Video of the Day

On my super secret source for new funny videos, I came across this. As opposed to this as I am as a journalist (or at least a journalism major in college), I have to say this cracked us up at work.

A Massacre, In My Opinion

I LOVE Mary Poppins. Not just "loved as a child", but "love to this day". But I do have to say, this was pretty funny.

Political Commercials

Well, if this isn't the be-all, end-all of political satires!



Of course, having a firm grasp on what is rising on these-here internets, I'm proud to say I am the bearer of this viral video to many of my Broadway-loving friends.

Oh, it's wonderful. At the end, I didn't know if I was laughing really hard, or if I was about to cry (the harmonies get me all goose bumpy in Les Mis).

Point of this entry: LOVE IT!

Fashion?

I don't pretend to follow trends.

When I see a new trend, I find flaws with it (maybe because I don't have the money or the right body to pull it off). But my husband and I are HUGE fans of "Project Runway". It's the only show we actually set aside time to watch. Soon, the season finale leaks will be hitting the Internet. While researching what's going on at Fashion Week, I ended up spotting this, ahem, movement (above left).

It could just be me, but aren't designs shown during fashion week supposed to be looked at as avant-garde, but easily tamed for the commercial audience? I don't see how they'll make this work...

And, it reminded me of the aardvark jackets (above right), lovingly given at Christmas time in the Myer household in "Better Off Dead". "Everyone's going to have one!"

Video Hit List

I've been rather slow with this blog this week. One of those too many ideas, not enough time-type weeks, I guess. But here are some of my favorite video finds. (Yes, it was a slow week at work.)

Now, I'm not a huge fan of those who love the silly cat videos. Sure, I find cats amusing. I think they are all neurotic, just like everyone else. But this started going around at work and I did have a good chuckle watching it.


If you like "Family Guy", you'll like this. Even if you don't like "Family Guy", but you've played Nintendo in your day (Ha-Ha! We have an old school NES and our old games at our house now! Just wanted to brag.):


It's funny 'cause it's true. I know, it's terrible to say, but maybe that's why someone made this "PSA".


A fantastic video for any girl.


And, what's a good video with a strong moral message without a parody of it?


And, speaking of evolution, I leave you with this. It was only a matter of time before a perfectly spliced up viral video became spliced into another:


No republicans were harmed in the making of this blog.

Taking A Blonde Seriously

Note: Bottle-blondes, this does not apply to you.

There's no easy way to say this. It's a fact that's becoming more and more prevalent that blondes are completely underestimated. No, it's not paranoia; it's not poor-me syndrome; and it's not just a slight case of the "ditsies". It's a perpetual cycle of acting dumb so as not to come off different than people expect, followed by (or beginning with) someone meeting a blonde and having the preconceived expectation of hearing stupidity spewing out of said blonde's mouth.

Maybe it's 25 years of cynicism catching up to me. Maybe it's seeing girls dye their hair blond, thinking it'll be more appealing, then wondering why the guys they meet don't call back. Maybe it's the fact that no matter how intelligent of a conversation I can have with someone, they'll still say at the end of it "So, remember that time you didn't realize what a 'cizock' meant?" (And, for the record, as soon as I said it out loud, I realized the answer...)

So, I've started changing my mannerisms. I started dressing more "boring brunette" (yeah, stereotypes feel shitty, don't they?), and I stopped hiding my intelligence just to make others feel more comfortable around me (read: superior). Here are some tips I've begun to use:

1. Read more.

Pick up works you don't normally read. Find authors who write intelligently -- the more you get used to reading their work, the more comfortable you feel emulating their style of speech. If you don't know a word, look it up (and find its pronunciation!), then store it in your mind for future use; don't just use it to show off, either.

2. Compliment.

People expect blondes to be self-centered and shallow. Make sure if you like someone's shirt or their new haircut, or even something little like how they drive, make sure you say it out loud. Don't over-analyze the reaction to the compliment, either: "So, are you saying I don't wear nice earrings every day?" is not something you need to worry yourself with. Once people get used to your random compliments, they'll take them more seriously.

