Some time ago, Suebob or Des wrote a post about why she doesn't have a Facebook account. I nodded my head. Hell, I can barely handle a MySpace page. Facebook just seemed like overkill. No way I was going to set up a profile there.
Well, as Alex often writes, the only way to guarantee that I will do something is to swear that I would never do whatever it is. In fact, it is completely Alex's fault that I even went to that cursed Facebook site in the first place. Her brother supposedly had some pictures of himself as a goth for Halloween, and she was told to check them out on his Facebook profile. We were on the phone while she tried to do this, and one thing lead to another, and before I knew it, I had my very own Facebook profile and was busily searching for friends from high school who I haven't spoken to in about 420 years. Of course, that shit is almost as addictive as M&Ms.* Bah!
Anyway, Husband and I are off to visit our friend Mara for Thanksgiving, so I will be wrested away from a computer for the most part. This is good so that I don't spend any more time on that wretched Facebook site (is there a damn user guide available anywhere?). I'll probably sneak in blogging (some addictions cannot be denied!), and I definitely have a good essay ready for BlogHer about a ridiculous ban on the holiday refrain, "ho, ho, ho." Happy Thanksgiving!
*Yes, my pretties. If you have a Facebook profile, let me know so we can be friends!!!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
No, THIS is the Game
Dear Patrick Scofield (Poughkeepsie, NY, age 20) and Marco Hoffner (Lacey Township, NJ, age 18):
I read your quotes in the New York Times article . The article details how hundreds of men line up on the ramps outside Gate D during halftime at Jets game to shout obscenities at the women forced to pass by you. It seems that you have a fucked notion that you have the right to chant at these women, "Show us your tits." It also seems that if a woman does not comply, you find it appropriate to spit at her and hurtle plastic bottles at her head.
Patrick, you happily boasted to the Times that harassing women at the stadium "is the game." After one woman refused to reveal her breasts, Marco, you told the Times reporter that you were "very disappointed." I am glad that both of you are so honest and think harassment is so much fun. Since you like games so much, I promise that I am going to play one with both of you. If I find either of you, I am going to send you thousands of emails demanding that you show me your balls. If you don't, I am going to throw virtual bottles at your heads because I am "very disappointed." Isn't it going to be fun? I fucking LOVE games, too!
If women were smart (and lucky for you, they are not), they would read about your attitudes and decide that no one should ever, under any circumstances, have sex with you. You would both be shunned like the pathetic, hateful pieces of shit that you are until you apologize and learn how to behave like a civilized person. In the meantime, suck my dick, assholes.
Best,
Suzanne
I read your quotes in the New York Times article . The article details how hundreds of men line up on the ramps outside Gate D during halftime at Jets game to shout obscenities at the women forced to pass by you. It seems that you have a fucked notion that you have the right to chant at these women, "Show us your tits." It also seems that if a woman does not comply, you find it appropriate to spit at her and hurtle plastic bottles at her head.
Patrick, you happily boasted to the Times that harassing women at the stadium "is the game." After one woman refused to reveal her breasts, Marco, you told the Times reporter that you were "very disappointed." I am glad that both of you are so honest and think harassment is so much fun. Since you like games so much, I promise that I am going to play one with both of you. If I find either of you, I am going to send you thousands of emails demanding that you show me your balls. If you don't, I am going to throw virtual bottles at your heads because I am "very disappointed." Isn't it going to be fun? I fucking LOVE games, too!
If women were smart (and lucky for you, they are not), they would read about your attitudes and decide that no one should ever, under any circumstances, have sex with you. You would both be shunned like the pathetic, hateful pieces of shit that you are until you apologize and learn how to behave like a civilized person. In the meantime, suck my dick, assholes.
Best,
Suzanne
Kids Do the Darndest Things
This is the "conversation" I imagine took place between my friend Mara and her adorable 10 month old daughter and saboteur, Adena, right before the photo below was snapped (you may need to click on the picture to enlarge it and see the details):
Adena: Mom, can I have a sibling?
