sassy two socks

Have you ever thought about....

2011-03-23T16:33:00.002-04:00

...the fact that when you are leaving a NYC subway during the morning commute and it's pretty packed, as it always is, and you're literally a little sardine, and you're walking up the stairs to the street single file the person in front of you's ass is just INCHES FROM YOUR FACE!!!! Now I can't stop examining the person walking in front me and stopping myself from forming the mental image of my face a mere few inches from their bare naked ass! It's really gross. Think about it.

<-- It could be this guy. Sickening.

Happy subway riding!

I am the star whisperer (celebrity-wise, not astrologically)

2011-03-22T12:58:00.010-04:00

<-- This is my coaster at work. Ain't it true?!

I've had some stuff on my mind lately and it's lead me to reinvigorate my blogging efforts, which have been pretty pathetic these past few months. Apologies to whomever you are... (is that a cavernous echo?)

First, there's something twisted about the fact that my mind immediately goes to dark and creepy places with the most mundane shit. I was recently running (okay, power walking) in the park and a recreational worker drove by in a converted golf cart, and then stopped at a wooden storage unit to load up on tools and equipment for the day. Just like when someone holds up those cards with giant stains and blots on them and asks you what's the first thing that comes to mind (I just googled it and they're called Rorschach cards), my immediate thought was, "that's a great place to store a dead body." I know, it's twisted and freakish. Now I'm worried that if my brain were tested for the serial killer trait I would test positive. But upon further thought I realize that the concept of storing a dead body in the wooden storage unit is flawed and would surely put me in big house. What's worse-the initial thought or the analyzing? One, it's a locked unit so unless I picked the lock or broke it somehow I wouldn't be able to get in. Two, it's wood. So if the D.B. (that's what the call it on CSI) were bloody it might seep out and someone might see it and call the po po. Three, the park workers probably go in the storage unit every day or every few days, so they'd likely find it before it even started to smell. Which leads me to point four - it's a high traffic area and would eventually smell. Unless I hid the D.B. in Winter when it was cold and there was less park workers and general patrons of the park around. Which might buy me a bit more time. However, if I were super stealth with DNA and other forensic shit it might not matter if the find it, but every criminal knows it's easier to walk free of a murder rap without a body! Either way you can see why I'm disturbed by my own mind. Scary shit, yo. Note to self: I'm watching waaaaayy too much crime television...

On a final note, I've seen three celebs in as many days. I saw Alec Baldwin on Sunday, riding his bike through Broadway traffic WITHOUT A HELMUT!, Kevin Bacon this morning in Central Park walking his two dogs, and Donald Sutherland this afternoon cruising through SoHo looking like a giant q-tip with his bleachy white hair. When will my streak end?? Stay tuned to find out.

PS - I'm totally expecting the NYPD to come to my door tonight and either a) arrest me for premeditated murder (even though I have yet to identify a target) or b) ask me to consult for them since my mind works like that of a criminal.

Random thought of the day

2010-10-28T11:12:00.003-04:00

Why is a case of wine 12 bottles, a case of whiskey 12 bottles.... but a case of beer is 24? I'm at a loss.

At first I thought it could be related to the alcohol % and volume - i.e. you got equally fucked up from each case of said alcoholic beverage, but that doesn't work when you think it through:

A case of beer will cause you to wake up on your front lawn with a grass stain on your face and bloody knee that you don't know how you got.

A case of wine will put you in the hospital getting your stomach pumped.

A case of whiskey will kill you.

So that theory is out the door.

What's your theory?

PS - SassyTwoSocks was referenced by Gawker a few days ago in reference to that psycho who was posting "wanted ads" for women... exciting! On a side note, I found out that my sister-in-law knows this dude, Malik. Creepy.

Is it just me or is anyone else tired of the gladiator sandal?

2010-07-10T10:00:00.000-04:00

I can't walk into a shoe store, mainstream or boutique, without being accosted by gladiator sandals. I see them and all I think about is Russell Crowe.

They are a fad that has lasted way too long. I'm sure many of you reading this own a pair and may be offended by my attack on a harmless shoe style. But let me ask you... don't you think they might just be a little ugly? Doesn't it bother you that everyone and their mother and gay brother is wearing them?

Let's review the various options, shall we?

1. Ugly. I can picture this on a homeless hippie who lost his job because he got arrested for smoking maryjane on the town common.

2. Not so bad. I barely consider this a gladiator shoe.

3. Ugly. Reminds me a parachute harness.

4. Meh

5. I just threw up. This wouldn't even look good on Giselle.

6. I just threw up again

7. Orange, really?

8. Doesn't everyone know that ankle straps like this give everyone a cankle?

9. Turquoise isn't so bad, but again with the cankle-making.

10. If I was held at gunpoint and was forced to wear a gladiator sandal, I'd pick this one.

I mean, look at this. I did a search for "gladiator" and the second most popular search is "gladiator sandals" followed by "gladiator shoes."

That's a sign right there that we need something new to obsess over. I'm open to some ideas... anyone have a good idea for a new trend to overkill???...

It sucks to be skinny AND have cankles

2010-07-09T00:00:00.000-04:00

In the midst of my panic attack about passing out with a apparent bottle of urine in my bag last night, I noticed a girl on the subway who was thin and svelt but had major cankles. And I thought to myself, "that poor, poor girl - to be blessed with the thin gene AND the fat ankle gene must suck." Big time.

You may be thinking, well isn't be thin with cankles better than being fat with cankles. Well, I disagree. At least if you're overweight, there's still somewhat of a curve to your calf/ankle area, versus your entire lower leg being one long stump.

Either way, I suppose cankles suck big time.

Do you think people get lipo on cankles? Just some food for thought on this wonderful, 99 degree Friday...

If your'e chewing, you're cheating!

2010-07-08T08:55:00.000-04:00

Today I started a 48-hour detox cleanse, along with 3 of my co-workers. It's basically Master Cleanse with a fancier name - a drink containing lemon juice with cayenne and maple syrup. I'm not sure why this concoction continues to be favored among the detoxification crowd but my theory is that the combination of sour, spicy and sweet and tricks your mouth into thinking it's actually ingesting something. But if you ask me, it's not working.

I'm a little pissed off at them calling it a "48-hour detox". In reality, the last meal I had was around 8pm Tuesday night, and I'm technically not allowed to eat again until Friday morning, so wouldn't that make it a "60-hour detox"? Why must they undermine me? If it were truly a 48-hour detox I could eat a dinner tonight at 8pm. Douches!

Last night, around the 21 hour mark I was completely looped out - everything was funny. I had more energy than I knew what to do with and all I could do was laugh my ass off at absolutely nothing.

I've literally hit the 36 hour mark since I last ate and delirium is setting in. I never thought I'd find myself so excited to drink my breakfast - because it's better than nothing.

Last night, when I left the office I brought a water bottle with some of the lemonade drink it in and put it in my purse. My biggest fear was passing out on the subway ride home and having some stranger find what appeared to be a bottle of urine in my bag...

This morning on the subway some dumb bitch was stuffing a croissant into her mouth about 12 inches away from my face. I tried to "accidentally" knock her coffee into her lap to no avail...

So here I sit, S-I-P-P-I-N-G my lemonade-y drink and repeatedly telling myself, "mind over matter, mind over matter"...

Today is my day. So shut it.

2010-03-15T13:22:00.004-04:00

In my office, each time it's someone's birthday, we photoshop a picture to include the face of our colleague, let's call him Wolf. Wolf is continually transformed into beautiful woman, famous celebrities, ladies with a bit more "girth", and famous athletes. If only each of us could be so lucky...

Here are a few examples:

And here is my very own bad birthday photoshop:

It's Jersey Shore meets the Backstreet Boys!

God, I love my job.

For what it's worth

2010-03-12T12:01:00.000-05:00

I would say my crush on Dexter is more comparable to my imaginable love affair with Anthony Bourdain than my brief crush on Bradley Cooper (which wazs ruined when he left Jennifer Aniston for Rene Zellweger - who does that? Ew.)

But then I saw this pic and I reconsidered and think I might have been a bit tough on him...

Morale of the story: don't exercise drunk and don't let the "stomach fat of life" get you down

2010-03-11T08:57:00.002-05:00

Feel free to make this your desktop background. It's mine until Summer starts.

There's nothing worse then getting back into a gym routine. You show up at the gym the first few times and feel pasty, saggy and ill equip to be mounting giant machines for long periods of time. Slowly, you'll gain confidence. But for now, it's all about hating every person with a nice set of abs and trying to secretly squeeze Crisco into their protein shake to make yourself feel better.

You start out by doing the easy stuff - like the elliptical/level 1 or the bike that is basically a video game to distract you from the fact that you're actually working out. You may try to run on the treadmill but find the exertion to interfere with your watching of Millionaire Matchmaker, which always seems to be on the gym televisions. (I heart you, Patty). So you either walk, or make your way over to the stair machine*footnote 1, which I also refer to as "my version of Hell", thinking it's better than running and risking a major treadmill fall. Fortunately, I'm not drunk when I go to the gym like that guy.

****side rant****
First of all, all you woman who put makeup on at the gym BEFORE you work out can bite me. I hate you all. Second, I'm trying out this potential new gym, and when did they start staffing live DJ's? If I wanted to go to a dance club I'd be shaking my booty at the nearest gay bar. Third, I've discovered that group exercise classes with my co-workers are ideal because my competitive spirit makes me want to crush every single one of them like a little ant.
***side rant ended***

This week, I was highly distressed when taking a class called Fluidity (which I happen to be in the infomercial for, no joke, when I was a few years younger, more agile and pretty buff, if I say so myself). I was doing a stretch where you sit on the floor, stretch one leg out and pull the other one in, while you lift your arms over your outstretched leg and lean over, getting a nice stretch in your lower back and hamstring. While I did this, I realized that I wanted to stretch even further down and out, but I couldn't! My stomach rolls were in the way. They were *physically* prohibiting me from going any further even though my muscles wanted me to!! How devastating a revelation is that?!

Regardless, my foray back into the fitness world has been a bit of a culture shock.

Here's a quiz for you (the answer is provided at the end of this post):

Due to the past few months of rigorous activity that I refer to as "watching Dexter on the couch for 5 hours straight" what of the following has occurred:

a) less focus at work
b) fewer come-ons from random strangers with wandering eyes
c) more nacho consumption (extra sour cream, please!)
d) flabbiness
e) I'm a bitch and it's a trick question
f) All of the above

footnote 1 I don't mean a Stairmaster - the pedals that just go up and down - I'm talking about the machine that is actually a set of 4 or 5 steps that rotate. Do you know how many people I've seen fall off this machine? Too many. (well, there's no such thing as *too many* because I live to see people fall, but you catch my drift). Whomever built this torturous piece of machinery should be crushed with it, slowly and painfully.

On a side note, on a scale of 1 to 10, how sad is it that the season premier of Gossip Girl is the highlight of my week?

answer to pop quiz: (f) It's shameful, really.

You know you're a bad parent if...

2010-03-10T09:52:00.000-05:00

You not only make your kid watch a maze that turns into a scary death face... but video tape him while he frantically punches the television and runs around sobbing...

Click HERE because the stupid embed code has been disabled.

There are like hundreds of these videos of parents torturing their children... even I'm not that cruel.

And just because I can (AND because you're an adult)...

You know you're watching too much crime scene tv if...

2010-03-09T09:47:00.000-05:00

- You write down or photograph the badge number of every cab you take just in case your body is found dead, so the police can trace it back to the killer.

- When the food delivery guy comes to your apartment while you're alone, you turn up the tv and talk to someone who isn't there to make him think there is someone else in the house (therefore preventing him from attacking you).

- Keep a machete under your mattress to ward off intruders (AND think you can actually use it effectively).

- Dream in the first person that you were in an episode of CSI: New York and you're being chased by a man in a clown mask with a chainsaw.

- Cross the street needlessly just to avoid a man that looks a little like Dexter the serial murdering blood spatter analyst.

- Hold your keys in your hand with the pointy end out thinking that you would stand a chance against an attacker with just a puny piece of scrap metal.

- You are convinced that the guy at the dry cleaner is in the mafia and is laundering money using the bags that carry your dirty clothes in and out of the shop. Your evidence: the $20 bill you found in your pant pocket.

- You keep your hair cut short, despite that fact that your guy prefers the Pam Andersen "just sexed up" look, so that no one can grab you from behind.

- You worry that someday the police will think you committed a crime because they found a random strand of hair or hangnail at a crime scene and consider it evidence against you. When in reality your hair just sheds a lot, you have dry cuticles, and you're a girl about town!

- You make your man sleep closer to the bedroom door so that if an intruder breaks in and tries to kill you both he'll get killed first so you have a chance of escaping.

I tried to take some pictures of me looking paranoid and scared, but this is all I got. So have a good laugh.