3. Stop. Playing. Dumb.

Yes, I'm still learning this lesson. Once you get used to feeling like you need to "dumb it down" to be liked, people get to know the real you. And, whether they like you shouldn't bother you. If you feel uncomfortable, train yourself to be empowered when the look of "what did she just say?" comes across their face, let it go. Again, the more you prove your intellectual worth, the sooner it'll become accepted. (I know, I know, you shouldn't have to prove your intellectual worth to anyone. I understand. However, those who perpetuate the dumb blonde stereotype are the ones who are making it worse for you, not the unknowing non-blonds who are surprised at your behavior.)

4. Lower your voice.

This is one of the weirdest pieces of advice I can give. This goes along with suggestion No. 3, though. The higher the register one's voice is, the easier it is to lose the voice in the crowd. Think about Marilyn Monroe. When you heard her high, squeaky voice singing or her kittenish whisper when she talked, did you roll your eyes? Did you admire how men flocked to her? (Did you secretly cling to the size 16 myth? Yes, myth.) Well, as much as I hate to inform you, unless you're part of a very, very small, almost minuscule, percentage of women who actually are physically programmed to have that voice, knock it off. If you find yourself constricting your throat, even a little, when you talk, it's not your real voice. To find something in your range, take a deep breath, fill your diaphragm, then sigh out loud. Believe it or not, that's more your natural register for speaking. And if you sing at all, you may be shocked to learn you'll have to learn how to harmonize in your lower register because those "blondes" on Broadway who squeak out their pop numbers are singing incorrectly. Nodes-alert! (Side note: altos are taken more seriously than sopranos anyway. Ask any director who has heard a squeaky "On My Own" at every audition sung by someone who would have gotten a better part had they sung a full-powered "When You're Good to Mama".)

5. Quit playing with your hair.

Do it in the morning. Move it out of your eyes. Fluff it in the bathroom. But stop twirling it. Stop adjusting it strand-by-strand at your desk. Stop picturing yourself in Finesse commercials whenever you take it out of a ponytail at the bar -- you know what I'm talking about.

6. Watch your man.

Don't get paranoid, but those who have the fashion sense to realize they don't look good as a blonde feel threatened by those who do. Their inferiority complex goes into overdrive and they think they'll feel better if they can outdo a blonde. If your man is the right man, you shouldn't feel threatened at all. But these brunettes need to be put in their place sometimes. Which leads me to...

7. Never allow someone else to make you feel bad without your permission.

Change the topic, then quietly pull the aggressor aside in private and let them know how you feel. If others begin to join in, take a deep breath and tell yourself they're only trying to make themselves more comfortable. A simple "it's funny how something as simple as hair color can bring so much joy to others" may suffice. But, if the topic doesn't change, make your point known. Don't just go along with it because the conversation is going well. That only means there's nothing better to talk about and your friends are not interesting or intellectual enough for you to be wasting your time with. If the situation progresses, get up and leave. You don't need to give an explanation if you've already made your point known.

8. Don't follow the crowd.

You think wine is more satisfying than beer? Order it, even if everyone else is drinking Coors Lite on tap. You're in the mood for salad, rather than wings and potato skins? Order it, even if you're perpetuating the stereotype of the anorexic blonde. (Sorry, I've never been thin enough to be put into that stereotype, so I don't really have advice for those girls.) You would rather listen to oldies than the same 10 songs played on WTUL over and over again? Do it, stating your opinion of those wouldn't-know-good-music-if-it-was-even-still-played-on-MTV stations. Make sure your opinions are known. Make sure you have your own opinions. Make sure you have your own reasons for basing your opinions on. And, most importantly, make sure you can back it up with fact, if needed. And, just as a general rule, if anyone is drinking, these are the topics never to discuss, even if you think everyone's in agreement with you: POLITICS, RELIGION or FAMILY. Trust me on this one. Bartenders are trained to smile and nod just for this reason. Keep the peace.