Mara: Not now, honey.
Adena: Oh yeah? We'll see about that!
I love how intently Adena is studying the directions upside down. Husband and I are spending Thanksgiving with Mara and her family. We are so excited! It's not every holiday that I get to spend time with friends and their babies who have bright futures as either sex educators or counterinsurgents (for progressive causes, of course).
Adena: Mom, can I have a sibling?
Mara: Not now, honey.
Adena: Oh yeah? We'll see about that!
I love how intently Adena is studying the directions upside down. Husband and I are spending Thanksgiving with Mara and her family. We are so excited! It's not every holiday that I get to spend time with friends and their babies who have bright futures as either sex educators or counterinsurgents (for progressive causes, of course).
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Mysteries of Amazon.com, or I'm #97!
One of the many ways that I waste time is to obsessively check the status of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track on Amazon.com. Will my name be spelled correctly? (Alas, as of this afternoon, no.) Has the description been updated? (Also, no.) Were the typos fixed? (Yes! Hurray!) Is the cover posted? (Not yet.) What's the release date? (July 1, 2008.) Generally, nothing changes from visit to visit.
Thus it was quite a surprise to discover that Off the Beaten (Subway) Track by Susanne [sigh] Reisman has a sales rank of #249,423 and is 97th best selling book of all the travel books about New York City. How could this be if the book isn't yet available for pre-order? Maybe I was wrong, as I am about everything else thus far.
It was experiment time. When I tried to pre-order the book, lo and behold!, it processed. And I learned I could save an additional 5% (58 cents!!!) by ordering now, bringing the total to $11.53 plus tax (and S&H unless you are an Amazon prime member or the total order is $25 due to other purchases). What a deal! It's the perfect 4th of July or Bastille Day gift for that special freedom-loving person in your life. Yeah.
Thus it was quite a surprise to discover that Off the Beaten (Subway) Track by Susanne [sigh] Reisman has a sales rank of #249,423 and is 97th best selling book of all the travel books about New York City. How could this be if the book isn't yet available for pre-order? Maybe I was wrong, as I am about everything else thus far.
It was experiment time. When I tried to pre-order the book, lo and behold!, it processed. And I learned I could save an additional 5% (58 cents!!!) by ordering now, bringing the total to $11.53 plus tax (and S&H unless you are an Amazon prime member or the total order is $25 due to other purchases). What a deal! It's the perfect 4th of July or Bastille Day gift for that special freedom-loving person in your life. Yeah.
Holiday Wishes
Although stores have been encouraging people to shop for the winter holidays since the 4th of July (OK, I exaggerate - retailers have only been pushing the holidays since approximately 9 pm on Oct. 31st when they thought it was unlikely to get any last minute Halloween sales), the season officially begins on Friday. Store understand that people are more vulnerable to sales pitches after they've overeaten and spent time with beloved family members. After all, we need to assuage our guilt at all the calories consumed and the number of times we had to repress the urge to strange a beloved family member.
My birthday also sneaks up after Xmas, so I'm beginning to get inquiries from my family as to what I want for Hanukkah's and to celebrate the day I emerged into this world 32 years ago. I don't have an answer. Thanks to Husband, I am more or less set on things that I want. I get to travel frequently. If I want a new sweater or pair of shoes, I just buy it. I don't really wear jewelry other than what I am always decked out in (six random earrings, four rings, and my feminist necklace; most of which are cheap). Technology doesn't interest me much. When I want to read a book, I get it. I'm very lucky and comfortable.
What I really want, though, is for the majority of the world to stop annoying me. Anyone inclined to get me a gift can give the funds to a progressive political candidate instead. For those who think that is a waste, how about a donation to the National Network of Abortion Funds? As I told my mom, there's no better way to celebrate my birth than by preventing innocent souls from being born themselves.
