I was browsing the front page of nytimes.com and read the top story, which is out of London. Apparently there was an old Mercedes packed with petrol and nails which started to fog up/smoke last night outside of the popular night club Tiger Tiger. Ambulance crew members probably assisting a drunken chick who fell down some stairs took note and called in the police.
Now, there was one line in the article which truly cracked me up. Peter Clarke, Britain's senior most counter terrorism officer said "we are keeping an entirely open mind" regarding the potential suspects. As Guy said, is that code for "the suspect might not be Muslim?"
Obviously Clarke's job meddles with a sensitive social situation in the UK, but come on - the IRA throws mini bombs in trash cans, do you really think they'll snap their hands one day and say "ah yes, we do have that Mercedes we could fill up." And correct me if I'm wrong (very possible) but wouldn't those Irish guys send in little warning phone calls so people could run away? And the Irish love to drink, chances of them wanting to hurt a drinking establishment are very slim.
Or perhaps the "entirely open mind" must be kept because it's fathomable some school girls from Richmond were involved! Or the leprecons! Perhaps it's all a conspiracy and Brown had just wanted to come in with a bang (no pun intended) so he had the scene set up!
Now lets look at another sensitive social situation. When I go to the airport I sometimes get picked out for some extra checkings. This woman gives me a full body massage while I'm standing, measures my magnetic enegery pulses with this wand that looks like a streightening iron ripped in half, and finishes off with repacking my carry-on for me. And then she lets me go on my merry way. Now think about this - what are the chances that a very white, 20 year old, female is going to want to blow up the plane? That's what I thought.
Profiling may be un-pc, but when I see grandparents in wheel chairs having their shoes taken off by airport staff and 12 year olds with Barbie backpacks being asked if they packed their carry ons themselves I have to wonder if profiling is really that bad of an idea. Of course - if you were to let it be tolerated with airport security who knows what kind of precedent that would encourage among the rest of the general public. And so the politically correct circle swings around again. Perhaps it is better that a couple obviously-non-terrorist-types get held up for a second.
Friday, June 29
Wednesday, June 27
Ode to the Zipper
Think about it - the zipper is a very important invention. Those little plastic teeth, the Y shaped key you whip up and down your jacket when you're too hot or too cold. And they're waterproof! But most importantly - isn't it interesting that the popular YKK brand of zipper, based in Hong Kong, is so popular that almost EVERYTHING you zip has their letters on it.
Look at your croch. Right now. Check out the long reflecting bit. And what does it say on your zipper? Yeah, that's what I thought - YKK rules the world. FYI - this croch zipper is typically of the "metallic zipper" family, very common in pants. My Lucky Jeans even say "L U C K Y Y O U" as I unzip them. Cute, I know.
What is possibly most interesting about YKK is their production tactics. This is what I was told by my marketing prof in London before I dropped his class: Their factories are under lock and key, employees sign all these contracts saying they wont tell anyone how the zippers are manufactured, and the buildings are unmarked. Top secret stuff.
You've got to give YKK credit for knowing their market well, and what price they can sell at. Because my real Gucci bag (my defense: I found it in my attic, an old Christmas present to my mother about 15 years ago, I don't waste money on that crap) has a YKK zipper. And today I was walking along 27th St past a fake bag store and even those "Fucci" (Fake + Gucci) bags have YKK zippers. It may be a fake bag, but even the fake bag manufacturer uses the authentic product's same bits.
When did zippers become so popular? T'was the 1920's and 1930's when children's clothes and men's pants departed the Button Age. But women were warned by clergymen that zippers hastened the undressing process and hence perpetuated sexual activities. I can only wonder what their response would be to my jeans. It wasn't until designers like Elsa Schiaparelli started incorporating the "invisible zipper" into clothing in the late 30's and by the late 50's, women were wearing zippers everywhere!
Look at your croch. Right now. Check out the long reflecting bit. And what does it say on your zipper? Yeah, that's what I thought - YKK rules the world. FYI - this croch zipper is typically of the "metallic zipper" family, very common in pants. My Lucky Jeans even say "L U C K Y Y O U" as I unzip them. Cute, I know.
What is possibly most interesting about YKK is their production tactics. This is what I was told by my marketing prof in London before I dropped his class: Their factories are under lock and key, employees sign all these contracts saying they wont tell anyone how the zippers are manufactured, and the buildings are unmarked. Top secret stuff.
