Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

I just (blush) used the ladies' room, and what to my wondering eyes did appear but cigarette ash on the toilet seat. What, are we in an all-girls high school in 1975, sneaking ciggies in the loo? How strange. I work with all adults (minus a few interns here and there)... why would anyone smoke in the bathroom? (Why would anyone smoke at all is a more appropriate question.) I mean, I know the heat index is 108 degrees or something, but don't put your ash where I put my ass. Okay?

Now this is so unpretty.

I got this little gem in my inbox a few minutes ago, and thought I'd share it with the world. Well, with So Unpretty's readers, at least. The weirdest part is that that girl looks familiar.

Ode to coconut soup.

My pal ChiCho loves Thai coconut soup. Unfortunately, soon after she introduced me to this liquid delight, our favorite Thai place closed. But joy! NotoriousALG and I found a new place-- a place I had always ignored right behind my house -- where the Thai coconut soup is delish. It's white. It's sweet. It has veggies. It makes my nose run. And it gives me hansa (that's Thai for Supreme Happiness). It's so good, that I brought myself on a date there last night. I settled in with my book and my bowl of white chickeny goodness and had a great time.

The only thing that ruined my night was when the drunk table of ten next to me started talking about placentas and umbilical cords. So unpretty.

Oh joy. Julie's back.

I have moved seats in my office, from the kid's row to sorority row. My office is not quite a single office, as I share a half wall. Consequently, my new neighbor and I hear everything in each other's office.

I just laughed out loud because I heard her saying, "Agent. AGENT." Oh, the sweet memories of Julie from Amtrak...

I Guess I Can't Call THEM Indian-Givers.

I am listening to classical music while on hold right now with the United States Internal Revenue Service. Why, you ask?

Well, a few weeks ago, I received a lovely $1100 refund check in the mail, noting that I had overpaid my taxes and was due a refund. Like any good cynic, I held onto it so my father (a C.P.A) could look at it and tell me whether or not it was legit. Visions of purses, sandals, sundresses, and a new roof danced in my head and I was never happier. It was like money growing on a tree, which we know is not possible. RIGHT?

My father said it was legit. And I cashed it.

I received a letter today that they (being the IRS) made a mistake and I have to send it back. This is the worst feeling I have ever felt. I am so sad. So sad.

I hate them. Indian-givers.

Teenage affection cost me $4.02

This morning I was shlepping myself to work and I got into one of those uncomfortable moments when you find yourself walking at the same speed, in the same direction, with a bunch of people. This was a group of teenagers. Well, I hear some footsteps catching up behind me and I feel a sense of foreboding. I knew something embarrassing was about to happen. SO. I hear "Hey Baby. You wanna hang out later?" My would-be suitor was definitely not old enough to drink, maybe not even drive.

Beanorama: "I think I'm too old for you."
Young Buck: "WHAT? I'm seventeen, baby."
Beanorama: "I'm too old for you."
Young Buck: "Age ain't nuthin' but a number, baby. How old are you?"
Beanorama: "Too old for you."
Young Buck: "Well, maybe we'll hang out later then."

To escape the Young Buck and his seven 15-year-old pals, I had to escape into Dunkin' Donuts and buy a bagel and medium iced coffee, totaling $4.02. (By the way, iced coffee is a full dollar more than hot, isn't that weird?)

I guess $4.02 is a small price to pay considered I could be paying out the wazoo for legal fees for dating a kid almost ten years younger than me. So unpretty!

But then I saw an overweight man in women's yoga pants, and I got cheered up.