PS - the pictures of proof positive that I need some Botox, but Mr. T gets very upset when I bring it up. He's paranoid that I'm going to look like Meg Ryan or something. Ugh, my life is so hard sometimes...

Cape Cod meets Soho with a bit of Sass (meaning me) thrown in...

2010-03-08T14:31:00.004-05:00

That is how a colleague described this bag:

If you ever wanted to know what I would look like if I were embodied in a material item, it would be this Fatal Travel Tote by Treesje. (PS - my birthday is next week and I'm taking donations!)

I was having a conversation with Mr. T and his dad (the FIL) yesterday and the FIL brought up Munchausen's syndrome. I was nearly certain that this refers to when a mother tries to get attention by projecting illness on her child (like external hypochondria). The FIL was saying that it is actually the same as hypochondria but in the extreme. We went back and forth about what it really was until Mr. T looked it up on his iPhone. The actually definition (per some fancy medical institution) is:

Munchausen syndrome is a type of factitious disorder, or mental illness, in which a person repeatedly acts as if he or she has a physical or mental disorder when, in truth, they have caused the symptoms.

I realized at that point that 1) I was wrong, and 2) that my ENTIRE basis for thinking I knew what it was came from an Eminem song. My parents always said I should be a lawyer because I can argue anything to death, even stuff I know nothing about...

I think I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself lately to write thoughtful and witty blog entries, rather than just write whatever is on my mind each day (which tends to inherently be random and ridiculous). So I'm vowing to post every day for the next 30-days regardless of my mental state or lack of creativity. Ideas welcome...

Ask me how I wove Rob Zombie, David Caruso and Justin Timberlake into this post [cause I have no effing idea]

2010-02-25T13:19:00.010-05:00

I walked into the gym Monday morning and the lady behind the counter said, "Long time no see, stranger!" That'll make a girl feel good.

Going to gym made me remember what it's like to be human again. To have a life and a routine that doesn't include working from sun-up to CSI: Miami (god, I love that show).

(Side note: Did you know that Rob Zombie is directing next week's episode?)

Lately, I live and breath work, which could be worse because I love my job, my colleagues and my company. BUT when I wake up at 3am remembering things I forgot to do and have to write them down on a post-it next to my bed, it becomes pathetic...

Mr. T has been great with my insane schedule. And even more so, with my recent attempts at achieving some level of normalcy. He's single-handedly been running our household, as I'm pretty much perpetually in one of three states: 1) at work, 2) in transit, or 3) on the couch watching Dexter. If I had to pick a fourth state, it'd be "drunk".

(I'm saving the subject of Dexter for a later blog post... YES! it's that important.)

I've happily included a pic of Justin Timberlake on a motorcycle as an example of abnormality, if only to make myself feel better. I like the guy, don't get me wrong, but any former boy-bander would look wrong with rolled up cuffs, a backpack, and a helmet.

Lastly, I was accosted by a crazy lady in the subway two weeks ago. Literally, I was shoved and a bag I was holding went flying out of my arms and almost went over the platform and onto the tracks. I begun yelling vulgarities at her, as an involuntary response, and soon realize that if she's crazy enough to shove me and then resume her blank staring at the wall, I probably want to watch myself before I get murdered or worse...

If I was David Caruso, I would now say something vague and painfully serious, like "... and we're not going to let that happen..." and then the loud screaming of The Who would kick in.

There's no better way to say I love you [didn't I use that blog title before?]

2010-01-22T18:47:00.004-05:00

I came across this vulva portrait necklace in Cosmo magazine (!), as if it was completely normal... there was no mention of the fact that it's disturbing. Just the mere concept gave me a chill. I can't even bring myself to include a picture of the damn things here.

Please note the fact that "Each piece is an original, one of a kind hand sculpted image of its owner to remind her that regardless of what the world and the people in it may tell her: she is beautiful."

The fact that someone might actually have this made, let alone send pictures of their own vajayjay, is just mind boggling to me. Cause you know there's some skeevy old perv on the other end of that purchase just waiting for unsuspecting feminists or clueless boyfriends/girlfriends to send along a picture of a big VAJ! thinking that someone might actually think that this is a gift of some kind...

I mean I'm all for a woman feeling powerful and beautiful, but can't you just go buy a pair of nice shoes on sale or put on some sexy underwear?

Seriously. Ick.

More on this later.... it's Friday at 7:13PM and it's officially the weekend (or some semblance of what I call "weekends" these days)...

Tim Burton and I may be soulmates

2009-12-10T15:27:00.004-05:00

I've always been into very macabre artistry, like Edward Gorey and Tim Burton. I don't know why. Perhaps it's because everyone has a dark side that wants to get out? Or perhaps not, and I'm just messed up?

It's funny because I can't even throw a gum wrapper on the ground for fear of bad karma, but I delight in reading Edward Gorey's Gashlycrumb Tinies, about a class of schoolchildren dying in various ways.

I recently visited the MoMa where there is an extensive Tim Burton exhibit, ranging from movie costumes (Edward Scissorhands, Beetlegeuse, among others), to sketchbook drawings, to paintings and sculptures. It was amazing and I feel like I need to go again just to take it all in. I have fallen in love with the miniseries Stain Boy of his. It's sick and twisted, and yet cute at the same time. Is that possible?

Here's a little viewing of Stain Boy for you:

There are many more of these if you fall in love like I did... just head to YouTube.

Feel free to comment and tell me how fucked up I am. I won't take it personally... promise.

O.M.G. Seriously?

2009-12-02T17:57:00.000-05:00

A great way to start my day...

2009-11-17T09:17:00.005-05:00

Don't ask me why this prompted me to post for the first time in a month. Cause I have no answer for you...

Let me set the stage for this morning's traumatic event.

This morning I woke up exhausted. Couldn't sleep. No idea why. About once a week, I sleep like shit cause my mind is reeling and nothing I do (read, watch tv, count backwards) seems to help. So I wake up, after falling asleep at 3 or 4am) super groggy and tired. As usual, the cats are eager for breakfast and are mewing up a storm.

I realize I'm a complete a-hole. I was supposed to work from home today because I have a mid-day doctor appointment, but I left my laptop at work the night before. So I have two options: 1) Get showered and dressed, go into work for an hour or two, then leave the office early for the doctor's appointment and afterward work from home for the afternoon, or 2) Put on my giant sunglasses and gym clothes, and trudge to the office before anyone else gets there, snag the laptop and make it home in time for my early phone meeting. I choose option 2.

I'm in my already worn, nasty gym clothes and sunglasses that cover half my face, walking to Starbucks. Because there's no way I can face the day, tired and heading to the OBGYN (fun times), without caffeine. I get my fix and an eye roll from the cashier and I'm headed to the subway station. It's 7:15 in the morning, early, but still enough people around for it not to be entirely deserted. I'm groggily strolling along, sipping my iced tea, annoyed that I have to go into the office, WHEN.................

A FREAKING DEAD BIRD HITS THE PAVEMENT A MERE FOOT FROM MY HEAD!!!!!!

At least I think (or hope) he's dead before he hits the ground...

He falls hard and fast, with a thud and a slight crunch. I say, "OH FUCK" out loud and just stand there for what felt like 30 seconds but was probably 1. I turn around and a woman is about 10 feet behind me but is looking at her phone and hasn't seen the poultry falling from the sky.

It's not a large bird, just your average small bird, but I'm amazed at how hard it lands. His wings aren't splayed, his feet aren't mangled, he's just in a tight little bundle, like a chicken nugget, or how I would imagine him sitting on a branch, scoping out the lady birds. I look up, expecting to see the tree that it fell out of. But all I see is 30 stories of stark cement buildings. No foliage of any kind. Where could this little guy have come from??? (I don't know why I assume it's a boy, but I just do...)

I quickly come to the conclusion that either a) god is punishing me and is raining dead animals down on me, b) the swine flu has migrated to birds, or c) the bird flew into a window, knocked himself out (poor guy), and fell to his death, nearly taking me out with him.

I'm still freaking out at the fact that this *THING* with a sharp beak and mini-dagger-claws fell from the sky with the downward speed of a rocket and nearly landed on me. I don't care if he hit my head, my arm or my Starbucks, I literally don't know what I would have done if he made contact with me. I guess there's a chance that I could have been knocked out. Which probably would have been for the best, because honestly, I think I would completely lose my shit. Flailing around. Screaming. Shaking the dead birdiness off of me. Jeeeesus.

I'm definitely a bit traumatized by my run in with death this morning. Regardless of the fact that it was probably Darwin's theory of evolution at work.

R.I.P. Little Birdie.

If you think YOU got too drunk...

2009-10-16T13:52:00.001-04:00

Watch this guy...

Worst Shopping Run Ever - Watch more Funny Videos

All the single ladies! You're prayers are answered!

2009-10-03T10:31:00.000-04:00

Parkour! done wrong

2009-10-02T10:27:00.001-04:00

I nearly pissed myself when I saw this.

Do any of you know the movie House of 1,000 Corposes, directed by Rob Zombie? It was his first movie (and unfortunately, his worst) and the kid who played Fishboy was Dwight! Who knew that Rob Zombie discovered Dwight...

Where's Sassy???

2009-10-01T17:00:00.008-04:00

Honestly, I have no idea.

Mr. T says I don't *write* anything on my blog anymore. That I merely post obscene pictures and cat videos. To that I say, eff off. You try and work a bazillion hours a week, keep your fat ass in shape, be a wife, a good cat-mommy, AND blog about cool shit!!!!

Ok, it *IS* possible. I think.

So the real question is: Where *IS* Sassy??? (I'm picturing Where's Waldo? from when I was a kid).

So the answer is... I'm trying to find some sense of balance in my life and not doing a great job at it. My work life is insane, though I do love my job and coworkers, almost to the point of a cult-ish obsession, (so I can't complain too much there). I am struggling to get exercise in, which I need more for my sanity and destressing then for vanity reasons (even though my ass is a *titch* larger these days). Why is it so hard to find balance?

I feel like I need a bit of zen in my life right now. Some cool cucumbers on my eyes. A soft breeze on my face. A deep foot rub. And some new clothes (cause doesn't a new outfit always make you feel better?) Maybe I'll buy one of those miniature zen gardens for my office... you know, the little black box with the stones and rake. I never quite got those things... the only fun part was drawing perverted symbols in the sand and seeing if your co-workers would notice (which they usually didn't.... losers.)

So now you know. I'm pretty much in shambles. Ok, well that's a bit of an exaggeration. But you know where I'm headed with this. I could use some advice for finding time to do all the things you need *AND* want to do in your life.

Yours truly,
Forever Sassy

As a Masshole and Red Sox fan, this could be the best thing I've seen in months

2009-09-25T09:25:00.001-04:00

MA Men from Joey McIntyre

Why you shouldn't eat too much garlic...

2009-09-20T12:36:00.000-04:00

Keep fucking that chicken!

2009-09-19T10:32:00.000-04:00

New York newscaster on live tv...

Why I love cats... because the make no sense...

2009-09-18T10:22:00.000-04:00

Really busy so this is all I'm capable of...

2009-09-17T13:19:00.000-04:00

What kind of idiot sprays themselves with deer piss?

2009-09-14T11:05:00.004-04:00

I recently saw a clip of two deers attacking each other on TV. I've always thought of deer as sweet, docile animals. You know, like Bambi. I never took the time to think about how they would defend themselves when threatened. I mean, they don't have big fangs to bite with, or a long tail to thrash with, or claws to shred with. Some of them have antlers, but that's beside the point.

When I saw a deer actually fighting, I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself.

When a deer is fighting, it stands up on it's hind legs and thrashes its front hooves up and down really quickly. Kind of like how you''d picture a really wimpy person flailing their arms in front of them to defend themselves, except without hooves.

Then Mr. T told me about an episode of "When Animals Attack" that he'd seen years and years ago, about some IDIOT! who sprayed himself with female deer pee and then proceeded to get shredded by a male deer because he was pissed off when he realized that this hunter was not a female in heat. I don't blame the deer, frankly. It's kinda like thinking you're about to get laid and then getting blue-balled instead.

And while I searched for the When Animals Attack video, I came across this one, of a 6-legged deer, and it broke my heart. Seriously, I've deeply saddened right now.

I l-l-l-l--l-l-ove you too!

2009-09-03T08:28:00.002-04:00

This just made my day. You need to watch it to the end because the cereal box cat might be the best part of this...

Just passin' you on through....

2009-09-02T10:28:00.001-04:00

Today I'm just going to share a website with you that you may love, hate or both. I personally find it semi-revolting and yet I can't look away...

People of Walmart

These toes weren't made for walkin'...

2009-08-31T09:02:00.003-04:00

Apparently, my toes are freakish. Remember that pic of my branch-like 2nd/3rd toes? Well, my coworkers are now referring to it as the "chicken-toe". Fun times.

