I must be insane…or just high…
…But like, I had to post this. So, two weeks ago, I quit a fairly comfortable, secure job (or so I thought) to start my own business. Like WHAT was I thinking? And actually, I wasn’t drunk. Maybe, just a little delusional. What do you think? Happy Friday?
Bra police, or: Should you wear this on a sail boat?
So, yesterday I went sailing around the isle of Manhattan, no it ain’t Capri, but what ever, and this 50 foot sail boat had 40 people, so you could say it was a little…PACKED. And I show up in shorts and a tank and this is fine and dandy for sailboat attire, but I look around me and feel a little under dressed. ’cause most all the other ladies around me are well turned out in cute little sundresses. And I’m like, well at least if the wind blows I am perfectly attired …but it didn’t much. Then I see this girl, and I’m sorry, but I just don’t get that whole bra-strap thing. So I was curious what you all thought about it.
And then, just when I thought all was clear, I looked to my right, and there was a very nice man wearing a not so nice shirt that he must have found in his, well, somewhere…and I’m like, sail us back to Soho. Please.
Gym etiquette, or, for Godsakes, man!
To all you dudes that need to wear a big honking towel around your neck to keep the sweat from dripping off, please do NOT wear a shirt that exposes your pits when you are in a very small gym with equipment right on top of each other. Because if you sweat like a pig, guess what you smell like? (Except for the fact that I don’t really know what pigs smell like because I’ve never spent a single minute next to one, and I am making assumptions that I am sure all the animal activists will be up in arms about.) But I think you get my drift. Because, it takes me a whole lot of motivation to get off my ass, go to the gym (after 6 weeks of laziness), finally get on the elipitcal and when I finally do make it there, the last thing I want to be doing is smell my own pits, because for the life of me I could have sworn that I put deodorant (yes, I did) only to realize, that I will now have to suffer with the fact that for some friggin’ reason you thought that the gym attire you decided to wear would get you a whole bevy of lasses. Either that, or your cleaning lady hasn’t come for 2 months and it’s the only thing you have left to wear.
Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody
But clearly, she does. Is it me, or does a cab work just as well? “So what?” says Bella. “Maybe she thought it would be fun.” And I’m like. Yup. She probably does.
And you think…
THE talk…with Bella
So tonight we had “the talk” (or a semblance of one or whatever appears to be one in 2009– somewhat different than the ones that I had with my mother in the ’70’s) and here’s how it went.
BELLA: So it’s way more awkward for kids to talk about sex with your parents than the parents feel about talking to kids about sex.
ME: You feel AWKWARD, with ME? Like WHY? I talked about sex with MY mother.
BELLA: You did? Do I want to hear this?
ME: I don’t know do you?
BELLA: I guess.
ME: I asked my mother what an erect penis looked like and she drew it for us. Granny’s a good artist, you know.
BELLA: OKAY mom.
ME: …and me and auntie were like, “EEWWWWWW”.
BELLA: Ewwww. Mommmm.
ME: But I know what one looks like now.
BELLA: Mooommmmm. I don’t want to hear anymore.
ME: Listen, you were telling me in 3 grade what oral sex was.
BELLA: So what’s wrong with that? All the little kids know what it is now. It’s OK.
ME: Not really. They are not emotionally ready to hear about it and neither were you.
BELLA: I guess the parents just have to guide their children to make the right choices.
ME: So is that what I did wrong?
BELLA: Um, like when?
ME: Like your whole party incident.
BELLA: Mooom.
ME: What was that KUI?
BELLA: Huh?
ME: Kissing under the influence. Well, I don’t mind the kissing part, but at least do it with a boy you like. Not some experimental thing. Like I am under the influence of this PARTAY so I will just hook up with some guy.
BELLA: Well, it’s not like it’s real sex or anything.
ME: That’s right. And that’s NOT happening until…
BELLA: Until???
ME: You’re married. That’s a perfect age.
BELLA: Do you like my new haircut?
ME: Just STOP flipping it, for God’s sakes.
The end of the world?
What happens if there’s no cell phones,
If Blackberries disappear,
If texting becomes extinct,
If no iPhones launch this year?
What happens if Facebook vanishes,
If Google goes away,
If the AIM man went a running,
If Yahoo went out to play?
What happens if all viruses
Were Just colds, or aches and flus?
Or if everyone who tweeted,
All share the exact same views?
What happens if suddenly,
All laptops start to freeze,
If all MACs had a heart attack,
If all PC hard drives seize?
What happens if forever,
Explorer vanishes from sight.
If Mozilla just stops working,
And Safari gives up the fight.
If your email no longer delivers,
If the fax no longer rings,
If your Wii can not be charged,
If your ipod no longer sings?
Do you think that dawn would come again,
Or that we could still survive?
If our virtual world came crashing down.
Would we all still be alive?
My wedding march if I ever get married again
So, over 7 million people watched this wedding march for a few simple reasons: 1) it made you laugh 2) it made you cry 3) we are all jealous 4) if you have a big wedding party, learn how to not bore your whole congregation to tears. Too bad everyone doesn’t send them a dollar as wedding gift. Hell 50 cents would do!