Attraction or Pauly Shore is My Hero

you know how it seems like some people attract certain things? for instance, my brother attracts luck at card games, some people get hit by lightning multiple times in their lives, while my sister attracts the attentions of twelve year old boys like moths to the light:

for the longest time, i thought that there was nothing that i attracted with an invisible pull that others in my family seem to have. small children swarm to my mother, much to their parents' horror, while my dad ALWAYS wins at monopoly (which isn't really the same, but seriously, how can he win EVERY TIME?!?). recently, i found my thing, that thing that will ALWAYS find me, no matter what.

i always hoped it would be the ability to command money to flock to my fingertips, but, sadly, i knew that wasn't the case when i lost a hundred dollar bill a couple of months ago. no, for me, it's jury duty.

i have lived in a total of five states since i have been eligible for jury duty. i've lived in kansas:

texas:

california:

massachusetts:

and now, new york:

in every state, save one, i've been beckoned by the long, bony finger of the law to endure jury duty. now, i got the hell out of kansas two months after i was registered to vote, so i didn't get a summons there. but every single other state! it's ridiculous, i was only in texas for five months.

anyway, i registered to vote about a month ago, and what arrives in the mail last week? something from my good friend gloria d'amico. she had this to say to me:

dear juror:

welcome. you have been selected for jury duty.

the law provides that a collective body of "eligible" citizens shall perform as jurors to determine cases broughts before the courts. Your participation in the jury process helps to insure the individual rights of each citizen.

i recognize jury service can be burdensome, as it may interrupt your personal and business lives. please be assured that we will work within the limits of the law to accommodate varying needs. our goal is to make your service as a juror a rewarding and memorable experience.

thank you for your time and commitment to the new york state justice system.

sincerely,

gloria d'amico

commissioner of jurors

listen. gloria. i know you you're just doing your job. and i'm glad that i am dear to you. but i don't appreciate your italicized and quoted "eligible". it feels like you are doubting my eligibility,

and that hurts my feelings. furthermore, no one wants a memorable experience. that pretty much guarantees that you will be haunted for the rest of your life by the horrors that befell you in the hands of the government.

not good.

lastly, it certainly will interrupt my personal and business life. do they allow booze in the court building? do they cater meals , ordering obscene amounts of food, then let me scavange the leftovers like the ferret that i am? i thought not.

tis my lot in life, i guess to move from state to state, to be called for jury duty (though never picked for a jury), and then sit in a room with a bunch of people watching soap operas all day. and i won't even have postcards with me to glue together.

oh well. i suppose it's better than having to watch jury duty at any point.

ever.

The Price of Education or How'd I Get So Stoopid?

i am constantly amazed by the kinds of things one needs a college degree to do. let's look at some SHOCKING statistics, shall we?

we shall.

so, my education. i started at pitzer college. at the time, it was approximately $34,000 a year to go there. i went there for a year and a half. cha-CHING! i'll leave out my semester at long beach city college, because it was a negligible amount, perhaps two hundred bucks? yeah. well, then along comes boston college. to go from being a sage hen:




to being an eagle:


is even MORE pricey. for a commuting student, bc costs approximately $35, 284 a year, before the cost of insurance or books. (i was there for three excruciatingly long years.)

granted, eagles are a bit more majestic than sage hens, but still. that's a lot of money. and what does that amount of money get me?

an entry level position at a non-profit.

basically (to borrow leah's favorite term), i needed a $156,852 education (BEFORE books, apt, insurance, etc.) in order to be qualified to do the following:

gluing pieces of paper to the backs of postcards

putting said postcards, along with other materials, into folders

putting stickers on folders

printing obscene amounts of materials onto non-recycled paper

mailing ridiculous amounts of materials to places around the country at no cost to them

getting into passive-aggressive email wars

and, sometimes as is the case, blogging

i GET to do all of this because i have a piece of paper (that i haven't even framed, and that has neither of my two minors nor my major on it) that says i was stupid enough to spend more than 100 grand on my education, even though i don't make even a third of that per year.

brilliant.