Here's another toe-related ha-ha (at my expense... as usual) for you:

The ladies buy a lot of shoes and clothes in my office, from sites like Gilt.com, ruelala.com, hautelook.com, and have them shipped to the office so all the ladies can ooh and ahh over them. It's also convenient because if something doesn't fit, you can be sure that it'll fit someone else, so we end up just buying stuff form each other. One of the girls ordered a ridiculously hot pair of Rock & Republic pumps that were just a bit too small for her. Fortunately for me, they were just my size. Sah-weet! A fab pair of new shoes and it's like they just appeared! Whilst I pranced around my office in the 7" heels, something didn't quite feel right. I looked down and the pinky toe on my left foot had popped out of side of the shoe, darting out at a freakish angle. I pulled it back in, starting to walk again, and... Oops! there is goes again. The more I walked, the more it kept popping out. And the more it popped out, the more I realized that it looked like a deformed appendage. I realized very quickly, as the smile was falling off my face, that I could in no way wear these shoes with a toe "issue" such as this --- the second someone looked down at my feet they would notice the ridiculously not shoes, in all of their glorious yellow and snakeskin leather, and then I'd see the recognition in their face as they wondered what the hell happened down there... While all of this was spinning through my head, I continued to watch as my coworkers cringed in horror at the pinky toe with a mind of its own (apparently one that doesn't like designer shoes at discount prices).

It goes without saying, that I DID NOT buy the shoes off of my coworker. She will be sending them back. What a sad, sad story.

Well, here it is...

And a bit closer....

And the zoom shot of my little piggy who went to the crazy-toe market and didn't like the shoes... what a jerk.

Go ahead, laugh. Why else would I share this with you...???

PS - Shoe me some designer love...

...if you are interested in any of the sites I shop at, please use these invite links as it'll give me a referral bonus. Love ya, biatches!

Gilt Group
Rue La La
Haute Look

Some things are just too sad for words...

2009-08-28T09:07:00.000-04:00

Burrito dreams and carbhydrate rainbows

2009-08-27T13:56:00.001-04:00

I'm so hungry. I think today is my crash day on this "raw cleanse" ~~death by starvation~~ detox that I chosen to do. I'm having a hard time remembering why I decided to do it in the first place right now.

All of my a-hole coworkers decided it was burrito-cart day and brought back giant burritos with "crack sauce" (that's really what it is called), and it smells so good in here I want to eat the air right now. Douchebags.

On a random note, have you ever wondered why that horrible Britney Spears movie, Crossroads, is always on tv on some channel that you've never heard of? Every single time I channel surf I inevitably stumble across it. If you haven't seen it, it's almost worth it just to sit there the whole time and grimace at her ineptitude for acting.

Aren't we all a bit of a masochist?

2009-08-25T09:11:00.003-04:00

The visit with Mother and Aunt went well. Sad to see them go home (if only for the reason that it means I had to go back to work again).

Today is not only Tuesday, it is the second day of my 5-day "raw cleanse". For 5 entire days I'm eating nothing but uncooked fruits, veggies and a few nuts. Sounds crazy. Hence, the title of this post. I am doing it for two reasons: 1) the obvious, weight loss, and 2) because I've just felt "off" lately–like I'm saturated with the crap that I put into my body, like alcohol, sugar, vats of mac'n'cheese, mashed potatoes, bread.... GOOOOOOOD, I'm getting hungry writing that.

So I am guaranteed to be crabby and bitchy all week. My poor friends and family. At least I've forewarned them.

On a happier note, I saw the infamous He-Man this weekend while in a cab driving down 9th Avenue, at about 46th Street. It was my first sighting of the superhuman man who walks around shirtless and beefy. It was a very exciting moment for me.

Ok. I'm going to go eat an apple. :-(

Possible TMI situation

2009-08-21T09:23:00.001-04:00

I've been trying to cut back on "personal grooming" expenses the past few months, and I'm having a hard time deciding which ones are truly necessary and which ones are frivolous.

For example, pedicures in the Summer are necessary. In the Winter, they are not. Eyebrow waxing is necessary because otherwise I'd have a unibrow (What can I say? They're thick. Some women would DIE for thick eyebrows, or so I'd like to believe.). Massages are a luxury. But the one that I'm really struggling with is waxing *down there*. You know, clearing the runway, etc.

Years ago I got into bikini waxing because it's smoother, lasts longer, I hate shaving, and I truly believe the myth that it grows in thicker when you shave versus wax. Also, it's more "visually appealing" for men (duh). However. Ugh. Here comes the TMI.

TMI #1: I prefer brazilian waxes. Which means everything. Including your um..... butt strip.

TMI #2: I was trying to save some cash this Summer and shaved recently because ~~it was like macheting your way through the jungles of Borneo~~ I couldn't wait any longer and didn't want to spend the $100 to get waxed. Bad, bad BAAAADDD idea.

Now it's growing back all thick and stubbly, which is obviously not attractive at all. And also, it's itchy. So I'm practically walking around scratching myself like I've got balls, and people are thinking that I've either i) got crabs or ii) a yeast infection.

So now I'm wishing I just sprang for the brazilian wax instead of buying a new Summer dress when Summer is nearly over (sadness), and it's almost worst to have itchy stubble down there then be o'natural (that's the second time I've said "o'natural" in like a week and ironically it was also about vag), and now I'm going to stop because I fear that I may have lost you forever.

Tough times in this economy. Tough times indeed.

PS - I took this picture of my toes for two reason. 1) my toenails are like daggers right now because the last time I had them file instead of cut them and that was a mistake. 2) I only noticed at the very moment that I took this shot that my toes are freakish and would not suffice for anyone with a foot fetish. Do you see how my second and third toes are coming out of what looks like one toe? Kind of like two twigs coming off one on larger branch? Ew.

So you want your cake and want to do what to it too?!?

2009-08-19T08:39:00.001-04:00

My sister-in-law, let's call her Bunnles (I'll explain the name later), found this personal ad taped to a phone booth in Hell's Kitchen. It is SOOOOO good that she tore it down and pulled it out of her handbag while we were chatted over margaritas the other day. Just in case you can't read the pictures, here is what is says:

FOR WHITE CUTIES & HISPANIC HONEYS ONLY!

I'm a 39-year old single black male looking to date highly-attractive single white & Hispanic women with long blonde and/or red hair, beautiful legs, face and body (must be big-chested) between the age of 21 to 45. Also, must be independent, career minded, smart, non-smoker, drinks occasionally, into going to movies & nightclubs, enjoy listening to hip-hop, house, dance, freestyle, techno & disco music (+ a little reggae tone), listen to KTU (103.5 FM) on an everyday basis, must be promiscuous (in other words... must be into swinging!), be a great kisser, into threesomes (2 gals & 1 guy) & foursomes (3 gals & 1 guy), into looking smokin'-hot, wearing mini-skirts, daisy-dukes, & spiked heels (5-6 inches), drug & disease free (safe sex minded), willing to take turns paying on dates (no gold diggers), have long fingernails, must be a big New York Rangers fan (must love hockey!), into roller (inline) & ice skating, & playing video games. Also must be a N.Y. Mets fan + love the color RED!

But please no:

She males
Transvestites
Cross dressers
Transsexuals
S&M
B&D
NOR FATTIES!!!
(in other words... "BE REAL!!!")

So if interested please call me, Malik Turner at ....
All 5 boros & Long Island can respond.

Oh really?! Malik really knows what he wants. And I guess that's not a bad thing. But this guy is going to spend his entire life looking for someone who a) either doesn't exist, or b) is so similar to himself that he'll end up fucking the female version of himself (which frankly, I think too many men would love). This is the most ridiculous personal ad I've ever seen. Ladies - if you wear 4" heels, you're out. If you live in New Jersey - you're out. If you do not have blonde and/or red hair (why the "and"? that sounds like a horrible dye job!) - you're out. If you aren't into sharing your man with other people in the bedroom - you're out. If you don't listen to KTU on AN EVERYDAY BASIS - you're out. If you don't look good in daisy-dukes, you're out. Come on!

What I can say for this guy... is that he's got excellent punctuation. Koudos, Malik. At least you're doing something right.

Feel free to call him and see if you make the cut. We did. And apparently he doesn't like Russian women who prefer to shave rather than wax... darn it to hell.

Who wants a spanking?

2009-08-18T09:19:00.000-04:00

So I'm guessing that no one is *really* all that interested in hearing the detail of my dysfunctional family, cause honestly WHO'S FAMILY ISN'T EFFED UP?! You all have enough of your own, so why do you need to hear about mine?

Instead, let's move onto bigger and better things!

Look - my cat likes cantaloupe!

Ok, no one cares about that either.

Tomorrow will knock your socks off though, all two of them, with the most insanely insane personal ad I've ever seen.

Mother is back in town. Oh god.

2009-08-17T08:41:00.002-04:00

In a few mere days my my mother is back in NYC for her semi-annual visit. My aunt is coming with her. Last time the both of them were visiting a lot happened. Por ejemplo:

1. My mother and my sister got matching foot tattoos. My aunt also got one, but on her calf. I opted to sit that one out.

(Clearly my sister and I both get our stubby, fat feet, from my father. Thanks a lot, D.)

2. While Mr. T demonstrated his "mad dance skillz" (notice the quotation marks) my aunt thought it would be funny to straddle him like a horse whilst slapping him in the ass to make him go faster... my sister clearly felt the need to point out the fact that the situation was ~~awkward~~ awesome.

3. I had to pay $600 to have my awesome red couch professionally steam cleaned...

This is the only decent pic of my couch that I can find, and it happens to have my mother and Hermione in it. Awwwwww.

Lest you think we're a dysfunctional family, I will elaborate.... tomorrow. ;-)

This is my day-to-day lately...

2009-08-14T08:53:00.000-04:00

Revenge of the plastic people! BEWARE!

2009-08-13T09:45:00.000-04:00

Bad plastic surgery is like a train wreck. You can't look away, no matter how disgusting, hideous or horrific it is. And that is why when I came across this article by the Daily News I HAD to share it with you.

Though I must warn you that these are not for the feint of heart. These people make Pam Andersen and Dolly Parton look good!

Katie Price (aka Jordan) is a British lingerie model and reality show star. Um, what are you English people thinking indulging this She-ra wannabe????

I think this is what happened to poor Ice-T's wife here: 1) Got botox too many times 2) Realized that her face was now crooked 3) Got triple-G implants because she'd rather have people stare at her chest than her sideways face. Sad, very sad.

Why is the "Michael Jackson" nose disorder a family trait? Mean? Perhaps. But true.

Why does bad plastic surgery look even uglier on men? Is it because they are supposed to age gracefully? And salt-n-pepper hair and a few crows feet are supposed to look sexy (aka. Richard Gere)?

Another perfect example. I mean who are these people going to? Aren't they supposed to be the richest and most famous people in the world? You'd think that they could afford a surgeon who knows what they're doing. I mean, who would continue to do surgery on these people! I could go on a tirade right now... but I will spare you.

ANOTHER British model, this time a lingerie model. What is it with you people?? Ok, if I were a guy, MAYBE I'd want to hit this shit just to see what it was like. Honestly, she should be more ashamed of her outfit than her bad boob implants.

Why do people who've had plastic surgery go to all lengths to lie about it? Octo-mom swears she's never had ANY work done. Uh-huh. And you're not crazy either...

Ok, so she's kinda normal. But how did she get her boobs into the dress without her nipples showing? Impressive.

I'm leaving the scariest for last. Truly this gives me nightmares. She calls herself the Catwoman, and is a socialite who has reportedly spent $4m on surgeries. Seriously, I have no words.

That's it for Plastic People Wednesday! Now go look in the mirror and tell yourself you're beautiful... cause you are.

Am I naked obsessed?

2009-08-12T09:31:00.001-04:00

Why is it that my last few posts have all been about nudeness, nakedness, giant vaginas or super-sized boobs??? There seems to be an unintentional theme starting here...

Alas, this is why you're here in the first place... cause I'm a big perv AND YOU LOVE IT! Don't lie to yourself.

So, I'm back. Don't mark my words or anything but starting today you have my promise that I'll post something every other day at a minimum. (But I can't promise that some of them won't be stupid pictures or videos, like what occurred during my "lazy video phase of May 2009").

And yes, I am scared of sewing machines. Despite my mother having shown me how to use a sewing machine several DOZEN times throughout my childhood, I seem to have repressed those memories as I find them to be needly, stabbing machines of death. Scary shit.

Stay tuned... tomorrow is Plastic People Day!!!

Who you callin' a big vag?

2009-08-11T09:19:00.005-04:00

I walk by these advertisements EVERY SINGE DAY in the subway on my way to work.

What does this remind you of?

And this?

These next few I took with my iPhone this morning because I can't find them all ANYWHERE on the Web... even with my superior Google abilities...