Pseudo Celeb Sighting

anyone who knows me can vouch for the fact that i am pseudo celeb stalker. who do i mean by pseudo celebs? you know 'em, and probably hate 'em. they're any cast member of the Real World, local/national newscasters, anyone from E! or VH1, and yes, also reality show contestants...

well, now. who do you think i was BLESSED (and yes, i think it was divine) to see and practically RUN INTO yesterday on 17th Street?

hold on to your skirts....HEIDI BRESSLER FROM THE APPRENTICE, SEASON ONE!!!

i know many of you are reading this with confusion...Unusual, are you serious? a). how the hell did you recognize a D lister from like 5 years ago and b). why the f do you care? the answer to both of your questions is simple my lovely lamb chops...i am the most star-struck, impressionable, tv junkie STALKER you'll ever come across. when i saw Joe from the Real World Miami in a bar in NYC, i nearly died and the people i was with were so embarrassed by my behavior that i was shunned for the rest of the night.

so, do you want to know what she was wearing? of course you do or you would have stopped reading this post by now...she had on a silver tank with black long shorts, CLEAR platform slide stillettos, silver shades, and she was yapping on a silver razor to someone about business. flung on her left arm was a Louie satchel and flung on her right was a DKNY shopping bag. i noted that she was very tan and very small and very annoyed with me and the two people i was with---we dared to cross her path and nearly run her over!

i loved every second of it (it was a total of 7, and that includes watching her walk around the corner as i stood stunned, basking in her pseudo star glow.)

stalking pseudo celebs---so unpretty, but so fun!

I'm the next Craig LaBan.

I think it's a problem that I go out to eat so much that I start to notice what ingredients are en vogue and which ones are out. so much so, that i actually mentioned this in passing to a woman who works at a big-time magazine, and she passed the info on to their food editor. gosh, i hope i'm not a behind-the-times food dope. but here are my little baby thoughts on menu items:

I keep seeing pistachios instead of breading on fish. Honey keeps showing up--maybe a sexy alternative to sugar? Seared watermelon is all the rage in restaurants and on cooking shows (sounds nasty to me). Beets, that I love so much, appear in salads on the fanciest of menus despite how "dirt cheap" I am told that they are. I used to see my beloved artichokes and my not-so-beloved figs everywhere, but not so much anymore.

No wonder I never have money at the end of each paycheck. Maybe I should cook at home more. But I think we've gone over how difficult that would be. Eh.

"Steadfast" is code for "pigheaded."

sometimes beanorama likes to bring politics into so unpretty, and today is one of those times. i just don't understand how a president can decide that it's better to throw away unused embryos from fertility clinics than to use them to save and improve lives through stem cell research. no matter your take on death penalty, abortion, whatever, his actions prove he has a blind adherence to some stubborn doctrine. studies overwhelmingly show that the parents/donors of those embryos would prefer their unused embryos go to scientific research than be tossed. studies overwhelmingly show that adopting parents prefer to adopt already-born children that have no other place to go, rather than to use the leftover embroyos of other would-be parents. for bush to pretend all the millions of undeveloped embroys sitting unused in fertility clinics are better served in a freezer than in research just proves that he is so unpretty. ugh.

everyone knows someone affected by a disease that could be helped by stem cell research. once he's out, the next guy (or gal) will pass this measure. why is he so pigheaded?

Top Ten Scariest Movies Ever

i was inspired by fellow blogger and patriarch of whatthefphilly.blogspot, the great Mr. Tone Loc, to come up with a top ten movie list...however, where his list made him laugh, my list made me scream. i don't know how many unpretty readers actually enjoy the horror genre, but i do very much, and who we kidding? its all about me...

10. The Shining
Would you believe I watched this movie for the first time while babysitting a bratty 7 year old in Jersey? as if that's not scary enough, right? his mother actually recommended that i put it on to get him to go to bed (because it terrified him so much that he would voluntarily stop watching TV and go to sleep....go figure.) well, it succeeded in getting him out of my hair, but it also scarred the living shit out of me. RED RUM! RED RUM! (that's murder spelled backwards for all of you who don't already know)

9. Scream
This was an awesome flick. Drew Barrymore's cameo was off the hiz-ook and i fell in love with the Johnny Depp look alike (skeet Ulrich) who also happened to be one of the two killers. i obviously am turned on by homicidal maniacs.

