Charmin Ultra - less is more

When I was younger, my P.E. teacher (remember calling them that since it stood for "Physical Education" which was entirely too long to pronounce?) used to call me Charmin, because my last name sorta sounded like it and, according to him, it rhymed. Not so. That's like when my Dad, growing up, first learned about rhyming words and said that "tin" and "can" rhyme.

Yesterday a commercial came on tv comparing Charmin Ultra to brand X of toilet paper, and how less of Charmin worked better at absorption than the other brand. That, I believed. Their scientific approach was a bunch of bullshit. They laid a piece of toilet paper down and spritzed it with a water solution that was tinted blue. After a few seconds (gotta love time lapse), they lifted it up, showed the Charmin still in tact, and showed that the surface below the Charmin was completely dry!!!!!!

Problems with said advertisement:
1) Who pees blue?
2) Who only pees the equivalent of about a split second of pee? Let's see the above example after a long night of drinking, followed up by the "next morning" pee.
3) What about poop? Are they going to throw a Baby Ruth on there and see if it's gonna hold up?
4) Who ever needs or wants to touch the surface anywhere near any piss, crap or anything coming out of "those" orafices? I don't give a shit if the counter is dryer than the other brand.... is there anything to do with toilet paper other than the following steps: a) wipe and b) flush?

Apparently the folks at Charmin are robots and have never experienced what going to the bathroom actually means. Talk about false advertisements. Yeah - you could say the ad bugged the shit out of me and really pissed me off.

Don't steal what's not really mine

I arrange music for a cappella groups. I have arranged for my groups in the past, arrange for my current group, and was fortunate enough to break into arranging for other groups and get paid for it. This isn't comprised of writing original songs, but taking another song, doing a "cover" of it, and arranging for anywhere from 4-11 part harmonies. As far as I know, there's no legal way to protect these arrangements, and I'm finding out that members from my old group (both in college and post-college) have basically taken my arrangements with them to other groups. It's an incredibly frustrating situation because there's no legal recourse, I honestly consider these people my friends, but in a way, since I can get paid for this, it's making me lose money. I had to send an e-mail asking all people I've ever sung with (this goes back over 10 years!) to ask them to just ask my permission first.

Welcome to "Super Anal Rentitive" side of me. Check your absent-mindedness and lack of attention to teeny weeny details at the door.

Avoid the "Danny & Pepper Jerk Express"

You'll understand the title when you reach #8 below. This entry is dedicated as the Top 10 Reasons You Know You're A True Foodie. Not a gourmet foodie, but just an unhealthy obsession with food, talking about food, reading and writing about it.

1) I read "Fast Food Nation" and yet I've been spotted with a McDonald's burger since that book.

2) I read "The Man Who Ate Everything" and thought "he could've eaten more - he didn't really eat EHHHHVERYTHING".

3) I watched "Supersize Me". Ditto to #2 about still having McD's every so often. I have even driven to the one drive-through McDonald's in Manhattan. Bet YOU don't know where it is.

4) I signed up on Zagat's to be a reviewer for them. Seriously. You submit a few reviews, even if/when they don't get published, and you get a free copy of the book. EVERY YEAR. I have the silliest Zagat's (Movies, Broadway shows, nightlife, etc)

5) One of my bookmarks: Eater - a site purely about NYC restaurants openings, closings, buzz, etc.

6) Chowhound - site for NY foodies to recommend what's good in what neighborhood, etc.

7) GOLDEN APPLE AWARD: These are given out by the NY Dept of Health Inspections. The NY Restaurant Inspection Lists are here - you can sort by zip code or by violation points too see what's REALLY gross.

8) My version is the GOLDEN SHITBOX AWARD: Follow-up to #7. I wasted time and wanted to see what restaurant in NYC got the worst rating based on violations. Danny and Pepper earned 193. You are in some serious shit if you get a 35 or worse. Don't worry, the DOHI closed 'em down.

9) I save my "fat" pants just in case I get REAAAAAALLLLY into food again.

10) Though a slightly "almost racist" statement (screw it - it's my blog) - what Jew do you know that doesn't love food? I can tell you which ones. The ones that LIE. Every gathering we have revolves around food. Hell - we have a freakin' HOLIDAY that centralizes around what certain foods symbolize all piled on one plate. AND - our holiday that asks us to be forgiven for our wrong-doings? We repent by NOT EATING.

Time to write a book

For years I've been saying I want to write. Write articles, write a book, write in my blog. Now's the time to kick myself in the ass and start in on this book. Not a pleasant topic but one that's built up inside of me from the last 17 years - obsessive compulsive disorder. Not from the perspective of science or medicine but more of the personal side of what it's like to live with it.