Are you having flashbacks of coming out of your mother's womb yet?

There's nothing quite like giant 20-foot posters depicting vaginas at 8 AM...

Honestly though, I love this campaign. It's very o'natural. Plus it makes me want a martini for breakfast. MMMM mmmm MMMM!

Good work, Absolut, good work.

Do you worry that your breasts take too much of a beating every day?

2009-07-30T12:15:00.003-04:00

I share this with you for no reason other than to show you what a set of G breasts look like when running with no bra on... CLICK HERE

I feel a little inadequate because I'm pretty sure my breasts would not look this good bouncing around. I feel like I have to test this out by running naked in front of the mirror because this looks like only her nipples are moving.

I SEE NUDE PEOPLE!!!... or is it sick people?

2009-07-20T11:29:00.003-04:00

This weekend my husband, Mr. T, informed that if he ever has the opportunity to director a porno, it would be "The Sexth Sense". It would be about a guy who sees nude people having sex at locations where risque acts have been performed all around NYC. E.g. a park bench, an elevator, the back of a taxi, the top of the Empire State Building, and so on. While I agree that this would make for a great porn flick, I have to believe that someone has already done it, as most mainstream movies become a porno in some fashion. E.g. Crouching Tiger Hidden Pussy. Great name, I know.

So, I was super sick last week, and my dad thinks it was swine flu. No joke. Oh, and it is important to tell you that my dad is a doctor so he's not just some hypochondriac of a father who is trying to freak me out and therefore keep me closer to the "nest". I had a viral infection that started with congestion, headache, fever, achiness and exhaustion which lasted 2-3 days. Isn't it the worst when every inch of your body hurts to touch? Like even your scalp is tender and your clothes cause discomfort? Awful. Because I've been so crazy with work and stressed out, I think my immune system was low, so it turned into a bacterial infection and I was miserable, with a cough, sinus pressure, headache. To put it bluntly, my snots were neon yellow on the 5th day - never a good sign. To top it all off, last week might have been my busiest week in months so I was still in the office 11 hours or more each day. So my dad called me in a Z-pack. It might as well be called a Z-it-could-cure-Laura-Flynn-Boyle's-anorexia-Pack. It's *that* good.

While I'm not opposed to taking drugs when I need to, I usually do so as a last resort. I'd rather allow my body to fight it off naturally if it can. Even though I was miserable last week it wasn't until the 4th day that I caved and bought Non-Drowsy Sudafed, which let me tell you, is like drinking 10 cups of coffee. It's a miracle. And then I only got on antibiotics when absolutely necessary. I've heard too many stories of people building up immunities to antibiotics and then they die because the Z-pack won't work anymore. That would suck.

So now I'm "better" but still don't feel 100%. How bullshit is that? It's Day 10 and I'm not feeling great yet? It's amazing how when you combine stress and a virus it takes you down hard. Those damn, sneaky little buggers.

And the real kicker is that I'm not one of those people who loses their appetites when they're sick. The least I could get out of these horrible last 10 days is to have lost 5 lbs!!! But NOOOOOO, I crave comfort food when I'm sick, so now I'm still tired, practically have permanent bags under my eyes, AND I've gained 5 lbs. Kiss my ass, germs.

Sassy's tip of the day***: Growing up with a father for a doctor, I consider myself to be well informed in the area of diagnostics. If you have a cold and you're not sure if you need antibiotics yet, here is how you know: if your snots are yellow *during* the day. I say this because if they are yellow in the morning when you wake up, but then clear up during the day - you're probably fine to wait it out. If they are still yellow after your initial morning nose-blowing, then you have a bacterial infection. The darker the yellow the worse you are. You can thank me later.

***DISCLAIMER: Sassy is not a doctor, even though her dad is. And just because she thinks she knows everything, she probably doesn't. Take her advice, and pretty much anything else she says, at face value and know that it's probably a load of shit.

Meatheads, the lotto and asian porn

2009-07-09T17:07:00.002-04:00

I saw this video today and couldn't stop cracking up. You know what I call these guys? Goombas.

They HAVE to be from New Jersey.

The other day I was thinking about the lottery and how no one really considers buying lotto tickets until the pot is over a million dollars. They're like, "Oooh, the lottery is up to $113M! I *have* to get a ticket!" Is $99M not enough for you? Why wait until it's that high? Cause I would take $1M, $5M or even $75M if all I had to do was buy a few measly $2 ticket. Seriously.

Oh, I finally remembered why I kept teasing you with Asian porn promises. (Another good potential blog name: Asian Porn Promises.)

I heard that China is putting blocks on all computers being imported in their country or built within the country so that porn cannot be watched on the Internet in China. How fucked up is that?!?! Taking away a citizens right to watch porn is the last straw in my opinion. I mean, let them dictate how many kids I can have, and let them tell me how to live my life... but *DON'T* let them take my porn away. Cause isn't that one of the few things that gets a communist through their day? The ability to watch an occasional sweaty orgy or lesbian butt-plus scene to get you through the night... It's just plain wrong.

China also started blocking Google and YouTube. What is the world coming to?

I'll leave you with this. This poor 22-year-old guy died after falling into a vat of hot boiling chocolate at a factory in New Jersey. Now I am not making fun of this. It sucks. It's sad. But honestly, I can't help but thinking that there are much worse ways to go if you're gonna die. At least your last few moments in this world are being fully immersed in chocolately, tasty goodness. Brings a whole new meaning to "death by chocolate".

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Wine and cupcakes

2009-07-02T09:00:00.001-04:00

Should that be the new name of my blog? Cause wine and cupcakes are just divine!

This was my night last night. Work has been so crazy lately, but it's all good. Last night, while I stayed late at work, I drank Pinot Grigio (not my #1 choice) and ate a homemade cupcake with coconut frosting. Mmm mmm good. What is better? Nothing. Except not getting a fat ass.

I moved the setup of my office around today. Very exciting stuff. It's like a whole new world in here. Love. It.

My kitten Tonks seems to be growing. But not in the right places. While her cute body continues to get bigger, her little head stays the same size. Poor thing is starting to look like that character with the shrunken head in the waiting room in the movie Beetlegeuse.

The worst day of your life?

2009-07-01T18:02:00.000-04:00

Go ahead. Laugh at me. It's okay.

2009-06-24T08:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I wore my husband's jeans to work. I've been stealing them lately because 1) I realized I could fit into them, and 2) they are super comfy, like sweatpants. Plus, isn't there something sexy about wearing your man's pants?

Yet he continues to not comprehend my interest in his clothing. I'm thinking about starting to borrow his buttondown shirts and wear them with skinny jeans. Hot, right?

So anyway, here is me in my office in Mr. T's jeans. When I say "laugh away at me" it's because I'm so un-photogenic that I tend to make stupid faces in every picture (hence the body shot with no head being first). The last one is my attempt at trying to look like a normal person.

Strike a pose.

Giddy-up. (look at those tummy roles!)

See, what did I tell you?

I'm trying... I really am...

Who's a bad mutha???

PS - if you read Love Maegan... you'll know that I totally stole her one-leg-up pose. But they say copying is a compliment, right??

Sassy gets free socks

2009-06-23T10:27:00.005-04:00

This picture is of my midget feet in a new pair of socks, looking out over Broadway from my apartment. Now, you creeps out there, don't go pulling some triangulation or satellite shit to find out where I live and stalk me. Beware, my cats are vicious. And I sleep with a glock.

So, who doesn't love free shit? That's what I want to know. If you were walking down the street and a stranger just stopped you and asked if you wanted $100, no strings attached, you'd take it, right? Well, I did. And I'm damn proud of it.

So I occasionally get emails from other bloggers or websites looking for cross-linking opportunities, and that's all good. But I only ever act on those if I actually like the blogger or website itself. I can be bought. But only if I like the person who's paying me off. Make sense?

I got an email from a company called Bridgedale, who makes socks. Specifically, high-end socks made for outdoor/running use. At first I was skeptical. I thought, "they're offering me free socks, but what do they want in return? Pictures of me naked with only my Bridgedale socks? Cause that would be a no-go. My ankles don't look good in socks – I get the 'puffy ankle thing' very easily which makes my legs look like stumps." But this guy, Boo (yes that is actually his name), was super cool and said that he would send me socks and that I only had to blog about them if I wanted to, and if I actually liked the socks. So basically, free shit!! Well, long story short, he sent me *SIX* pairs of socks, three for me and three for my husband, and I had no obligation from that point onward.

But let me tell you. The socks rock. They are super comfy for running and exercising. Honestly, I have no idea what they would retail for, but if you run or get sore feet, I would advise that you try a pair. This is my favorite pair. One more item of note before I bore you to bloggy-death: the Hubs is a serial marathoner and is running his 8th or 9th marathon later this year (I can't keep track), and he has chronic foot problems when he runs. He gets bloody nails that fall off, blisters the size of half-dollar coins and lots and lots of grossness that he likes to taunt me with. And *HE* approves of the socks – loves them, in fact. We give it 4 out of 4 stars. ****

So enough marketing crap, even though I don't think of it as marketing since I willingly recommend them to you.

Onto to better stuff since I've neglected you for way too long. Here's a little something to wet your whistle while I try to remember what the hell I was talking about when I told you I would post about Chinese porn and foot fetishes:

This is what Hermy would look like with botox in her lips:

This is my brother-in-law dunking his *entire* head into a water fountain at a bar for the SECOND time in a row (the first photo didn't come out so he did it again). It's amazing what seems like a cool thing to do at 1:30 in the morning when you're drunk. The Hubs wasn't out with us that night and when he saw these pictures was like, "how did you know the fountain wasn't 4-inches deep and you weren't going to slam your head into a giant slab of rock?" Touche, Mr. T.

This is my baby kitten, Tonks, wanting to cool off from the humidity in the crisping bin of the refridgerator. Is there anything she fears?

Tomorrow I'll be telling you about how the Hubs and I booked our honeymoon airfare and how he presented a full-on PowerPoint presentation to me beforehand. Ta-ta!

something is screwy

2009-06-22T11:40:00.001-04:00

No I have not left you all forever. I've just been in "work mode" for the last few weeks. I promise I'm coming back soon.

Chew on this....

2009-06-11T17:35:00.000-04:00

Don't say I failed; just call me a procrastinator

2009-06-11T13:29:00.002-04:00

I haven't forgotten about you. I just swamped at work.

I promise a post about Asian's with inclinations for mangled toes and foot fetishes is forthcoming...

5-word teaser for tomorrow

2009-06-09T18:21:00.000-04:00

Bent feet sandals Chinese porn

Stay tuned.

-- Post From My iPhone

Thunder cats, poop and my scratchy balls

2009-06-09T15:00:00.004-04:00

You know what's funny? When it thunderstorms and the cats freak out so bad that all they can do is run around the apartment. As if nowhere is safe. Well, at the time I felt bad for them. And for me, because it was 2:30 in the morning and I was simultaneously running around trying to calm the cats and ducking when the thunder sounded like a shotgun going off next to my ear.

Last night was the first Summer thunderstorm, of which I'm sure there will be many. Last Summer we had more thunderstorms than I ever remember having, at least two a week. But so far this year it's pretty mild weather so who knows. Usually they come when it's super duper hot.

So, back to the cats. Poor little Tonks, the baby who likes to shower with me, was so scared. It was her first thunderstorm since.... well, she was born. Her whole body was rigid and trembling. She couldn't stay in one spot, even when I put her under the covers with us. I think "flailing" would be the most accurate term to describe her sheer terror. What I really want to do right now is go into how much I love nighttime thunderstorms, but I won't...

Alas, I digress. I'll move onto the real reason you're reading this post... poop.

So, as you may have seen in previous posts, I work in a loft office building. Commercial loft spaces are known for being more "laid back" and not quite as well-kept as the nicer Class A buildings. We have a lot of construction going on by us so the construction workers are always using our bathrooms. Because we're on the second floor our bathrooms tend to get used by these intruders more than others. Homeless guys are also known to wander into our men's bathroom and basically use the sinks to "cleanse" themselves. I honestly don't know how these vagrants get in because the door is locked. It baffles me. The poor men in my office usually go up to the third floor because it's so bad. One time our men's bathroom was completely covered in blood. No idea why.

You know, I should start taking short breaks at work (in lieu of smoking--- if smokers get breaks so should I!), and go down to the freight entrance to ask who wants to use the bathroom and charge a $5 fee to get in. They'll each get 5 minute to do whatever they need to do (don't think about it, it's easier that way). It would be very entrepreneurial of me if I did it. I figure, if I could take four short breaks a day and get 3 people each break, that would be $60 a day! That translates to $300 a week, $1200 per month, or $15,600 per year! That would almost support my handbag and shoe habit! Whoa... my brain can barely handle this thought process...