8. Signs
Seeing this movie in the theater, in the actual town it was shot and set in, was so surreal and creepy. and aliens have always scared me to death. i have clear memories of watching Unsolved Mysteries when i was an wee laddy and i believed with my whole heart that my neighbor was an alien spy.

7. The Amityville Horror
This movie really isn't all that scary, but the book it was based on was terrifying. Also, its branded as a "true story". i'm such a sucker for that.

6. Nightmare on Elm Street
Freddy Fucking Krueger. Dying in your dreams. Enough said.

5. The Blair Witch Project
Its a joke now, but if you think back to the first week this movie opened in the indie theaters, it was scary as all get it out. this was another movie which was rumored to be a true story. i screamed like Michael Jackson on fire when i saw it for the first time.

4. Rosemary's Baby
Mia Farrow is already pretty scary, but give her a psycho haircut and impregnate her with satan's spawn? mortifying!

3. The Birds
A Hitchcock classic. and a fun fact for you: The star, Tippy Hedren, is Melanie Griffith's mother. that explains alot about Melanie Griffith.

2. Silence of the Lambs
Best line EVER: Says a crazy, serial killing tranny to a hysterical victim he's imprisoned in a well: "It puts the lotion in the bucket!"

1. The Exorcist
The subliminal messages in this movie are enough to fuck with you for the rest of your life. and that crucifixion masturbation scene? pure terror.

Let me know if you agree/disagree/could care less.

Do You Want Heavy Starch? Or Just an Insult?

I have been going to the tailor/dry cleaner across the street from my office for a solid four years. The shop is run by two charming women, who I believe to be sisters. That certainly does not impact the tale I am about to weave, but it's interesting nonetheless. (Sidenote: I am waiting at work for a news release and there is no end in sight to the wait.)

Anyway, the other day I brought my stuff over and my wallet lay open on the counter. "IS THAT YOU??!?!" the one woman asks, motioning to my drivers license. I nod my head yes and she erupts into laughter. "YOU LOOK LIKE A MAN!!!" she giggles, clutching her side. I stammer, "I had my hair back in the picture," turn on my heel, and leave. I don't think I look like a man in my picture. In fact, I really like it.

I was aghast. Yes, aghast.

But today, her sister redeemed herself and said I was nice.

An End To Dreads

dreads. in my mind only meant for two people: lenny kravitz and bob marley.

so you can imagine my angst when i saw a waitress sporting them at dinner tonight. my disgust was two fold. the first fold being that she was NOT lenny kravitz and the second fold, she was serving food.

these dreads were the dirtiest, longest, most poorly kept dreads i had ever seen. time and time again i watched her flip them to the left, flip them to the right, shake 'em back, shake 'em forward; it was like she was doing the macarena with her hair. finally, right at the food counter (insert gag here) she gathered a clump of them up with her bare hands and tied them into an obnoxious knot on top of her head. she reminded me of the posers i went to art school with not so many moons ago. having these dreads means nothing to her other than trying to prove she is different, indie and fringe. i bet you money that a year from now, i will see her with a mohawk or better yet, she'll dye it all pink and cut her bangs to within a centimeter of her scalp.

now i'll admit, my hairstyles in the past have once or twice been influenced by a trend or celebrity...ok, ok, i did the "shannon-dougherty-90210-brenda" cut and i TRIED to do the "jennifer-anniston-friends-rachel" cut. but i was also a kid. i've grown, i've matured, i've realized the error of my ways.

now that i'm a woman, i just steel them off my mother. just kidding; that won't happen for at least 15 more years.

dreads in the food industry...so unpretty.

Traffic Reporter Gone Wild

rumor has it that a certain traffic reporter which will go nameless (thank you beanorams for being my conscious) leads an unbelievably exciting life when he is not reporting on the most boring and meaningless aspect of the news (honestly, do you even watch the traffic report; and if so, do you really retain the random 30 seconds of speed talk and animated maps and apply it to your driving that day? i don't think so.)

my sources (and by sources i mean a 26 year-old grandpop who happens to be gay) has witnessed this traffic reporter on many occasions being very drunk, and very wild at numerous gay bars/clubs in town...apparently, he likes to tear it up when he's not warning us of a ten minute delay on the blue route.

i believe my source because this guy's been in the news more than once for his antics. in march he was cuffed and detained by police in a parking garage for fighting with two women who had been making homophobic remarks to him and his boyfriend. and then very recently, he was evicted from his house for not paying the rent.

looks like this party boy is philly's own p.o.b. (pat o'brien)...

why does that make me proud? so unpretty.

