Lies! All lies!

Check out those pupils!

2007-10-25T08:17:00.000-04:00

So I'm having a thought - how's about you and me blow this pop stand and mosey on over to Flabbypants? Trying to maintain one blog is tricky enough, but two? People please. Originally the idea was to have a separate place to talk baby (not everybody's interested in my inner workings) but since that's pretty much all I've got going on at the moment, I'm grasping at straws here. (Britney scented ones, natch. Wait, ew.) So yes, while you'll be subjected to numerous pregnancy-induced rants, I promise to write about other things too.

Things like this. (Psst - even through the fake blue contacts, honey, we can tell you're stoned.)

2007-10-17T22:29:00.000-04:00

Um, what the hell happened to Clay Aiken?

Ah, romance.

2007-10-17T09:11:00.000-04:00

Happy anniversary to me! (Er, us. Hi honey.) Yep, the husband and I have been hitched for three solid years now which means... I don't actually know what it means but the traditional gift for this particular milestone is leather, which brings to mind one of two things: tight pants and S&M gear. I'm guessing Mr. Tradition thought things might be getting a little stale around year three.

Because we're us (and it's a Wednesday) we have nothing planned. I'll be working late, eating dinner with the pre-K set. Matt will be doing whatever the hell he does when I'm not around. (Carpentry? Flamenco dancing?) Celebrating mid-week is tough. While it's nice to avoid the cliche (weekends are for rookies), having to work the next morning puts a damper on things. Plus America's Next Top Model is on.

Anybody have any good anniversary stories? Ideas for romantic nights? Let me amend: ideas for romantic nights when you're 32 weeks pregnant, relatively broke, and a little grouchy?

Fame is a bitch

2007-10-15T10:17:00.000-04:00

While I can't say I'm a fan, I've always admired Rose McGowan's look. That whole milky skin/dark hair combo? Totally lush. And aside from that brief period when she went all Christina Ricci with the diet plan, her bod was beyond compare.

And then she went and did this.

According to interviews, she claims she "had" to get a facelift after cutting her eye in a car accident. Granted I didn't go to med school but I have watched enough episodes of House to know that eye surgery should not leave you looking like Joan Rivers. If this is what living in Hollywood does to a person... (Don't get me started on the whole Robert Rodriguez thing.)

I'd never last

2007-10-14T10:59:00.001-04:00

I hated being a waiter. HATED IT. I tried - I really did - working my way through the best chain'straunts Topeka, Kansas had to offer (I still can't go into an Olive Garden without shuddering). That said, I loves a good waiter war story so naturally I'm dying to read Service Included, a new tell-all about life at Per Se. For those not up on the NYC Foodie scene, Per Se is Thomas Keller's swanktastic restaurant in the Time Warner Center. It's known for its over-the-top service and stellar food. I believe it is also one of (if not the) most expensive restaurants in the city, starting at $250 a head.

Needless to say, Per Se trains their waiters well. The author was hired to to be a "back waiter" (a polite term for the slug who brings you water and bread) but she was still required to go through three months of training.

Three months of training. Five days a week. To bring the bread.

I cannot wait to read this book.

Apparently pink hair couldn't handle Bret's "rock and roll" lifestyle...

2007-10-14T10:32:00.001-04:00

Wonder what it takes to be on a reality show? A reality show like, say, Rock of Love 2?

Here ya go...

FYI: Bret and Jes totally broke up

2007-10-09T20:16:00.000-04:00

So here's the problem with trying to maintain a non-pregnancy related blog: I have nothing to talk about. Which, as someone who's concerned about becoming identity-free once she's a parent, is vaguely horrifying. I should be filled with things to say! (I've started a writer's group! The Rockefeller Center ice skating rink opened, regardless of the fact that it was 82 degrees! I recently ate the world's worst almond croissant!) But instead I'm sitting here staring at the screen, wondering if I can possibly squeak out another Rock of Love entry. (Trust me, I so, so could.) This is leading to some serious self-loathing, peeps.

When did I stop caring about my career? Why do I find myself obsessing over baby names and yelling at childrearing books? (The Magical Child anyone?) How can people spend $10,000 a month on a three-bedroom apartment? When did I become boring?

Did I mention that my belly button's about to pop?

Back away from the TV

2007-10-03T08:14:00.000-04:00

Last night I had a dream that I was on a date with Bret Michaels. We were having dinner at the restaurant where my ex used to work so I should have known it was doomed. I had the beet and goat cheese salad. (My subconscious picked out a menu?) He didn't eat his lemon meringue pie. Then I had a challenge - something having to do with football and dogs.

Even in my dream, I thought it was stupid.

File this under GAAAAHHHH!

2007-10-02T09:39:00.000-04:00

West Elm has already put up their Christmas displays.

Comment at will.

Hair-ther

2007-10-02T09:32:00.000-04:00

Ah, Rock of Love. How I'll miss ye.

I was really gunning for a full photo of this thing because it must be seen to be believed. The hair! The dress!

The dress!

Rumor has it they're in the process of casting ROL II. Alas, my beloved Bret won't be participating; looks like they've tapped Nikki Sixx of Motley Crew to fill his faux-alligator shoes. While I'm sure Nikki will attract just as motley a crew (couldn't help it! Couldn't help it!) as Mr. Michaels, I doubt that he'll be able to capture Bandanna Rawk's pitch-perfect blend of sincerity and stupid.

Why hello, soapbox.

2007-09-25T09:07:00.000-04:00

Have any of you heard about that new diet drug Alli? I'm sure you've seen it at drug stores - cute packaging, friendly name. While I've never actually tried anything like that (unless you count Slimfast or those those stupid blue pills for water retention everybody took in high school) if I were to take a diet drug, I'd probably gravitate toward something like Alli. (And yes, I totally thought it was pronounced like "Ali". Vanity, they name is McKinney.) After all, it totally wants to be my friend!

You know where this is going, right?

So the way this drug works is that it blocks the absorption of fat. Which means that the fat is forced to go elsewhere. Like out your butt. Remember Olestra? Alli is Olestra in pill form. Which means, in techo-speak, there will be "treatment effects".

Undigested fat cannot be absorbed and passes through the body naturally. The excess fat is not harmful. In fact, you may recognize it in the toilet as something that looks like the oil on top of a pizza.

Oh.

You may get:

gas with oily spotting

loose stools

more frequent stools that may be hard to control

And my favorite:

You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work

They interviewed a woman on NPR who was taking the drug and asked her if she had experienced any of the so-called "effects". She said that indeed she had. "But I had eaten a big plate of nachos that night so it was probably the cheese that did it."

Here's where I climb up on my Mt. Olympus-sized horse: If you are taking a diet drug, why on earth are you eating a BIG PLATE OF NACHOS? Don't get me wrong, I'm Hypocrite Numero Uno when it comes to all things food related but if someone is desperate enough to ingest (highly suspect) pharmaceutical drugs in order to shed a few, perhaps the nachos should wait. Especially when there's a strong possibility that those nachos will lead to anal leakage.

On a vaguely related note, overheard this bit of brilliance on a crowded subway car yesterday -

"You people better keep pushing in 'cause I've got a BIG ASS."

Genius.

A placeholder

2007-09-21T07:57:00.001-04:00

Sorry, sorry, sorry... Gots the double-punch of late nights/early mornings kicking my ass again. (I thought the 6 am wake ups were supposed to happen after the kid gets here.) There will be blogging this weekend, both here and here. In the meantime, check this out.

And in a related story, cats tend to be covered in fur!

2007-09-12T23:14:00.001-04:00

This from today's Reuter's:

Rich New Yorkers apt to stay, poorer to move: study

NEW YORK (Reuters) - New Yorkers whose annual earnings top $250,000 are among the likeliest to stay in the city, while those who only earn from $40,000 to just under $60,000 are among the most likely to leave, a new study said on Wednesday. Those seeking schools or backyards also tend to move out: 43 percent of the New Yorkers who left had children.

Um, someone needed a study to determine this?

2007-09-11T08:17:00.000-04:00

Aside from Britney's tragic turn at the VMAs (caught it on YouTube but could only bear to watch the first few minutes) it's been a slow week here. Still nursing a bad back, still incubating... I did try a new flavor of Haagen-Dazs - Aztec Chocolate - so that was exciting.

In other words, I need a goddamn hobby.

Writing used to work but now that I can't sit OR stand for more than a few minutes at a time (oh my achin' back! oh my achin' legs!) it's tough to eek out more than the occasional blog entry. Still, I gots to get over it. If Chuck Close can do shit like this with a paintbrush in his mouth, I can do something. Right?

Right?

Until I figure what that is, anybody catch this week's Rock of Love? (I'm talking to you, X.) Say what you will about Bret Michaels (please, say what you will!) but sometimes he utters something so priceless, so breathtakingly absurd, it bears repeating. And repeating and repeating. The topic - strippers:

"See, the thing is, you have to deal with what I call "pole emotions". Meaning, how to get them off that pole - and onto my pole."

Bear in mind that this was said with a completely straight face. Now that, friends, is good television.

Mr. J. Timberlake has also been seen shopping around.

2007-09-06T08:05:00.000-04:00

I've had celebrities on the brain recently, mostly due to the fact that several of them live down the street. If there was any doubt that my formerly rough-and-tumble Hell's Kitchen 'hood is truly swank, take a walk around the block. I've spotted Orlando Bloom more times than I can count (okay, twice) skulking around my favorite Thai place. (Hopefully he ordered something; you could cut yourself on that jawbone. Seriously, dude is weensy.) La Lohan herself is also rumored to be living around the corner although I doubt I'll catch a peek. (Somehow she doesn't seem like the type to shop at Food Emporium.) A grizzled Andrew McCarthy works out at our second floor gym as does Niles Crane (the surprisingly tall David Hyde Pierce), and our building is home to both Grandma AND Grandpa Huxtable. I figure it's just a matter of time before Brad and his brood move in. I'll keep you posted.

This might only be funny to the actors out there...

2007-09-04T09:24:00.001-04:00

So we've all seen this video, right? The one where Miss South Carolina makes a total asshat out of herself on national television? I'll admit that I have a pronounced prejudice against the undereducated and overly tanned so watching this ridiculous, Southern, most-likely-Republican beauty queen go down in flames was a bit of a dream come true.

Then I overheard this conversation between a well-dressed businessman and a cashier at my local Trader Joe's...

Businessman: "You know what they say, 'To thine own self be true'."
Cashier: "Who said that?"
Businessman (sighing heavily): "It was in the Bible."

Off to the doc.

2007-08-31T09:04:00.001-04:00

So I've returned and all is well, aside from the fact that I've pinched the femoral nerve in my lower back. Big pain. BIG. I've been living on Tylenol and prayer for the past two weeks but the mind-blowing discomfort seems content to stick around. I was hoping I could get insurance to pay for prenatal massage but it's a no-go. They'll pay for a baby nurse if I elect to leave the hospital early but severe back pain? Suck it up, chick.

My trip to St. Louis was lovely. Well, seeing the family was lovely, as was eating my weight in frozen custard. The city itself... Sure I'm a certified, citified snob (organic food! Parabens! SUVs!) but I'm a Midwesterner at heart - which makes the fact that you couldn't pay me to move back to Missouri even sadder. There is much gnashing of teeth over our choice to stay in NYC and I totally understand why, but I can't shake the fact that St. Louis is now the murder capital of the United States. Nobody believes me when I say we feel safer walking around the streets of NYC than I do in Topeka or St. Louis but it's really true. At least here there's always someone around. That someone might be peeing on the street but at least they're there. Granted, there's the nagging threat of getting blowed up, but at least I won't get carjacked. Or shot. Or forced to eat at White Castle.

