Vote For Change with Ron Livingston

Stuff like this makes me adore Ron Livingston that much more.

Thanks for the heads-up, Jamie Leigh!

A through Zed

Since I managed to get the meeting from hell scheduled (sidebar: You know you're spending entirely too much time at the office when you know your boss' cell phone number better than your fiance's), I'm taking a time-out to read about tonight's debate, talk to McGillis about politics, the polarization of the country, religion and Lexington Steele and waste my time with stuff like this:

A. Attached or single?
Attached. We drive to work together and spend pretty much all of our time with one another. You'd think this would be boring, but after spending a year living 1000 miles apart -- it's actually pretty fabulous.

B. Best friend?
I have many -- Dan (obviously), The Best Friend (he didn't just get the name out of nowhere), Sobia (The Transatlantic Best Friend), Dana and my sister.

C. Cake or pie?
Pie -- Cherry with a marzipan-and-almond crumb topping served warm with vanilla bean ice cream and a cup of good, strong coffee. Oh sweet Lord, I am so hungry....

D. Day of choice?
Saturday -- I hit the library (confessions of a nerd: I actually made a librarian chortle at my nerdiness when I was last at the library. I found a Toure's Never Drank The Kool-Aid, gasped loudly and leapt upon it with entirely too much eagerness. A librarian caught this display of dorkery and cracked up), I wear comfy clothes and I catch up on DVR'd TV. I get to do things I want to do as opposed to things I have to do.

E. Essential item?
At work -- it's Google. Reader + my personalized homepage makes my life so much happier and easier. At home -- my flat-iron. Having straight hair makes me more psychologically stable. Yes, I am aware of the fact that I'm both superficial and insane.

F. Favourite colour?
Pink

G. Gummy bears or worms?
Both but neither compare to the black Jelly Babies. Unlike the black jelly beans you find here in the States, black Jelly Babies are not an unholy vortex of fail.

H. Hometown?
Southall, England - famed for Bend It Like Beckham, a vast and cacaphonous population of South Asian immigrants and essentially, being a complete and utter shithole. Also, West Palm Beach, Florida. Also known as the Five-Six-Ace in the Gunshine State.

I. Indulgence?
Terrible food -- frozen pizza, jalapeno-flavored Kettle chips (I had both last night! I don't know who Tony is, but he makes a terrible pizza), peanut-butter filled pretzels, gummi cola bottles. I'm a fat girl in a small girl's body.

J. January or July?
July -- the 4th, the Best Friend's birthday, my anniversary. Good times all around.

K. Kids?
Let's wait five years before we start on that, shall we? Although, Dan and I have started talking about potential names. We don't agree on a single one.

L. Life isn’t complete without?
Great people, even better music, fruity margaritas, cute shoes, Lost, Ron Livingston, used bookstores and good food.

M. Marriage date?
July 2010...I hope. I'm having that "Down Payment for a house vs. wedding" debate right now and the house seems to be winning.

N. Number of brothers & sisters?
Just the one. She's awesome, passionate, funny, smart and hopefully, will be visiting me this winter!


O. Oranges or apples?
Apples -- really tart Granny Smith ones that make your mouth pucker.


P. Phobias?
I hate clowns. Even more creepy are the guys who wear clown make-up underneath their masks. Who does that?! I mean, seriously?!

Q. Quotes?
One of my favorites from NewsRadio -- a thoroughly underrated show:

[Reading cards from the complaint box]
Dave: "You suck." "You suck." "Howard Stern rules." "If you can read this you are a dork." "Coupon for one free kiss from Joe if you are a girl." "We need more complaint cards." "Coupon for one free kiss from Joe if you are a guy."
Joe: Hey.
Dave: [pulling out a fortune cookie slip] "You will go on a journey, happy long time." "Matthew is a moron." "No I'm not." "Yes you are." "No I'm not infinity." "Yes you are infinity plus one." And this one, "I have doobie in my funk," which I assume is some sort of reference to the Parliament Funkadelic song, "Chocolate City." Uh, "You got peanut butter in my chocolate. You got chocolate in my peanut butter. Together they taste like crap." "Matthew has been staring at me all day... and I love it." I don't think I get this one, it says, "I try to be good hard-worker-man, but refrigemater so messy, so so messy."
Lisa: I think that one's probably from Milos, the janitor.
Dave: Oh. Refrigem... oh, then that one's legitimate.
[continues reading the complaint cards]
Dave: Uh, "Who's the black private dick who's the sex machine with all the chicks."
Bill, Beth, Lisa, Matthew, Joe: SHAFT.
Bill: I thought we'd all enjoy that.
Dave: [reading one last card] And, "Help, I'm being held prisoner in a complaint box," which is actually kinda funny.

