Sunday, January 25, 2015

FitBit To Be Tied

The Penguin March Badge
I got a badge today. The Penguin March badge. You see, when you walk 70 lifetime miles, you match the distance of the March of the Penguins - the annual trip the emperor penguins make to their breeding grounds. I guess I need to pee on a pregnancy stick now.

No I’m not a girl scout. Fuck, have you even read my blog

I’m the proud owner of a FitBit physical activity/fitness tracker. One of the thousands given as gifts this past Christmas. It tracks the steps you take, the stairs you climb, even your sleep. It sends emails to keep you motivated, and emails little badges when you reach a milestone. My brother Boris and his wife Natasha have one as well. My sister P.I.T.A. does not. She says she ‘doesn’t like to be tied down’. That’s a pity for her.
The FitBit One

FitBit ownership starts off as fun. Woo hoo, I walked 5,021 steps today! And you’re feeling proud and productive. Until you find out that your brother walked 9,989 steps. And your sister in law walked 10,200 steps. And you’re like, what the fuck? Did she tie the damn thing to the dog? 

My competitive nature kicked in. Now I’m hopping around while cooking dinner. Bringing the laundry down the steps a piece at a time. Taking the dogs for such long walks that Frank the Boston starts to sniff every piece of dead grass while giving me ‘are you fucking kidding me’ looks. 

The other day I got an email from my FitBit. The email said that I if I walk another 1,500 steps, I’d make ‘my’ goal of 10,000 steps. I sat there for a minute, my brain actually contemplating doing as told. I mean, it’s only 1,500 steps. Easy, right? But when did 10,000 become ‘MY’ goal? If it were that easy, then why didn’t I already have it done? I work hard, dance around my desk like Richard Simmons chasing Chris Hemsworth (cuz he's so dreamy) to get steps in. I take the stairs instead of the elevator (thankfully the building is only four floors). If I wasn’t so exhausted from constantly moving around like a god damned fire walker, I would have walked those extra steps already! Where’s the appreciation for the effort I already put in? Where’s the love now FitBit buddy? That email boarders on harassment! Are you heckling me FitBit ol’pal? I ignored the FitBit.

Thirty minutes later it sends me another email. It read, ‘I know you read my email A/I/K/E’ (for those who do not know, AIKE is the acronym for Assume I Know Everything). Those 1,500 steps aren’t going to walk themselves.’ Huh. When did we go on a first name basis? Wait, walk themselves? Oh that’s funny FitBit, you’re a regular laugh riot. That was so God damned funny, it gave me cancer! I ignored that email too. No glorified pedometer is going to intimidate me! I took the damned thing off and left it on the table. 

The phone in my pocket vibrated. It was another FitBit email. It read ‘You know, if you put the same effort into those steps that you put into placing me on the table, you would have exceeded your goal. I won’t be ignored A/I/K/E. Want some incentive? What’s that delicious odor coming from your kitchen? Gee, have you seen Frank lately?’… 

I sat bolt upright in my bed. The FitBit on my wrist that was tracking my sleep was gently vibrating to wake me up. (Yes, it has an alarm too! But can it julienne potatoes in the airlock of the space station while doing the macarena?) Frank was gently snoring on his pillow. I grabbed my phone. I had a new badge with a message. It was the 'No Slackers' badge. The message read, 'It was only a dream...this time!!!!!"

The No Slackers Badge

Saturday, January 3, 2015

My 2015 New Years Revelations

WOOOOO it’s time for the mystical turn of the calendar. It’s a magical time when people reflect on the year about to pass. And while cringing at memories of debauchery and chaos from that year, they make ‘resolutions’ to change their life and make the next year…better.  

Dumbassery I say! 