Anybody know any interesting, affordable college towns?

2007-08-24T08:41:00.001-04:00

I'm heading to St. Louis this weekend for some quality time with the fam. This is the last week I'm allowed to travel (third trimester, here I come) so I figured now was as good a time as any to see my peeps. I plan on eating my way through the city, followed by some eating.

Because the well has run dry

2007-08-22T21:57:00.001-04:00

I'm totally stealing this quiz from the Buffinator.

Four Jobs I Have Had in My Life

Trend forecaster
Product launcher (or whatever you call someone who stands on the street and hands out water)
Reluctant waiter
Dressing room guard (apparently the good folks at Banana Republic didn't trust me around a register)

Four Places I Have Lived:

Topeka, KS
NYC
Chicago, IL
LA

Four of My Favorite Foods:

Ted Drewe's frozen custard
Mashed potatoes (I'll go on record that KFC's kicks ass)
Warm croissants (or any bread product for that matter). Don't forget the butter and homemade jam
Cinnamon rolls with ridiculous amounts of icing and brown sugar

Four Places I'd Rather be Right Now:

In the middle of a lavender field
Depositing residual checks
Playing with a basket of kittens
On the porch at my summer home. In France.

Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over:

Shaun of the Dead
Anchorman
Pretty In Pink. But only the parts with Duckie and Annie Potts. (And to think I once thought Andrew McCarthy was cool...)
A Christmas Story

Four TV Shows I Like to Watch:

So You Think You Can Dance/Top Chef/America's Next Top Model... (the list goes on)
Battlestar Galactica
Deadwood (compliments of Netflix)
30 Rock

Four Websites I Visit Daily:

Four Early Musical Influences:

Classical ballet scores
Mom's Heart and Rickie Lee Jones albums
Free To Be You And Me
Julian Lennon (Oh. God.)

Four places I've been on vacation:

Scotland
Ireland
Florida
Wyoming

Four albums I can't live without:
*After much consideration, there are no albums I can't live without. Let's talk podcasts, shall we?

This American Life
NPR's Good Food
Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me
NPR's Pop Culture

Four magazines I read:

Bust
New York Magazine
Time Out New York
US Weekly (when I can scrounge one up at the gym)

Four colors I like:

Chocolate brown
Orange (any version other than neon)
Tiffany blue
Cherry red

Four Hollywood stars I want to have a drink with:

Will Ferrell
Tina Fey
Katie Holmes (but only if she's rip-snorting drunk so I can get her to squeal about life with Cruise-azy)
Daniel Craig (but only in an imaginary world where I'm single, un-pregnant, and look like Juliette Binoche)

File under WHAT THE FUCK?!

2007-08-21T21:21:00.000-04:00

So I took a little 3-year-old friend of mine to the playground today. It was gray and rainy and he was headed straight to Squirrelsville after being cooped up in the apartment all morning; in other words, it seemed like the perfect day to get absolutely soaking wet. So out we went. It wasn't raining hard, mostly just drizzle, but I'd gone ahead and dressed him for the elements: sweatshirt, rainslicker, rain boots, and an umbrella. He stomped in puddles and ran around in circles and generally had a grand old time being a little kid.

Which is when a worker from the Parks department marched up and threatened to call Child Protective Services on my ass.

I'm going to keep this brief so my blood pressure stays at a reasonable level: Out of the blue this woman stormed up and demanded to know why the kid was out in the rain. "Look at that child! He is SOAKING WET! I can't BELIEVE you are letting a child out in this weather! I could call Child Protective Services on you!"

It went on like that for awhile - her berating me for letting the kid out in the rain, me looking around, wondering who let this crazy woman in - but after her third threat to call CPS, I'd had enough. I would love to say that I took a deep breath, thanked her for her concern, and calmly stated my case. Instead I did what any slightly startled, thoroughly insulted caretaker would do.

I went full throttle bitch on the woman.

To make a loud (but un-profanity strewn! 3-year-old ears present!) story short, I made it quite clear what she could do with her concern. I then told, nay begged, her to place the call to CPS so I could have the satisfaction of listening to them laugh in her face over her claims of abuse. "Some crazy woman is letting a child play in the rain! IN THE SUMMER!"

I'm not going to lie, I've had roughly seven different arguments in my head with this woman. And in each one, she's just about as insane as she was in real life.

Please tell me it's white mink...

2007-08-16T09:20:00.000-04:00

I've had this going through my head for approximately eighty-two hours now:

"Eeeeev-ry ROSE has it's thohn,

Jus' like eeeeev-ry night has it's dohn,

Just' like eeeeev-ry cowboy sings a sad, sa-ahd song,

Eeeev-ry ROSE has it's thohn"

Seriously, it won't leave my brain. 3:30 am, getting up to pee ("Eeeeev-ry ROSE has it's thohn..."), sitting in the park, surrounded by screaming children ("Jus' like eeeev-ry night has it's dohn..."). I blame myself. No one's forcing me to watch Rock of Love with Bret Michaels on VH-1 where this particular ditty is looped non-stop in an attempt to remind viewers that Bret Michaels was once famous, but that doesn't make it any easier to take. (The not-good singing! The unnatural rhyme scheme! The man's obsession with bandanas!) I was walking around the house humming it and torturing the cats (whenever I sing, Val puts her ears flat against her head and gets a look on her face like, "What is that HORRIBLE SOUND?!") which led to a rousing debate between Matt and I over the title for Worst Song Ever Written. While "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" has its problems, Matt pointed out that it's no match for "Unskinny Bop". I hold firm that the WSER, hands down, is George Harrison's "I've Got My Mind Set On You". Get that fucker in your head and it's there for months.

Anyway, WSER. Thoughts?

(X, did you check out the leopard duster on last week's episode? Genius...)

Read me.

2007-08-09T08:46:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned on the sister site, yesterday was a flat mess here in NYC. There was a storm - some rain, a little lightening - and what happened? The entire city shut down. Every single subway line flooded. The busses had lines around the block. Literally. (Taxis? PLEASE.) While I realize our subway system is 75 years old and that I should cut the MTA some slack, I can't help feeling a touch anxious. If we can't handle rain, we sure's as hell can't handle them pesky terrorists.

Which leads me to my latest Thing Alisha Loves:

The Men Who Stare At Goats by John Ronson

"In 1979 a secret unit was established by the most gifted minds within the U.S. Army. Defying all known accepted military practice — and indeed, the laws of physics — they believed that a soldier could adopt a cloak of invisibility, pass cleanly through walls, and, perhaps most chillingly, kill goats just by staring at them. Entrusted with defending America from all known adversaries, they were the First Earth Battalion. And they really weren't joking. What's more, they're back and fighting the War on Terror."

This book is absurd, frightening - and one of the funniest things I've read in my life. It reads quick and extremely witty (the tone is very David Sedaris, which makes the fact that it's non-fiction seem doubly shocking) and I couldn't put it down. A perfect subway read. (Assuming it's, you know, running.)

Things Alisha loves, quickfire edition

2007-08-07T22:45:00.000-04:00

Oh the fun I could have with this, Precious...

Don't get me started...

2007-08-03T08:29:00.000-04:00

My agent called me in to re-sign which was lovely and unexpected, seeing as how I haven't booked anything except a bottom-barrel voiceover in almost a year (and now that I look like I've swallowed a basketball, that doesn't seem liable to change any time soon). I got even more excited when my agent started piling on the sweet talk, whispering how he was "dying to see the bump" and "couldn't wait to see me". Since it's a well-established rule that, aside from bookings, my agents are never excited to see me, I was pretty psyched. I figured maybe this time we'd actually converse, unlike our normal routine. (I wander by his office, he's busy on the phone, I wave sheepishly, he holds up his finger in the universally accepted "Hold on a sec" position, I hover in the doorway, he continues taking calls, I shift uncomfortably, he continues taking calls, I feign interest in the paint job, he continues taking calls... Lather, rinse, repeat. Good times.) I grab a seat and smile at this week's assistants (they rotate them out so fast, I no longer bother learning names) and wait to be called.

I wait.

And wait.

Finally Assistant #1 turns and thrusts a stack of forms towards me. "SIGN, DON'T DATE," she says before returning to the phones.

Erm, okay.

I sign (DON'T DATE!), keeping one eye one the hallway. Surely my agent will be back by the time I'm finished signing my life away.

I finish signing my life away. The office is still empty.

"So will Michael be back any time soon?," I say, feigning casualness. "He said he wanted to meet with me."

"Nah, probably not," Assistant #2 says, shoving a hunk of crumb cake into his mouth, his eyes never leaving the screen. "He's in a really big meeting. Everyone in the agency is there. Miss USA wants to sign."

Oh.

"Yeah, he'll probably be in there awhile," he continues, brushing powdered sugar off his power tie. "I hear she's a really important Miss USA."

Oh.

I mean I get it. I may be great but I am no Miss USA. And I'm certainly not a "really important" Miss USA. Which begs the question, Has there ever been a really important Miss USA?

*Psst - ever wonder what assistants discuss when you're not around? Or in my case, when you are around but not important enough to try and impress? A sample:

"What's the difference between crumb cake and a muffin anyway?"

"I think crumb cake has the crumb topping and a muffin doesn't."

"But some muffins have toppings. Does that make them cake?"

"Um, unless it says it's low-fat, then... yes."

Good times.

Would you have sex with this man?

2007-07-31T09:15:00.001-04:00

Aside from the fact that money does not fall from the sky (seriously, if that Tokyo handout happened in NYC, I guaran-damn-tee you nobody would be turning it in) Cape Cod is a pretty amazing place. Giant sand dunes overlooking the ocean, the heady scent of pine and damp grass and sea salt, hawks and bunnies and fireflies and a really fucking bright moon... (Of course it doesn't hurt to stay in a fabulous ultra-mod pad with sweeping views of the beach and a killer pool.) While I'm happy to be home, New York is decidedly lacking in the natural beauty department. (No Kristopher, our ladies don't count.)

I spent my first day back being followed by the cats (the Prozac-prone black one still won't let me out of her sight. She follows me from room to room, shadowing me like a small, furry ghost) and catching up on crap television. SPEAKING OF, The Two Coreys?

(insert sound of head exploding)

I'm not sure what I expected (aside from brilliance) but this thing is deader than these boys' careers. (I love how in the credits they introduce Feldman as a "working actor". A-wha?) Sure it's a phony premise (whatevs, it's TV) but everything is so set up, so REHEARSED, that even the pretense of realism is gone. In the first episode (and by "first episode" I clearly mean "the five minutes that I managed to sit through") you actually see Corey Feldman waiting for his cue before "spontaneously" making out with his wife in the hot tub. (Gee, wouldn't it be funny if Corey Haim "spontaneously interrupted" them? Oh look! There he goes!)

The only redeeming thing - and it's a small one - is watching the Haimster. This dude did so many drugs that his brain is Capital F Fried. While I sound like an awful human being (Watching brain damage is fun!) he's so out of it that he's actually, dare I say, entertaining. Not entertaining enough to keep me watching, but still.