R. Reasons to smile?
Friday = Happy Hour and $5 margaritas. If that doesn't make you smile, you're pretty much soulless.

S. Season of choice?
Spring...around May when it starts to get warm again. Everything looks so pretty, you can bust out the flip-flops and you get to start eating dinner outside again.

T. Tag seven peeps!
Ummm, no. And for the record, unless you're talking about marshmallow Easter candy, there is no reason to use the word, 'peeps.'

U. Unknown fact about you?
I have wildly mundane dreams. Last night, I dreamt I was making a tour documentary about Bryan Adams. We stopped an urban high school and amazingly, the kids loved him. I dreamt this, ladies and gentlemen. Making a tour documentary about Bryan Adams was one of my dreams.

V. Vegetable?
I can't pick one. I'm a veggie polygamist of the worst kind.

W. Worst habits?
I pick my nails

X. X-ray or ultrasound?
Both depending on what was wrong with me. And for the record, total cop out on both this and the next one. X should have been X-Men (Magneto -- he has the best backstory ever).

Y. Your favourite food?
Pizza. I've eaten gourmet in swanky Italian places, Mack and Manco's (a cult fave down the Jersey Shore) and frozen $0.88 pies from Target and you know what? They're all delicious....except for Tony's. That man makes an awful, awful pizza.

Z. Zodiac sign?
Pisces. I exhibit pretty much all the tendencies of my sign -- creative, dreamy and soft like ice cream.

Less Than Three

♥

A conversation between Mom and Myself

Mom: Oh, I talked to your cousin today.
Jaime: Yeah? How is he?
Mom: He's good, he's good. He lost his job.
Jaime: .....

Losing your job is good if:

+ You're a drug mule who shoves heroin-filled balloons up your ass.
+ You're an interspecies erotica artist.
+ You work on the set of an Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg movie.

My cousin works in finance.

Right....

Paul Newman: 1925-2008

Actor. Philanthropist. Maker of delicious popcorn. #19 on Nixon's Enemies List.

I loved Paul Newman.

I have a crush on Ron Livingston and am so completely in love with Dan that sometimes, I get tongue-tied and weak at the knees just thinking about it....but Paul Newman? He's pretty much the archetype for the perfect man and I'm convinced that no-one - past, present or future - will come close to ever being as aesthetically appealing as he was.

My thoughts go out to Mr. Newman's family and friends. He was a good man and I'm sad to say goodbye to him.

Life Without You (Live) -- Stevie Ray Vaughan

38-13 Dolphins Win!

Beautiful.
Just beautiful.

Lord, Beer Little Miss Sunshine Strength

For the most part, I am Little Miss Sunshine.



No, not Abigail Breslin. I'm not nearly that adorable or that good a dancer.

I am, however, chipper, cheerful and always quick with a smile. So much so that the construction workers at my office actually call me, 'The Girl With The Smile' (highly, highly creative bunch).

However, every now and then -- the sheer asininity of her fellow man makes Little Miss Sunshine want to eat her own eyeballs out of frustration.

So, for no other reason than to help me feel better, permit me to rant a little via a series of open letters:

Dear Sir:

Calling every day is slightly excessive. Calling four times before 12:00 p.m. on the same day? Behavior worthy of a restraining order. Besides, I do not have the ability to make jobs magically appear. If I did, I would create some gloriously overpaid position for myself as pop culture blogger.

Thanks!

Jaime

_______________

Dear Ma'am:

If you can't figure out how to apply for one of our jobs, you're probably not qualified for the job itself. Oh and for the record, going to the correct website makes applying for the position that much easier.

Thanks!

Jaime

____________

Dear Sir:

If you are 17-years-old, you've basically grown up with internet access. You should be able to navigate a website and shouldn't need someone to hold your hand throughout the whole process. You could probably find internet porn blindfolded with a hand behind your back. Let's try to apply some of those skills to the job-hunting process, shall we?

Thanks!

Jaime

______________

Dear Ma'am:

Applying for every job means you're probably as qualified for them as Sarah Palin is to be vice president of the country. I.E. -- Not at all.

Stop applying.

Thanks!

________________

Lord, Beer Me Strength. No. Strike that. Lord, silo-sized margarita me strength.