Today. Oh man. One of my colleagues was headed up to the third floor to use the bathroom and found a pile of poop in the stairwell. Everyone in the office decided that we needed a second party to verify that it was in fact poop. Somehow I was that person. It was clearly feces. At first glance you think it must be human, and it probably is. But I tried to tell myself that a large dog could have left it there. THANKFULLY it didn't smell. Cause I would have booted right then and there. And then the stairwell would have been full of both vomit and feces, and stunk like hell, and it would just be unacceptable that I, Sassy, contributed to a such a foul mess. Seriously, it's okay to throw up a bit in your mouth right now. Go on. Do it. I won't tell.

Lastly, I'm really bitchy today. And I thought I would share that with you. Partly cause I'm pretty mellow most of the time. Which could be because of the Xanax or Lithium that I'm on most of the time. If you say PMS, I'll strangle you. I don't believe so much in the "PMS" crap that is constantly being perpetuated. I think men are more moody than women for the most part. But today I'm just easily set off and I don't know why. Could it have been the pile of human feces? Perhaps. But unlikely since I was crabby before that event took place. People and things are just getting under my skin a little too easily. I had to turn the bitch dial up to HIGH today several times. And usually it only happens once a month or so at work. I don't have a problem being bitchy. In fact, secretly I enjoy it. But for 3 or 4 times today I was forced to rant, curse, send a snippy email and/or raise my voice on the phone, which generally means it's me. Sorry to all of my victims. Well, I'm sorta sorry.

Right now, if I was a guy, I would go home early, watch the Red Sox/Yankee game tonight and sit on the couch all night with a beer while I scratch my balls. I mean, really. When one has had such a crabby day, is there anything left to do but sit and scratch your balls? Unfortunately, I don't have balls (physically, anyway). So I guess I'll go to the gym instead and run it out. Hopefully, I don't run into this guy again. Cause lord knows I might just yank his damn pants up.

Men. [alternate title: Why acronyms exist...]

2009-06-02T10:25:00.002-04:00

Let's just take a second before I get into it to point out that this picture is me in the act of "breaking and entering" on private party in NOLA, where I *nearly* got arrested. The house is nice, right? If those awful people hadn't shown up I was planning to head up the stairs and look in the windows and see Vampire Lestat playing the piano.

So, onto more important things...

I was sitting with The Hubs at Starbucks this weekend and a woman walked by wearing tight sweatpants and a shirt that was 4 sizes too small for her and came up above her belly button. Unfortunately for her, she didn't look good. Her tummy was sagging over the waist of her pants and jiggled as she strutted past our table. Now, I get that not everyone has a tight tummy. And that is *precisely* why she shouldn't dress like that.

It is the "muffin top phenomenon". WHY!? Must women who have jiggly bellies wear shirts that are too short and pants that are too tight? I don't care if some men like a little "wiggle" or whatever... I mentioned the "muffin top" to The Hubs and he was all, "the what top?"

Can you believe he's never heard of the term "muffin top?" Shocking, really. So I explained that when a woman wears pants that are too tight thus forcing her belly to sag over the top and look even larger than it really is, it creates a shape similar to a muffin: straight on the bottom and poofy on top. Like a muffin! Rather than laugh, or say, "wow that's creative!" he ventured to an area that I was not interested in going.

He said, "FUPA." And I just looked at him with a confused face. He said, "FUPA. It's what my college buddy used to call it."

"Call what exactly?"

The Hubs responded so matter-of-factly, "Fat Upper-Pussy Area".

The sheer shock of what he just told me washed over me. "Jason used to refer to women by using the term FUPA?!?! Woooowwww..... Did he make that up?"

"Yes, Jason invented the term. And, well, it's not exactly the same as a muffin top, if I understand it correctly. The muffin top is more of a fat stomach exacerbated by pants that are too tight and/or shirts that are too short. But FUPA is actually the area below the belly button and just above the pubic region. Some women just have fat there."

I just stared it him in utter disbelief and shock. Then we just got up, left Starbucks and went about our day. But I've been thinking about FUPA ever since. Even checking out my own "UPA" to see if it's fat. It appears not to be, but I think I'm still a little fuzzy on the details...

Canine humor: your Sunday funnies with a twist of Sass

2009-05-31T10:41:00.002-04:00

My cat is broken.

2009-05-29T09:38:00.004-04:00

I think my cat is broken.

What's one of the things that cats are known to hate the most? No, I'm not talking about mice. Or dogs. I'm talking about water.

My kitten has an unnatural obsession with water. Every morning when I shower she sits on the edge of the tub meowing and trying to bat at me with her little paw. She does this until I pet her with my soaked hands while she licks water off my hand and arm. She won't leave until she's completely soaked and her hair stands up on end like Corey Haim's in License to Drive.

Then she shakes herself off like a dog and runs around until she's dry.

And then last night while I was in bed reading we played "fetch". No joke. She likes to play with my hairbands, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that she returned it to me 30 times in a row. I'd throw it. She'd chase it. She'd roll around with it for a minute or so. Then jump back up on the bed with the hairband in her mouth, drop it next to me, wiggle her butt, get a pet, and then sit patiently until I threw it again.

I'm pretty sure she's part dog.

Listen to my mom talk about her sex life.... OR... stick a rusty fork in my eye....

2009-05-28T14:01:00.004-04:00

Well, bloggy-friendies, my mom is dating (aka, having sex) again. After a dry spell of over 5 years. And she likes to talk about him, a lot. In LOTS of detail. Yes, that noise you just heard was a little bit of vomit making its way up my throat.

Let me set the stage for you all.

First, my mom reads my blog. Hi Mom! [I'm actually waving at the computer right now.] But she also knows that I pretty much exagerate and lie about everything, so she'll take this with a grain of salt just like you all do every day....

(I think it goes without saying that if my mom reads my blog and hasn't disowned me yet, she's a pretty cool mom.)

Second, my parents divorced when I was 13. Both of my parents subsequently remarried and then divorced again. My mother was also married and divorced, with no kids, before I was born. So in total, there are 4 divorces between my two parents (if you count their one from each other as 1 and not 2).

It's amazing I'm married, huh?

Ok moving on... after my mom's last divorce she moved out West, just north of San Fran, to help my grandfather take care of my grandmother who was suffering from Alzheimer's. She was also a bit worn out from failed relationships and had no desire to date. I think she just shut off her "man detector" for a few years while she figured things out. Who could blame her really? But there was always a small part of me that wished she would find someone because we all want our parents to be happy, right? I also knew that she would find someone again when she was ready.

Well *bbooooooooooyyy*, let me tell you, she was ready. "Hot and heavy" is an understatement. After two decades of infreuqent run-ins and sexual tension so palpable the air tasted like Gandhi's flip-flop, my mom finally reunited with someone from her past. They say timing is everything.

I talk to my mom on the phone at least once a week, sometimes more. Conversations used to pretty mild and mostly about what is going on my life. Now, this is pretty much how they go:

Me: Hey Mom! How are things?

Mom: Hi Sweetie! Greeeeeaaat. Things with Mr. T are going so amazing.

(yes, her man's name is also with "T" and *yes* she actually calls him that.)

Me: Oh great [eye roll], I'm so glad to hear th....

Mom: Yeah, he's just the most passionate and incredible person I've ever met. We just can't get enough of each other...

Me: That's wonderf.....

Mom: Like last Saturday he took me out to this divey restaurant in the city and I had a glass of champagne and got a little buzzed, and we made out at the table the whole night. And I didn't even care that people were staring at us the whole time! It's like we're in our own world!

Me: Wow.... nice.....

Mom: And then after we "hung out" in his car for a while....

Me: Uh huh...

Mom: And then later that night WE MADE LOVE! [giggle giggle giggle... like a teenager]

Me: .... [gag] ....

Mom: ... he's just the most passionate, tender lover. It's like we were made for each other... we fit like a glove. And he loves seeing me naked.... and .....

Me: (thinking to myself: Am I being punked? Where's Ashton?...)

Mom: Oh, and that pair of black lace underwear you bought me for Mother's Day a few years ago.... Mr. T LLLOOOOOVVVEESSS them!

Me: (Am I being punished? Is this what God does to us non-religious folks who don't go to church?)

Mom: Well. Sorry to go on and on, but it's just going so well right now...

Me: I'm.... happy for you.... Mom. Seriously. So, what *else* is new besides your sex life being hotter than mine right now????.....

I'm sure that after this post my mom will rip into me again by leaving another anonymous rant of a comment about how she "pushed me from her womb.... blah blah blah"....

******Update: After reading this post, my mother texted me to inform me that I neglected to mention that her new man, Mr T Sr., is 9 years younger then her. In her words, "it makes the post even better!" I'd also like to point out that my hubs, the original Mr. T, is 9 years older than me. This means that my husband and my mom's boyfriend are only 10 years apart. Creepy....

This one's even better...

2009-05-27T10:37:00.001-04:00

I'm back. But I don't have pictures of my near-arrest yet...

2009-05-26T15:38:00.008-04:00

Hey folks. Nawlins was amazing! SO. MUCH. FUN.

I don't even know where to start. So I'm just gonna put a teaser out there today and highlight a few of the finer moments.

1) I really wanted to push the envelope this weekend by buying the bachelorette some really vulgar (yet practical) presents. They included Anal-Ese, which can be purchased here, and a giant black multi-speed vibrator called Jelly Chocolate Dream. I mean, who doesn't need a giant black dildo? The best part was when we somehow lost the Choco-Dream, and when it turned up in the hotel's Lost and Found, the woman behind the desk didn't want to give it up.

2) When some of us girls get together, we tend to beat things to death. Somehow, a skit from last week's SNL Season Finale with Will Ferrell came up... the one with the woman and her "baby hands," and we just wouldn't let it die. All weekend we walked around NOLA pretending we had freakishly long arms and baby-doll hands, singing in high-pitched creepy voices. It probably explains why people generally steered cleared of us. All I have to say is, "look at my pretty haaaaannndssss....."

3) Okay, okay. So I didn't come *that* close to an arrest. But it could have happened. Basically, after I hopped the gate of a private rental residence (thinking I was cool shit), the neighbors showed up, drunk and screaming, saying they were calling the police. This is after the woman yanked my friend down while she was halfway over the gate and I nearly punched her lights out. Note to self for future illegal activities: when someone threatens to call the cops on you, and what I'm doing is *technically* illegal, it's probably not in my best interest to call her a fat bitch and yell in her face. It's also not a good idea to hop a fence in 4-inch heels and a short dress. It's also not a good idea to force your friend to also hop the fence when the spikey, wrough iron fence is poking a giant hole through the sole of her shoe... repeatedly... and practically drawing blood...

4) We got stranded in the middle of the Bayou with a Parisian biker gang... on an airboat... surrounded by hungry gators. Well, okay, we weren't *technically* surrounded by gators... that we could see anyway. But they did show up later. And I wrangled one to the ground. Okay, that didn't happen either. But I did hold a baby alligator named "Su". I guess the fan belt on the airboat blew and we ended up just drifting through the swamp, aimlessly, for ~~fourteen hours~~ a half hour before we were rescued by ~~a hot crocodile-wrangler/stripper named Damian~~ old guy who shaved his armhair. Doesn't that sound like the perfect plot for a horror movie where each of dies, one by one, only to be eaten by alligators?

5) I ended up buying a disgusting, deformed alligator claw on a stick, and used it all weekend to reenact the above "baby hands" skit over and over and over.... I also named it Stewie. However, Stewie was way more deformed then either of these little guys. I think Stewie had severe arthritis during this short little life. Poor guy. The reason I don't have Stewie anymore, hence why I am not providing an actual picture of him, is because I sent him home with one of the girls this weekend, hidden in one of the zip pockets of her suitcase. She's a gynecological nurse and I thought she could use an extra hand now and then.

6) I witnessed what could be considered the greatest fall ever. We were at Goldmine, aka "hot sweaty mess central", a bar that is known for it's blaring music, 100 degree temperature, throbbing dance floor, and flaming Dr. Pepper shots. I was in the middle of one of my "intricate" dance moves when I see this guy next to us clearing a circle for his friend so she could go to town and perform the "knee jerk" dance. (Basically it's where you pull your knee up to your chest while hopping sideways.) Only this girl was wasted. I think this is what went through her mind....

"Ohmigod. Watch this. I'm gonna pull out some oldskool M-C-Hammer shit and everyone is going to think I'm sssoooooooooo awesome. Ok, dude just cleared me some space. Everyone is circled around me. I loooooovveeee being the center of attention. Especially when I'm about to *bust* some shit UP! Here. I. GO! And one-two-three.... Woot! Arms up! Knee in! This is great! Arms up-down. Knee up-in! WOOO! Look at me go! Look at everyone laughing at me...... Ahhhhaahaha! Wait... my face is wet. Why is my face wet? WAIT! There are feet next to my head! Am I on the floor?! What happened?! Why does my ass hurt?! Why is that girl over there doubled over in hysterics and pointing at me?? Did I fall...? Couldn't have... that was so awesome. But OW! People are stepping on me! Help me up ass-boy! Holy shit, I'm covered in sweat, stale beer and dirt! Sick! I'm might vomit. Why is that girl still laughing? Why is her face turning red with tears streaming down her face?! Did anyone see that?! Wow, that's gonna hurt tomorrow..."