And that's okay conmigo.

marketers say those of us in the 18-35 demographic are growing more and more immune to advertising in all its forms, and that we have no brand loyalty. considering i'll buy whatever's cheapest at the mo, i agree for the most part. however, i've always had a soft spot in my heart for tylenol, especially because my pops put the fear of god in my about asprin and rhys syndrome. well, now a tylenol commercial has cemented my loyalty. in it, a very sincere ceo says if you are going to take more than the reccommended dosage, she prefers that you just don't take tylenol. and she's ok with that.

i can't stand it when people take more than the reco'd dosage of any over-the-counter med. it's so ridiculous. what, your headache is worse than all headaches the scientists who created the drug had accounted for? come on. it's wasteful and so american. and almost everybody does it.

i'm getting all hot and bothered right now and need to relax. beanorama, it's not that big a deal.

anyway, go tylenol! you rule!

You're My Best Friend.

My dear, wonderful, best friend in life has turned me into a little bit of a freak. She makes weird noises when she wants something to drink, we sometimes tap-dance in public places, and launch into the Olympic Games processional song when we are handing something to a friend. It's all very strange, really. Among the strangest things she/I do, is grab something we are so happy to have and say, "I love you, (insert object name here)! You're my best friend!"

Just this morning, I went to get coffee with the New Girl in my Office and I was so excited to have my latte, that I actually kissed the side of the cup and yelled out loud, "I LOVE YOU, COFFEE! You're my best friend!" And New Girl stared at me like I had a million heads. "You're strange," she said. Yesterday, she told me I use the word "amazing" too often. And the creme de la creme was New Girl witnessing me sing to our boss , "KEEP ON ROCKIN' IN THE FREE WORLD!"

Hmmm. I thought about the fact that a complete stranger who I work with in a professional environment probably has an opinion of me that I am absolutely strange. And I kind of don't care. I would be a liar if I said it didn't bother me a little, but it's kind of what has made me me. A part of the reason why my best pal and I are two peas in a very strange pod. But it made me appreciate our friendship a lot more. Tear.

Ya know what? I might just find my best pal and make up a new song about New Girl. And add it to our CD of top hits, including: "Be a Bat Boy" and "Chicken Noodle Soup." "Chicken Noodle Soup" got us both detention in high school. But it was well-worth it.

Rock your momma.

without hitting dictionary.com, without beseeching google, please just take a guess here: what in the h is the definition of "rockabilly" ?? all the cool kids-- well, people in the media-- like to use that term and i nod along, like a am rockabilly myself. but in reality, i'm not sure WHAT it is.

hint: when i put rockabilly into google image, this photo is what came up.

so please, don't cheat. just give some rockabilly clarification.

I Bought You a Yuengling, Can I Send You Some Slides?

I do not really, truly, go on dates. I especially do not partake in the land of blind dating. But when a particulary interesting friend of my cousin's starting emailing me and seemed not terrible, I indulged his invitation to meet for a drink.

It was about 900 degrees when I met him last week, but I could overlook that fact when he was funny and actually seemed to be normal.

And then...he morphed into The Toucher. Much to the chagrin of my friends and family, I am not big on touching. "I just don't like to be touched," is something that comes out of my mouth on a frequent basis. My best friend will often utter "Ew" if I throw her off with a random, explosive hug. And my father referred to me last week as an Ice Princess (not accurate in the least) because of my aversion to physical contact. I just don't like UNINVITED touching.