On the other hand there's Rock of Love, Bret Michael's skankfest. Here's what I love about this thing - the man has NO SHAME. He's there to live in a house with twenty of the "most beautiful women in the world" (his words, not mine) and screw as many of them as possible. No faux-redeeming "I just want to find my soulmate" booshit here - just strippers, booze, and plenty of disasterous fashion choices. How skanky is all this? In the last episode the man attached an electrode to his penis so he could measure his arousal levels while the women gave him phone sex.

Two words: Awe-some.

I'll write a real one soon

2007-07-30T08:14:00.000-04:00

That's it, I'm moving to Tokyo.

I'm about to embarrass myself

2007-07-22T10:50:00.001-04:00

Okay, one quickie before I'm off: I have a new favorite show.

"Scott Baio Is 45 And Single"

Okay first off, the title is killer. What a way to cut to the chase! I have no real affection for Chachi - frankly I couldn't care less why he's 45 and single (although after watching the first episode I'm not tremendously surprised) - but the show is actually really compelling. He's - gasp - taking this stuff seriously! Who goes on reality television to deal with reality?! He seems genuinely upset about the fact that he can't commit and can't understand why. (His choice of wardrobe and women could have something to do with it. The whole long-sleeve-shirts-under-ironic-tees look? You're 45. Take a couple of Grow Up pills and call me in the morning. And don't get me started on your girlfriend...) But to me, the biggest question is not why Scott Baio Is 45 And Single, but how Scott Baio still manages to have an agent. Has he done anything since Charles In Charge? He must be making some kind of money because his house is amazing. Flat screen TV, koi pond, nice views... Those Happy Days residuals must be pretty freaking sweet, that's all I have to say.

Speaking of bad shows, anybody caught Rock of Love, the new Bret Michaels dating show? Le awesome, peeps. Le awesome.

HP Spoilers! (Kidding. Kidding.)

2007-07-21T09:26:00.001-04:00

I'm off to Cape Cod to bask by the sea and enjoy a sweet pad (we won't discuss how much rentals on the Cape cost per week... not that I'm paying) and eat lots of food and swim in the pool and generally prance around pretending I'm rich.

Oh, and watch a kid a little too.

I won't have computer access so no postings for a while but I should have plenty to say when I get back.

Thank god I'm getting out of Dodge for the week because trying to avoid all the Harry Potter spoilers is exhausting. Unfortunately I won't be able to read the damn thing until Matt gets back in August. (I refuse to buy two copies.) My prediction (based on absolutely nothing)? Harry dies, Neville dies, Alan Rickman dies. The only two left standing are Hermione and Ron, and maybe Ginny Weasley. Unless Bruce Willis or one of the Transformers busts in to kick Voldemort's ass. That'd be awesome.

2007-07-19T10:44:00.000-04:00

Apparently something really big went BOOM near Grand Central yesterday. Seeing as how Grand Central isn't very far from my humble abode, it shook me a bit. I mean the fact that things blow up is scary, but mostly I'm concerned with that giant plume of smoke. This, from this morning's top headline:

"ASBESTOS IN DUST, NOT AIR AFTER NEW YORK BLAST"

Oh, so it was in the dust! You mean that dust right there? The dust that reportedly wafted as high as the nearby Chrystler Building? GOOD THING IT DIDN'T GET INTO THE AIR.

Call me a skeptic, but after 9/11 and the whole Guiliani/EPA battle (they claim he muzzled them when told the air wasn't safe), telling me that there was asbestos in the dust but not the air feels a touch "truthy", to borrow a Colbert-ism. When I go out today, remind me to wear my cat litter mask. (Remind me to blog about my cat litter mask...)

Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgod.

2007-07-18T16:43:00.000-04:00

Yes, gentle readers, that is indeed a slice of bacon. A slice of bacon on a candy bar.

I was wandering around SoHo today when I happened upon Vosges, my favorite chocolate shop in all of NYC. Vosges is known for coming up with unexpectly delicious flavor combos - things like the Goji Chocolate Bar (tibetan goji berries, pink Himalayan salt and deep milk chocolate) or their Naga Bar (sweet Indian curry powder, coconut flakes and chocolate) so when I saw this, their newest creation, I was curious.

And by "curious" I mean "totally nasted out".

Don't get me wrong, I get it. The whole salty/sweet thing? Huge turn on. Come on, a few slices of really crisp bacon dipped in maple syrup? I dare you to deny the delicious. But bacon and chocolate? Not a ride I wanted to go on. Still, I couldn't help noticing that the bars - the bacon-chocolate bars - were completely sold out. And as we all know, if there's a bandwagon on which I can jump, I will take a flying leap.

I turned to the Buddy Holly-esque countergay and held up the bar, scrunching my nose skeptically.

"Oh honey," he said, lowering his voice, "it is un-be-lievable." Then he said the magic words:

"LET ME SEE IF I HAVE ANY SAMPLES."

He held out the box reverently, his eyes shining with anticipation. I took my time, hunting for the largest piece, and popped it into my mouth.

It was...

It was...

Friends, I think I was Punked.

Chocolate covered bacon. I just ate a piece of chocolate covered bacon. Just thinking about it makes my innards queasy. Why?! Why would someone do this to chocolate? And more specifically, why would someone eat it?! (Well, it was free...) But as stupid as I may be, remember this: there are at least a dozen other people walking around with $8 bacon bars tucked in their bags. I may be dumb, but I ain't that dumb.

Is there a Cat Whisperer?

2007-07-14T20:22:00.000-04:00

HAPPY BASTILLE DAY! Eat some crepes! French kiss your wife! Behead a neighbor!

It's Saturday night in NYC and what am I doing? Laundry. That's been the extent of my day. I almost made it to the new Harry Potter this afternoon but I got distracted by the thought of lunch. It doesn't take much to get me off track these days. When I told Matt that pregnant women's brains shrink 8% he said the sweetest thing...

"I thought you looked a little dumber!"

'Til death do us part, folks.

Speaking of (husbands, not death), that man's been gone a long time. I miss him, and not just because he entertains the cats. And carries all the laundry. And helps me clean the house. And entertains the cats. And lifts the really heavy mattress which technically I'm not supposed to do but if I don't I'll be sleeping sheetless for the next three weeks. And entertains the cats. Seriously, the hardest part of his being gone is the lack of sleep. The cats are still - STILL - on a rampage. Val runs around the house screaming bloody murder which is nice and direct but Tinkerbell... she's more subtle.

12:30 am: You've just started nodding off. Then you feel something coming toward you. You open your eyes just in time to see a small, stinky paw reaching toward your face.

Lather, rinse, repeat roughly seventy-two more times and you've got a decent idea what my nights are like. Sure, it's almost cute - until you catch a whiff and remember where that paw has been. Between the yelling and the pawing (don't get me started on my bladder) sleep deprivation ain't waiting for no squawking kid. Still, I've got a week off coming up which is beyond awesome. Tomorrow I have big plans to tidy the place for a visiting K. Polly. He's rumored to be staying chez Ali but seeing as how he has giant make-out plans for this trip (no, not involving me) I'm not sure how much time he'll actually spend here. Still, I am my mother's child which means a trip to Trader Joe's and some significant de-cat hairing of the couch. At least until lunch.

Dun-dun. Dun-dun-dun-dun...

2007-07-12T09:20:00.000-04:00

I learned two very important things while on vacation in Florida:

- I need to live near the ocean

- You couldn't pay me to live in Ft. Lauderdale

Call me a killjoy but I have yet to understand the appeal of binge drinking, neon, Harleys, henna tattoos, or Hooters. Clearly I'm missing the fundamental genome that finds listening to John Cougar Mellencamp at Guantanamo levels awesome. And while my inner Kansan loves me some chain restaurants, shelling out $17 for the fish 'n chip platter at Bubba Gump's in a city where locally caught seafood is king just seems wrong. (Not that that stopped me from ordering the fish 'n chips at Bubba Gump's, mind you. But I felt hella guilty about it.)

Lest you think my vacation was all frat boys and fake tans, there was a little something called the ocean just two blocks away. Travel and Leisure Magazine just named the Ft. Laudedale public beach one of the best and I can totally see why. The water was bathtub warm and surprisingly clear, and beach chairs and umbrellas are provided (gratis in the a.m., $10 a pop when the heat kicks in). There was a migrating school of minnows right by the shore and I got to spend some quality time surrounded by millions - seriously, millions - of tiny, silvery fish. At one point I was joking with a supremely hot Irishman (as with most of the eye candy on the beach, gay, gay, gay) about the perils of standing in the middle of a school of fish (cue the theme to "Jaws") when he calmly informed me that a week earlier he'd been standing in the very same spot when suddenly all the minnows started leaping. He wasn't sure what was happening until he looked down and saw the fin.

The FIN.

He said the shark was about 8 feet long and seemed to have absolutely no interest in him, which is cold comfort if you ask me. The craziest part is that the lifeguard didn't seem to care. He simply said thanks and sat right back down. Apparently there has never been a shark attack that far south so he wasn't worried. (Uh, to me that just means there's a first time for everything.)

Needless to say, I kept my eyes peeled for leaping fish.

Speaking of fish - at the risk of sounding like a dumbass, is mahi-mahi dolphin? I ask because mahi-mahi was described on almost every menu in Ft. Lauderdale as dolphin meat. Could this possibly be true? Have I spent the bulk of my adult life eating Flipper?! 'Scuze me whilst I Google....

*UPDATE: While mahi-mahi is part of a species of fish called "dolphin", it is in no way related to the mammal. To which I say "whew".

2007-07-11T22:34:00.001-04:00

Slowly but surely, I'll get back to this. Takes a girl a while to recover from three solid days of fried food and neon.

New Yorkers never cease to amaze me.

2007-07-05T18:11:00.000-04:00

Today I had a very New York experience. There was a gang fight in the subway car next to mine and one of the guys got stabbed.

I discovered that there was a gang fight in the subway car next to mine because all of a sudden half the car went running to the window to watch. Not only did they watch, people actually cheered them on! Oh yeah! I'm sitting there panicking that they're going to pull out guns and storm our car (I was all set to scramble under the seats) but luckily we reached our stop without it raining bullets (or knives, whatever). As I was racing out of there I couldn't help but notice that most of the people from the stabbing car were wandering out all slow and easy, like nothing had happened. A few people did scream for the conductor to call 9-1-1 but aside from that it was business as usual.

Me? I hauled ass upstairs to safety. I got a kid in my belly, I don't need to feign cool.

Boys, bees, and beaches

2007-07-02T21:11:00.001-04:00

Okay friends, it's time to mark your calendars: Sunday, July 29th, A&E

"The Two Coreys"

That's right, Feldog and the Haimster are back and I'll be first in line to watch the train wreck. (Seriously, it's in my day planner. Highlighted.) Yes it's going to suck. Yes, I'm going to hate that santimonious son-of-a-bitch Corey Feldman even more than I did when he was on The Surreal Life and yes, Corey Haim now looks like the kind of guy who keeps trying to squeegee your windshield but I cannot wait (cannot wait!) to see it. They took Lohan's 21st birthday bash away from me but this baby's mine, all mine.

In other news, it's cherry season at the farmer's market. Next to tomato season, cherry season is my absolute fave. I don't get that excited about the strawberries for some reason (although after listening to a report on NPR about how store-bought strawberries are grown I'll never eat shortcake again) but the cherries totally get me. I also bought some fantastic lettuce there last weekend. (Fear not, dear husband. It was only $4.50.) Talk about fresh picked! (How fresh was it, you ask?) So fresh I found a freaking BEE in it. And it was still alive!