Holy Shit, I Love You Part II

Right now, I love:

Google: If Google was a pair of jeans, it would be that really comfy pair that you've had forever . You know, the ones that make your butt look great. If Google was a drink, it would be a cold beer on a sweltering day, a freshly brewed cup of coffee when you first get to work or a stiff cocktail on a Saturday night. If it was a person, it would be Ron Livingston:



Any excuse to post a picture. Man, he's attractive. You know, I'm almost glad that there's a zero percent chance of me ever meeting him because doing so would cause me to morph into the world's biggest idiot. I'd probably blush and make noises as opposed to cogent sentences.

Anyway, back to Google. I love the fact that it's easy to use, has super-cute personalized themes (Paul Frank, Betsey Johnson and Kate Spade!), allows me to stay connected at work despite the evil firewall and has a sweet feature that allows me to share all sorts of cool stuff. Check out the sidebar. Sharing is caring.

Ryan Adams: I've heard numerous accounts about what an asshole this guy is, but when you pen the most viscerally pretty and sad songs ever written? You can be an asshole of Limbaughian proportions and it's easily forgiven. Because I love you and want you be to happy, here is a whole mess of amazing Ryan Adams tracks for you to sample courtesy of The Hype Machine.

Illy Coffee: Everything else tastes like non-potable, muddy water in comparison. Or, better example? Remember that pipeline of shit that Andy Dufresne crawled through in The Shawshank Redemption? Yeah, that's what everything else tastes like in comparison to Illy coffee.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: Totally underrated with brilliant performances by both Robert Downey Jr. and Val Kilmer and the best dialogue I've heard in a long time. For example:

Perry: My $2000 ceramic Vektor my mother got me as a special gift. You threw in the lake next to the car. What happens when they drag the lake? You think they'll find my pistol. Jesus. Look up "idiot" in the dictionary. You know what you'll find?
Harry: A picture of me?
Perry: No! The definition of the word idiot, which you fucking are!

NetFlix Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. I mean, it got a standing O at Cannes! What else do you want?!

I Heart You: Funny, sassy and clever. If blogging was high school, I Heart You would be the really popular girl who also happened to be super down-to-earth and sweet.

And finally, on the opposite end of the spectrum -- Holy Shit, I'm Going Into Apoplexy

Fall's approaching and when you live in the mid-Atlantic states, this means a dip in temperature.

So obviously when you get home from work and wrench off the yoke of 'business casual', the first thing you want to put on is a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt you've had since 1998.

I'm set on the t-shirt (Javelin Yearbook represent!) but can't seem to find a pair of sweatpants that fit my garden-gnomesque proportions. Every pair I tried on today puddled around my ankles making me look (yet again) like a eight-year-old playing dress up.

Sweatpants Manufacturers (I'm looking at you, Victoria's Secret and American Eagle) -- please manufacture sweatpants in a Size 1 Short. Teeny girls deserve comfortable slackerwear too.

Put Food In Me....

Although delicious, strawberry yogurt and a chocolate-and-sprinkles covered pretzel make a pretty terrible lunch.

It's 3:20 and I'm dreaming about spinach alfredo penne with fresh Parmesan and lots of black pepper.

Feed me....

Jon Stewart hits back hard on Republican allegations of sexism

So, all these Republican feminists who came out of the woodwork, shrieking to the defense of Mrs. Palin -- where were you when Hillary was being vilified?

Is she considered less of a woman because her party affiliation and therefore, undeserving of your moral outrage?

If there's one thing Republicans really excel at, it's hypocrisy.

90210: We're Not In Kansas Anymore/The Jet Set

When I first heard that 90210 was coming back, I was equal parts excited and leery.

Excited because I dig shows about pretty people with problems. Add gobs of cash to the equation and it's ratings gold. As a wise philosopher once said, "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems."

I was leery because there is no way this new incarnation could have been nearly as awesome as the Spelling soap. Dylan's dad dying in a car explosion, Donna Martin graduates! Kelly's insanely tumultuous life, Tiffani Thiessen casting off the Kelly Kapowski shackles and slipping into her new role as bad girl, Valerie Malone -- how can new 90210 possibly compete?

But, the more I learned about it -- the more I started to change my mind. A huge plus was the fact that Rob Thomas (not him) is involved in the development of the show. Thomas also developed Veronica Mars and if 90210 is half as clever, I've got high hopes.