You've got to give YKK credit for knowing their market well, and what price they can sell at. Because my real Gucci bag (my defense: I found it in my attic, an old Christmas present to my mother about 15 years ago, I don't waste money on that crap) has a YKK zipper. And today I was walking along 27th St past a fake bag store and even those "Fucci" (Fake + Gucci) bags have YKK zippers. It may be a fake bag, but even the fake bag manufacturer uses the authentic product's same bits.
When did zippers become so popular? T'was the 1920's and 1930's when children's clothes and men's pants departed the Button Age. But women were warned by clergymen that zippers hastened the undressing process and hence perpetuated sexual activities. I can only wonder what their response would be to my jeans. It wasn't until designers like Elsa Schiaparelli started incorporating the "invisible zipper" into clothing in the late 30's and by the late 50's, women were wearing zippers everywhere!
Tuesday, June 26
Sharon and her watch
Me and my intern friend who will be nicknamed Uw (for Upper West Side) just found this package that was mailed to our building address on May 31, 2007. In it is a broken watch, because, you guessed it - this floor used to be a watch factory of some sort. I can see the asian sweat shop laborers now...
Anyways, the woman (Sharon) enclosed within the original box:
1) a receipt
2) her card with the phone number scrapped out a different phone number written in
4) a warranty card with our address printed on it
5) a check that adds up to the correct sum for repairing the watch while under warranty
6)...isn't this getting depressing?
7) a note written in messy script explaining her sister gave it to her and it broke after wearing it twice... on a shrivel of post-it note paper with purple print which reads "Pathways Community Hospice."
Now I feel horrible. This old lady wanted to wear her cheesy watch decorated in roses; she's a nice old lady, you can tell because she even wrote on a check printed with little puppies - in a basket while wearing bows. She's so old her motor skills were going shot, that's why her hand writing is exclusively large fonted and wobbely. This was probably her last wish, to get her silly watch with roses on it back to her wrist in one piece. And now she won't die in peace because of it. Because she was in a HOSPICE!
How can I help? I can call her. But I can't call her because she isn't picking up at the listed phone number. I think she may already be gone! Life just isn't fair.
Monday, June 25
Women's Weight, How I Measure
I have an issue. Women lie about their weight all the time. And I don't. No seriously, I don't. And it isn't fair. So I was thinking, how can I subtract some of my weight and still feel honest?
My breasts weigh approx 5lb. No I did not try and weigh them myself, I looked it up on the internet. And I'm not one of those chicks who complains "oh my gosh, my boobs are like, sooo big" while my ass hangs into the next subway seat, my arms suffocating half the car, or have thighs causing traffic jams. I have no control over my 5lbers, it's completely up to nature. So why must I suffer the consequences of telling people I weigh that extra +5lb?
Lets look at the reasons I have these breasts/boobs/tits. There is the obvious - nature/God/whatever thinks I'll be having babies that will need milk (insert laugh here). But we humans are the only species that continues to have swollen breasts when not pregnant/nursing/"in heat." One idea is that because women don't show clear signs of ovulation cycles (PMSing doesn't count), breasts lured in the male species to think we were always ovulating! More sex all the time!
Wikipedia has some great ideas:
"Some zoologists believe that the shape of female breasts evolved as a frontal counterpart to that of the buttox, the reason being that whilst other primates mate in the rear-entry position, humans are more likely to successfully copulate mating face on. A secondary sexual characteristic on a woman’s chest would have encouraged this in more primitive incarnations of the human race, and a face on encounter may have helped found a relationship between partners beyond merely a sexual one."
These primitive answers explain so much. And yeah, that is a link to wikipedia's "rear-entry" description. For the record, I now weigh 145 lb.
My breasts weigh approx 5lb. No I did not try and weigh them myself, I looked it up on the internet. And I'm not one of those chicks who complains "oh my gosh, my boobs are like, sooo big" while my ass hangs into the next subway seat, my arms suffocating half the car, or have thighs causing traffic jams. I have no control over my 5lbers, it's completely up to nature. So why must I suffer the consequences of telling people I weigh that extra +5lb?
Lets look at the reasons I have these breasts/boobs/tits. There is the obvious - nature/God/whatever thinks I'll be having babies that will need milk (insert laugh here). But we humans are the only species that continues to have swollen breasts when not pregnant/nursing/"in heat." One idea is that because women don't show clear signs of ovulation cycles (PMSing doesn't count), breasts lured in the male species to think we were always ovulating! More sex all the time!
Wikipedia has some great ideas:
"Some zoologists believe that the shape of female breasts evolved as a frontal counterpart to that of the buttox, the reason being that whilst other primates mate in the rear-entry position, humans are more likely to successfully copulate mating face on. A secondary sexual characteristic on a woman’s chest would have encouraged this in more primitive incarnations of the human race, and a face on encounter may have helped found a relationship between partners beyond merely a sexual one."
