU'RE KILLING ME THIS IS THE WORST PAIN I'VE EVER BEEN IN
PLEASE KILL ME ALREADY SWEET LORD YOU ARE THE BRIDE OF SATAN GET ME A
PRIEST, GIVE ME LAST RIGHTS...
Anyway, my mouth still hurts.
All this pent up bitchin' has tuckered me out.
Talk to ya later.
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