Anyway, said date would use any opportunity to touch. "Need a beer?" (insert shoulder grab and subsequent back grope) "Oh my God, you're so funny!" (double shoulder grab and light shake) And after two people commented that we made a cute couple? He full-out rubs my thigh and tries to interlock his fingers with mine.

Needless to say, I was a little shocked and awed by all this. We had an amicable goodbye and I did not hear from him this week. Until yesterday. And I think I may have absolutely, positively reached the bottom of the barrel.

He sent me Powerpoint presentations to share with the community relations department of my company and of my mother's. Part of his job involves selling ad space and I apparently seemed well-connected.

I almost died. And the funniest thing was, he didn't even really try to shroud his intentions. It was like, "Hey, how are you? Hope all is well...sell, sell, sell, cash, money, h0s!"

On the upside, the slides weren't animated. That would've been completely barfy.

Where? Rittenhouse Square: Part Deux.

last night, as friends chicharamboni and unusual suspect went to the home of the oldest 26-year-old in the world to play with his dogs, i was stuck in the tundra of my office writing letters to 60-year-old meat-punching celebrities. not as wildly exciting as it sounds, believe me.

anyway, to treat myself, when i got back to my 2-by-2 foot apartment i packed a delicious picnic to enjoy with a book (middlesex) in rittenhouse square, as extolled by unusual suspect here. as i ate my farfalle-tomato-mozzerella-cilantro salad concoction (i know, cilantro was an unusual choice but i had no basil) and read my book on hermaphrodites, i was constantly distracted by the folks that frequent the square. bike couriers with big dogs and bigger tattoos, ladies who lunch with little dogs and big botox addictions, horny homeless men/horny old men (sometimes i'm not sure which is which), trash can bands and breakdancers, black-glasses-framed art students and more.

i find it strange that of the five original squares in william penn's plan for a greene countrie town, rittenhouse is the most diverse. city hall is filled with criminals (the politicians) and the people getting tried for crimes in that center square. franklin square used to house the homeless, but will now attract tourist families in search of mini golf and soft pretzels. logan square (circle) is a pass-through for business suits, people walking to the art museum, and some lucky youths who like to swim in the fountain. washington square is home to its quiet and genteel residents, plus anyone who stumbles out of old city on their way to a starr restaurant--any starr restaurant will do.

but rittenhouse, in the heart of one of the most desirable neighborhoods in america, is so great because it is so diverse. it's NOT just the ladies who lunch with their annoying dogs. it's not just men with pinkie rings. it's not just penn students or prostitutes or business suits on their lunchbreak. it's everyone and it is so NOT unpretty.

that's my love song for the day. goodbye.

How sweet it is?

last night i was the unwitting victim of a cruel social ill: the lookaway. without naming names, i'll tell you that i was at a social event--a fashion show, if you will--and saw a young acquaintence who gave me the dreaded lookaway. burrrn.

some background: i have been to lunch with this gal-about-town. i helped throw her a very classy soiree. (i never got a thank you note, though that graciousness and charm is supposedly what she's all about.) i have protected her email address from many who have asked for it. i have spoken with her on the phone.

then bam: there it was-- eye contact, then the head swivel. in my shock and passive agression, i continued staring and smiling and raised my hand in greeting until i got a havehearted wave in return.

what bad form. i honestly believe saying a genuine hello to someone you know, even if you don't know them that well, puts you in such a better light. the lookaway is cowardly...and so unpretty.

Crash Boom Bang...God, is that you?

can someone tell me what the hell happened to the city's weather pattern yesterday and last night? dealing with heat so thick and steamy that it felt like i was standing behind bus everywhere i went yesterday was hard enough.

but then it came. THE STORM. with the works too---hail, thunder & lightening, hard rain, sideways rain, even the rain that seemed to jump right up from beneath you [insert forrest gump twang here].

i can't say i wasn't warned about this...and it wasn't by Glenn "Hurricane" Schwartz either.

a crazy tranny i ran into while leaving work had warned me that the excessive heat was really caused by GOD'S wrath at President Bush for starting the war with Iraq. if you've read my profile, you know i likes the crazies, but she really freaked me out...mostly because i am not even sure what she was...i treated her like i do all crazies; i completely agreed with her and awkwardly tried to excuse myself from the conversation...its funny how i always feel the need to be polite to crazies and not regular people in general (i will think nothing of not holding the elevator for someone who is frantically screaming "hold that please!"). am i to believe this crazy tranny? ...that the fucked up weather is directly related to our country's poor leadership and appalling human rights policies?

where the hell is El Nino when you need him.