9. Bring out the blonde only when necessary.

It's true that it's a blessing and curse. There are crucial moments when bringing out the stereotype may be necessary to keep the peace, settle an argument, calm the drama, or lighten the mood. It's a form of comic relief, but used sparingly is the only way to use it. I asked my dad once how to be funny. He told me "timing is everything" and said when the time is right, I would know. He may have been watching Star Wars at the moment, now that I think about it, and he was trying to have a Yoda moment.

10. Always remember, you get what you put out.

The Golden Rule applies...and it's not just a clever pun to tie in with the hair color. (Actually, the Golden Rule is wash your hair immediately after swimming in a chlorinated swimming pool so it doesn't turn green, har har har.) You may feel insecure about trying to prove your self-worth, but putting someone else down is not the way to make yourself look better; in fact, it only gives people another reason to dislike you. And this time, they have a good reason if you resort to petty tactics.

Oh, and one more thing, because I know it confused you (don't feel bad, unless you're an editor and/or an irritable blonde, you may not know):
BLONDE is the noun for a female with blond hair.
BLOND is a noun for a male with blond hair AND used as an adjective.

Blonds can be used to mean plural men and women with blond hair.
Example: I am a blonde. He is a blond. My hair is blond.

Usinge ane "E" incorrectlye doesn'te makee youe blonde, ite juste makese youe stupide.

Rich Freida is a moron and has never experienced what calling products Brilliant Brunette, Radiant Redhead and then Sheer Blonde does to someone who's just heard her 100th dumb blonde joke of the evening. How the hell is "sheer" supposed to be a positive adjective to describe a person?

Blooper

Found this at work. It's now making the rounds:

Screw This Diet!

I've officially thrown my hands up to the diet I was on for three weeks. Sure, I lost the honeymoon-weight...and then stopped. The scale won't budge. It moves, but stays within the same pound range, as far as ounces go. I'm going to finish the other three shakes I have, but not two a day anymore, mixed with little meals of fruits I'm sick of now. And screw that half-a-sandwich thing at lunch with a shake. That always pissed me off. It is NOT satisfying. I like my weird eating habits. Some days, I'm good and don't eat that much. Other days, I like enjoying a big lunch or a big breakfast here and there.

That just reminded me about a dream I had last night involving ordering French Toast and being so happy that I didn't even realize I had finished eating it. See, once I start dreaming about food, it means a diet is not working. That's my theory.

That said, I'll just add this to the list of my attempted-and-failed diets.

TOP TEN ATTEMPTED-AND-FAILED DIETS

10. Atkins/Low Carb
Basics: Keep away from anything with carbs, including fruits, apparently. Basically, everything you like, you can't have. I never bought the books or officially went on it, I tried to cut back for a while.
Why it didn't work: I love carbs. I LOVE bagels. Chicken is the only protein I feel comfortable cooking, it wasn't for me. My proteins are usually involved in some way with carbs. Hot dogs and hamburgers don't taste good unless they're on a bun! I even paid $30 for an eBook with the same basic diet. I was promised same-day e-mail responses from the author and a full refund if I wasn't satisfied. When I e-mailed a question, there was no e-mail the same day...or the next...or the next. I didn't even feel like asking for a refund because who knew how long that would take. They sure billed my credit card the same day, though. And no alcohol? Screw that.

9. Grapefruit Diet
Basics: A strict diet that includes some form of grapefruit with every meal.
Why it didn't work: I don't like grapefruits. Simple as that. I tried for one day to convince myself they weren't that bad. I lied to myself and I had acid reflux that night. I couldn't wait to wake up and have a bagel to calm my stomach.

8. The Water Diet
Basics: Water, water, water. Drink so much water you'll feel fuller, faster.
Why it didn't work: Peeing, peeing, peeing. Carrying the water around was a pain. I don't like to force anything into my mouth I don't want and I'm not a very thirsty person, to be honest. I know you need a ton of water, but my body never wants it, other than in the middle of the night and I drink a good 10 ounces then. Aside from that, I get my water in the form of diet soda or other foods. And I never felt full of water. I would want to pee so I could make room for actual food.