Everyone makes resolutions. I make revelations. It sheds light on the absurd and reveals a little about myself in the process.
My 2015 revelations: 

My Taste In Music Has Changed, And Must Change Again. I was a teen during the anti-disco movement. I shunned top 40 and bopped to music I thought was rebellious! The Clash, The Sex Pistols, Cheap Trick. As a DJ in college I blended my tastes into the ‘New Wave’. Imagine my shock when a few months ago I found myself bopping around to Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’! I texted my 25 year old son, in whom I have instilled my rebellious music choices. I said, ‘Son, is it weird that I like Taylor Swift’s new song?’ I waited hours for his response. Surely it would sooth my aging ego. Finally I heard the tinkle of my IPhone. His response was only one word…’Yes’.


I Watch The History Channel’s ‘Ancient Aliens’. Yes…I watch this show. It makes me laugh. It caught my attention last March and its nonsensical hypotheses have entertained me since. Especially when they focus on resident dumbass Giorgio A. Tsoukalos. This man’s hair makes Einstein’s look like a crew cut. They obviously use snippets from different interviews in an episode because his hair wondrously elevates and shortens throughout. It’s bewitching! Someday, I will create a drinking game based on this wizardry. 

I Need To Write More. I know, I know - once a month is not enough! Fucking A people, writing is hard. If it were easy, everyone would do it!

I Need To Get Wet More Often. To those who have read my blog, you may have noticed that I don’t like to get wet. When I have to go out in the rain, I bundle up like a Muslim in a waterproof burqa. I don’t take baths, I shower in the hope that I can stand in between the drops. I only swim when the temperature is as hot as the surface of the sun. That way when I get out of the water I am instantly dry. You can imagine my dilemma when it comes to working out. To get a good workout, you have to sweat. Sweating is odorous water on your body. Pardon me while I gag for a moment…To lose weight, you have to be active. To be active, you have to sweat. Once you sweat, you have to shower. You see my problem here? Anyway, I’m going to work out more to lose weight. No resolution here, just an abhorrent fact. SO I guess I’m going to get wet more...unless any of you out there know how to work out without sweating. Gag, heave, cough…ok, I’m better... 

Do Something Nice For Others Every Day. I got this one covered. Just allowing people to be near me IS ‘doing something nice for others’. My co-workers are privileged to have my snarkey comments, dirty looks, and overly dramatic sighs on a daily basis. My stark honesty keeps bullshit levels at bay. Fuck niceness – be truthful (and dramatic at the same time). 

‘Think with my Vagina’. I honestly don’t know what this means. I saw it as a Tweet on New Years Eve and it fascinated me. I would imagine you would have angry thoughts for a few days every month. Do you think with your vagina when you go grocery shopping? You’d end up with a cart filled with tampons, pads, douches, and maybe a large cucumber. Perhaps you think with your vagina when considering a job offer. ‘Oh, I’m sorry mister hunky CEO guy, but my vagina is telling me that this position, is not a good fit for me and I would probably be fired within the first few months. On the upside, my vagina says that I am indeed available for dinner tonight…'

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

I Hate The IRS

Have you ever needed to speak to someone at the IRS? Ever try giving them call? Then you know my frustration.

I had a situation and desperately needed to speak to a representative. After one hour and twenty two minutes on hold, Mr. Wilson (ID number 1000571801) answered! He promptly advised me to call a taxpayer advocate service; he was having a bad day, and hung up on me.

Let me repeat that...After waiting 1 hour and 22 minutes, an IRS representative disconnected me because he was having a bad day.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Dumb and Dumber

I like to read. I’ve been known to devour entire volumes in a 24 hour period. However, I must admit it’s been a few years since I’ve sat back with a good book. With the leaves on the trees turning color and that nip in the air, I decided it was time to pick up an old favorite. Edgar Allen Poe’s, The Murders in the Rue Morgue
In less than five minutes of cracking the book open, I put it down. I adjusted how I was sitting. I checked my cell phone to see if I had any text messages. I sighed, there were none. I adjusted myself and tried again. Wow, my thumb nail looked really awful. There were splits near the tip...I got up and filed my thumb nail. I sat back down in my comfy chair with my faux fur blanket and tried to start again… 

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Can We Talk?

As you all know - on September 4, 2014, Joan Rivers went to that giant comedy club in the sky. She was 81, lived an amazing life, and yet it seems like she left us too soon. She was caustic, vulgar, shocking. She was kind, generous, comforting. 