Add to that the return of Jennie Garth, Shannen Doherty (best frenemies ever) and Joe E. Tata and you've got what constitutes as required viewing.

Let's meet 90210's finest, shall we?

Harry (Rob Estes): West Beverly High's new principal and patriarch of the Wilson clan. He's ruggedly handsome, has the body of a twentysomething athlete and in the first episode, we find out that he's got an adopted son he never knew about until now! Awesome.

Debbie (Lori Loughlin): Aunt Becky is back and she's still smoking hot. Again, Loughlin finds herself playing the sweetheart from the heartland trying to reconcile the differences between Midwestern values and a glam Los Angeles lifestyle.

Annie (Shanae Grimes): The anti-Brenda, Annie's kind of dorky and doe-eyed. She's also irritatingly unaware of her waify sex appeal. Imagine an emaciated Miley Cyrus but with better teeth. Grimes and Loughlin actually resemble one another, so this was great casting.



Dixon (Tristan Wilds): The Wilsons' adopted son. He plays lacrosse, he feels like he doesn't fit in and I'm not too sure what to make of him just yet. His character prompted the following conversation between Dan and I:

Dan: Bet you the black kid will be written off the show. He's boring.
Jaime: They can't write him off the show! He's a main character!
Dan: They wrote Brenda off the show.
Jaime: Touche, sir. Touche.

Tabitha (Jessica Walters): Although she's playing a former actress and Betty Ford Center regular, Walters basically reprises her role as Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development and she is fabulous. Jessica Walters puts the 'sex' in sexagenarian.

Kelly (Jennie Garth): She's back but this time she's not being stalked by psychotic women, getting sexually assaulted, fighting over Dylan or addicted to psychotropic substances....yet. Ms. Taylor is working as the school guidance counselor and has a four-year-old son named Sam. Allegedly, Sam's daddy is none other than bad-boy Dylan McKay, but Dylan's MIA and the kid looks an awful lot like Steve Sanders, so no clue what's up there. And speaking of family...

Silver (Jessica Stroup): Kelly and David's half-sister Erin has grown up and ditched the blonde hair and the first name. A music junkie (something she obviously picked up from big brother DJ David), she becomes BFF with Annie after noticing an obscure band sticker on Annie's notebook. Silver is infamous for her blog, The Vicious Circle. Mainstream media pundits take note -- not all bloggers are Cheetoh-dusted basement dwellers.

Naomi (AnnaLynne McCord): Poor little rich girl who manages to look both pharmaceutically dazed and wantonly feral at the same time. She spends the first five minutes of screen-time stressing about her sweet sixteen -- a Misshapen hipster wet dream with Tilly and the Wall serving as house band and Cory Kennedy and Mark the Cobrasnake in attendance. Sidebar: Someone please explain Ms. Kennedy's fame to me? Thanks.

Ethan (Dustin Milligan): A lacrosse player Annie locked lips with a few summers ago. Our boy Ethan is not only dating Naomi but also cheating on her with some random chickenhead who digs giving head in parked cars. This prompts sweet innocent Annie to ponder, "I just don't get why Ethan would cheat on someone like Naomi....?"

To co-opt and ameliorate the words of Stu Macher, there's always some stupid bullshit reason to cheat on your girlfriend.

Long story short -- Ethan and Naomi break up rather publicly and Ethan begins flirting with Annie. And like an idiot, she flirts back. Having a 3% memory retention rate, I guess Annie forgot all about the vehicular fellatio she witnessed.

Navid (David Steger): The Persian politico and second token minority of the show. Navid runs the West Beverly Blaze and reminds me so much of Cher's classic quote from Clueless -- "They do the T.V. station. They think that's the most important thing on Earth. And that's the Persian mafia. You can't hang with them unless you own a BMW." Fun fact? His dad's a big time porn producer.

Adrienne (Jessica Lowndes): Pill-popping, bread-winning actress who looks like Nelly Furtado...if Nelly Furtado modeled for American Apparel.

George (Kellan Lutz): Blonde guy who looks like he'd excel at lacrosse, water polo and date rape. If this was The O.C., his main broseph would definitely be Luke.

Ty (Adam Gregory): Hot, wildly wealthy and seemingly sensitive. For a first date hang, he jets Annie off to San Francisco for a bite to eat. Annie's take on the experience -- "This is like Pretty Woman only I'm not a whore!"

Mr. Matthews (Ryan Eggold): Hip English lit teacher who resembles Ryan Gosling's dorky kid brother. He's got a crush on Kelly (who doesn't?) and I've got a crush on him.