7. Birmingham Diet
Basics: It's a bunch of food I'm not crazy about for three days. Followed by four days of regular eating, whatever that means. Then repeated. Given to me by the guy at the counter at Planet Fitness in Stamford.
Why it didn't work: Not a very practical diet for someone who has to eat in public. A piece of toast and a hard boiled egg for lunch? The lunch counter guy thought I was nuts when I asked for this. Never returned to Planet Fitness in Stamford after that.

6. Some Diet Involving Vitamins
Basics: Spent $30 on a soft-cover book to find out I needed to supplement my system with $100-worth of GNC pills with different characteristics in them. Took pills twice a day. Had to sort these pills daily to keep myself organized. Fish oil, flax seed, Vitamins B-12, G-Omega8, acid free pH level-ginseng root...AND 30 oz. of protein with every meal.
Why it didn't work: You can only guess. Sure, the diet was highly recommended by a friend from California. And not the LA part either where anorexia and bulimia still top the list; he was from closer to the San Fransisco area. That should have tipped me off...

5. Bulimia
Basics: Stick fingers down your throat, tickle a little spot, and, before you know it, you're looking at what you just ate in the toilet.
Why it didn't work: Oh, gross. Not to mention the crying that comes with it, which made my make-up run and make my face look awful. Plus, it was never convenient to do out in public. The dumbest three hours of my life, basically.

4. Anorexia
Basics: Deny yourself any food. Feel guilty for even smelling something delicious.
Why it didn't work: Unless Ephedra induced, it's impossible. Besides, I never thought I could officially say I was anorexic: Anorexics have ribs showing; they cut and enjoy one raisin, followed by five hours of feeling guilty. I don't think anorexics ever looked longingly at someone enjoying a bagel and wished they would accidentally drop it in their mouths and wire their jaws shut so they would have to eat it.

3. The No-Diet Diet
Basics: Some little birdy told me you can eat whatever you want in moderation.
Why it didn't work: I was probably just coming off of one of the many other diets and loved the idea of this. So, I ate half a candy-bar, a whole wheat bagel with light cream cheese, one of those mini-cans of soda, a bag of 100-calorie fudge stripe cookies, and said "no" to the apple. See! Moderation! Sure, that was one meal...it was my reward meal for stopping a diet and going back on one! I can't trust myself. Taunts of pre-"Are you going to lose that weight?" mother telling me to finish what's on my plate or no dessert.

2. The White Wine Diet
Basics: Two bottles of wine in two days. The only food involved was eggs and steak. I read about it in "Sex and the Single Girl" and, true to Helen Gurley Brown's word, I lost six pounds in two days.
Why it didn't work: It did! I followed it! However, I can't drink white wine to this day. And I woke up the second day craving cereal for some reason. I wanted a big bowl of cereal, I didn't care what kind. I slowly put the six back on afterwards when I bought sugary cereal and ate it everyday for two weeks, figuring I would get around to going back on the wine diet. It's been three years since then and I still haven't gone back on it.

1. Slim-Fast
Basics: It used to be "A shake for breakfast, a shake for lunch and a sensible dinner." Now it's Shake, wait two hours, fruit, wait two hours, shake and 200 calories for lunch (half a sandwich), more fruit and Slim-Fast bar for a snack, 500-700 calorie dinner, Slim-Fast bar for a snack.
Why it didn't work: It worked...for about 10 pounds. Then I plateaued for way too long. I finally got sick of those damn shakes. And, it doesn't help that I get a little lactose intolerant if I have too much dairy. And two shakes a day were starting to take their toll.

Conclusion: F&$% diets!

Crazy Girl on a Train

Sent around at work yesterday as a way to beat the heat with laughter. Oh, this girl was nuts!

Another Thing I Should Have Patented!

Once again, a weird thing I've done in life has come to be a reality...and is going to make money.