A partner for a pork chop.

last night i hoofed it in the hundred-degree heat to trader joe's to make myself a grown-up meal, a square meal with sides and a big hunk of protein. however, i realized it's pretty damn hard to cook small enough portion sizes when you are cooking for one. do you cook the whole thingy of meat, or break it up?do you cook the whole recipe, even though all recipes are built for 4-5 people? do you refrain from snacking so by the time the whole she-bang is out of the oven, you are still hungry? cooking for one is so unpretty. that's why last night i ended up eating soy ice cream out of the container in front of access hollywood.

(that is, until i got the call to go to alma de cuba where i entered the restaurant to have free brazilian alcohol literally shoved down my throat until i played bongos with the band. but that's another story. stories like that are also probably why i am still cooking for one. feh.)

I'm just gonna go ahead and blame Bush for this.

this morning i saw something on my walk to work that really got me hot and bothered (or maybe that was the 101-degree heat): a huge-ass Hummer emblazoned with the logo of the national guard. now, i am all for servicemen and women doing their thang. but do we really need to have a gas-guzzling tank of a vehicle powering through the streets of philadelphia on what i imagine to be the taxpayers' dime? (i could be wrong, but whatevs.) it just seemed like an obnoxious, completely ignorant, who-cares-about-the-environment-we-are-the-NATIONAL-GUARD thing to do. there is a lot of violence in philadelphia...but not much in center city, and nothing a painted hummer will save me from.

and to make it worse, the two young kids in the vehicle were NOT in uniform. and the girl was talking on one of those annoying nextels that foreces everyone to hear the conversation.

like most things that bother me, like expensive pennies, i'm going to go ahead and blame mr. bush. anti-environment advertising vehicles? so unpretty.

In One Word: Amazing

so, this past thursday night i was finally able to cross off one of the items on my "MUST DO BEFORE YOU DIE" checklist.

i saw Madonna live in concert. and now i am whole.

as long as i can remember i have loved her. not just her music, but the whole package. (please see unpretty's april archives and read "I HEART MADONNA" for a more in depth proclamation of my love and respect for the material girl)

i finally know why she has been around for 20 years: she is an unbelievable performer and entertainer. every song, every wardrobe change, the stage, the dancers, even her hair was perfect. and for two solid hours she had me and thousands of people on their feet dancing. five stars, A+, off the charts and amazing.

in case you are wondering what the other "TO DOs" on my list are:

1. go to south africa and swim with a great white (in an anti shark cage of course)
2. take a hot air balloon ride over the coasts of ireland
3. be a contestant on any televised game show
4. go to the Olympics (winter or summer)
5. go to a fashion show in NYC

Ode to the next Yankee Candle scent.

now that Dr. Whiz has gone to the dark side, i can feel free to wax philosophical about the mundane with another ode... (Dr. Whiz hates the odes). last night i had a crab-and-asparagus flan at new hipster hangout bar ferdinand in no. libs, and it got me to thinking of the joys of asparagus. the stalk, the leafy top, the delicious buttery hollandaise sauce... it's just a damn good veggie all around.

the best part though, only can be enjoyed with the lucky citizens with a very special gene: the asparagus pee gene. not everyone has it, but those who do get to bite, bite, chew, chew, swallow, swallow, digest... then pee, pee and whiff, whiff.

the human body freaks me out.

1, 2, 3, 4. I Declare a Blog WAR!