I'm getting ready to head to Ft. Lauderdale this weekend for some much-needed R&R with dad. We're staying at a place called the Ask Me Inn. (Swear to Christ.) It's supposed to be quite lovely and very close to the beach which is really all I care about. Speaking of, yesterday Matt called me from the beach and announced that we are moving to California. So there's that.

LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!

2007-06-28T10:08:00.001-04:00

I was flipping through channels the other day and I stumbled across the infamous WE show "Bridezillas". Now I will be the first to confess that I used to lurve "Bridezillas". Sure, part of me felt guilty about laughing at them, but come on - the show is called BRIDEZILLAS. It's not like they didn't know what they were getting into. But this episode was a real disappointment. The brides were all playing to the cameras, ramping up their bad behavior and bitchy bon mots. The question is: Why?

Which leads me to MTV's barf-tastic "My Super Sweet Sixteen". Again, do I watch? Guilty as charged. It's not so much that I care that these adolescent twits are spending oodles of daddy's money for one freaking day (see: "Bridezillas") but I just can't figure out why anyone would let their kid - or soon to be wife - go on a show like this. What is the appeal? Other reality shows I understand. If you manage to spin it just right, maybe you'll get a little dose 'o fame. (Hello Elizabeth Hasselbeck from "The View".) But the sole purpose of "Bridezillas" and "Super Sweet Sixteen" is to portray these people as horrible human beings. Where the win?

Seriously, Enquiring minds, peeps. Enquiring minds.

2007-06-26T22:17:00.000-04:00

I can't believe I'm about to say what I'm about to say.

Paris Hilton is so... pretty.

Is the sky falling? Are there snowball fights in hell? If 23 days in the pokey means I'll come out looking like this, ship me off, Sheriff! The hair? Great! The clothes? Great! The fact that she's not doing that stupid little pose she does in every single fucking picture ever taken? GREAT! I don't ever think I've seen her smile, and good goddamn if it isn't gorgeous!

Man, I soooo wanted her to come out in that orange jumpsuit. There's got to be a pic of that floating around somewhere right?

This is what I do for fun.

2007-06-25T09:16:00.000-04:00

I'm batching it for the next six weeks while Matt's away being a famous writer in San Diego. Perhaps it's due to our old schedules (he'd leave early, I'd get home late, really only see each other on weekends) but so far the separation hasn't been as traumatic as I thought.

For me.

The cats on the other hand...

Val, the big black one, seems to think that I have hidden daddy somewhere in our tiny one-bedroom apartment and if she just yells for him loud enough he'll come out. (Apparently hidden daddies find this particularly helpful around 3 a.m.) Tinkerbell, on the other hand, has gone into mourning and hasn't come out from under the bed since he left. (I did catch her tiptoeing toward the cat food bowl when I got home last night so I'm not too concerned.) Trying to explain daddy's absence to creatures who don't speak Engli-- scratch that. Trying to explain daddy's absence to creature who don't speak is a little trying. It involves an abundance of mime and awkward finger gestures but I still don't think they're getting it.

As much as I love having my man around, I'd be big fat fibber if I didn't say there were certain benefits...

Being able to stretch out over the entire bed, for one.

The ability to fart as loud as I want is also quite freeing.

Groceries are a hell of a lot cheaper when you're only buying for one person, which makes me feel less guilty about my weekly farmer's market tomato splurges. (I won't tell you how much those tomatoes cost me each week... Okay, I'll tell you. $10. For 5 tomatoes. The only other time I've spent that much on produce was last summer's $21 lettuce debacle. Matt would shit a brick if he knew I spent $10 a week on tomatoes, but like I said, he ain't here.)

'Scuse me while I go fart on his side of the bed. (Whatchu gonna do about it, sucka?!)

Thrilling (non-baby related) news!

2007-06-22T09:17:00.000-04:00

Get ready, young readers: MATT JUST SOLD HIS FIRST BOOK! (Or, I should say, Kate sold Matt's book.) Ms. Buffy did some first-class wheeling and dealing and we are very pleased with the result: a two-book deal with Knopf! (With an option for a third!) Needless to say it could not have come at a better time (baby needs shoes). I'm already planning the photo op at Barnes and Noble. (Any NYC-ers have contacts at Books of Wonder? I'm gunning for a front window display.)

I see movie deals and the book tours, peeps! (Hey, if JK Rowling can make more money than the queen...)

Stuff like this freaks my shit.

2007-06-21T13:22:00.001-04:00

How does an entire lake disappear?

2007-06-20T09:34:00.000-04:00

Spent a lovely weekend with Matt's niece Amanda while she was in town. Looks like she might be moving to NYC sometime soon which excites me to no end. (FREE BABYSITTING!) Because I like to show visitors how exciting New York can be, we decided to take her out on the town. Or more specifically, we decided to take her around the corner to the AMC to see Knocked Up. (Don't say we didn't show you a good time, kid!) I was sort of thinking I'd wait until this was Netflixable since I usually require a little spectacle for my $11, but let me just say that this movie IS GENIUS. Genuine hilarity. True, someone in the theater may have burst into tears during the labor scene (I'm not saying that person was me) but c'mon, can you blame... that person? Labor? REALLY FUCKING SCARY. Think about it: the pain is supposed to be so intense women actually poop themselves. And they don't care.

I WILL NEVER NOT CARE ABOUT POOPING MYSELF!

That said, go see it. (You can also find some heeelarious deleted scenes on the YouTube.)

I Heart NY

2007-06-16T08:56:00.001-04:00

One thing about NYC, it's fairly easy to be entertained. Just walking down the street you're apt to see something interesting. (Like an obese shirtless man getting his head shaved by a homeless guy in the middle of the sidewalk. Not that I'm saying I saw that... Actually, I did see that.)

YESTERDAY:

- At the playground I noticed a little kid standing next to a garbage can. He reached in (No...) pulled out a half-eaten sucker (no, no, no!) AND STARTED EATING IT (ohgodohgodohgod!)

- At that same playground, I also saw a dad pushing a stroller while riding a skateboard.

- And to top it all off, Orlando Bloom walked past me while I was picking up Thai food. He's supposedly buying a place right down the street from me. (FYI: Uber-skinny and weird, bushy hair.)

Seriously, going to Hell.

2007-06-15T09:27:00.000-04:00

Okay, so Paris Hilton is back in prison after a week in the hospital where she was suffering from some undisclosed "condition" (according to those in the know, she's actually going through withdrawl from Xanax and Adderal). I guess these stories are being planted so that we feel sorry for her but when I read stuff like this, it simply fills me with glee.

"It's sad. It's like right out of the movies," Kathy Hilton said. "The glass partition, the orange jumpsuit. Everything."

I would pay good money to see that.

2007-06-12T09:02:00.000-04:00

So the husband's up and leaving me for six weeks to go be a fancy writer in San Diego. He seems to have mixed feelings about it but alls I know is the dude gets to eat fresh sushi daily. He's staying on the UCSD campus and apparently their dining hall is hella better than the wilted-lettuce-and-watery-jello salad bar pickings I got in back in St. Louie. Along with the fresh sushi, they also have freshly made bread and desserts. What's there to feel mixed about?! (The man's going to come back so fat... Hey, we'll match!)

It's been another busy, busy week (hence the non-posting). Lots of late nights/early mornings, leaving me with very little that's exciting, unless you want to read about tomatoes at the farmer's market. (The tomatoes are totally in at the farmer's market!) Therefore I think it's time for another round of THINGS ALISHA LOVES!

- Did I mention the tomatoes at the farmer's market? Grab some mozzerella, some olive oil, pick a few leaves off your (now scary-big) basil plant and get to eating.

- Maybelline's Fabulash mascara
My life revolves around two things: the bathroom and my eye drops. This non-waterproof mascara doesn't run or flake and has nice, rich coverage. I've recommended it to several friends and they all rave. Highly recommend.

- Liz Lange Maternity at Target
I know, this belongs on another blog. The day I discovered that my pants no longer fit I ran screaming into the arms of Liz. I FULLY INTENDED TO RETURN EVERYTHING I ORDERED but the stuff, she is awesome. (FYI: Don't bother going to the store - rumor has it the selection is crap. Online is totally the way to go.)

- So You Think You Can Dance
OMG, so good.

- The peanut butter cups at Trader Joe's
Why the hell did I allow these into my life?

- The How Book: A Stadard Guide For The Home-Worker, The Business Man, and Mechanic
My aunt Sharon picked this book up at an "estate" (read: trailer) sale in backwoods Missouri a few years ago. Let me tell you, this thing is un-be-lievable. Published in 1913, not only does it offer stellar advice on How To Dress When Being Photographed and How To Be Agreeable When Visiting, but now I know How To Keep Butter Fresh In Summer, How To Do Business Under An Assumed Name, How To Tell Fortunes By Cards, and How To Treat Cholera. Invaluable stuff, peeps. (Bless you Sharon, for passing this on.)

2007-06-09T09:34:00.000-04:00

I know I shouldn't laugh...

2007-06-07T19:35:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had my first official lettuce harvest! While this topic is about as interesting as, oh, a lettuce harvest, I was pretty psyched. Not only is the stuff growing like gangbusters (water, sun, and Miracle Grow. Who knew?) but it's edible too! See, now instead of taking the subway to Trader Joe's to buy my $4.00 bag of organic romaine, I can now walk twenty feet to my balcony and PICK MY OWN SALAD! My God, the immediate gratification! If only my garden made mashed potatoes and did my laundry!

I've been on a kick lately (as is my wont, these three-day-lasting kicks) and the more I read about the environmental impact of groceries, the more I want to stick local. There's a push in high quality restaurants to trade out bottled water in favor of (filtered) tap, and when you factor in the fact that (according to NPR) the water's usually produced in Italy, the glass bottle in China, the bottle in Indonesia, each flown in from their respective countries to a centralized shipping area where it's taken by boat to New York, then put on a van to the distributer, before finally being brought by truck to the restaurant in California...

Hell of a carbon footprint, that.

I'm not going to stand here and shout that I'll never buy olive oil again (well I might, but we all know I'd only last three days), but this whole lettuce thing has made me positively twitchy to have a garden. Being able to grow my own potatoes (the unlimited mashing potential!) or tomatoes sounds so damn nice! Granted, I'm not much of a farmer (I came close to buying a composting kit until I realized that I'd have to deal directly with the worms. I sort of assumed that they did their business and the compost was deposited into a tidy little box. Not so much...) and true, the "patio tomato plant" I bought last season (yes, they actually sell such things) was butchered by my balcony's aforementioned wind, but someday - SOMEDAY - I will have a place with a garden. And as God is my witness, I will never be hungry again! (You know, assuming anything actually grows.)

My God, is there anything this woman can't get away with?!

2007-06-07T09:56:00.001-04:00

Just a quickie because I'm running out the door but word is, Paris Hilton was released from prison this morning after fulfilling a whole 3 days of her 23 day sentence.

Seriously, I need to get famous quick. Not only would I get tons of free stuff (stuff that I could totally afford, what with my newfound bags of money), but I could do all sorts of illegal shit! And if there's one thing we know about Ali, it's her love of illegal shit.