The plot of the pilot was essentially the same as the original but sexier. The first twenty minutes and we're already witness to a blowjob in a car. Way to keep it classy, guys.

The Wilsons move from Wichita, KS to a lush mansion (no, it's not Casa Walsh) in America's most famous zip code. Annie and Dixon quickly learn that Beverly Hills in nothing like Kansas.

Mr. Matthews assigns Naomi to be Annie's "Beverly Buddy." Despite the fact that the plan reeks of fail, it actually works out to Naomi's advantage. You see, planning a Super Sweet Sixteen is hard work and can heavily interfer with your academic life. Naif to the rescue! Annie hooks Naomi up with an old paper about A Tale of Two Cities and Naomi plagiarizes the whole thing. Obviously. To make up for it, Naomi buys Annie an $800 dress. If my friends ever did anything like this, they'd probably just apologize and leave it at that. Cheap bastards.

Meanwhile, Dixon is harassed by his lacrosse teammates. When Mr. Matthews demands the truth about the altercation, Ethan (the only witness) steps up to the plate and promptly lies about the incident, defending his teammate and getting Dixon 86'd from the team. Yes, Ethan is a massive douchebag.

Annie becomes the "star" of Silver's blog in a crudely-animated video -- payback for dissing Silver for Naomi earlier (these two go back and their history ain't pretty). But, Silver makes it up to Annie by getting the budding thespian a role in the chorus of Spring Awakening.

Ethan decides he's got some manning up to do as well, so he reveals the truth about the fight. Unfortunately, Dixon has already sent Naomi a text message stating the obvious -- homeboy is cheating on you and you might wanna get that itch inspected. Because this is television, Naomi gets the message right before her big moment at her Sweet Sixteen. It's around this time that Harry learns about the son he never had from Naomi's mom.

Since it's a two-hour premiere, Hour Two kicks off with garbage. Lots of it. Piled up in the halls of West Beverly courtesy of hometown rivals, Palisades High. To get revenge (and win the admiration of his teammates), Dixon borrows three little pigs from Navid's father porn set (Dude, what kind of movie is this?) and releases them on Palisades' football field. He gets off easy though when Harry learns that inspiration came from a prank he had pulled years earlier.

While Dixon's playing This Little Piggy, Annie is being wooed by Ty, the lead in the school play and a teenager so unfathomably wealthy that he can afford to take a girl to San Francisco for dinner. Unfortunately for Annie who was supposed to be on Gangy-Watch, Gangy gets into a minor car accident and Annie gets grounded. Worst of all -- her parents cut off her coffee money allowance! Jesus, is this Beverly Hills or Abu Ghraib?! It's OK, though because the show ends with Ty smooching Annie while a surprised Ethan watches on, cuddling a stuffed octopus and pouting ever so slightly.

The pilot was pretty good but what I'm really looking forward to is November. I.E. -- Sweeps month. You know there'll be some serious drama going down and I can't wait to see how it does.

Finally, a quick edition of Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down to wrap it all up.

Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down:

Thumbs Up: Liz Phair does the music for the show! I love her and I also love the fact that the opening scene featured Viva La Vida by Coldplay. A bit overplayed but a good choice nevertheless.
Thumbs Down: The new theme song isn't nearly as awesome or iconic as the old one. What can I tell you? This girl loves her sax solos.

Thumbs Up: Nat's back!
Thumbs Down: Why is the Peach Pit a coffee place? Nat should be slingin' Megaburgers, not macchiatos. Oh and what happened to the Peach Pit After Dark? Why has it been renamed The Pit? DJ David and bartender Noah would not approve.

Thumbs Up: Hannah Zuckerman Vasquez is back and repping her Mom's legacy at the Blaze.
Thumbs Down: Donde esta Andrea y Jesse?

Thumbs Up: Jackie Taylor returns next week as Kelly and Erin's pill-popping hot mess of a mom. Sorry, Dina Lohan. Jackie's an O.G. and you've got nothing on her. Also scheduled to return? Brandon Walsh himself! I can't wait to see the prodigal son return.
Thumbs Down: Luke Perry has no interest in returning to the show. Dude, what else are you doing that's so important?

Artwork and Politics

We're hunting for artwork for our institutionally white walls.

We've put up an Almost Famous poster and ordered a very cool, very film noir Veronica Mars poster:



Dan and I are big TV/movie people and wanted to find artwork reflective of us and our tastes as opposed to just slapping up something generic like a Parisian cityscape or a black-and-white image of a mountain.