My birthday also sneaks up after Xmas, so I'm beginning to get inquiries from my family as to what I want for Hanukkah's and to celebrate the day I emerged into this world 32 years ago. I don't have an answer. Thanks to Husband, I am more or less set on things that I want. I get to travel frequently. If I want a new sweater or pair of shoes, I just buy it. I don't really wear jewelry other than what I am always decked out in (six random earrings, four rings, and my feminist necklace; most of which are cheap). Technology doesn't interest me much. When I want to read a book, I get it. I'm very lucky and comfortable.
What I really want, though, is for the majority of the world to stop annoying me. Anyone inclined to get me a gift can give the funds to a progressive political candidate instead. For those who think that is a waste, how about a donation to the National Network of Abortion Funds? As I told my mom, there's no better way to celebrate my birth than by preventing innocent souls from being born themselves.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Priests Are So Sexy
Brother-in-Law (BiL) and Sister-in-Law (SiL) searched high and low for an appropriate souvenir for me while they were on their honeymoon in Italy. Their original idea was to purchase a fancy Venetian glass figurine of a beaver for me. After learning the Italian word for beaver (castoro), they asked at many shops, and many shop keepers laughed. They learned that castoro can also mean "goatee," which is fascinating, but not helpful to their quest. No one made glass beavers. (Incidentally, they did get a cute glass pussy for Mother in Law...)
Since no glass beavers were to be secured, they bought me the next best thing:
Your eyes do not deceive you. This is the cover photo from a sexy priest calendar.
"We thought this was a Steph-worthy gift," BiL said proudly as he handed me the calendar. SiL beamed.
My jaw hit the ground. Other than stammering, "Damn! This is the most perverse gift I've ever received," over and over again, I was speechless. Well done, BiL and SiL. Well done.
Since no glass beavers were to be secured, they bought me the next best thing:
Your eyes do not deceive you. This is the cover photo from a sexy priest calendar.
"We thought this was a Steph-worthy gift," BiL said proudly as he handed me the calendar. SiL beamed.
My jaw hit the ground. Other than stammering, "Damn! This is the most perverse gift I've ever received," over and over again, I was speechless. Well done, BiL and SiL. Well done.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
No, No, NO! Not Cosi!
My non-blogging friend Sara (as opposed to my friend Sara who blogs) recently mentioned off hand that Cosi bread is atrociously unhealthy. Not that I go to Cosi often, but every once in awhile I do crave me a nice flatbread sandwich. They give baby carrots on the side, so how bad could it be?
I'm sure you know that questions like, "how bad could it be?" should never be posed because the answer is inevitably "very bad." If you were in my apartment with me when I decided to look up the nutritional information of various Cosi sandwiches, you would stop me, noting, "Ignorance is bliss." Then you would gently pat my hand and we would laugh. So where the fuck were you yesterday afternoon? (I know, I know. I can't really blame anyone for the impending disaster except for myself.)
My favorite Cosi item, the tuna sandwich with excellent cheddar, is nearly one thousand calories. Help me! My eyes are bleeding in horror! (Fortunately, the blood is metaphorical so that I can see to type this.) Dude, if I am going to consume 956 calories and 55 grams of fat from one item, it is going to be from a big, fat slice of cheesecake (the kind with a thin layer of sour cream on top - yum), not a motherfucking tuna sandwich!
This really ruins everything. Pout.
I'm sure you know that questions like, "how bad could it be?" should never be posed because the answer is inevitably "very bad." If you were in my apartment with me when I decided to look up the nutritional information of various Cosi sandwiches, you would stop me, noting, "Ignorance is bliss." Then you would gently pat my hand and we would laugh. So where the fuck were you yesterday afternoon? (I know, I know. I can't really blame anyone for the impending disaster except for myself.)
My favorite Cosi item, the tuna sandwich with excellent cheddar, is nearly one thousand calories. Help me! My eyes are bleeding in horror! (Fortunately, the blood is metaphorical so that I can see to type this.) Dude, if I am going to consume 956 calories and 55 grams of fat from one item, it is going to be from a big, fat slice of cheesecake (the kind with a thin layer of sour cream on top - yum), not a motherfucking tuna sandwich!
This really ruins everything. Pout.
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