And off we go... step one, chapter outlines. My gameplan is courtesy of my good friend, who writes for a living and is currently writing a book.

So um yeah - it's broken

5 days after the hospital visit, the doc called and said they did a "re-read" (what the fuck is that?) of my x-ray and my finger is broken. I go to a specialist who confirms it and even shows me the break on the x-ray, and a few weeks later my finger is still in a lovely splint. But it's a nifty high-tech splint that looks like it was made out of silly putty that hardens to your finger. I am doing way too much typing as it is and am supposed to lay off it. Still ugly bruising and now a nice fat bump on it now that swelling is starting to subside. More entries to come when my finger is healed in mid-May unless I'm feeling particularly feisty to write an entry before then...

Hello neighborhood hospital

Well now that I'm in a new neighborhood, I had a chance to visit my new local hospital, apparently picking one that was actually FURTHER from another one close to me. After jury duty (I was selected and am on a case but can't discuss until it's over... should be short), I left the courthouse, tripped and fell on a VERY beat up sidewalk, and damn near broke my hand. 90 minutes at the hospital showed it wasn't broken, but damn it's an ugly bruise all up and down my pointer finger. Fortunately - my non-dominant hand, but I'm forced into short posts/less typing until it heals! I'm not a clutz I swear - the sidewalk was horrible.

Blogging jury duty

Well, I made it past my 29th birthday and had never been summoned for jury duty until now. I postponed my service until now because before it was smack in the middle of moving. Of course, the post office lost my second form I was to receive with my new date, and so I had to show up at the courthouse at 8am to get a new form. That was the bad news. The good news is there are 6 stations inside the 'waiting' room for laptop computers, and yours truly was here early enough to land one. I think there are more stations outside but I'm parked right by the window (complete with cool breeze) but also next to the men's room. The desk is a little high but the chairs are pretty comfortable, so I'm sure my carpal tunnel-like symptoms will emerge once again by the time I'm done serving.

I'll add updates throughout the day if there's anything exciting, yet I somehow have psychic powers today and know there won't be much to report!

10AM update: still no names called yet. They put everyone's tickets into a hopper and that's how we get chosen. I'm so glad I got this workstation and am not cramped next to everyone in the main section of the room. This breeze by the window is a blessing: they asked if anyone was warm and about 10 people on the other side of the room raised their hands. Suckers. Isn't this the most boring entry ever?

Meeting a child of Communist Germany

I normally don't find myself on a computer when I'm on vacation, but I've had a lot of down time on this vacation (I'm in the Caribbean with my family) and had free internet access. I met a fascinating person who's about my age who grew up in Communist Germany named Madlen - she's 31 and was 14 when the Berlin Wall came down. We wound up talking with her for about an hour; she had a bad experience with someone Jewish. When they found out she was German, beforehand they were really quite nice to her and befriended her. Once they found out - they turned cold and stopped talking to her. So - since she doesn't interact with many Jewish people, being Jewish she asked my husband and I if most Jews disliked Germans. I explained to her my perspective - it's a generation gap where people my parents' age and older may not have a desire to learn more or experience visiting Germany, and even some people my grandparents' age hate Germans. Understandably, being alive during WWII it's obvious where those feelings come from, but being a child of Generation X, which I consider a somewhat "rebellious generation", it makes me really uncomfortable when someone says something like "well their people killed ours" -- but what does that have to do with those descendants today?

As for my husband and I - it's more of a fascination with a culture and finding someone our age who "only got bananas twice a year" and wasn't allowed to watch American tv, it was a unique and educational perspective I'd never heard before. Madlen was taught that Hitler was bad and what he did was wrong, but she also had no opportunity to learn about religion and has no religion herself.

Wow. My first semi-political post.

Not so much to say

I'm posting today only b/c it's been over two weeks since my last post, and I really wanted to be consistent with my blog. I know many of my posts are funny complaints, silly stories, or just "what the fuck" posts - and I'm NEVER political on my blog (not yet, at least)...

Today I will post to say that it's 24 degrees in NYC, sunny, and my hubby and I are moving in less than a month. I couldn't be more excited. My friends are all starting to turn 30, I'm starting to see more wrinkles, and I am starting to make a very very very modest (we're not breaking the bank here) living at doing arrangements for a cappella groups.

Me and my big mouth

Have you ever told someone "Hey check out my blog at www.blablabla.com" and then regretted you told them about it? I never realized my blog would be such an outlet for me to vent feelings, and unfortunately I'm at the point where I can't remember which people I've told my site about... and some of them might be offended if I posted stuff that indirectly pertains to them. No - to you that are my friends that I e-mail/IM with on a weekly basis, this is not you, but let's just say from my old singing group I think I told one too many people about this blog.