These primitive answers explain so much. And yeah, that is a link to wikipedia's "rear-entry" description. For the record, I now weigh 145 lb.
Friday, June 22
My Water
Question of the Day:
I always pee before I go in the shower. Or go swimming. It' s that combo of waters that I just can't handle - full bladder, water on my skin. You know. So here's my question - why do I wipe before getting into the shower? I'm drying off down there just to walk into a big white container that will rain on me and get me wet again. And that "walk" is like, one step. Especially when I get out of the pool to pee and then am about to go right back in -why? I wipe and dry and then jump in the pool.
Also - I'm still in shock I linked my domain name from GoDaddy.com to my blog! So technically advanced of me! It wasn't working last night but that may have been because the site says it takes 2 - 6 hrs to upload.
Nothing much happened this morning. Goldy brought in this puly system lever thing, and G-Unit (my boss, who is Greek and shorter and slightly wide, like a unit, so he's now G-Unit) was talking about the power wires. It brought back all of those high school physics class memories with Mr. Klingler.
I always pee before I go in the shower. Or go swimming. It' s that combo of waters that I just can't handle - full bladder, water on my skin. You know. So here's my question - why do I wipe before getting into the shower? I'm drying off down there just to walk into a big white container that will rain on me and get me wet again. And that "walk" is like, one step. Especially when I get out of the pool to pee and then am about to go right back in -why? I wipe and dry and then jump in the pool.
Also - I'm still in shock I linked my domain name from GoDaddy.com to my blog! So technically advanced of me! It wasn't working last night but that may have been because the site says it takes 2 - 6 hrs to upload.
Nothing much happened this morning. Goldy brought in this puly system lever thing, and G-Unit (my boss, who is Greek and shorter and slightly wide, like a unit, so he's now G-Unit) was talking about the power wires. It brought back all of those high school physics class memories with Mr. Klingler.
Golf Balls and Lois Lane
Two thoughts from the evening...
1. Where do televised golf shows find the camera person who follows the ball through the air? I've got to admit, I think that person has a serious skill. I know I couldn't follow it. Such a small bit, flying through the air. And what about when it's against a cloudy background? Very difficult.
2. Why is that in stories, characters can be such idiots when it comes to recognizing each other. It takes Mercédès forever to realize the Count of Monte Cristo is Edmund Dantès. Olivia thinks that Sebastian is Cesario and proposes to him (i don't care if they're twins, they're obviously not identical being both girl and boy). And Lois Lane, that girl just can't put it all together can she? Clark Kent = Superman. Not such a hard concept.
Anyways, that's my rant for the day. cheers.
1. Where do televised golf shows find the camera person who follows the ball through the air? I've got to admit, I think that person has a serious skill. I know I couldn't follow it. Such a small bit, flying through the air. And what about when it's against a cloudy background? Very difficult.
2. Why is that in stories, characters can be such idiots when it comes to recognizing each other. It takes Mercédès forever to realize the Count of Monte Cristo is Edmund Dantès. Olivia thinks that Sebastian is Cesario and proposes to him (i don't care if they're twins, they're obviously not identical being both girl and boy). And Lois Lane, that girl just can't put it all together can she? Clark Kent = Superman. Not such a hard concept.
Anyways, that's my rant for the day. cheers.
Thursday, June 21
Dear NJ Transit, your employee sucks.
This happened to me on NJ Transit this morning. So I wrote an email to their complaints department. Anything in italics is what I wanted to say, but could not because there was a word limit/my thought are totally un PC.
Dear NJ Transit,
Today something happened which amazed me as much as pissed me off. On the 8:41am train from Summit to Penn Station (express - i love that it only makes 2 stops) your conductor took my money! I've traveled enough on this line to know how it works, I want to make it clear I'm not some confused old Jewish woman who always thinks she's getting ripped off. I promise, this really happened:
I had a normal ticket (non-rush hour) I bought from the kiosk in a "round trip," pack for $13. I knew this was a rush hour train that costs $7.50 . Seeing that my ticket cost $6.50 one-way, I knew I'd need to top it off with an extra $1. I thought there may be some charge so I put my $6.50 ticket and $3.00 in cash in the little metal slide thing next to the aisle for the conductor.
The man sitting next to me had to buy his ticket on the train (he was actually a fellow high school alum, graduated 1 yr before me). The conductor gave him a receipt and walked off. I politely called after him, "Excuse me! Excuse me!", but he didn't turn around. Funny he didn't hear me because half of the sitting passengers turned and it made me look like a raving lunatic.