Time to face facts

2007-06-05T08:38:00.000-04:00

Spent a lovely Saturday with a good friend in Brooklyn last weekend. It shames me how infrequently I "cross the pond", as it were. Truth be told, I'd never actually been to Williamsburg - which means nothing to those of you outside of NYC, I know. See, Williamsburg is this total hipster enclave, teeming with quirky shops selling $40 onesies and adorable handmade dresses. In other words, the kind of place that's right up Ali's alley. But Brooklyn always seems so foreign. Its streets have names instead of numbers which is very confusing to someone used Manhattan's grid system (I get lost easily). People in Brooklyn live in warehouses and make things like art. Professionally. The place is a little intimidating.

Here's the other thing about Brooklyn - its residents make you feel really, really old.

Friends, it's time to face the facts: I am no longer hip. There was a brief period in 2000 when I think maybe I was (I had leather pants) but walking around, seeing all the pretty little twenty-somethings with their nutritionist-meets-part-time-model hotness and ubiquitous lower back tats, it makes a gal feel a touch decrepit.

That said, it's worth a visit if only to check out CB I Hate Perfume. I, too, hate perfume (traditional perfume, at least) so this place was a relief. It was founded by the guy who created the Demeter line (the perfumes that smell like Mimosa and Gin Fizz) so the scents are definitely untraditional. I highly recommend reading his descriptions on the website. In addition to being a darn good perfumer, he's also a hell of a writer. (I think I almost like his descriptions better than his perfumes, but don't tell him that.)

FYI, if you've recently come into money and are looking for something for a newly pregnant redheaded friend, his Memory of Kindness is awfully delish. (Did I just say "awfully delish"? I am so not hip...)

2007-06-03T22:36:00.001-04:00

Introducing FLABBYPANTS, the sister (or maybe brother) of our adorable LIES! ALL LIES! I'd go into a fascinating description about the creation of this little thing but I've been sitting here awhile and my butt is getting numb.

Hope you like!

2007-05-31T09:15:00.000-04:00

Best. Photo. Ever.

2007-05-31T08:51:00.001-04:00

Hot! HOOOOOT! So hot! That damn global warming is behind this, right?

This weekend I finally managed to get around to planting my balcony garden. I love going to the giant farmer's market and picking out flowers, grabbing a five pound bag of organic potting soil from the worm dealers (how tempted am I to learn how to compost? How tempted?) and spending the day up to my armpits (well, wrists) in dirt.

Alas, while I've been blessed with many things (a sense of humor, a nice head of hair), a green thumb... not so much. In my defense, I think it has less to do with me (and my love of overwatering) and more to do with the fact that my balcony is in the path of the world's strongest windtunnel. No matter how much love and attention I give my little flower buds, nothing can withstand the gale. A few weeks ago Matt bought me a tree. It's a hearty little bugger, built to handle the elements. Needless to say, the poor thing was defeated within days.

So this year, I'm trying something a little different: LETTUCE

Holy guacamole, I'm a farmer, folks! I'm not saying I got a little overzealous with my purchase, but, uh, I got me a lot of lettuce. And herbs! I also bought some herbs! (And lettuce. Oh my God, so much lettuce.)

Who's up for a salad?

My God I'm talented.

2007-05-30T13:15:00.000-04:00

My latest opus is now online. Read it and weep - WITH LAUGHTER!

(FYI: The last line of the story? Not mine. I'm not sure where it came from but I suspect an overzealous junior editor.)

Send in the hook.

2007-05-29T09:57:00.000-04:00

Pirates of the Caribbean? In the words of my bad-movie loving husband:

"I want my money back."

(And this coming from a man that didn't hate Spider-Man 3!)

2007-05-28T09:54:00.001-04:00

Okay, maybe not so much with the Coney Islanding today.

Poor Matt. I've been pining for water for days now and, while rain is technically water, it's not really what I had in mind. So my darling husband, in an effort to appease his grouchy, sea-loving wife, suggested this:

Let's go see Pirates of the Caribbean!

While I have to give him points for creativity, I'm sniffing a bit of an ulterior motive here. (Someone in this house looooves movie nachos.) Frankly, I could not have less interest in this flick. I'm not sure why exactly, I love Johnny Depp and think he's great as Cap'n Jack, but I can't shake the notion that the movie's going to be a whole mess of lame. I have a hard time paying $11 for any movie and ponying up my hard-earned cash to watch other people frolic in the Caribbean is a pretty solid way to lead to gnashing of teeth.

So instead I'm going to the gym. I can stare at the pool while I run, right?

2007-05-27T08:08:00.001-04:00

Dad's in town this weekend which means that the past two days have been a whirlwind of thrift shopping and treasure hunting. My dad is known for his ability to sniff out a bargain - right now he and his wife are wandering around Broadway looking for dropped coins. (You'd be amazed how much money they find during a typical weekend trip. WASH YOUR HANDS, POP!) They're leaving for an eight day cruise to the Virgin Islands and I'm tempted to squeeze myself into their carryons and sneak aboard. I'm desperate to get out of the city. Maybe it's the sudden scorching temps (a harbinger of things to come) but I'd eat my own hair if it meant trip to a tropical isle. I need to see some ocean, stat! Which means that tomorrow I'm planning on dragging the husband down to that grimy strip of corn dogs and commerce for an afternoon of sun and, er, fun? That's right, I'm talking CONEY ISLAND!

I always have such high hopes for Coney Island. In my mind it's retro, it's kitch, full of bobby soxers sipping sodas and happy children waving balloons. But in reality, it's... the word "scuzzy" comes to mind. The last time I was there, the husband and I decided to ride the world famous Wonder Wheel - which, as far as Biggest Mistakes Of My Life go, is up there.

- The fellow operating the ride was approximately 109 years old.

- He had no teeth.

- He was was engaged in a shouting match with another worker about whether or not the man had "stolen his goddamn eggs".

Goooood times.

After we recovered from our ride (can everybody say "terrifying"?) we wandered down to the beach where we encountered several used condoms, a fresh pile of poop, and a pair of children's underwear.

Still, water. Beach. Maybe even funnel cakes. Anything to get out of the city, right?

2007-05-24T21:52:00.000-04:00

Whew, whole lotta nothing on this end, folks. I spent the last two hours working my way through a pan of No Pudge and the premiere episode of So You Think You Can Dance. I know I've got a book to write and a house to clean (dad's coming tomorrow) but c'mon, it's been a long week! Some people drink, some do drugs, I watch reality television! LET ME HAVE MY JOY!

While filling my maw with fistfuls of chocolate madness, I happened to run across a couple of commercials I didn't book. Man I hate that. Nothing puts a damper on your favorite show like seeing the job you didn't get (over and over and over). I must confess, the chick who booked one of the jobs is pretty damn funny (no hard feelings, girl) but seeing my husband up there with her - at least, the guy who'd played my husband - well, it's hard not to feel the ouch. I mean, in what other career are you confronted (repeatedly) with the jobs you didn't get? (Not to mention the fact that every time you see The Job You Didn't Get, you know the person who did get the job is getting paid. As you're sitting there!) I think about that fact every time I see those "Can you hear me now" ads. I mean, think about it -

Somebody came in second for that job.

Alls I have to say is, thank God that person wasn't me.

So much crying.

2007-05-23T08:49:00.000-04:00

Anybody catch the premiere episode of "On The Lot" last night? It's the new Mark Burnett/Steven Spielberg (?!!) show about aspiring filmmakers competing to win a $1 million contract with Dreamworks. It's on Fox which always feels a little sketchy but the show was surprisingly good. (I'm assuming the lack of cheese is due to Spielberg. Gotta keep it high-class.) I mean, yes, you've got the requisite godawful host (in this case, an anorexic-looking, reedy voiced blonde) and of course there was crying (there's always crying) but the initial task was interesting and hard (pitching a movie to Gary Marshall (Pretty Woman), Brett Ratner (um...) and Carrie Fisher (Carrie Fisher).

These shows - the Project Runways, the Top Chefs (yes, even the Grease, You The One That I Wants) - always get me. At first I thought it was just about indulging in some good, old-fashioned schadenfreude (c'mon, we all know me) but I don't think that's it. Watching the struggle - the fact that these shows even acknowlege that there is a struggle - feels incredibly validating.

I even learned a little something from the first episode. Namely, I would make the world's shittiest director.

2007-05-23T08:45:00.000-04:00

For you bloggers out there... (I cribbed this from the personal finance page of one of our local papers)

"At Reviewme.com, the site pays people to blog reviews about products and other web sites and companies. The rate varies between $20 and $200 per review, according to its site. Other sites like SponsoredReviews.com and PayPerPost.com offer similar deals."

I checked out Reviewme and it seems on the up and up, but who knows. If anybody does it, let me know.

IS IT REALLY SO WRONG?!

2007-05-22T09:34:00.000-04:00

Those of you with pets, feel free to weigh in.

I have cats. They happen to eat cat food. Being a good mother I clean their bowls every day and, being a good recycler, I also wash out their cans. These tasks require a sponge, and up until recently I didn't think twice about grabbing the same one I use for everyday use. I'd simply clean the cat bowls, rinse the sponge in soap and hot water, and move on to the next dish. I'm not a big germ freak; maybe that's why it never entered my mind that it was nasty. But a few days ago a friend of mine saw me doing this and... I don't want to say that she freaked, but she kind of freaked. There was much barely-contained nausea and "That is the grossest thing I've ever seen"-ing, all of which left me perplexed. I just sort of figured that cat food was food. Not the greatest food perhaps, not food I necessarily want to eat, but it wasn't like I was scrubbing the floors and then turning the sponge on our plates. My friend then showed me a disinfecting technique involving the microwave that I now feel obligated to implement but am I the only one who does this? Do you all have separate sponges or what? Are you all thoroughly grossed out and vowing never to eat at my house again?

2007-05-19T09:18:00.000-04:00

Okay, so here's the thing... right now I'm supposed to be hunkered down, toiling feverishly over the Next Great Thing (as per my husband's instructions). My writing has been a bit on the back burner lately and trying to get the motor restarted has been a task of Sisyphian proportions. I promised Matt that I would spend at least five hours each (weekend) day working on my "real" writing but so far... um...

- Wake up, trip over cat
- Make coffee, tea, wash dishes, feed cats, water plants, recycle paper products ("Productive Puttering")
- Turn on computer. Notice nearby coupon for 20% off at Piperlime, Banana Republic's new shoe store. Decide sandal shopping equals "research"
- Piperlime disappoints. Try Zappos instead
- Realize that attractive, comfortable sandals are akin to the Tooth Fairy (fiction, fiction, fiction)
- Summer shoes mean summer dresses
- Forever21.com. Who knew?
- Pancakes... Or maybe eggs...
- What's the cast of Deadwood up to these days?

I expect my book to be finished by the Fall of 2015. I wonder if Lindsay will still be around to star?

Seriously, cover a dog turd in almond butter and I'll eat it. You just watch.

2007-05-18T08:15:00.000-04:00

Hallelujah, I'm back from the dead! (Or at least the really, really busy.) Mom has been safely depositied back in Tornado Town (Miss you, mom!), my feet have recovered from the mecca that is IKEA, and I've developed a squirrelly devotion to baked beans and almond butter. Such was my week.

IKEA. Man.

It's so not cool to dig IKEA. Sooooo not cool. But good goddamn they have MEATBALLS, people. Swedish ones! Meatballs covered in cream sauce and lingonberries and served with potatoes for $4, along with cake and salmon and cool Swedish potato chips. And their furniture looks awesome. Sure, it's all made from particle board and spit but where else can you buy a sofa for $200? Give me a working shower and a cable hookup and I could move right in. (I think a reporter did that once, just moved right in for the day to see if IKEA would kick him out. Of course they didn't. They are Swedish, after all.)