Our blog skills here at Unpretty have been challenged. Someone, let's call him "Anton," has declared himslef a blogger, and he has invited another novice - let's call her "Cassie" - to assist him in his futile attempt to rule the blogosphere. The duo has claimed that they will reign supreme over the much-read and widely-adored Unpretty, writing us off as an easy defeat. We will not stand idly by and let this occur. They do not possess the desire and the dedication that the Unpretty team has shown as an innate characteristic. Will you add to your blog every day? Will you declare humorous occurrances as "posts" before you are even finished laughing at them? Will you sneak to your computer in the middle of the night to write about avacodos, dog medication or misplaced apostrophes? You might as well wave the white flag now.



www.whatthefphilly.blogspot.com

See how they play.

add one kimmel center, one shoe-less bassist, one dreadlocked bongoist, two blind singers from mali, two free tickets, six beers (three apiece), one beanorama, one dr. whiz, and a dash of butt-shaking, and you get yourself a great night out in philadelphia with amadou and mariam. thanks, dr. you're groovy.

Equality for the sexes.

since i posted that scandalous picture of anne hathaway, i thought i'd give the ladies something to look at as well. thank you to notoriousalg, for emailing me this photo. viva italia is right! i love hot men in tighty undies.

except when they are grey and smell like rugby, but that's another story.

The Ab Crunch 5000

It takes hard work to keep her "dancer's body" lean and mean...and an annoying salesman, who points out to Beanie all of the benefits of using the Ab Cruch 5000.

Heat Makes People Volatile

Overheard this morning while walking to work...

Girl to Guy: "Want to walk to the bank at lunch?"

Guy to Girl: "No. It's humid as fuck."

well, said Guy, well said.

here's to the most humid and unpretty hair day of the summer so far.

The devil wears big jugs.

so, i watched the devil wears prada last night. yes, the book was sort of dumb (in my opinion). the movie was cute in a cute-and-silly way. but what really impressed me was anne hathaway's boobs. who knew? were they the co-stars in the princess diaries?

one thing i still don't understand is that there is no way each elias-clark/conde nast staffer can have such fab-o clothes. not everyone at runway/vogue can get free chanel, can they? and they are journalists, with journalists' salaries. how can they afford all that tom ford? can someone shed some light on this conundrum?

Is that a 3rd leg?

i grew up with two sisters. over the years i've had 4 female cats. i went to an all-girls' grade-school and high-school, lived in all-girl halls the first two years of college and with all girl roommates the second two. i picked english, a major with mostly females, and now i am in a female-populated profession.

so now that my sis and bro-in-law saw a little peeny on the ultrasound... what do i do? i know nothing about boys! but i'm more than happy to learn on this little on.

any ideas for names, let us know. because my bro-in-law's suggestions of "vladimir" is so unpretty.

All Hail Miss Waterworks!

Well, as my best pal has been singing the praises of squash and ginger-infused chicken, I have been crying my *ss off at work. They hired someone new to take over my role so I can move into something "bigger and better," but it hasn't been defined and I feel like a lost little kitten who's lost her mittens.

The powers that be posted the announcement while I was at lunch. I get back to my desk and read it and TEARS! TEARS! TEARS! Then my boss asks me if I am ok about my identity crisis and TEARS! TEARS! TEARS! It's the worst thing I've done in awhile. My boss even said, "This has to stop." Not good.

I know this much is true...my mascara is most certainly not waterproof. I am ugly when I cry. My crying is terribly embarrassing...shaky voice, hiccups, clipped syllables. It ain't pretty. So unpretty? Uh huh.

I will never be a CEO. I cry at work too much. And I would most certainly stink at poker.

Prrr.

much better. the chicken was better than it was last night. plus, i got to check on the status of my two-inch squash, plus deposit a big $33 check. now i'm rolling in the dough. amazing what some food can do for my disposition.

Growl.

i've been in meetings leading up to lunch, the whole time day dreaming about running home to eat my leftover ginger-infused chicken dish. then... someone tells me i can't leave the office because everyone in my department is gone. i have low blood sugar! low patience! high hunger and irritation levels! being told not to eat to stay in the office? so unpretty.