Now, I'm trying to find cool typographical art (we're both writers. This only makes sense) and something for the kitchen that relates to food without being:

A) Cutesy in that faux country farmhouse way
B) An advertisement for alcohol.

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of song lyrics printed in bold-colored cardstock. Something like this:



I think it could work.

On a more political note, I've noticed Republicans been making a lot of snide comments about Barack Obama's "celebrity" status. According to them, celebrity status should be vilified. Well, I'd like to bring something to their attention. Ronald Reagan was not only an actor, but president of the Screen Actor's Guild. I.E. -- a pretty big celebrity.

A little less hypocrisy and bullshit goes a long way, guys. Just sayin'. Oh and speaking of bullshit, regarding McCain's vice-presidential pick, Sarah Palin?

Bwahahahahahahahahah!

I can't wait to see Joe Biden eviscerate her in the debates. Ms. Palin doesn't stand a chance.

I want a West Beverly High t-shirt.

Just how much of a complete douchebag does that make me?

Yeah....that's what I thought.

They fell in love, didn't they?

Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are back together.



Which gives me a great excuse to post this clip.

We were having a conversation about The Notebook at work and a majority of the ladies at the office would pick Lon Hammond Jr. (played by James Marsden) over Noah Calhoun (played by Ryan Gosling).

Dub tee eff?!

Yes, Hammond (played by James Marsden) is rich, charming and good-looking...



...but come on!

Noah built Allie her dream house! And he's a poet! And he looks like this!



In my world, love > money every time.

I guess that's why I'm marrying a writer who kisses me twenty times a day and sings to me instead of a CEO who's never home.

Saukrates - Money or Love

Holy Shit, I Love You! Part One

Yes, originally uploaded by CrissyAlright.

The first in a series of random things that I love. Holy shit.

+ The new issue of Nylon Magazine. It's the TV issue and I've gotta say it's probably my favorite one yet.
+ The new 90210. I'm excited for it...even if there isn't any Brenda-Kelly-Dylan drama afoot ("Brenda, I'm a Spring Princess!" "Kelly, I don't give a damn!")
+ C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve. It smells delicious and is Carrie Bradshaw approved.
+ Diet Coke.
+ Bobby Darin.
+ These giraffe-print Dr. Scholl slides. Totally cute, totally comfy and giraffe print is the new black. Trust the girl who lives in jeans and flip flops.
+ The music in Can't Hardly Wait. I would definitely buy a complete compilation -- Third Eye Blind, Sublime, Dire Straits (is there a clause in Ethan Embry's contract that requires all movies starring him to feature this song? He danced to it in Empire Records as well), Missy Elliot, Guns 'N Roses, Busta Rhymes, Barry Manilow Boyz II Men and Nazareth?! Come on -- that's a killer party mix.
+ Springfield Punx. Ever wondered what Tobias Funke would look like if he cameoed on The Simpsons? Check it out. Dean T. Fraser is a pretty talented guy.



The breakfast I had at the Nectar Coffee Shop on Madison Avenue in New York City. The coffee was the best I've ever had in my life (everything else tastes like muddy dish water in comparison), the bialy was delicious and the whole thing cost me less than $5! Holy shit, I loved it and will definitely be making a return visit.

They should call it FuckDonalds.

I hate McDonalds for a litany of reasons:

- Their mascot is a clown. Clowns are terrifying. John Wayne Gacy used to dress up as a clown. He was a serial killer. Think about it.

- Their food is terrible -- the fries don't taste anything like potatoes and don't disintegrate like real food should, they have a staggering lack of vegetarian options (even Burger King offers a thoroughly mediocre veggie burger) and their McFlurries end up giving you the McFlurries. Disgusting, but true.

- Breakfast stops at 10:30 a.m. as opposed to 11:00 a.m (Thank you, Big Daddy). Trying to order breakfast after 10:30 a.m. is like trying to get George W. Bush to pronounce the word 'Nuclear' correctly -- a damn near impossible and thoroughly futile task.

I rarely, if ever, patronize this franchise but Dan wanted a chicken sandwich and since Chik-Fil-A is closed on Sundays, we decided to hit up the McDonalds' Drive Thru.

It's 10:33 a.m.
Breakfast is over.
Has been for three minutes.

If you try and order an Egg McMuffin, I'm fairly sure that red and yellow stormtroopers will come out and attempt to drown you in a vat of secret sauce.

