fortune telling

I tried to put an embedded video on a response to one of Erica's posts. I was mentioning that I see a future for her and Beth as this duo:



Just like them, but without Maude.

all that funny

Faith, Beth and I are in the office. Faith begins to sing "All That Jazz" under her breath.

Faith: Come on babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz.

She continues to sing. Beth joins in.

Faith: It's just a noisy hall, where's there's a nightly brawl. And...
Beth: ...all. That. Jaaaaaazzzzzzz.
me: Hacha!
Beth: Wookie!

i-scream, u-donate

Who wants to eat ice cream for a good cause? Put your hand down, Ian, you're already a given.

Cold Stone Creamery is having an Ice Cream Social for the Make-a-Wish Foundation. Thursday, September 24, from 5-8pm you can get a free 3 oz "Make-a-Wish Creation" (sweet cream ice cream mixed with brownies, sprinkles and topped with caramel) with a donation to the Make-a-Wish Foundation. And if you don't know what Make-a-Wish is you don't deserve ice cream. So be sure to go to their site, www.wish.org.

my optometrist thinks i'm crazy

I'm starting to feel that I have a a bit of a rep when it comes to these. Ah, well. It's what makes me unique.

The subject line of a recently received e-mail: Nighttime Protection for Expecting Moms

What I read: Nighttime Protection from Expecting Moms

So, keep your little ones inside and don't lurk in dark alleys. I might be after you!

what's that in the air?

Can it be? I recognize the sun. I see more blue than white or gray in the sky. But that feeling on my skin. It's a little... chilly. My brain isn't making sense of it. Can it be that fall is here already? Huzzah! I noticed that BB wrote about it recently, but I can't believe my own skin's sensors. Unlike BB, I prefer spring to autumn, but I'll take temperate light jacket weather over extremes in heat and cold any day of the year. I just wish it could be like that all of the time. Like how Florida is hot all of the time, but 20 degrees cooler would be nice.

Speaking of temperature, I was going through some pictures this weekend and last and I noticed a few things about my upbringing that's a little different. Not bad. Just... different. 1. in all of my Christmas photos, everyone in my family is always wearing t-shirts and shorts. Even outdoors. 2. there are few pictures of my mom (as she's the main photographer/archiver in the family) and everyone else doesn't smile much. 3. ... unless we are giving the photographer the middle finger. 4. I hate that my family is so far away. I don't want them living next door or anything. Just a day's drive away would be nice.

Anyway, what are you doing reading my post? Go outside! Enjoy the lovely weather. I promise you, right now, I'm outside frolicking and not inside reading your blog.

an opinion as big as my belly

I know the topic of politeness and pregnancy has been discussed by all of us. Especially when it come to being offered a seat on the subway. Do you, don't you? Why some people do, why most don't.

There was an article in the City Room section of The New York Times, posted this past Friday, regarding this very subject. You should read it. Not necessarily for the article itself but, instead, for the comments. Wow! There are some nasty people in this city. It only reminds me of my own, and still continuing, experiences being pregnant and trying to find a seat on the subway.

Look, I'm not blind, I'm not old, I'm not crippled, and I'm certainly not fat. I'm pregnant. And yes, it was by choice. But to all of you assholes on the N, the W, or any other train line in the MTA system, let me tell you this: You run past me for an empty seat. You stare at my belly for a period of time that borders on outright rude. You put in your earbuds in an attempt to "ignore" me. Your entitled attitudes towards a fucking seat for 3 stops makes you retarded. And I understand, being retarding is a disability, and not all disabilities can be seen. However, my pregnancy CAN been seen. I try to stick it in your faces while I "accidentally" step on your toes and firmly hold my belly when the train rounds sharp corners at fast speeds.

Just remember, especially you urbanized post-feminists in your Wall Street power suits who are quick to pass judgment on us preggos just because we want to be able to sit down, when you're pregnant (or when your wife, girlfriend, surrogate, bff, or whomever is in that physical state) don't come bumping into me because you're knocked up, your cankles are the size of manholes and it's sweltering outside. I'll be too busy holding onto my bundle of joy in her Baby Bjorn... while sitting.

revenge is possible

Elmo. Remember that creepy bastard? You know, the one who stalks around Times Square preying off of dumb tourists who shout "Hey look, it's Elmo! Let's get a picture with him." Remember? There's a whole army of Elmo's shaking up people who pose with him for money.

Well, thanks to a New York Daily News reporter and his cameraman, one Elmo will think twice before he waves at unsuspecting tourists. Friday night, in front of the Planet Hollywood, one of the Elmos was "demand(ing) money from people (for them taking his picture) and, when he didn't get it, swore and jostled them. "No picture. No picture. You have to tip Elmo. You have to tip Elmo or Elmo gets angry," he told one tourist as he tried to cover up the tourist's camera. One child who asked his mother why Elmo was in a rage was told by mommy, "That's not the real Elmo. That's a bad Elmo." During that same incident, Elmo was almost beaten up by a concerned citizen.

Luckily, a reporter and his cameraman from the New York Daily News tried to reveal the true identity of this impostor Elmo. Elmo, after an attempt to grab the cameraman's camera, justified his behavior by saying, "Elmo needs to make a living, too."

Poor Elmo. Perhaps Oscar the Grouch can council him in anger management.

pre-show scene

I'm walking east-bound in Chelsea to meet my other. We are on the phone with each other.

me: Hey, where are you?
him: Just standing in front of the theater, looking at this sexy lady walk towards me.
me: Ooo, well, that's nice. I'll be there soon.

A few seconds later, I notice my other, stepping forward with his arm extended, but he's not standing in my direction. I look ahead. He greets and hugs Marian Seldes. I stand by, in shock.

me: Well, if you would have told me that you were looking at a classy lady, I wouldn't be so disappointed right now.

no escape hatch to be found

How can it be possible that Friday is the dullest day of my week? Friday's are supposed to be happy and exciting and energy charged. Mine. Feh!

Summer Fridays at work. Half days for everyone except me and one boss. I've been answering phone calls about mailing lists, single ticket refunds, why our website sucks (and if you are one of those people in the company who defend the site, you have to get bitched slapped by reality- the site blows!), and not a sale to show for my 8 hours spent in a warm little room with no window and even less air circulation.

Not that I'm complaining. I am getting paid. I haven't gotten fired yet (despite my 'testing-the-water' efforts). I'm in good health. I shouldn't bitch.

But I can't help it! It's so freakin' dull. All of this free time just makes me think about all of the different ways that I'd improve the various departments of this company. And my at-work-with-me boss really doesn't like it that I have an opinion. So for his sake, please give me something to do!

*This rant was brought to you by the sounds "ugghhh!" and "arggghhh."

contents of a gumball machine: priceless

Okay, honey. Here's a quarter. You can either have a piece of gum, a bouncy ball, or a fake tattoo. What? What do you want? You want THAT?

Hmm, so you want to walk out of this store and look like a Village Person? Looks like we're going to have a talk with your father when we get home.