It doesn't get better then seeing another girl end up in a crumpled mess on the floor and not even realize how she got there.

Naw'lins, you don't know what's comin'....

2009-05-21T09:27:00.001-04:00

So, tomorrow I'm off to the Big Easy for a bachelorette party. At exactly 4:00 am that is. I'll be on Bourbon Street drinking mimosas by 10:30 a.m. Does it get any better?

It's been two years since my last visit to NOLA, when I was there for my best friend's wedding.

Let me summarize why NOLA is so great:

1. The people are amazing, and friendly, and welcoming
2. It's beautiful. The architecture is a blend of French and Spanish, surrounded by greenery that is so vibrant you wonder if you're seeing it with your own eyes.
3. It is perfectly acceptable to be wasted any time of the day, especially before noon.
4. Naked breasts are a part of everyday life.
5.

6. There are many accessible places to dump a dead body. Like, say, the swamp.
7. Most foods are spicy and fried. And the calories you consume while in NOLA don't count.
8. Jazz is a way of life, and music is everywhere.
9. A little drink known as the Hand Grenade. Look it up.
10. It's haunted. There are ghosts everywhere, and everyone has a story to tell you about their personal experiences.
11. Voodoo is alive. You need candles to ward off negative energy? They got it. You need some sage to purify your living space? They got it. You need your ex-boyfriend to suffer from genital warts? They can do it.
12. Drinks are cheap.
13. Brangelina has a house there.
14. It's a giant party. All. The. Time.
15. Drive-thru margartia bars.
16. 5 cent blackjack tables.
17. Not to get sentimental, but they are survivors.
18. Typically, no one else remembers what an ass you were the night before.
19. Vampires.
20. Cobblestone streets in the French Quarter result in lots of falling.

I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am. Four days in one of the greatest cities in the world... with 11 other women, only 3 of which I know.

Whenever you get a dozen women together you never know what will become of it, but here's to hoping it's a whopping success!!!

The good, the bad, and the disfigured... [alternate title: why it's not sexy when your nipples point in opposite directions]

2009-05-20T09:04:00.004-04:00

Okay, okay. So I'm stealing this idea from the Huffington Post. So sue me. I can't help that you all visit me for your daily dose of trash instead of them....

Let me start off by saying that I have no problem with breast implants, as long as they are done tastefully. Some of my best friends have had them. In fact, if I breast feed my future children someday and my boobs end up looking like deflated balloons when I'm not wearing a bra, I WILL get something done about it. However, today is not about me. It's about Hollywood and its plethora of silicon and saline.

Here's how this will work. I will present you with 12 pictures of "famous" breasts, all augmented. I will also provide you with pithy commentary on each rack. At which point you will take note who you think owns those fat bags. Then, at the end, I will provide you with the answers. Happy breast-nesday!

Here we go:

A) Not bad. Cute bathing suit. Though get that sucker wet and it's a nip-tacular party. Hint: This person has been at the forefront of controversy for the past month or so, and probably refuses to take it from behind.

B) This woman is hot. But her boobs not so much. She's a little too skinny for them, if you ask me. I think she'd be sexier without them. Hint: "You know I don't like to wear underwear, don't you, Nick?"

C) How in the *hell* did she leave her house thinking she looked good??? I promised ugly. And this is fugly at its finest. I must confess that I had no idea who this person was even after I knew their name. But how could you forget this pair... Hint: A reality tv star who lives in my city.

D) Nice tan. Pretty dress. Boobs not too big. Though I feel they are a bit too squished together. Hint: She'll be forever your girl.

E) First off, I would get that giant mole checked out. Second, these are a perfect example of what women think are gross, yet men find ridiculously attractive. Ew. Hint: Her dog's name is Mimi La Rue.

F) There is something just "off" about hese. I can't quite place it though. Maybe it's that they are discolored? Please, enlighten me. Hint: this poor girl came out about her botched boob job in 2006 and has subsequently had them fixed (yes, this is the after-shot).

G) What is up with her armpit?? It looks worse then her breasts. Bad fake tan. One thing I don't get, and it could be because I have real boobs, but how do you push them up this much without nipple showing?? Seriously, I'd like to know. Hint: None needed. This might be the easiest one.

H) Whoa. If it weren't for the "wandering nipple" issue here, I'd say they were a decent pair. Hint: Just look at her wrinkly armpit, so you know she's old. 2nd Hint: She's a royal bitch/former model.

I) This might be the most "normal" pair in the bunch, seeing as she has stretch marks because of a subsequent reduction. Overall, not bad. Hint: Don't let this bad angle fool you, this woman has a slammin' body and has a autistic son.

J) Pretty nice, though I think the pose is what is making them look so good. Hint: This chick likes her rockers....

K) If you don't guess this one from her hair tendrils and fitted pink bodice, I don't know what to tell you...

L) I saved the worst for last. I mean, there are no words for this. This is the second day in a row that I've vomited a bit in my mouth. This should be a poster for why *NOT* to get plastic surgery. When the doctor was in the middle of surgery, did he just go "oh well, I think I'll put 300 cc's on this side, and 400 cc's on the other... she'll never know." Hint: You will not know this person, so don't bother guessing. But when I tell you who she is and why she's famous, you'll be shocked.

*****AND NOW THE ANSWERS*******

A) Yup, those breasts belong to Miss California, runner-up in the Miss USA competition. The most recent controversy: the pageant PAID FOR HER BREASTS JUST WEEKS BEFORE the competition!!!! WTF is an understatement....

B) Sharon Stone. Yup, that perky pair belongs to this cougar.

C) This concave mess belongs to Real Housewife of NYC, Kelly Killoren Bensimon. Did she get her's done in a back alley in Queens??? I don't watch the show, and now I know why.

D) Yes, this decent pair belongs to Ms. Paula Abdul. Why hasn't Simon hit that shit yet???

E) I don't care if you've had two kids or not. This is shameful. This is not the Donna that Dean married.

F) Poor Tara Reid: a broken engagement with Carson Daly, a botched boob job, and endless drunken pictures of her half- or entirely naked. I guess that's what happens when you're a slut.

G) If it weren't for the horrific, spray tan, I would think she was a auschwitz survivor. I mean, seriously?! David thinks this is hot?? I guess it explains his high-pitched, Mike Tyson voice... no man would think this is hot.

H) So Janice Dickison is hot. I'd like to believe that her nipple doesn't have a mind of its own and it's just the camera angle and her arm pressing against it. But honestly, if I look like this when I'm 78, I'll be pretty darn happy.

I) I like Jenny McCarthy. I really do. But this shirt isn't doing anything for her. Props to her, though, for getting the reduction. She used to look like she was about to float off into space.

J) Carmen, Carmen, Carmen. When will you learn that bad boys don't make for a sustainable relationship? It seems that the darker the nail polish and the tighter the pants, the more Carmen likes a guy. Did you know that she has said she regrets getting her breasts done? I think her relationship with Dennis Rodman was a result of a silicon leak.

K) Arguably one of the best racks in Hollywood, even if Mariah Carey is completely insane.

L) And because I always like to end a blog post on a scary or traumatic note, we're back to this set. Her name is Victoria Silverstedt. Still don't know who she is? Well, she was Playmate of the Year in 1977. Yup. That's what I said. This is what men found attractive in 1977. I told you it was shocking. Such a pretty face... what a waste.

There are many more of these if you want to read them at the Huffington Post article. But honestly, you won't get the same snippy level of cruelty that I just gave you, so don't waste your time...

Baaaabbbby-ayyy!

2009-05-19T09:41:00.006-04:00

I was on the treadmill this morning watch the Today Show, and all of the cast members from The Cosby Show were there. They showed this clip, and it just made my day. Matt Lauer said, "this may be one of the greatest television clips of all time." Here here, Matt Lauer.

Oh, Rudy. She was so cute.... back then. She went from this:

TO THIS!!!

Sidenote: Does anyone else find Matt Lauer ridiculously sexy? There's something about his divorced, travel-the-world-for-television, single-dad, saltiness that gives Anderson Cooper a run for his money. Additionally, does anyone else wish Matt and Meredith would just screw like rabbits and get it over with??? Sheeesh.

While I was scouring the Web for a hot pic of Matt to post for you, I found this:

... and that's why I just vomited a little bit on my mouth....

Now I'll just have to do my best to erase the disgusting images of Matt Lauer walking around in furry, pink kitten heels from my memory by staring at this for the next 7 hours.

You don't have to have a red squeaky nose to ride in a clown car

2009-05-19T02:56:00.000-04:00

This is absolutely amazing. I wish it went on longer...

Got the Monday morning blues? I've got something to wake you up!

2009-05-18T09:49:00.001-04:00

Keep on truckin' bloggy-friends

2009-05-15T16:49:00.001-04:00

I love this. It made my day.

Onwards from AKQA on Vimeo.

This is what I'm reduced to

2009-05-14T17:37:00.000-04:00

Pretty much anything makes me laugh right now. At work, we have a big conference coming up and had to put together gift bags for attendees, and since we're a start-up, everyone was chipping in. For the last 8 hours, we've been using toxic Rubber Glue to adhere pictures to oaktag cards. So, to say this another way... in our small office, two giant jars of toxic fumes have been filling up the air to point that everything looks a little hazy. Everyone is loopy, and I think our executive assistant is about to boot. I was about to log into a shared system, that always displays the name of the last user to log in, and this is what I saw:

Yup, that's it.

We're all dicks for getting ourselves high for tonight's festivities: Beer Pong Tournament. That's right. My company is sponsoring a tournament where people compete to throw a ball into one of several small cups and the losers get fall-on-their-face drunk. That ball is touched by everyone in the room, including the dirty floor, and then it falls into your cup full of beer before you are forced to chug it down in one gulp. Is this not how swine flu is spread??? This is my life, people.

Who needs a laugh today?

2009-05-14T13:14:00.000-04:00

ME! ME! ME!!! Well, here you go:

Look at this fucking hipster --> http://www.latfh.com/

Absurdity of the day (...in a good way)

2009-05-13T12:25:00.001-04:00

This kid is fucking incredible. He's probably 6 years old, and is playing some of the hardest guitar songs out there and is playing the base and lead at the same time!!!

Enjoy!

Hope your day isn't covered in port-a-potty poo!

2009-05-09T10:22:00.000-04:00

Happy Saturday!!!

This is so damn funny I can barely breathe....

2009-05-08T15:17:00.003-04:00

This is killing me. Not only is it clips of hysterical shit, which you know I love, but this cat is freaking hilarious!!!! He's like the Stevie Wonder of catdom, except he's not blind!

You have to go this site and watch them all. It gets better and better.

Unfortunately, I'm a little late to the game, as this has been viral for a while now.

Alas, there is a very sad ending to this story:

Freaky Friday (and no, I'm not talking about Lindsey Lohan in her pre-anorexic hayday)

2009-05-08T10:16:00.003-04:00

This effing Robin lady is freaking me the HELL OUT! Seriously. Usually I can figure this shit out and it's driving me nuts. There is a catch... Help please!

****** ONLY READ IF YOU WANT TO KNOW THE CATCH... 'cause I'm wicked smart!

I'm think it hasn't something to do with the fact that there are only certain numbers that every two-digit number calculates to (i.e. 9, 3, 81... all squared numbers) and each time you click through, it shows the same gift for every prime number.

It's official: I'm not going to die. Score!

2009-05-07T10:12:00.006-04:00

So I've been sick all week. Since Sunday to be exact. I took a nap Sunday afternoon and woke up feeling like I just spent the hour in Anderson Cooper's asscrack. Yup, that's right ---smelly, sweaty and feeling like crap.

Since then I've been utterly exhausted, completely out of it (like walking into innate objects), in pain from severe stomach cramping, and suffering from profuse night sweats. I stayed home from work Monday and slept 14 hours, and was still tired on Tuesday. The only word to describe it is "icky".

As of yesterday, when I forced myself to visit the CDC's website and read up on the symptoms of swine flu, I was convinced I had the infamous H1N1 virus. I had 4 of the 6 symptoms, and was determined that I needed to be tested. Yet I pushed on through and decided I'd wait one more day.

Today, I woke up a brand new woman. I felt clear headed, energetic and excited to go to work. Ready to face the cruel City on yet *another* rainy, wet morning.

So, today friends, is a good day. It's Thursday and I feel great! Give me a "woot!"

PS - I still think I had swine flu. But my superior immune system battled it like a warrior and won.

Stick a chicken in me, I'm.... vintage??!