Luckily for us -- the chicken sandwich is on the lunch menu. The number eight. A lucky number in some culture. Not for us, though.

I pull up to the drive-thru and place my order, speaking loudly and clearly so nothing will get lost in translation:

Jaime: Hi! Can I get the number eight chicken sandwich and a Coke, please?
Drive-Thru Dude: (garble garble) Numba eight? (garble garble)
Jaime: Yeah -- the number eight chicken sandwich and a Coke.
Drive Thru Dude: (garble garble) $5.40 (garble, garble).

I pull up to the cash window, fork over my money and proceed to the pick-up window.

I pick up my food and am about to drive off when Dan realize that instead of a chicken sandwich, the bag contains a Sausage McGriddle.

Dan: This is wrong.
Jaime: The entire concept of McDonalds is wrong.
Dan: No, this isn't a chicken sandwich. This is a Sausage McGriddle.

The guy behind us blares his horn. Calm down, asshole. You'll get your artery-clogging garbage in a minute.

I tell Window Guy that the order is wrong.

Jaime: Hi! Sorry, but this isn't what we ordered.
Window Guy: What did you order?
Jaime: The number eight -- a chicken sandwich.
Window Guy: The number eight is a Sausage McGriddle.
Jaime: But it's past 10:30 and the board outside says "Number 8 -- Southern Style Chicken Sandwich."
Window Guy: Board's broken. Number eight's a Sausage McGriddle.
Jaime: But I said chicken sandwich and breakfast is over.
Window Guy: Number eight's a Sausage McGriddle.

Goddamn it.

We're going round in circles and the guy behind me is practically apoplectic, so I admit defeat and drive off, sans sandwich.

Dan bites into his sandwich and discovers that a McGriddle tastes like a syrup-and-grease coated hockey puck while I remember that my ex used to work at McDonalds and is now in the military. I am suddenly very, very scared for the future of our country.

I abide by the rules of McDonalds' facist breakfast regime and still manage to get screwed.

I'm not lovin' it.

I had a dream last night and it fit me like a glove

I keep having the same dream.

I win the lottery, move to Los Angeles and get my masters and doctorate at UCLA.

Lottery dreams usually consist of cars, mansions, designer shoes and travel to exotic locales.

Mine involve higher education.

Pffttt....even in my dreams, I'm a square.

Hell, I Still Love You New York

Living in South Florida, you learn to dislike New York very quickly. Every winter, New Yorkers descend on your life like locusts who can't drive and make everything miserable. There's more traffic, more lines everywhere and worst of all, more Jets/Yankees fans -- I swear, they're like sperm. Only one in 30,000 has a chance of being a human being.

So, the idea of a South Floridian hitting NYC for the weekend is, in theory, a pretty terrible idea. But I've had a crush on big cities ever since I can remember and a weekend in one of the biggest seemed like a pretty great way for Dan and I to celebrate our anniversary.

My crush quickly bloomed into a full-blown love affair.

The noise, the crush of people, even the smell -- a heady mix of bus fumes, perfume, street food (particularly roasted nuts and hot dogs) and that X-factor makes you grimace momentarily. It's amazing and I can't wait until we go back.



Because we're all about riding in style, we took the Bolt Bus to NYC. It's efficient, it's clean and it only cost us $20 each for a round trip. Highly recommended.



We're here! The first thing we did was head over to see our friend Bryan at work. He was sweet enough to play host/tour guide all weekend and he was amazing. Bryan works at HBO and because of this, we actually got to eat at the HBO eatery, cleverly titled tHe BistrO. Get it? Yeah.



Because I am a nerd, I dragged Dan to Nintendo World where I spent a good ten minutes searching frantically for a Link plush toy. My search came up empty. Sadface.



Ladies and gentlemen, my fiance is a member of the Dharma initiative.



Dan and Bryan at the Brooklyn Promenade. God, I'd kill for this view. It's gorgeous.



We had breakfast at the Nectar Coffee Shop on Madison Avenue. I had a bialy -- which is like a bagel crossed with an English muffin (a buffin?) and the best iced coffee I've ever had in my life. Seriously, after drinking this -- I wanted to start a petition to change the name of Dunkin Donuts to Dunkin Garbage.



My breakfast was so good, I became a little gangsta. Just a little. Polish Ashkenazi cuisine will do that to a girl.