So after our Broad Street, Newark stop he strolled through the aisle and I politely asked him for my change. He looked at me kind of confused and said "I don't have your $3. Are you saying I took your $3? When I walked through there was only this (referring to that long white strip with brown print and #'s on it), and that guy bought a ticket." I told him I had $3 with my ticket there and then the 2 men sitting in my row both backed me up saying they saw the $3 too, actually only my high school gang member did - but 2 sounds better than 1. He just shrugged and I decided it wasn't worth fighting about. And well, perhaps we had a slight debate - it may have involved me responding to his "do you think I took your $3" with a "Yes, I know you did."
I don't know his name, but this conductor is always in the very 1st car on the 8:41am Summit train to Penn Station. He's average height, good looking, a little shaved beard thing stubbeling about his sideburns/chin that makes him look like a goat going through puberty. As I said earlier, I'm as much in shock that this guy did this to me (because he's an official employee) as I am pissed off at him.
I just wanted you to be aware of the incident.
Have a nice day.
Now the debate is...do I buy another normal ticket ($6.50) tomorrow, and when he dares to ask for me to step it up to $7.50 I refuse? Or do I just buy an express ticket before hand?
Dear NJ Transit,
Today something happened which amazed me as much as pissed me off. On the 8:41am train from Summit to Penn Station (express - i love that it only makes 2 stops) your conductor took my money! I've traveled enough on this line to know how it works, I want to make it clear I'm not some confused old Jewish woman who always thinks she's getting ripped off. I promise, this really happened:
I had a normal ticket (non-rush hour) I bought from the kiosk in a "round trip," pack for $13. I knew this was a rush hour train that costs $7.50 . Seeing that my ticket cost $6.50 one-way, I knew I'd need to top it off with an extra $1. I thought there may be some charge so I put my $6.50 ticket and $3.00 in cash in the little metal slide thing next to the aisle for the conductor.
The man sitting next to me had to buy his ticket on the train (he was actually a fellow high school alum, graduated 1 yr before me). The conductor gave him a receipt and walked off. I politely called after him, "Excuse me! Excuse me!", but he didn't turn around. Funny he didn't hear me because half of the sitting passengers turned and it made me look like a raving lunatic.
So after our Broad Street, Newark stop he strolled through the aisle and I politely asked him for my change. He looked at me kind of confused and said "I don't have your $3. Are you saying I took your $3? When I walked through there was only this (referring to that long white strip with brown print and #'s on it), and that guy bought a ticket." I told him I had $3 with my ticket there and then the 2 men sitting in my row both backed me up saying they saw the $3 too, actually only my high school gang member did - but 2 sounds better than 1. He just shrugged and I decided it wasn't worth fighting about. And well, perhaps we had a slight debate - it may have involved me responding to his "do you think I took your $3" with a "Yes, I know you did."
I don't know his name, but this conductor is always in the very 1st car on the 8:41am Summit train to Penn Station. He's average height, good looking, a little shaved beard thing stubbeling about his sideburns/chin that makes him look like a goat going through puberty. As I said earlier, I'm as much in shock that this guy did this to me (because he's an official employee) as I am pissed off at him.
I just wanted you to be aware of the incident.
Have a nice day.
Now the debate is...do I buy another normal ticket ($6.50) tomorrow, and when he dares to ask for me to step it up to $7.50 I refuse? Or do I just buy an express ticket before hand?
Wednesday, June 20
Guy and His Girlfriend
I have a problem with Guy. For the wonderful person he is, he continues to announce private stories regarding his girlfriend to all of us. Here are a couple, I will continue to add from now on.
1) Girlfriend was so cute, instead of turning off the alarm the other morning, she cupped her hands over his ear.
2) Girlfriend was awesome last night. While Guy was in the shower she said "I don't know if I need to puke or shit." Girlfriend proceeded to bend over toilet, but changed her mind and ended up taking a huge shit. "Isn't that awesome!?" Guy exclaimed.
3) Today's...Girlfriend had a huge zit above her upper lip last night, between her nose, right where it hurts. But today when she woke up it looked (in Guy's opinion) even worse this morning. So he popped it for her, but it turns out her's wasn't ready to get pushed out.
Stay tuned! The adorable stories of Girlfriend keep getting better.
1) Girlfriend was so cute, instead of turning off the alarm the other morning, she cupped her hands over his ear.