I seem to have hit an interesting place in my commercial career. I figured once I entered my (ahem) "golden years", I'd be shilling for the mommy products. Swiffers, toilet bowl cleaners, Lunchables... you know, things that require a certain 30-something Midwestern charm. Instead, I recently auditioned to play a bottle of water.

Yesterday I was a vitamin.

Which begs the question, What does one wear to play a vitamin?

2007-05-11T08:44:00.000-04:00

The mom's in town for some Mother's Day visitation so the posting's been sketchy at best. Always good to have the mom in town. I plan on dragging her all the way to IKEA this visit because that's what everyone wants to do when they come to New York - go to New Jersey!

Mmm... burger!

2007-05-09T09:12:00.000-04:00

On NPR they were talking about the livestock industry. Apparently a lot of nasty things go into our food on that we, the eaters, are not aware of. Did you know that arsenic is commonly added to livestock feed? It makes the animals ravenous so they eat nonstop and get to market faster. And guess the main source of protein fed to cattle in this country? Chicken poop! All cows are fed a diet of "high protein and cost effective" chicken poop.

Chicken poop.

Organic meat has much stricter regulation (no poison! no chicken poop!) but there are still some things that get through that are cause for concern. (Dyes mostly, which - compared to arsenic and chicken shit - I'll take.)

Oh, and remember the recalled pet food scare - the stuff that killed all those dogs and cats a few weeks ago? It's currently being fed to our pigs. Pigs that will soon be turned into bacon and sold at your friendly neighborhood grocery store. The way the official explained it, the pet food had to go somewhere and since this is the normal proceedure when they have recalled food... And no, they didn't think it was a problem that humans would be eating the poisoned-food consuming piggies. No problem at all.

What could possibly go wrong?

*This just in from today's paper: "FEDS - FARMED FISH FED POSIONED MEALS: Farmed fish have been fed meal spiked with the same chemical that has been linked to the pet food recall, but the contamination was probably too low to harm anyone that ate the fish, federal officials said yesterday."

2007-05-09T09:11:00.001-04:00

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO CATE BLANCHETT?!

2007-05-08T08:17:00.000-04:00

So sad. Looks like my beloved Gilmore Girls is going the way of the dodo. According to an inside source, Lauren Graham and the freakishly youthful Alexis Bledel were asking for "wheelbarrows of cash" and the CW wouldn't fork it up. Granted, the premise was wearing a touch thin, what with Lorelai's "Look how quirky and young and irresponsible I am" shtick seeming awfully forced in a pre-Botox Meg Ryan kind of way now that Lauren Graham is 40+, and the writing this season has been decidedly under-parr (ever since they fired creator/writer/producer Amy Sherman-Palladino and replaced her with... Lauren Graham). Still, for a strong dose of lifestyle porn, you don't get better than fictional (oh so fictional) Star's Hollow, where the townsfolk are quirky yet kind, everyone has time to stop at the diner for a cup of the world's best joe, the weather is collegiately crisp every day of the year, and a quasi-flakey, somewhat foolhardy woman can run a hugely successful inn and live in the world's most stylish house while struggling cutely.

I want to struggle cutely. Mostly I just flail and bark which might sound adorable but is, in fact, not.

Weekend update

2007-05-07T08:38:00.000-04:00

I had quite a lovely weekend here in NYC. On Saturday I met up with a friend at the world famous Katz's Deli (yes, the place where Sally faked her on-screen orgasm). I'd never been there, even though it's right up there with the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State as far as tourists are concerned. The place was mobbed, but if you think that stopped me from getting some matzo ball soup, you'se crazy. I love that it hasn't changed a bit since the 40's (there's still a sign hanging from the ceiling - "Send a salami to your boy in the ARMY") and even though their byzantine ordering system is confusing (walk in, get yellow ticket, figure out what you want to eat - which is the pastrami, ask equally confused tourist which is the right line for sandwiches, accidentally end up in soup line, eventually manage to find sandwich line, hand over ticket to counter guy who scribbles price, try to find french fry line, consider trying to locate beverage line but decide that banging head against wall would be better use of time, try to find table, intimidate fleeing tourists with "hungry New Yorker" gruffness, snag table, finally eat.) The food is damn good. Damn expensive ($14 for a sandwich?!) but worth the splurge. They're famous for their pastrami (which is what I recommend) with french fries, a plate of homemade pickles, and an egg cream (which, surprisingly, does not contain eggs). *A tip: If you ask the young Hispanic soup guy which one is his favorite, he might just give you a bowl for free. I'm not saying that happened to me, I'm just saying.

After that we went for ice cream at Il Laboratorio del Gelato in the bowels of the Lower East Side. It's a closet of a place with the best damn ice cream you'll ever eat. I sampled some interesting flavors (ricotta - like eating cold, whipped cheesecake; avocado - not as gross as you'd expect, very mild and sweet) but ended up playing it safe with cinnamon and dark chocolate, both quite delish.

Finished up the evening with some Spider-Man 3 which was meh at best. (As Matt put it, "Too much crying, too many villains.")

And finally, today I have a callback for another commercial. I'm playing a talking bottle of juice.

"WHERE IN THE WORLD IS ALISHA MCKINNEY". I'd watch that!

2007-05-04T08:54:00.000-04:00

I caught a few minutes of the Today Show this morning while polishing off some leftover pancakes (pancakes on a weekday! So decadant!) and let me just say, Matt Lauer has the best job ever. He's doing his "Where In The World Is..." tour and, while I'm sure it's slightly less glamorous than I imagine, what with the waking-up-in-a-new-place-every-day aspect of the deal, I can't help but get a little fatootsed over the awesomeness of it all. Flying first class, staying in fantastic hotels (which is really all I want from a job. They've got to retire that Great Hotels chick sometime) AND he makes $13 million a year. Seriously, how'd he swing this? I've watched the Today Show - it doesn't look that hard. Hell, if Ann Curry can do it...

2007-05-03T20:17:00.000-04:00

Things I Learned While Watching Myself On A Game Show:

1) When I Get Excited, I Act Like An Asshat
2) I Have An Enormous Forehead

2007-05-02T22:46:00.000-04:00

Oh Lordy...

So tomorrow night - Thursday, May 3rd - me and my dear pal Gary will be appearing on a little show called Cash Cab. If you want to tune in, it'll be on at either 5:00 or 5:30 EST (they run them back-to-back and I don't know which one I'm on) on Discovery Channel.

While watching, do your best to remember that I graduated from college.

Only pussies wear shirts!

2007-05-02T08:48:00.000-04:00

I spent the afternoon in Central Park yesterday. Let me tell you, there's nothing like that place when the trees are blooming and the sun is out. Kids were taking skateboard lessons and gigantic dogs were pracing about and all the baby turtles in Turtle Pond were swimming around, hoping for dropped Cheerios. (I feel like such a killjoy telling the little kids not to feed the them. There are signs up all over the place but seeing as how they can't read yet - and their nannies seem too bored to bother - I feel it is my duty as an environmentalist to step in. Plus I like telling kids what to do.)

I think every male in the tri-state area was at the Great Lawn yesterday, and every last one of them was playing Shirtless Frisbee. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but I just have to laugh. By the time we were ready to leave it was probably in the 50's - definitely jacket weather - but these guys refused to put their freaking shirts on. They'd literally throw the frisbee than clutch their man boobies, shivering. Clearly this is the type that breeds with the girl who straps on a bikini and goes sunbathing in Central Park the second the snow melts. (I once saw a girl sunbathing in a bikini and Ugg boots. Woman, if you need to wear snow boots, put on a goddamn top.)

La Lohan has lived there for the past two years - in the $750 a night suite.

2007-05-01T09:11:00.000-04:00

I was doing some research on a new project over the weekend about the Chateau Marmont. I know a little about the place, obviously - the Jim Belushi thing, the glamorous stars of yore posing in their bungalows for the pages of LIFE magazine... I'm a sucker for old school Hollywood and this place has it in spades. (Especially the bungalows. Gotta love the bungalows.) Naturally they have all the amenities - frette linens, balconys, room service. I like all that.

But then I noticed an amenity so fantasic, so Made-For-Me, that I simply have to finagle a way to stay there.

Customized stationary.

Every person that stays there gets customized Chateau Marmont stationary. You know how every hotel has that little pad of paper mixed in with the Room Service menu and the Bible? Well at the Chateau Marmont they take it up a notch. Each guest gets this customized letterhead:

Chateau Marmont
Alisha McKinney in residence

Now that is classy. And it'll only cost me $450 per night to get my hands on it.

Oy! Look a' my ass, Hugh!

2007-04-27T22:36:00.000-04:00

This is the best. celebrity photo. ever.

You would not believe what I ate for dinner last night...

2007-04-26T09:07:00.000-04:00

Continuing the food theme, here are some other things I must eat:

- Cinnamon and creme fraiche gelato from Il Laboratorio del Gelato
- Coconut cream donuts from the Donut Plant
- Chocolate chip cookies from Almondine
- Barbeque pork noodles from Republic
- Roasted free-range chicken from West Bank Cafe
- Anything from Patisserie Claude

2007-04-25T08:13:00.000-04:00

I'm consistently amazed at bloggers who always seem have something good to write about. The authors are always going to interesting places or having fantastic thoughts and it leaves me wondering if they have jobs. The most interesting thing I've seen recently was a really fat homeless guy getting his head shaved on the street by another homeless guy.

They've already turned the sprinklers on in the city parks. We had our first really hot day and the kids were out in force, running through the icy water in their underwear. The Mr. Softee trucks are also out, enticing me with their wares. I still haven't had this year's first, mostly because I'm afraid of opening that (particularly delicious) door. I usually go for the vanilla with sprinkles but since I read that the chocolate dipped cones have a cult following, I feel like it's my obligation to try (at least) one. Still, I'm holding off as long as I can. I got hooked last summer and couldn't go more than two days without a fix and that, my friends, is a recipe for disaster, seeing how it's shorts season.

Have any readers had one of the cult cones? What are your summer must-eats?

2007-04-22T09:44:00.000-04:00

Ah, yesterday. Hot damn, there are some days I love New York! (Hot damn, there are some days that are hot in New York. How'd we manage to skip an entire season?) Got a call from the Baldman's missus asking if I wanted to meet them at the Daschund Parade in Washington Square Park.

Did I want to meet them at the Dauschund Parade? Do they not know me at all?

So I raced my I-Was-On-My-Way-To-Old-Navy-But-HOT-SWEET-JESUS-THERE'S-A-DASCHUND-PARADE-self downtown. While the Parade was a little underwhelming (no daschund races?!), there's something about being surrounded by a large number of squat, friendly animals that makes the day a bit more awesome.

After that I met up with a dear friend of mine for some chocolate sampling. She'd nosed out a little cafe on the 8th floor of Saks - a store I visit roughly never - and we sat and had chocolate and coffee. (Truffles for her, a chocolate truffle brownie pour moi.) While I still hold firm that the best use of chocolate is Jacques Torres' chocolate chip cookie (if you can manage to get them warm, your life will change), it's hard to complain about a brownie made with truffles.

I AM GOING TO HELL- Reason #82

2007-04-22T09:29:00.000-04:00

I'm merely suggesting that perhaps the kid got what he deserved...