Then, we headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They have the coolest exhibition going on right now called Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy which not only features actual superhero costumes (Christian Bale's from The Dark Knight, Michelle Pfeiffer's from Batman Returns, Rebecca Romijn's from X-Men, Tobey Maguire's from Spiderman....) but also interpretations on each costume by designers like Marc Jacobs and Versace. It's amazing and I highly recommend it.



There was another pretty fantastic exhibit on the roof of the Met. Jeff Koons' exhibit runs through October 26 and if you get a chance, you should check it out.



My favorite of Koons' pieces.



All the pretty artwork got to me. As Bryan put it, I look like, "the overaggressive girl in second grade who just had to kiss you."

After the Met, we headed to Broadway where I saw my first show titled [Title of Show]. The plot's very clever and very meta -- it's about two guys playing themselves writing a play about two guys playing themselves. It's hysterically funny, the music is great (Heidi Blickenstaff has an incredible voice) and there's a shirtless guy and a lesbian kiss. A perfect musical.



55 Central Park West. Also known as "the Ghostbusters building." Dan was so excited to see this in real life. Cutest. Movie Nerd. Ever.



"Nobody steps on a church in my town!" -- Peter Venkman.



Red Mango frozen yogurt is effing delicious. As witnessed by my bare-empty cup here.



Keeping with the dessert theme, even the cookie cake knew what was up.



So, in closing -- yeah, the place is filled with Jets fans (i.e.: scum of the earth douchebags) and schmucks who are stupid enough to roll joints right there in the middle of the street (you know what's funny? When a gust of wind picks up and blows all their weed away. Hilarious), but in the words of Ryan Adams -- Hell, I still love you, New York.

Food + Work = Fork

One of the reasons I like the ladies I work with so much is because they all really appreciate food. Example: today, we decided to have a Thanksgiving-in-September Pot Luck Lunch.

Everyone's going to bring in a Thanksgivingy dish, we will feast like hell-damn-ass kings and then, I'll probably fall asleep at my desk and wake up with Post-Its stuck to my hair and an imprint of a paper clip on my cheek.

Being English, the glory of Thanksgiving was lost on me for eleven tragic years.

There were no cute little palm turkeys, no parades with giant inflatables and certainly no mashed potatoes and stuffing come the fourth Thursday in November.

Then -- I moved to the States and met The Best Friend's family. Wonderful, glorious people who introduced me to mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, Indiana corn, pecan pie and soft buttery rolls that practically floated off of the table and onto your plate.

Needless to say, Thanksgiving quickly became my favorite time of year. Football, family and enough food to quell the appetite of Kobayashi . What's not to like?

I began lusting after Thanksgiving food. March would roll around and I'd start to crave stuffing or I'd get a vicious jones for mashed potato volcanoes with green bean casserole lava (What? I make my food fun).

Thus began my bastardization of Thanksgiving dinner.

A couple of years ago, The Best Friend and I decided that waiting until November for Thanksgiving food was ridiculous and that lead to the birth of the Gobblewich-- a sandwich so delicious, it makes everything else on the planet taste like hot, wet garbage.

Although the name is genius, the sandwich's true genius lies in its simplicity.



A breaded mashed potato-and-stuffing patty served with slices of turkey and cranberry sauce on a buttered roll. Add a couple of green beans and a side of homemade macaroni and cheese and you'll be dropping into a food coma before you've had time to wipe that errant smear of cranberry sauce from your chin. What's not to like?

Hmmm....I'll bet this is exactly how Ben Franklin felt when he invented electricity.

See The Dark Knight

I took the day off work today.

Why? Because Dan and I had tickets to the 9:00 a.m. IMAX screening of The Dark Knight. This meant waking up at 6:20 and waiting in line outside of the theater by 7:00 a.m. When we arrived, there were about ten people ahead of us.

At 11:38 a.m., I was back outside of the theater, blinking in the sunlight and completely mesmerized by what I had just seen.

Even if I could manage to string together a sentence on how shit-rockingly awesome this movie is, I wouldn't want to because I would hate to ruin it for anyone who has yet to see the film.

If you like movies in any capacity whatsoever, see this film (preferably on an IMAX screen). It's brilliant. Seriously.

It's the weekend, I have the day off, I just saw a fantastic film and I'm in a hell of a good mood, so I'm sharing the love:

Dark Night -- Tito and Tarantula

Completely unrelated (kinda) but equally badass! Enjoy!

P.S.



Christian Bale has earned himself a permanent place on the Laminated List. Like a bag of hammers, I would.