I am loving my new singing group, missing my friends dearly in my old one (you know who you are) and the girls I was just starting to become good friends with, but not missing: the drama, lack of "type-A-getting-stuff-done" attitude, and not missing the silly rules I hated to abide by. It's just a good feeling in life when you make a decision and the future reinforces the fact that you feel like you made the right decision. I was so worried that when I left my a cappella group I'd kick myself for doing it.

Now let's see how long it takes to get this post back to the group and "what a bitch" I am/must be.

The sheer stupidity of online quizzes

There are literally THOUSANDS of online quizzes you can take for fun; merely to see the results and say "oh that's so NOT true" or "oh how cool, that's totally me" or "No way, I'm not Day and Night Barbie, I'm glam Barbie", or my personal favorite:

"Neat. Let me send to my friends so they can have the same reaction."

Here's a quiz I took about what I should major in. I guess I need to go back to school and have my music degrees revoked. At least I'm comforted in knowing Journalism made the top of my list, and I'm a die-hard LOVE to write writer.

You scored as Journalism. You are an aspiring journalist! Journalism 92% Linguistics 83% Psychology 75% English 67% Philosophy 58% Mathematics 50% Theater 50% Anthropology 50% Art 33% Dance 33% Engineering 25% Sociology 25% Biology 17% Chemistry 0% created with QuizFarm.com

Happy 29 to me. For real.

So many people have birthdays and use the old adage of "29 again, huh?" - well today I really am 29. Birthdays like 26 and 27 were a little depressing because I started to feel old, but somehow 29 doesn't feel bad at all. Actually it feels pretty great - probably because my husband turns the big 3-0 in two months. Hee hee.

Addictive Site of the Day

Imagine your typical refrigerator with magnetic letters on it. Imagine trying to spell a word while 40 other people are trying at the same time; taking your letters whenever they want. I don't know how long this site will be up but you have to check it out because it's virtual fridge magnet letters and it's maddening how addictive it is. Enjoy!

4 times in a century

In the last 100 years, Christmas and the beginning of Hanukkah have fallen on the same day, so I felt it was necessary to post today to both honor that and wish all my readers, my friends, and anyone who stumbles upon this post a Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, and Merry Christmas!!!

Goddamn Pop Tarts

I guess I got what I deserved, since I'm 28 and still eating kids' foods like Pop Tarts. I made a PT in the toaster this morning, set it on low since they cook very fast, and lo and behold - I got a fucking blister on TWO fingers when attempting to remove the said pastry vessel from the toaster. Apparently, some of the delightful strawberry filling can secretly ooze out of the bottom of the PT and burn the shit out of your fingers. 30 minutes later, fingers are still stinging, but mmmmm - love those pop tarts. Other childish foods I (and my husband) still indulge in: (yes, I'm trying to get really fat before the new year so I can vow to lose more weight for a resolution)

1) Lucky Charms (these colored marshmallows can mess with your bodily functions big time)
2) Brownies - baked from the box
3) Fruit by the foot - I only get these about 3x a year; you mean it's not part of the fruit food group? My bad.
4) Super pretzels - 4 minutes in the oven; such an easy snack

I guess the good news is after being married about 1 1/2 years ago and hitting my all-time lowest weight since I can remember, I weigh only 5 pounds (ok, 6. well really 7 but that depends on the time of day) more than I did then.

A true transit tale.

You're probably aware of the transit strike in NYC. No busses, no subways. It literally crippled the city to the point that it looked like a summer weekend when everyone goes away. In a way it was kind of delightful - I usually hear honking off the West Side Highway and today was peaceful. If you don't live here, you don't realize that EVERYONE, I mean EVERYONE, relies on mass transit to get around. Workers from restaurants, employees, teachers, students... and to top it off, all cars were restricted from coming in unless they had 4 people from 5am-11am. No commercial vehicles could come in. I bet a lot of people didn't get their Big Macs for lunch because no truck could deliver them on time.

My husband works with this guy Brad who lives around here and has to get to the office, which is here. This is a 2.4 mile walk. Brad had to do the walk to get to work today, or so we thought. At around 20th and 6th Avenue, Brad sees 3 kids, about high school age, line up to board a big yellow school bus. In an instant, Brad decided, "Hey - I'm gettin on the bus. 6th Avenue goes North, I'll see where it takes me." So Brad gets on, goes to sit in the back (of course that's where all the cool kids sit), and pulls his hood up over his head so no one recognizes him, or doesn't recognize him, for that matter. He starts talking to the kids about where the bus is going, and one tells him, "Our private school in the Bronx". The Bronx is the borough north of Manhattan, which means about a 25+ minute DRIVE out of Manhattan to get there. The bus turns west, heading even closer to the office, and the kids tell him the next stop is 52nd/10th. So what does Brad do? He goes to the front and says to the bus driver, "Hey - I got on the wrong bus can you let me off" to which the driver replies, "I can only let you off at the designated stops". The bus continues on, Brad sits behind the bus driver tapping his shoulder every time a light is red and the bus stops, and eventually, Brad gets off right near the office at 41st between 8th and 9th Avenue.