2009-05-06T09:57:00.004-04:00

Have you ever had an alarm clock wake you up for so many years that you grow to hate it, despise it even, and generally want to punch it until its insides spew out?

Lately, I reminisced about an old alarm clock I had as a teenager. And now I can't get it's stupid song out of my head. It's been days now....

It was single-handedly the most annoying alarm clock on the face of the planet. Yet, being a teenager in the 80's/90's, I thought it was the coolest thing since sliced bread.

It was a Rock N Roll Chicken who screamed the words "baby!" and "come and dance with meeeeeeee!" in an attempt to roust me. It was *SOOOOO* loud that I don't know how my family stood it 'cause I'm sure they heard it every morning (and sometimes in the afternoons...)

You would push his little red comb on the top of his head to turn it on and off. And when he was singing, his little yellow beak would actually open.

And now NOW! it's being called "Vintage" on eBay. What the hell does that make me, at a mere 30 years old? Senile? Whomever is selling this "vintage" clock is an a-hole.

What is this world coming to? {Alternate title: why is it okay when people can poke racial fun at their own themselves?}

2009-05-04T08:49:00.000-04:00

They say that the way a man dances says a lot about how good (or bad) they are in bed. All I can say is... these guys must have limp-dick in the sack.

Me + Natalie Dee = separated at birth

2009-05-03T11:33:00.002-04:00

This was at the top of her site today. This is why I love Natalie Dee...

I might vomit.

2009-05-02T09:26:00.000-04:00

Do you ever feel like this?

2009-05-01T05:17:00.000-04:00

When this happens (all too frequently) I just want to punch the guy in the face.

I don't stare at guys crotches all day long???

Well... except on the subway....

Oh bother. Pooh no likey swine.

2009-04-30T12:30:00.003-04:00

Dirty feline talk

2009-04-30T08:36:00.002-04:00

So my cat, Hermione, has a boyfriend. But he's online, Twitter specifically. So we don't know if he's actually as attractive as his picture makes him out to be. But he sure is a sweet-talker. Apparently, he's a "ladies man" (or "kitties man") so I advised her to be weary, but she's not listening. He has wooed her and there's no turning back.

His name is Sir Freddie Elvis. And he dresses like a pirate.

When they first met, he wore a black bandana with a skull on it, a gold hoop earring and an eye patch. Which I think had a lot to do with the initial attraction. Hermione has always gone for that hoop earring, tough guy, sword-fighting type. But now he's switched to a more subdued "do me" look, which I think is turning her off a bit.

However, because he's got a British accent and says "arrrr mate-y" a lot, she's trying to see past his new-found wimpiness. Here are some of his tweets to her (I have to keep tabs on her Twitter account or it gets a bit out of hand):

Please take note of MadStoneDog's mean remarks to her. Meanie.

And because Sir Freddie Elvis has changed his look, here are some others whom Hermione will be seeking out for potential lovin':

Have a good Thursday, mate-y!

This is only a test.

2009-04-29T08:36:00.000-04:00

The Center for Disease Control has issued a medical alert about a highly

contagious, potentially dangerous virus that is transmitted orally, by

hand, and even electronically.  This virus is called Weekly Overload

Recreational Killer (WORK).  If you receive WORK from your boss, any of

your colleagues or anyone else via any means whatsoever - DO NOT TOUCH

IT!!!  This virus will wipe out your private life entirely.  If you

should come into contact with WORK you should immediately leave the

premises.

Take two good friends to the nearest liquor store and purchase one or

both of the antidotes - Work Isolating Neutralizer Extract (WINE) and

Bothersome Employer Elimination Rebooter (BEER).  Take the antidote

repeatedly until WORK has been completely eliminated from your system.

You should immediately forward this medical alert to five friends.  If

you do not have five friends, you have already been infected and WORK is

controlling your life.

Great invention of the day...

2009-04-28T14:32:00.003-04:00

I am so in love with this, I can't even tell you.

It's hot here in New York City. Like, *BALLS* hot.

Butt crack: the movie. $5 entry.

2009-04-24T08:50:00.002-04:00

Oh, do I have a Friday treat for you!!!

Before you even ask.... Yes. I took this picture. While at the gym. With my iPhone.

This guy is a repeat offender. And yet he continues to let it hang out.

And therefore he deserves to be photographed and then posted all over the Web like a moron.

Notice no one is next to him, as they fear being associated with the "butt crack bandit."

I mean how hard is it to just securely arrange the elastic band of your $10 Target gym shorts above the line where your butt crack shows? Seriously? Don't you feel the wind whipping in and out of there like it's the Grand Canyon? My personal trainer told me that if I went up to him and told him that his butthole was practically showing that she'd give me a free session. Instead, I documented it through photography. While I didn't get a free training session, I did get to share it with you all. Where are my props?

Butt crack guy: if you are reading this, pull up your damn pants! No one wants to look at this:

PS - what is he watching? I didn't know that the gym shows porn! Sah-weet!

Do you want to bite meh?

2009-04-23T09:24:00.001-04:00

How great is that term, "meh"? It's the perfect way to describe something as being completely unexciting, generally boring, flacid even in terms of conversational depth. Urban Dictionary describes it as "the verbal equivalent of the shrug of the shoulders."

Well said.

It even appeared in an episode of The Simpsons:

Homer: Kids, how would you like to go... to Blockoland!
Bart & Lisa: Meh.
Homer: But the TV. gave the impression that--
Bart: We said "meh".
Lisa: M-E-H. Meh.

Meh can also be used in LOLcat language in replace of the word "me". For example:

****************************
I used to think that the greatest invention in the world was Post-Its. But label makers are by far better.

The other day I was in the conference room at work, in the middle of an important meeting, and I looked down at the table to write something in my notebook, and there was a label stuck to the table that read:

F U C K E R

I've also tossed around the idea of making labels that say things like "whore by night", "I like barbecued babies", and "Democrat killer" and then sticking them on the backs of strangers.

*****************************

Lastly, how sad is it when a favorite pair of shoes become stinky? It sucks! I am just nearing the end of the life of a favorite pair of Winter shoes. By "Winter shoes" I mean a pair that is closed toe and only appropriate when it's not warm outside. I also own many pairs of Summer shoes, meaning those that are sandal-like in nature, or generally open-toed. But anyway, these shoes have been worn so much over the last year that they are officially worn out and smell like a good piece of aged Wisconsin blue cheese.

R.I.P. favorite Winter Shoes!

Funny Shit Wednesday

2009-04-22T09:27:00.001-04:00

***Disclaimer: The last picture in this post is SERIOUSLY disturbing. And not at all funny. Proceed at your own risk.

These "cat butt earrings" can be purchased here.

This is totally me. Hypochondria + dry skin = panic attack.

And here's the reason for my disclaimer:

This is really not funny at all. And I pray *TO GOD* that this is photoshopped.

Ok, ok. I know, that was mean to make you look at something that scary. My bad. Here is a little sumthin-sumthin to cheer you up. It's one of my favorite commercials.

You can kiss my square ass

2009-04-21T09:16:00.002-04:00

Speaking of butts, does no one else think this is the greatest commercial to hit the air in a long time?

I don't get all this crap about parents thinking that Burger King is using sex to sell kids' meals and burgers. *AND* they're pissed off at Nickalodeon for allowing Burger King to use the Sponge Bob character in their commercial in this manner. Whatever. It's hysterical. It's funny. And it's targeting parents of young kids and touching on a song that is nostalgic to them.

Well done, Burger King, well done.

And let me leave you with this, on a Happy-Tuesday-I-Might-Be-A-Lesbian-Day. This commercial makes me want to swing the other day. So well done to you, too, Carl Jr.

The lesson of the day? Burgers + Sex sells.

Do my mud flaps look fat?

2009-04-20T09:36:00.000-04:00

If you've ever seen the movie Spinal Tap, you know it's completely out there and funny as hell. It's a satire about a rock band that thinks they are hotter than shit. The tagline for the move is "Does for rock and roll what "The Sound of Music" did for hills." I mean, seriously?

Anyway, there's this one song in the movie called "Big Bottoms". My Hubs goes through phases where he sings the lyrics to the song over and over again. This is what he sings:

The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin'
That's what I said
The looser the waistband, the deeper the quicksand
Or so I have read

My baby fits me like a flesh tuxedo
I'd like to sink her with my pink torpedo

Big bottom, big bottom
Talk about bum cakes, my girl's got 'em
Big bottom drive me out of my mind
How could I leave this behind?

I met her on Monday, 'twas my lucky bun day
You know what I mean
I love her each weekday, each velvety cheek day
You know what I mean

My love gun's loaded and she's in my sights
Big game is waiting there inside her tights, yeah

Big bottom, big bottom
Talk about mud flaps, my girl's got 'em
Big bottom drive me out of my mind
How could I leave this behind?

My baby fits me like a flesh tuxedo
I'd like to sink her with my pink torpedo

Big bottom, big bottom
Talk about bum cakes, my girl's got 'em
Big bottom drive me out of my mind
How could I leave this behind?

Recently, in a car ride back from New Jersey on Easter Sunday, we started to argue about what "mud flaps" actually are. The Hubs was like, "it's just a big butt." And I was all, "No way, dude. Mud flaps are like saddle bags, like when the part where your thigh and butt meet is really huge." Nevertheless, we came to an agreement when we saw a lady walking down the sidewalk who *clearly* had mud flaps. This is what I think she would have looked like in a bikini. I guess we were both right.

Happy Monday!

Calling all Starbucks whores. And other crap.

2009-04-17T10:10:00.006-04:00

You know you're a Starbucks Whore when the barista at your local 'bucks noticed that you got a haircut (and it was only a trim).

This is another one of my "random thoughts and crap" posts. So hang onto your seats folks.

As much as this Consumer Whore stamp is funny, it hits a little close to home. I perpetually have a 'bucks in my hand. I am perpetually on my iPhone (checking email, not talking). I used to have a belly ring. I wish I had a princess crown to wear around. And I walk around with my breasts hanging out all the time.

This morning I saw a random man's dick. I was on my way to work, enjoying the sun and hopeful for a warm day expected to be in the 70's. I look to my right and *WHAM* penis in my face. A man has it just hanging out there, inspecting himself. I'm not sure what he was looking for, but it can't be good. What a great start to my day.

Why does the subway never come when you really need it to? If I'm running late for work: takes like 15 minutes. If I'm casually headed downtown to go shopping: it's practically waiting for me to get there.

Back to Starbucks. Do you ever wonder who does the chalkboard drawings? I very often find myself baffled by this. No matter which location I visit, they drawings are all in the same style and extremely well done. And it's clearly actual chalk on a chalkboard because you can see the old drawings by the faint lines that didn't erase all the way. Here is my conclusion: every city employs it's own "Starbucks chalk drawer" and that person maintains all of the chalkboards for their region. It's the only possibility. Either that, or Starbucks has strict artistic requirements when hiring baristas.

Does anyone else think that Tripp is the dumbest name that Sarah Palin's 17-year old daughter could have chose for her son? I mean, seriously?

If you're really bored at work, here is a great pastime.

Did you see Casino Royale? Well, if you've been a longtime reader of SassyTwoSocks, then you've heard me talk about it before because I would leave my husband for Daniel Craig (just kidding, baby). Well, in the opening scene of the movie there is a great scene where Bond goes on the crazy chase after a guy who is doing what is called "parkour". It originated in France and is basically about crazy people who aren't afraid of dying. But since the movie, it's become a global phenomenom, particularly among teenagers. But know this: parkour is not for everybody. It's only for idiots. But damn, it does give me great blog material:

Unemployment caused my gimp [alternate title: why I could talk about saggy calf muscles all day long]

2009-04-07T19:04:00.003-04:00

You may be wondering how a 2-week unemployment stint could cause me a potentially fatal leg injury? And you may be wondering how my tendency to wear heels no less than 4" high is related to this? And you may be wondering how my height has anything to do with this? And you may be wondering why I'm continuing to write in vague open-ended questions?

Ok, the fatal part is a lie. But I did incur a leg injury that has been somewhat of a nuisance.

It started like this. I am short. 5'2.5" to be exact. Though I usually round to 5'3" when telling people how tall I am. Because of this, I like to wear high heels every day. It's become somewhat of joke to my friends and family. And I often get comments like, "How the hell do you walk in those all day?" or "How did you just manage to run across the street in those strappy 5" stilettos?" Well, the answer is that I'm extremely skilled in the balance department--- which I suspect has something to do with the fact that my center of gravity is so close to the ground. So, the short story is, I wear heels all the time unless I'm exercising (sneakers) or just popping out to the grocery store on a weekend (Uggs).

Because I very rarely wear flat shoes, I have somewhat underdeveloped calf muscles. Now you may be picturing saggy calves that looks something like an old lady's saggy bicept (ew). But I assure you, my lack of calf muscles is not visibly pronounced. So during my unemployment period, two factors really contributed to my injury:

1 - I found myself uninterested in impressing anyone and wore my Uggs everywhere for the entire two weeks.