I do love him on 30 Rock

2007-04-21T08:56:00.000-04:00

Okay, this whole Alec Baldwin voicemail fiasco has me riled. He released his "apology" today and alls I have to say is Dude, please.

My favorite part of the apology was where he said he was "saddened" that the tape was released because of the "damage it does to a child". DUDE, the tape getting leaked doesn't damage your child - calling your child a pig damages a child! His Broadway co-star filed a report against him for harrassment (I believe she eventually quit the show), he punched a wall during rehearsals, he's been in anger management classes numerous times... Kim Basinger may suck as a mom (pics of her lighting her 11-year-old daughter's cigarette for her certainly seem to point in that direction) but nobody's going to let a kid live with a nutjob like that.

Maybe someday Ireland can share a room in rehab with poor Frances Bean Cobain...

2007-04-18T08:28:00.000-04:00

Even I would not be able to pee here.

It's all about the potty humor today, folks.

2007-04-18T08:23:00.000-04:00

On Monday I had what will officially go down as the weirdest. audition. ever.

"Hello and welcome to the Constipation Learning Channel Info Center, where we examine every aspect of this common, troubling, and even perhaps embarrassing condition."

You envy me, don't you?

2007-04-16T09:29:00.000-04:00

I am ready for spring. I am ready for daffodils and cute dresses and sandals and little jackets that you don't really need but look adorable in anyway and sitting in outdoor cafes and buying ice cream from the Mr. Softee truck (Weight Watchers be damned) and beginning my balcony garden and strawberries at the farmers market...

Instead, I get rain. So much rain. Oh man, so much rain. And cold! It's still cold! Seriously, what gives, Nature?

Anyway, all this rain has given me time to mull over the big decisions and... I've decided to buy a new pair of summer shoes. Normally this is not a topic for discussion but I'm feeling a little awkward about this purchase. Now I love me some cute little flimsy sandals, but with my big ol' bunion-y feet I need something comfortable and durable. Something that can handle the New York City streets.

Something, maybe, like Birkenstocks.

I KNOW! I KNOW! Birkenstocks are the start of a very slippery slope! You think you're simply purchasing a comfortable shoe and the next thing you know, you're wearing sweatpants and mom jeans. I DON'T WANT TO WEAR SWEATPANTS AND MOM JEANS! But... are they sort of cute? The new styles? Can they be considered retro-hip? What's the concensus?

2007-04-14T08:08:00.000-04:00

I have a bone to pick with Banana Republic.

Everybody knows I loves my BR. We are tight. We are buds. We are practically kin. They provide me with a non-stop sale rack and I help put their CEO's kids through college. It's a solid working relationship.

Not no more.

Because I am a LUXE cardmember (see: "putting their kids through college"), I get invited to various LUXE-only events. In-store previews, first-looks... the usuals. But a few weeks ago I was invited to preview their new summer line. I was about to toss the invite until something sparked my interest: they were promising free cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Now that alone would've gotten me there. Five years of shilling miniature food left me with an intense desire to experience life on the other side of the silver tray. But free food didn't compare to what I noticed next:

Goodie bags.

Please. That is the trifeca of awesomeness for a grubby little freebie lover. Sure the gift was probably a ball of crap gift rolled in tissue paper but as long as I didn't have to pay for it...

I'm not sure if you heard but I threw my back out last week. Sunday through Thursday was spent cro-magnon style, hunched over like ______ (insert something hunchy here). It was a big ball of suck. But on Friday, suddenly everything relaxed. I could walk! I COULD WALK! Hail the healing power of free crap!

In an effort to take advantage of my renewed independence I decided to forgo the train, electing to walk to the event. 50 blocks later I arrived at the golden gate: the flagship BR store. Needless to say, I was psyched. I'd spent a significant portion of my walk imagining the possible gift options, and while I was fairly certain it wouldn't be amazing ("Grab anything you want! After all, you're a LUXE member!") I wasn't giving up hope.

Then I saw the crowd of angry women.

Remember the invite? The one that was used to determine how many goodie bags to provide? Apparently you were supposed to BRING IT. It didn't matter that our names were on the list - the list we were only able to access because we'd received THE INVITATION - only people who actually brought the damn thing would be given the free gift.

I almost started bawling right there in the store.

So BR and I are done. Finished. I suspect BR will try to win me back with tokens of affection but I've seen its true heart (its lying, reneging heart) and I am through. Do Not Ye Promise Yon Goodie Bag That Ye Cannot Delivereth! That is the message of the day, folks. That is the message of the day.

2007-04-11T18:33:00.000-04:00

I bet nobody has back problems in this magic land.

2007-04-10T20:58:00.000-04:00

It is now Day Three of "Cripplewatch" here at the McCody house. Not being able to move sounds like a good thing, like some awesome kind of snow day where you'd get to stay home and perfect your manicure while watching "The Hills", right?

Right.

Instead, I almost had to call my husband for help me go to the bathroom because I couldn't manage lift the toilet lid. (FYI, for those who followed the "If it's yellow" discussion, we always keep our toilet lid down. Not only is it good feng shui - and your cats will never drown - it prevents flush-induced microscopic excrement from cross contaminating your toothbrush. And yes, Matt won.)

Until this passes, I won't be writing much because sitting hurts. As does standing. Not to mention laying down. Basically, anything other than nonstop massage is intensely uncomfortable. And you're crazy if you think I haven't hit Matt up for that.

2007-04-09T19:27:00.000-04:00

Until I come up with something good to say...

In the interest of full disclosure, I was making my bed.

2007-04-09T19:20:00.000-04:00

I threw my damn back out. I've been hobbling around the house all bent over and shuffly for the past two days and I am over it. I can't even get any big blogging done because I can't sit up for more than five minutes. Seriously, it stinks.

Could somebody hand me my teeth and my cane?

Give it up for Feather! Cadillac! And Tom Cruise!

2007-04-07T16:09:00.000-04:00

Okay, I've heard a lot about this recently and while it sounded funny, it didn't sound THAT funny.

Well friends, it is THAT FUNNY.

If your computer's like mine, you'll probably have to turn the volume up - which I wouldn't recommend at work, unless your boss doesn't mind listening to a cartoon about an 8-year-old gay boy who wished for a planet full of unicorns.

Call me cold-hearted

2007-04-05T09:50:00.000-04:00

I don't care about Britney Spears' divorce, I really don't. That said, the terms of her settlement have come to light and folks, they are staggering. First off, Kevin will be getting $13 million dollars. Now that's a lot of money, but whatever, she's Britney Spears. He will also be receiving $500,000 a month in child support.

$500,000 a month.

Apparently in the pre-nup the sum was originally $250,000 but because she wanted to get married faster, SHE UPPED IT to $500,000.

You know, I was starting to feel bad for the girl. The whole rehab, hair-chopping thing? So sad. But frankly, if you can pay someone half a million dollars a month on TOP of the $13 million you're already giving them and still have enough money for booze, a new mansion (she's apparently house hunting) and awful tattoos, in my book you're doing just fine.

I'm not sure how it works, but it's decidedly awesome.

2007-04-05T09:28:00.000-04:00

How cool is this?

Me wantee sun and fun

2007-04-04T08:27:00.001-04:00

Okay, what's this about snow this weekend?! SNOW? Awww, c'mon! I am so ready to wear cute things and drink margaritas and complain about the heat! (Which you know I will.) Snow? SNOW?!

I've been thinking about vacations recently; as in, "When do I get to have a mutherfucking vacation?" I was researching some places in the 'hood, places like Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard, but even in the off-season it's around $1500 for the weekend. Even the cheapest places (at least the ones that didn't make me want to vomit antiques and chintz) started at around $250 a night and if I'm paying that kind of money, I'd better be sleeping on a bed of male models.

Has anybody vacayed anywhere interesting and affordable?

Did I just use the term "vacayed"?

Yesterday at the playground...

2007-04-03T09:09:00.000-04:00

Little girl, approximately 3 years old, comes running up.

Girl: "HAVE YOU SEEN MY FRIEND CHAD?"

Me: "I don't know. What's he look like?"

Girl: "HE'S GOT A ROUND HEAD AND HE'S WEARING SHOES!"

2007-03-30T09:01:00.000-04:00

It's Friday! Friday-Friday-Friday! And I think it just might be time for another round of

Things Alisha Loves!

- Pinkberry frozen yogurt

My friend Stef turned me on to this stuff and now I can't go a week without it, goddammit. It's frozen yogurt, but it's not the sicky sweet TCBY-crap you're used to. It's actual yogurt (whoa!) which means it's tangy and not very sweet which may sound like a milky bowl of nasty, but trust me, it's good. But what really makes it are the toppings, which range from chopped mango (just mango, no goopy syrup) and blackberries to Cap'n Crunch and - if you're in the know - sweetened sticky rice. My favorite combo is Stef's: a medium plain with blueberries, mangos, and mini chocolate chips (again, sounds gross, so good) but I can only get that if I'm sharing it, and I'm never sharing it, so my usual treat is a small with mangos. And for those who care about such things, it's only 3 points. (2, if I'm counting it.)

- Kiehl's Creme with Silk Groom

Yeah, yeah, you've read all about this stuff. I'm so not the one breaking the news on this product but really, I have to gush. It's got super hold while keeping your hair incredibly soft. I'm always on the lookout for curl-enhancers and over the years I've gone through my fair share (Frizz Ease, you can bite me) but this stuff never fails. But there's a secret (a stylist on a shoot taught me). You can't just put it in your hair willy-nilly and expect perfection. Here's the drill*: after you've showered and lightly towel dried your hair, take a glob of the creme and run it through your hair, top to tip, coating it. (Don't go crazy - it's not mayo - but don't be too stingy either.) Then take a small section of hair, wrap it around your finger like a curling iron, hold for a second, then release. Repeat wherever you want curls. Then either blow dry with a diffuser (being sure to move the hair as little as possible. I cup my hair in my hands and hold the drier still. Moving the drier causes frizz) or let dry naturally (my usual choice because I'm lazy). It works like gangbusters. *Please note, if you have super-fine/oily hair, this might not be the best product for you.

- Banana Republic's Flutter Sleeve Dress
I just bought this baby in beige and ooooh it's a winner.

- Edy's Slow Churned low-fat ice cream
A small bowl of the cookie dough flavor blanketed with some Dove dark chocolate fudge topping and an episode of Adoption Stories... Yeah.

- Adoption Stories
While I wouldn't call this show a guilty pleasure (it's on Discovery Health channel, after all), there's something about it that makes me feel a touch cringy. Maybe it's the the tinkly background music or the constant soft focus or diaper-ad voiceover they use. Truth be told, I rarely watch the whole thing (all I really care about is finding out is why they couldn't get pregnant. Once they've got the kid, whatevs) but if it's on, I cannot not watch it.

- Etsy.com
I found this through my other fave website, She's A Betty, and while I've never actually bought anything from it, it's clearly pretty awesome. It's a website for all things handmade and let me tell you, some of the people are incredible. Pollard, Shermie, if you're still reading this, get your stuff on there pronto.

- Luckyscents
While I enjoy a jaunt to Sephora every now and again, the overwhelming perfumy scent drives me to distraction. Which is why I'm glad a good friend turned me on to this site. They have all kinds of amazing sounding scents (whoever writes their descriptions deserves a book deal, right after I give one to the person behind the J. Peterman Catalog) and the best part? You can order samples! I'm considering ordering up this one and maybe this one...