2) Girlfriend was awesome last night. While Guy was in the shower she said "I don't know if I need to puke or shit." Girlfriend proceeded to bend over toilet, but changed her mind and ended up taking a huge shit. "Isn't that awesome!?" Guy exclaimed.
3) Today's...Girlfriend had a huge zit above her upper lip last night, between her nose, right where it hurts. But today when she woke up it looked (in Guy's opinion) even worse this morning. So he popped it for her, but it turns out her's wasn't ready to get pushed out.
Stay tuned! The adorable stories of Girlfriend keep getting better.
Tuesday, June 19
Sweat and Construction Workers
I went out to get Marcus some DVD-R (“not DVD+R!”) at Best Buy. I would give him a more colorful nick name but in my personal opinion, he’s not that interesting. He told me they're the wrong ones. He had said to buy ones I could write on. easy enough. oh wait - he actually meant PRINT on them, from a computer. So now I get to walk outside again and have construction guys, perched on sidewalks, whistle at me again while the second half of their turkey subs go spewing out of their mouths. Which I then must doge. The highlight being, of course, that it's 90 f today.
Now I'm sitting with G, our tech guy, who is kicking butt on this web based voicemail server my boss (yet to be knick named) asked me to work on. He's doing a great job, I'm kind of the moral support.
Now I'm sitting with G, our tech guy, who is kicking butt on this web based voicemail server my boss (yet to be knick named) asked me to work on. He's doing a great job, I'm kind of the moral support.
My New Years Resolutions
I started a blog on January 1, 2007. It obviously didn't work out because I've only started writing again this past week. Here were my thoughts on that date:
My New Year Resolutions...
1. Stop stealing family objects back to my flat (return iron, can opener[s], and mom's cute pillows).
2. Be patient with technology (don't throw my phone)
3. Don't drink as much (save cab $)
4. Gym. (Go to it, don't just look at the card in my wallet, proud that i joined)
5. Eat better (say good bye to Dublin Mudslide)
6. Study harder (there's nothing funny about this one)
7. Find direction in life (figure out if jobs exist for me upon graduation).
My New Year Resolutions...
1. Stop stealing family objects back to my flat (return iron, can opener[s], and mom's cute pillows).
2. Be patient with technology (don't throw my phone)
3. Don't drink as much (save cab $)
4. Gym. (Go to it, don't just look at the card in my wallet, proud that i joined)
5. Eat better (say good bye to Dublin Mudslide)
6. Study harder (there's nothing funny about this one)
7. Find direction in life (figure out if jobs exist for me upon graduation).
My fresh attempt to blog!
I just finished reading the New Yorker's summer fiction issue and realized how much I miss writing. Plus, I need a place to comment on people at work.
So who am I? A smart, funny, undergrad with a summer internship in New York, but for the summer has been forced to move home to NJ. Which is a beautiful state if I may say so myself, and no, I don't know what exit I am off the park way and I don't live near a dump.
Let's set up the scene: I'm interning at a production studio in Chelsea. It has a beautiful big room (huge) where we're building a studio (actually, the hired photographer and his assistant/girlfriend are but they're like honorary company team members). Morning sun shines through floor to ceiling windows with yellow wood floors, a couple fluffy couches from some dead lady's apartment decorate the window/kitchen area. I imagine most of Soho's upper floors looked like this, real "lofty style" before they became $8 million apartments. There are a couple of offices on the other side of the floor where we actually get work done, carpeted floor and gray walls. The walls on this side don't reach the ceiling, I think it has something to do with fire code laws, but lets say it adds to the charm.
I have a Staples run to go do (run out of burnable dvds, earlier it was DR for paper towels).
So who am I? A smart, funny, undergrad with a summer internship in New York, but for the summer has been forced to move home to NJ. Which is a beautiful state if I may say so myself, and no, I don't know what exit I am off the park way and I don't live near a dump.
Let's set up the scene: I'm interning at a production studio in Chelsea. It has a beautiful big room (huge) where we're building a studio (actually, the hired photographer and his assistant/girlfriend are but they're like honorary company team members). Morning sun shines through floor to ceiling windows with yellow wood floors, a couple fluffy couches from some dead lady's apartment decorate the window/kitchen area. I imagine most of Soho's upper floors looked like this, real "lofty style" before they became $8 million apartments. There are a couple of offices on the other side of the floor where we actually get work done, carpeted floor and gray walls. The walls on this side don't reach the ceiling, I think it has something to do with fire code laws, but lets say it adds to the charm.
I have a Staples run to go do (run out of burnable dvds, earlier it was DR for paper towels).
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