2 - I was in no real hurry to get anywhere as I had nowhere to be.

So I hoofed it around Manhattan in my Uggs every day, taking the subway, walking miles at a time, and not looking very impressive in the process.

Then one day I was at the gym and all of a sudden my calf muscles were cramping up. One shin splint was even aching for no obvious reason. So I got off the elliptical machine and gimped it home. For days on end, I iced, stretched and rested my poor calf muscles, and yet they still wanted to tighten up on me and make my life difficult. At first I didn't understand why. Then a trainer at the gym asked me, "are you walking around more than usual?" And a lightbulb went off: flats + lots of walking = said injury. This is why these people are trainers, my beloved bloggy-friends.

So, as excited as I was to find out why my calves were in distress, it didn't change anything. I decided I wouldnt' let my puny leg muscles get the best of me and went to the gym anyway. I just stretched them like mutha effers every day and kept the impact low. Today was my first day back in the swing of things, after three weeks of misery, and it felt great.

The moral of the story: there is such a thing as wimpy calves, and I didn't learn my lesson. I still wear heels every day, and will probably need bunion surgury by the time I'm 35.

My new office is pimpin', yo!

2009-04-02T17:48:00.004-04:00

So I'm nearly settled into my new work life and my new office. First of all, I love my job. Granted it's only Day 7, but how many people can say that? Second, I'm trying to pimp out my new office gansta-style.

I'm lucky enough to have my new office in Soho, at Broadway and Houston. If you've ever been to this neighborhood, you know what I'm talking about. Beautiful buildings, beautiful people, coffee shops and high-end shops on every corner. The only downside is that it seems that everyone down here smokes. I swear if one more person blows second-hand smoke into my face on the sidewalk I WILL PUNCH THEM IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!! Ok, back to happy stuff. So being in Soho, we're in a loft. With 25-ft ceilings, shiny wood floors and big windows that let the sunshine in all day long.

However, my office has no windows and it's at the back of the office, away from the sunlight. However, because it's a loft space I still get a lot of natural light and my desk is situated so I'm looking out the door and out the windows. So no complaints from me. But I have to admit, I'm a bit of an office diva. I like my things "just so". I want all of my office supplies at hand, everything to be organized, an extra chair in my office for visitors and my own printer. I also have ordered a bit of artwork for my walls, a mini-fridge (so I don't have to content with the overfull fridge my co-workers use) and a rug to put my feet on when they get tired. Today I got my whiteboard so I can keep track of what I'm working on and schedule my days out in advance.

I'm pretty psyched about it. I love my office and how it's turning out. It's welcoming and looks like someone uses it. I think some people think that office decoration is a waste of time and money---that it doesn't really matter what is around you and that you should just put your head down and work. But I disagree. I spend a lot of time in my office. I try to get here early and I stay late most nights. I want to enjoy being in it, for it to be comfortable and for others to feel that it is welcoming. So POO ON YOU people who think it's a waste of time and money! That's my two cents.

Here are some pics for your viewing pleasure:

Here is the view from my desk. It was taken at 6pm at night so you don't get the full view of what it looks like when the sun is shining in...

Here is my desk, where I sit my of the day and crunch numbers, spreadsheet in Excel, and general look busy...

Here is my new pillow. Isn't Mr. Parrot cute? He gives my back support...

And this is my robot picture. His name is Parker.

Lastly, the pic at the top of my post is of one of my new pieces of artwork. It's actually from Home Depot... and it was cheap!

A subway ride full of crotches

2009-04-01T07:05:00.000-04:00

As a New Yorker, I take the subway *a lot*. And all too often I find myself staring at men's crotches. I can't help it. I don't want to look. They're just there.

Know this, gentlemen: I get no enjoyment from my crotch-ogling escapades.

There are several factors that create a bountiful crotch viewing environment on the subway:

1 - Women, myself included, tend to opt for seating on the subway if they can find any. Usually we are carrying heavy bags or are wearing high heels and want a brief rest. Men, on the other hand, tend to enjoy standing. Therefore, we're eye level with the crotches.

2 - There isn't much to look at on the subway if you don't have a newspaper or book. After about two stops, you've read every advertisement in the subway car, and have already exhausted yourself of trying to look busy on your mobile phone. So you find your eye wandering, looking for anything ANYTHING that is more interesting than re-reading ads for hammertoe and bunion removal.

3 - They're crotches! And they're in your face. How can you *NOT* look????

I'm torn in this web of crotchfulness and I can't seem to get out....

This is how I feel today... like I need milk-scented pillows to curl up on

2009-03-31T09:36:00.000-04:00

Why I unnaturally love my kitties...but not like that, you perv {Alternate title: Guess which one's the bitch}

2009-03-28T09:12:00.000-04:00

I just have no words for this

2009-03-27T12:19:00.002-04:00

Another reason to get an iPhone: ugly-ass bootie call prevention

2009-03-26T09:06:00.000-04:00

Apparently, iPhone has a new app that allows you to block outbound calls to certain people during certain times. E.g. if you know that you tend to call your asshole ex-boyfriend when you've had one shot of tequila too many, or if after one beer too many you will call that pimply-faced friend you normally wouldn't share a straw with for a hook up, you can prevent yourself from headed down the path of regret with this app.

How awesome is that?!!!

However, I prefer to use it for other purposes. Rather than bootie call while I'm drunk, I tend to head in more of a fill-my-ass-up-with-lots-of-saturated-fats direction. I go for late night pizza, cheesy fries, or the dreaded... nachos! (Oh, nachos, how I love thee. Especially when slathered in sour cream and guacamole goodness.) So I would use this app to block myself from calling for a late night delivery.

Now I just need them to come up with an iPhone app that will send me an electric shock every time I put a nacho to my tongue...

Protruding adam's apples equal fun times for all

2009-03-25T16:00:00.000-04:00

Last week I did something that could easily be the coolest thing I've ever done in New York City. I received a personal tour of the two dig sites for the new 7 train extension that will transport riders all the way over to the Hudson River/Javitts Center.

My sis-in-law is a bartender and a few of her regulars work on the project and offered to give her a sneak peek. As usual, I forced my into the fun, and told her I'd disown her if she didn't take me along.

When we arrived we were clearly the center of attention. It's not often that two (attractive, if I say so myself) females walk onto the construction site ready for action. After suiting up in hardhats, boots, neon orange vests and safety glasses, we descended into the 110-ft. tunnel shaft by riding down in a cage suspended only by one rope and a crane. The SIL was shitting her pants, while I boogied around and did my "I'm trying to get this boat a-rockin' dance".

Down in the tunnel, we were told to "stay close, hug the wall, and watch out for falling rock and large trucks that may not see you before they run you over." It. Was. Awesome. We saw workers preparing for blasting, engineers working on the $16.5 million tunnel boring machinery that looked like it should be at NASA instead, and pieces of giant hydrolic equipment the size of a 3-story building.

But we learned something down in that tunnel. And I'll tell you what that was. That all men, no matter what the trade, look hot in a uniform when they're dirty, sweaty and working hard. So I'll end this post with a quote from my SIL:

"Man, those tunnel workers were hot. Did you see all those adam's apples???"

Why muumuus and fat guy hats are not a good long-term life plan

2009-03-21T11:47:00.002-04:00

As you may already know, I've been unemployed for almost two weeks. At first I felt like I couldn't relax, because I hadn't accepted an offer yet and I didn't want to feel like a complete lazy person. But now that I've accepted an offer and have gotten many of my projects and errands out of the way, I'm enjoying myself more and more.

There is certainly something to be said for waking up and not caring what day it is. I've also been:
- allowing myself to sleep in as late as I want (which unfortunately hasn't been later than 8am)
- not putting on makeup
- wearing sweatpants all day
- living in Uggs
- not showering until 4pm
- having lengthy conversations with my cats about how cute they are
- having dance parties by myself

This brief work hiatus has made me realize that I could be unemployed forever if money wasn't an issue. It's addicting. It's a whole new level of freedom that I've never known before. For example, as I write this I am sitting at Starbucks on my computer and have been here for 2 hours. There's nothing stopping me from staying or leaving--- I have no appointments today, no pressing issues or errands to deal with. I could just sit here all day if I wanted to. There's a freedom in that.

However, I fear that if I did actually have the luxury of not working ever again, one of two outcomes would unfold. One, I would use my spare time to become a gym rat and would get super buff, would eat healthy, and would totally be a MILF (but I would adopt because I wouldn't want a birth to screw up my new hot body). Two, I would resort to wearing muumuus everyday, would stop shaving my pits and legs, and would spend all my time ordering crap online and through HSN. Here is a preview of this second outcome:

Surprise!! Bandit alert!

2009-03-20T07:46:00.000-04:00

This picture was taken in one of those old photo booths the night of my surprise birthday party. Yes, my *surprise* party.

I won't tell you which one I am, but I'll give you a few clues: I don't have a scowl on my face, or a wandering eye, or gaping grin.

It's official. I have entered the 4th decade of life. I am 30. I can no longer truthfully tell the treadmill that I am 29 and weigh 115 pounds... cause now both would be a lie.

I'm not big on parties in general, so I had no idea that my Hubs and BFF had planned a surprise dinner party at one of my favorite spots in the East Village. I thought it was going to be a nice dinner with just my parents (by that I mean my dad and stepmom--- the last time I didn't clarify that my mom had a complete freakout on my comment board), but when we showed up there were 10 of my favorite people waiting for me! It was totally unexpected.

So, the best part of having a birthday party??? Is that I made out like bandit. Everyone gets you a present when you have a party. I never fully leveraged this fact in the past. And I didn't realize just how much I love presents. I made out with two gift cards to lululemon (my new "danger zone"), a gift card to the Apple store which I used to buy a new iPhone (the white one, woo!), a goregous 1890's vintage necklace, a facial, a massage, and a gift card to Cafe Luxembourg. See, I told you... bandit, right?

So anyway, I'm a bad bloggy friend. I know, I know. I haven't visited you all in a week and you have every right to be mad at me. Especially since I'm unemployed and perceivably have all the time in the world to be commenting on your posts like a fiend. So please accept my sincerest apology and know that I haven't forgotten you, nor do I love you any less than before.

And I have *so* much more to tell you... like how I am actually employable, how flirtation will get you anywhere in life, and how I can finally get rid of the muumuus in my closet. That last part was a lie... I don't own any muumuus.

Talk soon.

XOXO.

Junk that ain't in the trunk [alternate title: how to laugh and vomit at the same time]

2009-03-14T11:02:00.005-04:00

Guess who sent this video to me?

My dad. Yes, folks, this is perfect example of how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

This video is rated R, for mature adults: Contains partial nudity, bad acting, horrible 90's songs, and close-up scrotum shots.

Balls balls everywhere

2009-03-12T12:11:00.005-04:00

I don't have much to say today, as it's Day 4 of uneventful unemployment, so I'm leaving you with a funny cartoon from Natalie Dee. If I could crush Natalie up into powder and bathe in a bubble bath of her remains, I would. That's how much I love her.

I'm officially a Real Housewife of New York City (except I'm not on TV---they don't know what they're missing)

2009-03-11T09:01:00.001-04:00

Well folks, I'm unemployed. And it's Day 3.

And I'm bored.

And before you give me the sad, pitiful, "I'm so sorry" act... don't. It's all good. I already have one offer and I'm hoping to get a second fairly soon. Fortunately or unfortunately, I probably won't be unemployed for long.

Months back, I mutually agreed with my employer that I would leave, for two reason. One, they are struggling with cash needs; and two, I needed to move onto something new and more stable. Even though I knew I would be leaving months ago, I wasn't sure of the exact date until a few weeks ago.

A small part of me was looking forward to having some time off. I've been so stressed out with the wedding, the death of my mother-in-law, and having to worry about a new job that I just wanted a break. But in this economy, when nearly 10% of the country is unemployed, I feel so guilty for feeling that way. Jobs are like diamonds these days: you hope you're lucky enough to have one and keep it.

So now I have it: a break. Though my first few days have been filled with house cleaning, errands, lunch dates, interviews, laundry, drinking lots of caffeine, and not-fun-stuff. I don't know what I was expecting; but it involved lots of couch laying, tv watching and pizza eating. Though I can't bring myself to do those things. Now that I'm actually unemployed, I feel that I have to prove my worth by NOT slacking and doing productive tasks.

Even within the first 24 hours of being unemployed, I started to realize how much I define myself my what I do. I don't know if that's good or bad. But it's humbling.

There are many more things I want to write about why I left my job and what it means about me. But alas, my co-workers read my blog. So you'll just have to do without. If you're a former co-worker of mine and you're reading this, it's all good [insert Sarah Palin wink here].