How scary is it that a 24-year old man could get on a high school bus without anyone asking who he is, sit in the back for 10 minutes, talk to the driver and then get off? AND - all the students were in UNIFORMS, so picking out a stranger would be pretty easy to do... Or - the way I see it, how cool that, despite the transit strike, Brad got to work only 45 minutes late and for FREE?

I think this story deserves a "hell yeah".

The decisiveness of Mrs. Indecisive

So, I said here that I was going to leave my singing group. I pushed up the date today after a whole lot of undue stress that the group was causing me and that I was probably causing the group. I had my last show, my last solo on Monday with the group. Don't you hate it when you make decisions that you're not 100% certain about, but you still feel like you have to make them now?

I have to start learning to take my husband's advice about "Once you have made a decision, it's made and you should never look back on it."

How busy can you be? Damn, I'm shallow today.

Disclaimer: this is a bitchy post; granted - I am a complainer by nature, which is not my best quality, but this one might make you think I'm shallow, which I'm not if you know me personally. It's a really stupid post but just got my blood racing a little. Speaking of complaining, a good friend of mine just told me that every time he calls, I complain about my health, like my back hurts, I'm tired, I don't feel so well. Am I really a negative person?

I have a group of friends that is exchanging Secret Santa gifts tomorrow (well, Santa and Hanukkah, too). We've known about it for 2 weeks. One person said she wants to postpone it for a week because she hasn't had time to get a gift. If she lived on a remote island off the coast of Alaska and had to take a boat and sled full of dogs to get to the nearest store, I'd be fine with it. But no - she lives in NYC and in a very populated area. Our gift has to be under $20. Let's see - she could've bought a candle, jewelry, food, stationery or even a purse all within about a 10 minute walk from where she lives and had two weeks to do it. This person does not deal with stress well (what is a typical day of work for anyone to her is the end of the world) and though Secret Santa is not a big deal at all, I'd like to buy her a clock and teach her time management for Secret Santa. Too bad the person I have isn't her. I bet she has me.

What makes you nostalgic?

Pictures are usually the one thing I can see that bring up the strongest feelings of nostalgia, but this morning, it wasn't pictures. It was dishes. When my husband and I first started dating, he lived in a 400 sq foot studio in NYC. We both went to work during the day, met up at graduate school at night, and usually came home for dinner to his studio (I still had my own place) no earlier than 9:15PM. Our favorite meal was grilled chicken on the George Forman, which he hasn't made in years, a baked potato, and some kind of caffeinated drink to keep us awake to do our homework. We ate on these plain, cream-colored plates with a little blue trim every night. When we'd eat at my place, it was on dishes that weren't as great. When we moved in together, we had the new fortune of two sets (!) of dishes to share. For the last 6 years, I think we've used my dishes once and use his cream/blue trim dishes every night. They were pretty cheap, but in 6 years not one bowl or plate was broken.

Today I gave away those dishes. Now that we're married and finally got our wedding gifts (most of them) from Florida to NYC a year and a half later, we have a new set of dishes to use. They're really pretty, really grown up, and really not our old dishes. I have so many memories of late nights in front of the couch eating on those dishes, eating our wedding cake on our one-year anniversary using those dishes, and even cooking for friends - or should I say 'pretending to cook' - when we have rare company come over to visit.

The dishes are neatly bubble-wrapped and ready to go home with someone else. This posting is an homage to them so I don't have to physically say goodbye to them and look like a crazy person. Then again, dedicating an entire post to dishes makes me crazy as it is.

What makes you nostalgic?

Florida - 80. New York - 25.

It may look like a sports score but it's a temperature battle. I feel so badly for my apartment, my mom, and all of the NYCers who are 'back home' while I'm on Thanksgiving vacation in Florida where it's already 80 degrees in Ft. Lauderdale. I guess even with Black Friday being today, there are droves of insane people in NY for just this holiday who are literally going to shop until their lungs drop from the weather.

This past year was one of the first Thanksgivings in recent memory that

a) I didn't stuff myself

b) regretfully, there was no sliced fake cranberry sauce jelly to eat

c) I didn't unbutton my pants until I got in bed, opposed to doing it at the table