On Thin Ice or Why I Hate Squirrels

today i was enjoying a short walk in central park. it was a little chilly, but, you know, every three days i like to leave the building so as not to go crazy. i mean, i deal with situations like this all day every day, where i get emails like this:

so i schedule a meeting and label it with the only thing that makes sense for this kind of meeting, and get this response:


note that 22 minutes have elapsed between the first and second email. one would think that it was obvious that this meeting was the one that i was asked to schedule. but. that didn't stop the many, many emails that had to go back and forth about this stupid meeting:


it was great. anyway, i thought i'd take a break from my ridiculous job by going for a walk with this guy:


so, we went to central park to enjoy the day. alas, twas not meant to be a peaceful afternoon. some punk-ass squirrel started giving me attitude the second i walked past my old hula-hooping grounds (you know, before they closed the grass for the season). it wasn't enough for the stupid little thing to strut around, even though the fence clearly stated that he shouldn't be there:



but then, as i'm staring wistfully at my favorite, now forbidden spot, he starts giving me attitude, chattering at me and shaking his little fist! so, i look at him and say,

you got a problem friend?

he just continues yelling at me in his strangled little voice, and so i say,

what? bring it on! you're not better than me!

nothing. he refuses to admit that i'm awesome and he sucks.

finally, boaz makes me move on. but i wasn't happy about it. then THEN i had to spend twenty minutes talking boaz out of walking out on the in no way solidified water in the dirtiest pond ever, as he thought it looked fine. it didn't:



we got past that crisis, and i felt okay about life. then, i had to go back to work and (sigh) my microsoft outlook. we used to have a fine relationship, but lately, we've been struggling.

perhaps it's time for outlook and me to get some professional help:

A Perfectly Good Thing to Blog About or Soup

so, i've been really dry on ideas for the blog of late, which is why the suckage level has been so high. i've been soliciting ideas from other people, but mostly these ideas are stupid. thanks a lot for that.

but, debbie just made a rare appearance in my office, and i asked her what i should write about, and she, too, gave me a dumb idea. ("write about me," she said, "and how great i am." when i gave her a skeptical look, she informed me that it is "a perfectly good thing to blog about." o..k.. )

so, i've decided to do a blog comparison between debbie's suggestion and becky's suggestion which was:


so, here we go: debbie vs. soup:

debbie (pros) soup (pros)


1. lives close by 1. lives IN my apt. v. convenient

2. entertains me at work 2. comes with a cool label

3. nourishes my body (w/alcohol) 3. nourishes my body (w/nutrients)

4. walks to the subway with me 4. warm and tasty

5. (reluctantly) endorsed by becky 5. (majorly) endorsed by becky

okay, i must interrupt myself here. i just wrote to becky to see if she'd "endorse" debbie, you know, because my blog is factual-based and i wouldn't want to misrepresent anyone or anything. so this is how it went:






so, i'm inserting becky into the competition. i'll catch her up here:

becky (pros)

1. hilarious! (but rarely on purpose)

2. loses at scrabulous. a lot.

3. nourishes my body (w/tea or pee. not sure which, but tasted good)

4. goes to lesbian shul with me

5. endorsed by debbie AND soup

to continue:

debbie (pros) becky (pros) soup (pros)

6. shifty-eyed 6. chipper! (poss. con?) 6. delicious

7. makes snide comments 7. says the most random stuff 7. variety. never boring

8. drunk 8. drunk 8. drunk? (w/straw)

well, this is too close to call. i did just spend some time with debbie and becky, and debbie was eating soup, and we already know that becky endorses soup. i guess by their own admission, soup is the best.


soup wins, afterall!

Analgesics or My Headache Makes Me Short-Winded

today my head feels like this:



it's particularly upsetting because my headache has made my neck all but disappear, my eyebrows bushy and while i like my new skinny arms, my tiny ears have restricted my ability to eavesdrop.

woe is me!

seriously, though, my head has been hurting since the middle of the night. i actually got up to get water, which was a real feat because the kitten from hell is still staying with us. she lurks around every corner....


and i'm less funny than usual because i'm concentrating on how much my head hurts.

lucky for you, this means my blog is going to be really short.

so, i guess there is SOME good news.