I had that idea in college when I had 65 cents to last me the day and I found the joys of an empty bag of Sour Patch Kids. After I had finished the delicious candies, I wasn't satisfied, so I held the bag up to my noise and inhaled, while making he chewing motions. Somehow, it worked. Now Weight Watchers is going to capitalize on it, turning sticker freaks into anorexics.

Son of a bitch!

I Got Soap in My Head

After trying to regain the time I felt I lost yesterday by sleeping late and becoming overly-lethargic because of the broken A/C at work, I woke up an extra 15 minutes early today. I flawlessly applied my make-up, going a little darker than I normally would wear to work; I picked out an outfit I know looks fine, although being that I'm wearing it all day, I think it's too busy for me; and I made sure I washed, dried and styled my hair to perfection. With the last curl and spritz I was about to do, I realized what I had become, or, more accurately, what I was striving for: I was starting to resemble a soap opera character.

I was turning into someone with an androgynous name like Dixyn or Varmel, who took all day to shop for an outlet cover for their homes, without going to work at all and having tons of money from my several dead/estranged/gender-confused husbands. I probably also had a child when I was 19, who, through the magic of soap-time, is now 15 and possibly pregnant with twins from two different fathers.

Then I started wondering if I would be a good girl or villain. I was hoping for the latter, as they have more fun, more sex, more money, and don't have to bother themselves with trying to please everyone. But, at the same time, I know too many people who fit into the category of "villain" in what would be my soap-opera-life. Maybe I would be an undetermined character.

Oh, who was I kidding. I am the fat soap star, who gets the network praised on hiring "not another size 4" for a role. I'd probably get nominated for best supporting actress at the daytime Emmys for being the "big girl in a small role". Har har har, oh the speechwriters would pat themselves on the back for that one.

Oh god, I remembered the more I thought about the situation. I was channelling my inner WASP, as they tend to strive to have the lifestyles soap characters do. My aunt actually got her "interior design knowledge" from soap operas.

What if I wasn't even on a good soap? What if I was on one of the poorly-slotted little-known name soaps that have only been around for a few years? Something with a name like "Glistening Virtues" or "Soaring Lillies". What if I were forced to wear the same outfit for four days straight, while still shopping for that one outlet cover to match my French drapes and coat of armor in my foyer? What if I had a foyer?!

No, no, no. This has gotten out of hand. I'm just not used to being this prepared every morning. I'm just getting back into the habit I threw away over my long weekend. People really do this, right? Emily P. vs. Emily A. isn't unrealistic, right? I did forget to put perfume on this morning; I'm not perfect. I am flawed today. Not to mention the scale not moving for about a week, whether I'm on my diet or not. Soap stars lose weight quickly; in soap opera time, I would have lost 30 pounds in 10 days, considering every day lasts about five in real time. And weekends wouldn't count. And my weight-loss efforts would be futile, since I would be kidnapped at some point and forced to gain the weight back so people would be able to tell the difference between me and my evil twin.

I wonder if my Emily P./Emily A. scenario is sort of like my evil twin storyline. Emily P. wasn't necessarily evil. She had her moments, but then again so will Emily A., I'm sure of. And maybe real-me wouldn't need soap opera husbands because my husband displays too many different personalities depending on the day. And, although I've been re-applying my shiny lip gloss all day, I know I won't make a habit of it. And my small-talks with people won't come back as a plot revelation later in the week; it'll just stay small-talk. And my moments alone in the house will be some of my most enjoyable times, not some fancy fund-raiser with all the big names in town when I'm being honored for being writer of the year for a book I've clearly been doing during my offtime raising my estranged child, spending money decorating my chateau, or having coffee conversations about my friends' ex-husbands, possible fathers of their children, coniving sisters or vindictive mothers-in-law.

Oh, And...

Since I can't listen to it right now, at least you can.



(See previous post.)