(i'm immature, i know. i should just suck it up. so i've been eating twizzlers off a co-worker's desk to stay sane.)

No-Tell Hotel

I work in a hotel. I know that may be hard to understand, but half of the building is a hotel and the other half is the corporate headquarters of the company for which I work. At the bottom of the elevators is a woman's bathroom that I use from time to time.

The hotel -- one of the best in the country -- is located in an urban area so stragglers have a tendency to use the facilities, as it is right off a main road. It is not uncommon to go into the bathroom and find people asleep on the floor of the handicapped stall. And honestly, I think it's smart. It's so warm in the bathroom and there is free coffee for hotel guests a few feet away. Whenever I find visitors asleep, I let them be.

Today, however, I was shocked to walk into the bathroom and see a full-out Chi Chi's-esque sombrero at the feet of the woman using the stall next to me. When she exited the stall, she was in a completely normal outfit, but washed her hands and put her sombrero back on. Then she exited the bathroom and walked back outside.

Bizarro files. This weather stinks. I miss the beach already. Is anyone at work?

Happy Birthday America

how do you celebrate america's birthday? if you're anything like me you're looking at the three Fs: food, family, and full frontal nudity.

ok, i don't really celebrate the 4th in the buff with family but i needed a third F and using the word "fun" was cornier than kelly rippa.

but the first two Fs, for better or worse, is usually what makes up my 4th of july festivities. that and lighting my cigarettes with fireworks. just kidding-smoking is bad for you.

so, what came first? the food or the family? i think having plenty of the one makes the other one bearable (and i bet you can guess which one i am referring to when i say bearable.)

my mouth waters even now when i think about the menu in store...bbq brisket, buffalo wings, deviled eggs, corn on the kob, guacamole and tortilla chips, cucumber salad, and plenty of corona light.

so, at some point tomorrow, i promise to raise my glass to you and wish you a happy 4th, no matter how or with whom you celebrate it. just remember, fireworks are not proper lighting devices-having a nub instead of a hand-so unpretty.

No, There Ain't No Ticks on Me!

ask yourself when was the last time you really pulled a homer simpson...a complete "DOY!" moment...

well, i can unproudly say i did my big blooper two days ago and today i am still paying for it. i really did it this time. i managed to do one of the stupidest things i could ever imagine doing...i poisoned myself.

yep. poisoned. myself. unintentionally of course.

and i did it celebrating the 3rd birthday of my beloved dog. is this karma telling me that bouncing a dog on your lap, singing happy birthday, smiling for pictures and blowing out candles on a doggie cupcake not a good idea? maybe.

the dog i so proudly bounced on my lap like a baby, also happened to have insect & tic repellent all over her back, which i pressed my face and lips upon numerous times while obnoxiously posing for pictures. my dog hated this, but then again, it was all about me anyway. well, she got mommy back alright for the humiliation she had to endure just to get her yummy birthday cupcake. mommy ingested, inhaled and smeared extremely hazardous chemicals all over her dumb face (and let me admit that i knew that she had this all over her back---because i put it there that morning!).

that night (about six hours of wondering why my face and lips had a tingly, cold feeling) i realized what was the cause and immediately consulted the box of K9 Advantix...."do not touch liquid; if you do, immediately wash your hands with soap and warm water for five minutes. if liquid comes in contact with your clothes, take off clothes immediately and wash them. if liquid comes in contact with your face, wash with warm water for 15-20 minutes IMMEDIATELY and call poison control or your doctor."

hmmm. interesting. this stuff which should have IMMEDIATELY been washed off for 15-20 minutes (about 44 gallons of water), i let simmer on my face and lips for a good six hours. i thought i was going to have a heart attack.

incredibly, i survived. however, i now have a wretched sinus infection which i can't help but wonder could be the aftermath of doing such a stupid thing.

poisoning yourself while celebrating your dog's birthday-so unpretty.