No Need to Panic or Soothing Images, as Requested

i suggested that my friend, seb, read my blog to get a better sense of my life. or, you know, to give me the feeling that i'm not just writing to myself. anyway, his response to my blog was this:

so, as per his request:

and of course, mia farrow herself:

Hooked on a Feelin' or If You Like Pina Coladas

tis not normally my custom to blog on saturdays, as it is my day of rest (yes, i was just taking a cat nap. i can call it that because olive was sleeping next to me on the couch), yet here we are. what could be so important that i need to blog about it RIGHT NOW?

two things, really.

so, today i spent an obscene amount of money on eye care (read: eye exams, glasses and contact lenses) as i am extremely blind and the industry knows that it has me over a barrel. of course, i'm so blind that if they didn't correct my vision, then i wouldn't be able to see what was in the barrel or even the barrel at all, so it wouldn't really concern me. it's in the industry's best interest to correct my vision so i can see the barrel it holds me over and thus it can mock me more effectively.

but i digress.

spending so much money makes me very, very unhappy. very. especially since i didn't spend it on the frivolous purchase of every season of six feet under that i've been eying on amazon. (damn! see how they've got me? i couldn't eye the show if i couldn't see....)

that in combination with thing the second is what spurred on this sabbath day blog. what is that second thing, you ask? this email that i received from madamadam that said:

This would be you right after jumpy unpleasntness. (by which he meant after we de-planed in israel to singing and dancing israelis who made me want to cry. no, really, i was fighting off tears i was so tired and horrified.)

this email was accompanied by this picture:

this made me realize that i am:

a. unhappy a lot
b. very easy to read

let's take a look at some recent evidence of my easily read unhappiness (in order of most recent to least recent)....

in tel aviv


in the august heat

neverending story party (why was camille there?)

graduation. aka the loooongest day ever.

this is why alcohol is a necessity in life. here is evidence of how alcohol equals happiness (in no particular order, as these nights all blur together):

at gaby's

jnfuture. the future of the jewish people, and i don't even know who that guy is.

mara's b-day celebration

mara's engagement

vodka and mani. great idea

so let this be a lesson to you. if you want to take me from:




to:

gimme some:

My Mid-Morning Snack or Why I Look Like Edward Scissorhands

i just finished my mid-morning snack. generally, i like to hold off until eleven to enjoy my mid-morning snack, but today is special. why? i guess because i got hungry at ten thirty, okay? you always have to question everything i do!

anyway, today my mid-morning snack was particularly enjoyable, as it was one of these guys:

only the trader joe's brand. the kind i used to steal from aliza when i nannied for her. (she'd ask if there were any left and even though i had one in my bag, i'd lie and say no so that i could eat it later when she wasn't looking....)

i really like these guys. some reasons for this are:

they are 100% sugar

they are fruit, so i can pretend they are healthy

they taste yummy

they are pretty

but there are some drawbacks to this delicious treat. some of those include:

they encourage me to lie to children (although this is debatably a perk)

they are sticky

really, these are the only drawbacks, but being sticky is a huge problem for me. fruit leathers taste so good, yet, there is an epic struggle to get the damn things out of their wrappers without getting their stickiness all over my entire body. i swear, i'm like winnie-the-pooh when it comes to these guys:

and as happy as pooh looks, it doesn't make me happy to be covered in sticky. so, i have to carefully peel back the wrapper, which of course doesn't want to cooperate. i look so stupid fighting to turn the damn thing inside out without touching the fruit. and then i kind of have to attack it with my teeth, and i look like a dog or something. and then somehow, even though i've been SUPER careful, stickiness manages to sneak its way in between my fingers so that i look like edward scissorhands trying to unstick me fingers from each other. it's not worth it.

okay, yes it is. i LOVE these things....man, i'm really attractive as edward scissorhands. niiiiice.

Close Your Eyes or Dr. Freud on the Couch

this blog shall be about dreams. and i don't mean in the hippie-head-in-the-clouds-tiptoe-through-the-tulips-i-wanna-win-the-lottery-and-create-world-peace kind of dreams. i mean when you close your eyes and go to sleep for the night. and because i'm so cool, i'm going to analyze a few of these dreams.

dream 1:

her: i had a dream last night that i pushed manda out of a building window. a skyscraper window. i told her it was a test. i just got done watching the episode of lost where hurley's imaginery friend told him to jump off a cliff.

me: uh huh blame tv

her: in this situation. i am the imaginery friend. what do you think that says?

okay, so clearly this friend, who i will anonymously refer to as lenee, has issues. first of all, it is clear that she hates manda. why? i don't know.

maybe because manda is actually a panda:

or maybe it's that she plays the banjo:

these are possibilities. but i think the root of the issue here is that lenee feels insecure about her life. i mean, she's got this new business and it's going well, but it's all still up in the air, you know? (like a skyscraper, even!) whereas manda is coasting along, content in her banjo playing ways. maybe lenee longs to be in a place of stability, but she can't, which makes her feel invisible in her own world. therefore, her reaction is to knock amanda down from her place of stability by convincing her that it's better to take a leap, because that is the path she took for herself. but since manda won't jump, lenee has to push her.

