HE SAID: Case of the Mondays?

January 31, 2011

If I had the balls to link an email I just got on match.com this morning, Id share it with you, because it is hilariously creepy, but it feels wrong. So deal with these instead:

Why I love Kevin Garnett, and non Celtics fans hate him:

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Real life Sorting Hat via collegehumor, as opposed to that BS that is Harry Potter. Wait a minute, I love Harry Potter…yet I digress.

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And finally, in case anyone needed a reminder of who to root for in the super bowl, here is a recap of Big Ben’s sexual assault (one of them anyway).


SHE SAID: Case of the Mondays?

January 31, 2011

Such a great theory and video.  Also, I want to go here.

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Lady Gaga can now add children’s book author to her long list of accomplishments.

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I know Jeremy loves Zooey, I’m including this for him.

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A new Slate article: By helping other people look happy, Facebook is making us sad. By showcasing the most witty, joyful, bullet-pointed versions of people’s lives, and inviting constant comparisons in which we tend to see ourselves as the losers, Facebook appears to exploit an Achilles’ heel of human nature. And women—an especially unhappy bunch of late—may be especially vulnerable to keeping up with what they imagine is the happiness of the Joneses.

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This is cool.



HE SAID: Winter

January 25, 2011

FYI, the following is being written from the comforts of my own home…where I’m sitting under a blanket, wearing long johns, sweats and a flannel shirt.  The sun has just set outside, it is approximately -4 degrees before the windchill, and we are expecting another major snowstorm later this week.  But be aware, I am not complaining, I am merely writing down factual statements.  Why am I not complaining? You may ask…Because it is the middle of winter in effing Vermont, and unless I am being forced to live here against my will, I have no right to complain. Ok, maybe not being forced against my will, but you get my point.

And yes, I get it, the last couple of days have been pretty darn brutal, even close to record breaking, in fact. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a fan of lows of negative -27 with a windchill of -40, but when I woke up this morning praying my pipes didn’t freeze and my car would start (thank you, C.G. Johnson – alleged inventor of the garage door), I realized two very important things: 1. I have absolutely, no control over the weather and 2. I can move, really quite easily. With regards to #1, spare me your tree-hugging, hippie liberal BS about my effect on the environment.  Yes, I realize that there are many things I could do better to control my effect on the environment, just don’t mention global warming to me when my private parts have ascended back into my stomach.  And as for #2, I just don’t want to.  I’d rather put up with X amount of days of absolute crap weather, because I love it here.

So the title of this post could have been way better, but at its crux, this post is about winter…and all the assholes who complain non-stop about it.  It’s times like this that I hate things like twitter and facebook (wait, that’s not true, clearly I am obsessed, but still), with friends constantly reminding me about how miserable it is outside. Trust me, I am aware of it.

Or maybe I’m still bitter about the Patriots losing to the Jets, and I’m simply taking it all out on you. Not quite all, there is some of my blood on a hand-dryer in one of the Newark International Airport bathrooms thanks to that shitshow. Yet, I digress.

It’s good to be back.


SHE SAID: Winter

January 25, 2011

Being in Vermont in the winter is usually not that bad. We don’t get the wind whipping through the buildings off the water like Chicago.  We aren’t isolated for weeks whenever there is a large snowfall (although, one time, about 4 years ago there was a crazy storm and people were skiing to the grocery store or to try and locate a snow plow).  And despite cold temps we are still able to get out and enjoy all the awesomeness right outside the front door even if it means putting on two pairs of long underwear, fleece, wool, down and gore-tex.  I do have an issue with the fact that on the few occasions when the sun is shining and there isn’t a cloud in the sky it always, always coincides with a high of -20, but there’s not really anything I can do about that other than write a strongly worded blog post.  Another time.

Jeremy and I didn’t coordinate before writing, but I’m wearing almost the same thing.  The only difference is my cashmere instead of his flannel.  More expensive, but it’s also softer, and warmer and I don’t feel like I’m making a tribute to the mid-nineties when I’m wearing it.

In that light, I would like to give recognition to some of my other cold weather staples.

My microwave booties.  I have no idea who makes you, and no idea how you came into my life, but when we ran out of oil last month and it was 45 degrees inside the house, I was singing your praises.

The Champion sweatpants that I have claimed as mine.  You know the old ones that are at least ten years old and make you look about 30 pounds heavier.  I live in those in the winter once I’ve come home from work.

Heated seats in my car.  I was all ready to buy a car last summer until my mother pointed out that it lacked heated seats.  Needless to say, I walked on that one.  I chalk up my stupidity on that one to the fact that it was summer and I wasn’t in winter mode, but it’s still a rookie move.  I would like to make heated steering wheels standard on any car with heated seats.  It can’t be that hard to throw a wire in the steering wheel.

Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, hot toddies.  There is nothing like holding on to a hot cup of something with both hands when you’re cold.  Preferably while you’re donning some sweet microwave booties and ringing for the butler to bring you more bon bons.

The hot dog roll.  Take a blanket and spread it out on the floor.  Position yourself on one end of the blanket stomach up so it comes up to your armpits (you can do it under your neck, but I prefer being able to use my arms).  Commence rolling.

Hot showers.  I know it’s bad.  I know water consumption should be limited.  But when I’m freezing, I love a hot shower.  Scaldingly hot.  I like to think I make it up to the planet by being super conscientious in other environmentally friendly areas…

Wool socks.  I use ones knit by my grandmother.  You’re probably thinking at this point, wow, she’s hot.  And it’s true.  Between the booties, the sweats and the huge blanket I’m quite a vision in the evenings.

And last, but certainly not least: the man sharing my bed.  Oh how I love your patience with the icicles that are my toes.


SHE SAID: Case of the Mondays

January 24, 2011

Damn, Nike.  Well done.

Also really unrelated in a related kind of way … Adidas, I’d like to have a talk with whomever is in charge of designing your Australian Open 2011 line.  It’s horrendous.

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I have been on a movie streak of late and have managed to fit in True Grit, The Fighter and The King’s Speech.  Next up, Rubber.

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Two crazy people go a whole month without drinking and check in here. Hesaid just informed me that he dries out for a week each month.  I do no such thing.

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We’ve mentioned and celebrated a lot of eighties stars over the course of our blogging.  Here’s a link to The Babysitter’s Club: where are they now, in case you’ve been wondering what the crew has been up to for the past 20 years.

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And to finish, I leave you with a little diddy passed on by my friend, Maggie.

I love and hate so many things about this video.  But I’m also interested to know where the drummer, guitarist and string player are.


SHE SAID: Case of the Mondays?

January 9, 2011

SHE SAID: Case of the Mondays?

January 3, 2011

Puma’s “After Hours Athlete” ad is pretty great.  In case you haven’t seen it …

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Speaking of athletes, I love the new soundtrack someone put to this little gem.

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Top ten Photoshop disasters of 2010.  In case you missed them before we start chronicling 2011’s.

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As of 2012, meat and poultry will be getting more detailed nutrition information. Sounds great, right?  Not so fast.  They are only including caloric and fat information, nothing about where the meat comes from, what kind of conditions the animal was born/raised/butchered in or what the animal ingested.  We still have such a long way to go and I still have to go out of my way to find meat that I’m not afraid to eat.

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The Ex-Blocker.  How many of us could have used this at one point in time?  I also have a few friends I’d like to pass the link on to.