I'm grasping at straws here.

2007-03-29T09:22:00.000-04:00

I don't watch American Idol. Shocking, right? It seems right up my alley, train wreck-wise. You've got the British guy saying mean things to people (ah, shadenfreude!), you've got Ryan Seacrest (I loathe to admit the fact that I had a minor crush on him when I lived in LA and he was a lowly radio jockey. At the time he seemed refreshing). Plus you've got the nightmare that is Paula Abdul! What's not to like?

And I've got to admit, this season sounds pretty good.

There's a contestant who's sparking quite a bit of controversy. He's talent-free, rumored to be the worst singer in Idol history, yet people keeps voting for him. There's a strong chance he might actually win. Here's the brilliant part: According to those in the know (E! online, I'm talking to you) his fans are actually giving the contest a big Fuck You. If the really untalented guy wins it effectively strips the show of any credibility, plus it's really, really funny. (The producer has said that he'll cancel the show if the guy takes the prize.) I don't even watch the show and I'm tempted to vote! After all, I seem to have a gift for it (says the woman who made Max Crumm's dreams come true).

Anybody watch?

If it's brown FLUSH IT DOWN.

2007-03-26T09:04:00.000-04:00

(Sorry for the nonexitant posts. I've been battling a stupid cough that won't let me sleep so I've been running on low batteries for the past several days.)

Firstly, I'd just like to take a moment to congratulate Max Crumm, winner of Grease! You're the One That I Want! I still won't be buying tickets to your show, but I'm proud of you nonetheless. And while I feel that I had a small hand in your victory, there's no need to repay me. I'm just happy knowing that for once, the "wrong" guy got the part. No need to repay at all.

Unless you want to repay me. Because if you wanted to repay me for my impressive dialing skills, the ones that helped you achieve your dream of starring on Broadway for at least a month (rumor has it that's all they're giving the winners - a month contract - but I've had no verification on that), I wouldn't refuse you. Say, for example, you wanted to thank me with shelves from the Container Store. That would be the perfect way to say thank you. Personal yet useful, not too expensive or showy - sort of like you, Max!

I need shelves from the Container Store.

I love what Blueprint did with them. (That's them above.) The picture on the right (the blue side) was from a teeeeny apartment here in the city. They put them floor to ceiling in the living room and kitchen and used them in place of a dresser. I'm desperate to do this in our bedroom. Just think of it - all my craft and office supplies on shelves! Instead of the floor! It would be heaven, I tell you.

In other news, I've recently become something of an environmental - I don't want to say "zealot" because that would imply that I'm actually doing something of actual consequence - let's just say "aid-er". I recycle everything I can get my hands on, eat locally and/or organically and use those flourescent bulbs Gore told me about, but after listening to a story on NPR about how the honeybees are disappearing (not dying - DISAPPEARING. Nobody knows what's going on. It's a huge problem for citrus and almond growers because honeybees pollinate their trees and if the honeybees are gone, there won't be any fruit. Which feels like the beginning of big ol' batch of badness, if you ask me) I feel like I need to do more. Maybe it's from growing up in the 70's, all those "Don't Waste Water" campaigns, but I've always been antsy about conserving water. I shut off the faucet when I brush my teeth and recycle water for the plants and cats, but our toilet is a monster. For those who've never used our bathroom, flushing at Chez McCody feels like you're taking your life in your hands. The force of the flush is unreal - I swear it's trying suck you in. But my main concern is the amount of water it's using with each flush. Matt keeps pointing out that we're not in a drought, but I say it's still wrong to waste it. Right? (Where's Gore when you need him?)

So the other day I proposed something radical: If it's yellow, let it mellow.

Needless to say, it did not go over well.

Let me point out that I do not relish the idea! Discovering a bunch of yellow water in my toilet really nasts me out, truth be told, but as someone who pees nonstop I feel it is my duty to the planet to take some action. (Don't worry, I wouldn't do it when we have company. I'm not that committed.)

Unfortunately Matt put his foot down on this one. We don't normally have tiffs, but we might have gone a few rounds over this one. He thinks it's just too gross and can't do it. I think that he being a tiny bit selfish. He pointed out that he willingly does everything else, including reusing the plastic bags from grocery delivery as grocery bags, even though it annoys the crap out of him. I say... actually I backed down at that point. But I was pretty pissy about it.

Where do you all stand on this hot topic? If it's yellow, do you let it mellow?

2007-03-22T09:15:00.000-04:00

Kids, this well has run dry. I gots nothin' but nothin'. All I can think about is food (I'm back on WW again and it sucks double hard), getting rid of this ridiculous cough (for those who don't know, I can't seem to cough like a normal person. Instead of a nice hearty cough, I have this wimpy little "Heh-heh". It's like living with Dubya), and whether or not Max will win on a stupid reality show.

Speaking of stupid reality shows, I'm going to be on one. I can't tell you the name, but I can tell you it'll be airing on Thursday, May 3rd at 5:00 EST (that's 4:00 CST) on the Discovery Channel, and I'm thinking of having a viewing party. First and foremost, I had no idea I was going to be on this show - I was completely bamboozled - so... yeah, shocked and bamboozled. And tired! I was very tired! That's why I seem a little stupid. It is not because I didn't know the answers. TIRED.

Anyway, I was thinking of DVR-ing it and then getting everybody over for drinks and mocking on Friday night. (Because who wants to get drunk on a Thursday?) I guarantee I will look like an ass at least once. Probably more than once. There might just be a cameo by my husband, and my co-star is my hilarious friend Gary who was also bamboozled and tired. (Not stupid! TIRED.)

Anyone game?

2007-03-20T08:54:00.000-04:00

I had a dream last night that my husband fell in love with a phone sex operator. You know how I knew? He had a big pile of quarters by the bed.

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #12:
My subconsious needs to lay off the NyQuil.

Seriously, who would you rather see win?

2007-03-19T09:27:00.000-04:00

Last night I did something I swore I'd never do. I voted for a contestant on a reality show. And not just any reality show:

"Grease! You're the One That I Want!"

I know, I KNOW. I said they wouldn't suck me in! And they did it anyway! It's like some sort of freaky mind control! (This is why I don't investigate Scientology.) But really, I had to do it. It's between Austin, the hot former soap stud who annoys the shit out of me, and Max, the geeky guy who'd never have a shot in hell at this part - but he's leagues more talented. I feel like it's my duty, nay, my obligation, to help the geek out in any way I can. And if my phone call (okay, calls. Okay, numerous calls) can help, than by God I will have done something with my life.

Say, do you think is this why these shows are so popular? Do most Americans (and by "most Americans" I think I mean "me") have so little going on altruistically that the way we feel like better people is by voting for a contestant on a game show, thereby helping someone else achieve their dream?

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #11:

Just because I'm shallow, doesn't make me selfish. I mean, just because I'm selfish, doesn't mean I'm not shallow. Wait... Just because I'm selfish and shallow, doesn't mean I'm not self-aware? Er, JUST BECAUSE I'M SELFISH AND SHALLOW AND SELF-AWARE, DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T WANT MAX TO WIN!

Miss Buff has lost a human-sized portion of pounds on this plan and I can't handle skipping a smoothie.

2007-03-18T08:35:00.000-04:00

Firstly (because I'm a terrible friend) -

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, MISSY!

It was on the 15th but... nah, there's no excuse. (Happy Birthday! Twice!)

I slept a whopping ten hours last night (compliments of my good friend Mr. NyQuil) and am feeling a little less-than this a.m. Not like that's stopping me from heading to the Gap in search of new gym clothes. Shopping for gym clothes is sort of like shopping for cat food - it's just not that exciting. But considering the fact that I worked out yesterday in a pair of sweatpants held up by an industrial strength paper clip, I probably ought to give it some thought. I've been trying to hit the gym more lately. (And by "lately" I mean "yesterday".) The search for the perfect almond croissant combined with my inability to exhibit portion control around a pan of brownies has led to a bit of weight gain, which must be nipped. I've started tracking my food again, Weight Watchers-style, and discovered if I skip lunch I can stay within my point range. (Clearly my old point tracking technique - which I won't bore you with, unless you're a WW devotee - allowed for some serious fudging. If only it allowed for some serious fudge.) The fact that my morning smoothie is too many points makes me so grouchy I can't even stand it.

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #10:
I would willingly beat someone for a bacon cheeseburger.

The pretzel croissant didn't rock me.

2007-03-17T18:16:00.000-04:00

As I grabbed a pretzel croissant this morning at City Bakery, I overheard a snippet of madness. It was between a woman (roughly fifty, long, well-maintained silver hair, expensive everything) and the young Korean foreign exchange student she was tutoring.

Rich lady: "See, in THIS COUNTRY we have something called a PRE-NUP-TU-AL AGREEMENT"

Student: "Ah, yes!"

Rich lady: "And my son, he makes A LOT OF MONEY"

Student: "Ah, what does he do?"

Rich lady: "He's in something called INTELLECTUAL ARCHITECTURE"

... and that's where she realized I was totally listening and lowered her "I know you don't speak English so I'll enunciate as if you're deaf" tone. Which is a shame really, because I am dying to know what "intellectual architecture" is.

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #9:
Why didn't I study intellectual architecture?

Ouch.

2007-03-16T09:25:00.000-04:00

I do apologize for abandoning my post. There's no excuse. (Actually, there are a ton of excuses, but I would like to make it to work on time.) I've been taking a novel writing class, seeing as how I have lots of ideas but no real skillz (it's cool with the "z", yes? No?), and the homework is killing me. Scratch that - the homework is fine, it's the trying-to-write-a-book-stuff that's killing me, but enough about that.

Speaking of killing, do you ladies get waxed? We had a bout of gorgeous weather here recently and it got me thinking - Am I the only woman in the world who doesn't do this? I mean, I know I'm not (somebody's keeping Gilette in business) but it's a big thing in this city. I got a wax once - once - and vowed never again. For those who've never had a bikini wax, I have one thing to say: Awkward. You climb up on this table wearing nothing but an overgrowth of what God gave you, then they put you into these... poses. Gynocological poses. "Let's ship a few of these to Hustler" poses. And then they yank out your hair. Did I mention that part? The YANKING OUT OF THE HAIR part? Men, grab a handful of ball hair and pull.

Yeah, it feels just like that.

And women PAY for this! It's not cheap either. (Not that it should be. I sure hope the bulk of the money is going to the poor Eastern European woman who's eyeball-to-unmentionable eight hours a day.) Did I mention that you bleed? Oh yeah, the skin is thin down there. And yet I feel like an unhygienic beast not doing it. Granted, it's not like the clippers I usually use are doing me right; I tend to spend the bulk of my time looking like a plucked chicken. (Those things are hard to control!) So fill me in - do you do it? How often and why? And men, feel free to weigh in. (Not on your own personal experiences, of course. Unless you have some and then I want to read all about it.)

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #8:

I may be a slave to fashion, but my down there is nice and traditional.

In the immortal words of KTBuffy - "WOOT!"

2007-03-13T09:27:00.001-04:00

CONGRATULATIONS TO KATE AND DOYCE ON THEIR ENGAGEMENT! I can't wait to come to the wedding! (Wait, I am coming to the wedding, right?)

Which leads me to Knowledge Nugget #8:
Marriage is good. Despite what bad sitcoms tell you. (Plus you get presents!)