or maybe it is tv's fault and renee is just too impressionable to be watching. i mean, lenee....

dream 2:

Last night I was at a club and I was at the bar (surprise surprise) with Lee (ugh, I know). We were having a good time then I look over and Sean and Patrick came in dressed as drag. Sean was a nurse with a wig and I didn't see Patricks' outfit, but he had a wig on. Later I glanced over and he had turned into a doctors outfit leaving Sean to be the only one still dressed in drag.

first, let me clarify and tell you that this dream belongs to pdb. if you don't know much about him, peruse his blog to get a better idea. it's important for you to know who you are dealing with here. okay, so this dream is interesting. to me, this dream is very telling. obviously, the setting and the company represent the gay lifestyle to which pdb currently prescribes. sean and patrick are such stereotypical and suggestive examples of the sort of flippant and wild gay scene here in new york, and the fact that they are dressed in drag says that they are hiding their true selves in order to fit into this lifestyle. we don't know how pdb is dressed, but lee is not dressed in drag. lee is pdb's ideal, and what he longs for (in reality). so. the fact that lee is dressed normally, seems to suggest that maybe what pdb is really longing for is a chance to truly express himself as an individual first, rather than as a gay individual. maybe he sees hope for patrick to one day reveal his true self as well. maybe not.

maybe pdb drank too much and passed out wearing a wig and the dye seeped into his brain.

dream 3:

this is my dream. mara and i were like characters in buffy or something. that is to say, we had super skillful fighting powers. but the fact that we were jewish meant that we had to go into hiding in attics. so, we were trying to hide, but the spaces weren't so good, we were still visible. mara chose to fight, and i chose to run from rooftop to rooftop until i fell.

then i was in a wrestling match, but they wouldn't let me wrestle until i handed out a certain number of brochures or something. so, i was trying to get people to take them, but a lot of people wouldn't. then a couple of chicks from birthright came and i asked them to take, and snootily they did, but then they threw them on the ground, so i didn't get to wrestle. it was tragic.

this dream is so obvious that i feel a little silly analyzing it. but here goes. it means that i am great and enjoy knitting. also, send me money.

no really. send me money.

Peanut Butter Jelly Time or I Forgot a Title

i thought i'd mix things up and write first thing in the morning rather than waiting until i'm too busy and then doing it. this way, ideas are fresh in my head, and the IT department probably isn't searching my computer for reasons to fire me. yet.


the only problem is, my brain hasn't fully started working yet. granted, it could take weeks for it to FULLY start working, but all the same, i'm feeling a little sluggish. it doesn't help that it's overcast and rainy outside. stupid rain.





ew! i just at a bad sugar snap pea

now my mouth is mad at me. this is terrible news! anyway, i have been spending my morning doing two things (this is not including the time i have to take out of my schedule to glare at people who ask me to do work. but, really, one of the requests i've gotten was to put something on my boss's desk. this is a ridiculous request as my boss's desk is literally three feet in front of mine. in fact it'd be easier for you to put it on her desk than for you to walk to mine, as her's is nearer the doorway. but, anyway...)

the first thing i've been doing is entering data into our database. this is boring, and i don't like to do it. it amazes me what jobs you have to have a degree for. really? i potentially spent hundreds of thousands of dollars for an education so that i could be qualified to stuff envelopes and do data entry?

interesting.

the second thing i've been doing, is looking for the mcdonald's commercial that makes my sister (and me) cry.

this, of course, got me thinking about other commercials that make me cry. like that oreo commercial where the dad is waiting for his adultish daughter to come home and she's like

hey dad.

and then she goes and grabs some oreos, and he's like

i remember when you used to need me to help you open those cookies.

and he looks so sad, and so she comes over and asks for his help. and i can't convey how touching this moment is!

and of course there's the toys "r" us commercial where they sing the i don't wanna grow up song, and it shows the kids who were in the original commercial in the 80s followed by how they are when they grow up playing with the same toys. SO UPSETTING! why do they have to grow up?

thinking about these commercials made me think about the other television things that make me cry. like in the futurama episode leela's homeworld where we see the montage of leela's parents doing nice things for her over the years and this song is playing.

okay. this is making me all weepy at work, and i don't want to have to explain that i'm sad because leela's parents never got to see her grow up. so, i'm going to go back to data entry.

where did all of our interns go???