New Year's resolutions

As I managed to escape moments after posting the last addendum to my previous post, I never really did get to finish on a thought that began that day. And that would be my New Year's resolutions. Let's go:

1) To stop shopping as a recreational sport. Window shopping, online shopping, whatever - you name it I love it. And C is my partner is crime. And most of the time, nothing comes out of it because I really don't have the cash flow to actually be buying anything. So what's the point in that??? I need to be more productive with my time.

2) To clear up any debts we have left as a result of our move and shopping as recreational sport. Which means I need to go hide in a bunker somewhere until 2009 if we're hoping to see any results.

3) To learn Photoshop. Mostly because I can't wait to clip and post a photo of Zoe Dawg wearing a turban in India, just for laughs.

4) To get back on skis this winter. Seriously, I need to break this streak or else I run the risk of doing the involuntary Triple Lundy somersault that I did in Crested Butte one time after a long dry spell. While I'm sure bystanders remember it fondly as "Remember the time that chick just went flyyyyyinnng over that mogul like a cannonball shot?", my back has still not forgiven me for that.

5) To wish all of you a happy new year. There, done.

Post-Christmas mini-hangover and sleep deprivation diary

9:42 AM - I am one of those sad suckers at work today, watching the tumbleweeds go by. Everyone is either sleeping off last night's drinks or eating bon bons in bed, as far as I'm concerned.

10:04 AM - A From LA is in town, hence the mirth and merriment that kept me out past my self-imposed 11:30 curfew and had me holding up my finger, saying "Just one more". Twice. At Niagra Bar of all places.

10:51 AM - I love how I'm on the phone with my mother and she starts launching into a big diatribe about my relationship with my brother. But after I tell her this is not a conversation to have while I'm at work, she keeps repeating back to me "Like I said, this is not a conversation to have while you're at work". Grrr.

11:41 AM - As we're watching my parents' neurotic dog, Jaxon, while they're away, we've been overly concerned with his well-being. He's depressed, he misses them, and being a country dog, he is very confused as to life in the big city. So his toilet habits are serious indicators of his well-being during his stay with us. This is where shrubbery comes in, essential in order for him to successfully execute. So we patiently search this morning at 2 am, for that one perfect shrub in the caverns of Wall Street. And thankfully, we do eventually find it.

Which is why my last recollection as I fall asleep is C saying to me, with his eyes closed and a smile on his face: "I'm happy because it was good to hang out with those guys again. And I'm happy because Jaxon pooped."

1:50 PM - I'm back from an extra-long lunch break that included stops to the library and checking out the post-Christmas sales, all necessary to recharge my tired batteries. And not one e-mail, not one stinking e-mail. Remind me why the office is open again? Thus, the plotting to sneak out early begins.

2:32 PM - Sending e-mails to myself has not improved aforementioned situation.

3:07 PM - Did I mention the in-laws are coming tomorrow? And did I mention that originally they were talking about doing Times Square for New Year's?

Oh. Yes.

Thankfully, we were able to convince them that this was an irrefutably bad idea, well in advance, but I could never perfectly sum up in words why. But now, having come up a well-put summation of those feelings, I can present this to you feel and vindicated. This, my friends, is why.

And this totally has nothing to do with the year I was mistaken for a prostitute by a tourist while I was trying to find my friends at some bar in the area. Because obviously, a short dress and knee-high boots on New Year's Eve can only mean just one thing.

Calling Savion Glover

So this past weekend, I’m watching an old Alanis music video. No, I wasn't breaking out the plaid and thinking about dreading my hair; the only reason I’ve just discovered this video is because there’s a Six Degrees of Separation thing going between this music video from the 90s and the movie I Am Legend, which we just saw on Friday night. Don’t ask.

So….anyway! I’m watching this video, getting really into the vibe (and what are you doing to do about it?) when I notice something which I had hoped was banned around the start of the millennium. And that would be The Tap. Do you know what I’m talking about? It’s those tap-dancing sounds employed in videos and films when they're trying to convince you that the people are actually tap dancing. Here…a perfect case in point – Paula Abdul in "Opposites Attract" at timestap 2:57 when she does that little pas de deux with Mr. Cartoon Cat:



Now we all know that cats can't tap. But we do know Paula Abdul can. Paula has made abba-solutely, pah-ha-sitively sure that we know she can tap. See the beginning of "Straight Up", hence a surge in the rate of broken toes in 1989 (including mine) from little girls thinking they could be anything close to the tap-dancing fool that was Paula Abdul. Hey, that rhymes!

So why is The Tap being employed here? To make it more…tappier? Paula Abdul don’t need no help tapping!

Fast forward to the Alanis video. She can dance, right? Considering all the moaning and groaning she does when she sings, literally and figuratively, so heavy was she with the philsophical musings on life and love, I’d never have guessed she was that light on her feet. I’m suitably impressed. And then at the timestamp of 1:27?

I present to you The Tap



At first, I’m looking over my shoulder like “Where’s that sound coming from?” And then it’s like “Aw, man! Is that The Tap?” The whole thing just becomes so fake. Faker than fake. Because you can't just pretend to tap! You must feeeeeel the tapper tapping, seeeeee the tapper tapping!

If The Tap is the audio version of steroids, that would make Alanis Morrissette the Jose Canseco of tap dancing.

Balducci's = Doesn't get the several thousand years old memo

Just in case you were wondering, this is a promotion not customary for the Festival of Lights.

I don't know what's funnier - this or the fact that the blogger who stumbled upon this has now turned this into a cottage industry replete with shirts and magnets on Cafe Press. No wait, the funniest would be the people who actually click to BUY the things. Click here to read more.

Happy Hanukah

Xena Dawg joins me, her owner J, and our fellow Chosen Peoples in wishing you a Happy Hanukah.

S.O.S. from M

"I work with crazy people"