I was lucky enough to see her live show just about a year ago at a local casino and wrote about it in my blog ( I Love Joan Rivers). 

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Git Aft Yer Keester 'n Read This, Ya Scurvey Rascal

Ahoy me buckos!

Natterin’ like a pirate day be S'tember 19th. Tis just around t' corner me hearty! To celebrate t' day, I be recyclin' a post from last year. Sit aft on yer keester in yer comfy sweat pants. Swill a cup o grog and have ye a read ya pompus webwenches & scurvey cockroaches!


Click here for 'September 19th is International Talk Like A Pirate Day!' READ ME!

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Did I Mention Feet Are Gross?

I was sitting at my desk at work. My nose was firmly scrapping the grindstone when I felt it. A slight disturbance in the aura of the office. I told myself to ignore it. It’s just me and Ida in the office. As long as the place wasn’t engulfed in flames, and she didn’t have an uzi, I was fine.

Tapping away at the keyboard my nose began to itch like there was an imaginary spider web I had inadvertently snagged. There was an…odor. At first I thought it smelled like crackers. I shrugged it off. I could deal with stale saltines. But the stronger the odor got, the more repugnant it became. The smell morphed into crackers soaked in sock sweat, wrapped in raw cow hide.

Monday, June 30, 2014

The Bitch Of My Resting Face

‘Do you want to talk?’ ‘Are you mad at me?’ ‘Did you try some prunes?’ ‘Are you riding the crimson wave?’ ‘Christ on a cracker she’s in a foul mood - RUN!’ ‘What a bitch.’

In my lifetime I’ve heard many of these comments (except the last one because most people think my being a curmudgeon is adorable). They come from well-meaning people who want to help and up their karmic score at the same time. The thing is, there is usually nothing wrong. These people just had a glimpse of my…‘resting face’, also known as ‘Bitchy Resting Face’.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

My March Madness

I took most of the month of March off. I foolishly thought that if I actually relaxed, my funny would kick in and I would start writing posts that are somewhere near the works of genius produced by the writers of 'The Daily Show' or Bill Maher’s 'Real Time' (like their politics or not, you have to admit the writers are quite witty).

Sunday, March 2, 2014

'Hair' Brained TV

It's one of those ‘at home’ days where one does laundry, cleans a little, and catches up on TV.

Bored, I flipped through the multiple political talking head channels. I landed on the History channel and was frozen in place.

WTF is that!

It was a head of a different nature. Its smarmy snake eyes vacantly stared out through the television and instantly mesmerized me. I had no power left in my thumb to click on another channel. It was too late, I was stuck there. My mouth hung agape and I could feel the drool pooling in the corner of my mouth.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Saturday, February 8, 2014

February the 14th

Can you feel it? The air is charged with a tension produced by millions of single people dreading a ‘pseudo holiday’ created to make them feel even more alone than they already do.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Morning Intercourse

I’m one of the millions of people who had to look for a new job at an age when it’s not easy to find one. Without going into the depressing (dismal, dispiriting, bleak) details, the end result is that I am now employed (yay me), just grossly under employed (sigh…fuckin’ a).

Sunday, January 26, 2014

A Tale Of Ghost Ships And Cannibal Rats

The playwright George Bernard Shaw said, 'You don't stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing.’ 
I’ve been feeling very old lately and need to start laughing. Just when I was about to put my hair up into a bun, start sporting ‘Depends’ and buy a new rocking chair, I caught a story on the news that made me laugh. Not a maniacal crazy lady laugh (that's for special occasions), but a ‘wow that’s weird’ laugh.
On the evening news, I caught the tail end of a story about a rat-infested 'ghost ship'. How do you get rid of a bunch of ghost rats? Ghost cats? I fired up the laptop and started searching. Oh! A ghost ship WITH rats…silly me.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Going With The Flow

I bought two boxes of 36 count tampons at the drug store this morning. The cashier jokingly asked me if I had a lot of daughters at home. I smiled and said, ‘yeah, daughters’.

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A writer exercising the writing muscle.