A Night of Relaxation

Oh, the joy of marriage. The joy of having someone to come home to. Someone with the same intellect. The same dreams. The same motivation (or lack thereof some days). The love that will always be there whenever anything comes along. But they never mentioned the little things that truly show loving all of a person:

The different tastes in music.

The different definitions of a "night in".

The different tell-tale signs of annoyance, anger, joy, etc.

The different little things that drive each other up the wall.

The sheer fact that I'm typing is driving him up the wall, I know it. So, the question is, do I type softer because I can see his hand raising to his forehead, pretending that I am slowly draining his work-ability with every stroke of the keyboard? Or do I continue, pretending to be oblivious that the spacebar has about twice the volume of the regular keys. Basically, the fact that he doesn't want to do his work right now is being channeled into being angry about the keystrokes. And I love him. I really do. I'm not doing something for work, so obviously, the lesson plans he's working on should be my main priority and I should be sitting on the couch in the other room merely reading my book I just got.

I tried to put on my new jazz CD, my one impulse buy during my $200 shopping spree at Wal-Mart the other day. With that, he turned and asked "what's that?" "It's jazz, you dumbass." No, I didn't say it outloud; I said the obligatory, "I'm sorry, does it bother you?" "Yes." And with that, he turned his back to me. Oh, because watching "Family Guy" for two hours and then saying "Whatever, I'm not doing this tonight, I'll get up early to do it" really gets in the way even more than "Moonlight Serenade".

But I do praise his motivation right now to learn grammar, albeit from an author who is 100 years old and doesn't adhere to what is the most recently accepted as correct. Whatever. Let him read a book by some pretentious grammar Nazi who was probably given a book deal to shut her up for a few weeks so she wouldn't correct everybody she came in contact with.

He just turned around to settle an argument we had weeks ago.

"By the way, [one of his favorite phrases to let me know something he just learned] it is correct to use both Joneses AND Jones' when talking plural and possessive."

I just rolled my eyes and said, "Don't get me started on what I already think of that author."

With that he turned around, confident he had some backup to his claim weeks ago.

Five minutes later, "Oh, hell no! She used an apostrophe in 1960s! I should just throw this book out the window."

"Is she talking possessively about the year 1960?"

(Scurrying to find the page again in the strewn book) "'the 1960's' One-nine-six-zero-apostrophe-'s'. No, she's an idiot."

"Someone gave her a book deal with shut her pretentious, over-correcting mouth for a few weeks," I said, proud to have what I had just written in front of me so I could get out that gem.

"Bet it didn't help."

"Probably not."

At least my typing doesn't annoy him anymore. And I understand the frustration he feels as an English teacher. Grammar and punctuation doesn't just come to people overnight; you either have a gift for it or you have to learn it step-by-step. And it's a long tedious process, for both the teacher and the student. I'm more concerned with letting him know, in teaching exclamation points, that two or more is ridiculous. Hopefully, they won't fall into the MySpace/Facebook trap of cramming their posts with excessive exclamation points.

Tools, meet John Lennon

No, I know you think you know him or what-not. You probably fill your MySpace and Facebook profiles with his quote: "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," and you sit around Starbucks Coffee Houses talking about his "greatness". Well, before you post the quote anymore, at least listen to the song it came from -- yes, it was a song. He didn't just come out of a post-drug induced haze and say this wonderful quote; it was from a song.

Labor Day, followed by anti-Labor Day

Yesterday we had our first big get-together at our house. We threw a last-minute Labor Day picnic. And it was fabulous. Unfortunately, I actually got a slight buzz from some sugary-type drinks.

This morning, I had forgotten to turn my alarm clock on. I woke up a little on the weird side: the sugar rush had worn off, I slept an hour-and-a-half later than I normally do, and because I forgot to grab my work shoes, I had to turn around and I was late for work. My whole day was off. I tried to stick to my diet, but once we found out the A/C was broken in our office, I was miserably hot and all I wanted was a sandwich, some salt & vinegar ships and a nice, cold soda. My entire day was completely anti-Emily A. and reminiscent of Emily P. But sometimes that's a nice thing.