Clareified

There are the things you keep, the things you throw away and the former can never be the latter no matter how hard you try.

Pi: What’re you doing?
Me: Playing backgammon. I have a wholly vengeance based strategy.
Pi: You need to learn some cooperative games. I suggest puzzles.

HOLY–! Is right! That was the best Heroes episode EVER EVER!!!

(more…)

“Noah! Put down the tape.”

HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAH

I don’t know why, but I’ve always imagined a woman in a business suit, balancing on one foot as she puts on her right high heeled shoe as the epitome of adulthood. On second thought, I guess that makes sense – business suit indicates job of some kind and balance, well what adult doesn’t have that? Wait, I have no idea why I just told that story expect some perverse desire to reveal yet another layer of my psychosis for the blog reading public.
Anyhoo, I know you all don’t know this, but I’ve spent almost two months trapped in a Brooklyn apartment while I recover from surgery. I know, I know. I never talk about it. So, I figured it was time to get out there and see the world beyond my apartment, car hitting trucks and all. On Friday night Karol insisted that we drive down to Jersey for the weekend, even though we were co-hosting a discussion group on Saturday night AND I was throwing my very first random dinner party on Sunday. I valiantly fought to do the sane, responsible thing and stay home, especially since we had just been to Jersey that Wednesday.
But no. She put her foot down, threatened the lives of my loved ones, and sent armed gunmen. Russians.
I assume she applied similar pressure to KJ’s arms…although he did say something like “thank God my girlfriend observes Shabbos,” as he jumped into the front seat at around nine Friday evening.
As is traditional whenever we’re going anywhere, Karol had to drop her laundry off at her mom’s house first. Seriously, I don’t know if she leads a secret life as a mud wrestler or what, but she is single handedly keeping Tide solvent.
As we waited for her, I finally beat the practice of him calling me by that horrid shortened nickname that people always use for my real name.
“No, it’s Dawn. Not Da or Dawnie or any derivation.”
“Yes, Dawn.”
Once we had reached an understanding, I put the knife away.
Karol finally came out of the house and we were on our way down to the promised land.
Unfortunately, since my driving foot is all out of commission, KJ and I were stuck listening to Karol’s craptacular selection of Depression Rock, hair bands and overdosed musicians for two ours. Including a horrifyingly twelve minute-long Justin Timberlake “I wrote this while I was stoned” song. Oh, shout out to Peter the donut stealer for keeping me up to date and the happenings of members of NSync. He really should get a blog.
We got to Jersey and I insisted on valet parking so I wouldn’t have to walk on my gimp foot to get to the check-in desk. Of course, we ended up taking the wrong entrance and having to walk through the entire casin…hotel to get to the front desk anyway. (Oooh, did anyone else notice that sin is right there in the middle of the word…hotel?)
My entire leg was pretty much killing me by the time we got to the front desk, though you wouldn’t be able to tell by the way that I stoically and quietly handed my credit card and ID to the counterdude.
“Uh, can you give us a room close to the…hotel library…or else I’m going to have to hear ow my foot hurts for the rest of this trip,” Karol asked the counterdude over the sounds of my stoicism.
As I was leaning on the counter, because my foot hurt, from surgery, my hand brushed against the row of fluorescent bulbs that the Tropicana inexplicably has placed under the counter. I burned my hand and screamed.
Stoically, of course.
“What happened?” KJ asked.
“I touched the bulb and now burned my hand,” I said to the allegedly studying to be a doctor KJ, “I need ice or cold water.”
“No, no, no…you know what you should do…touch the bulb again, that’ll take away the pain.”
Yes, the cauterize your burn method.
I’m so telling Michael Moore that this is what they’re teaching the pre-med students these days.
We all then had a nice dinner and turned in early so we could be well rested for a day of wholesome sight seeing and volunteer work the next day.
The next morning, KJ was gone by the crack of dawn…to…um…tutor young troubled Atlantic City youth, he won Karol’s heart forever with his charming note on the bathroom mirror which read, in relevant part, “Dear Princesses.” I’m pretty sure she didn’t get any further than that.
She then stole all the bathroom products and we were on our way. KJ had left his bag and coat in the room, so we took them down with us to check out.
“Let’s leave him a note,” Karol suggested.
“Dude, we’ll see him downstairs or in the hallway, don’t leave a note. Even if he misses us, he’ll figure out we’re at the car. It’s not like we have this scam where we take young men to Atlantic City and leave them there after stealing their coats and bags…although…I could use that kinda cash…”
For some reason, Karol kept singing Kanye West songs all morning long, including the intro song “Good Morning,” so when KJ met us in the lobby and Karol said “Good Morning,” and he quickly stammered a polite “good morning” back and seemed flustered that he hadn’t said it first, I felt the need to clarify that she wasn’t being polite, she was just singing a song.
“She’s evil and has no manners, so don’t worry about her.”
“Nu uh, Dawn is the evil, racist one.”
And here is where I usually protest, but as I have been recently banned from an international site for racist abuse of chat privileges…sigh.
We waited a horribly long time for the valet to bring the car around…or correction, we waited a horribly long time for Karol to recognize that the green Honda parked at the curb was the same green Honda that she drove two hours down to Jersey just the day before, and the two hours to and from Jersey, two days before that and in fact, the same green Honda that she has been driving for almost seven years.
“What? I didn’t know it had white seats,” she lamely explained later.
(It doesn’t.) Mama has a vision problem.
I had to stop at a Citibank ATM to get cash…for our charity work later that day…sadly, this would actually turn out to be true. Stupid jack.
I hobbled out of the car, in my black jeans, green Scrabble sweatshirt, and black coat. I got the curb when I realized I didn’t have my ATM card. I stood there for a few minutes rummaging through my pockets looking for it, when these sixtyish black women, wearing their Sunday best came over to ask if I was okay.
I said yes, but they remained skeptical.
“Are you sure, honey? Do you need money?”
Oh dear lord, how much must go horribly wrong for a corporate attorney to be reduced to panhandling on the streets of Atlantic City?
We were supposed to leave Jersey by three, but…um…some of the volunteer work just took longer than expected, so…we stayed. And stayed. And stayed some more.
Finally, I put my foot down.
“We have to get back to New York for that event we’re co-sponsoring.”
(Some interfaith thing that Karol and I do for the Jews and Christians once a month. Oh, and Alceste.)
We hit the road, and once again Karol was torturing us with music.
“Come on Karol, skip this song…KJ said this is the worst band EVER!” I said hoping that if the request came from our guest, it would have greater sway.
“Wait? Did I say that,” KJ asked, “Damn, I thought I was just thinking that.”
“That’s it. Now, you guys are going to get a Guns N Roses marathon.”
Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.
We shuddered in silence through Jersey, until we got to New York, as we crossed the Verrazano Bridge, I pointed to the prominent white tower in the distance and told KJ that I went to high school right there.
“And there’s a song I always sing when we pass it!”
“Nooooo,” Karol screamed.
“Oh come on, I want to hear the song,” KJ said.
“No, you really don’t,” Karol cautioned.
“Hey, it’s my first Karol/Dawn AC trip, I want the full experience. Maybe I will say no to the song the next time, but I want to hear it.”
And this is why KJ is now our favorite.
And yes, he loved the song and now even requests it randomly when we’re not even anywhere near my high school.
So, shut up.
We got back to New York in plenty of time for our conference, of course, for some reason Karol had to stop at her mom’s house to drop off her AC laundry.
So, we were late for the conference.
But it was a fun trip and even though I will not be going to Jersey this week, no matter what Karol says, I look forward to road tripping with KJ again.

Karol: Are we stopping on the way there?
Me: A truck hit us Wednesday and we didn’t stop, what could we possibly be stopping for today?

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - As the writers strike nears the end of its second week with no resolution in sight, the most dreaded phrase in Hollywood is making the rounds: force majeure.

Producer Universal Media Studios on Thursday began notifying the regulars on NBC’s “Bionic Woman,” “The Office” and “30 Rock” that the studio is suspending them on half-pay for five weeks, citing the force majeure provisions in their Screen Actors Guild (SAG) contracts.

Why won’t they settle? WHHYYYYYYYY????

“Your boyfriend’s so weak he needs steroids just to watch baseball.” -Kelly smack talking Jim’s lack of ping pong skillz

I’ve so got to get in on this taking my friends’ mobneys action…maybe a wager to see if I can not watch TV for a month.

Dr. Burke has been shot death. (more…)