Gardening 101

So this weekend, in the 95 degree weirdo weather, MIL-ette decided to help me plant my first ever vegetable garden. For those of you that don't yet know, I am a city girl living on a big old farm in the "country," as Ette1 likes to say, and I have a fenced-in vegetable garden bigger than most people's apartments in NYC. For this I was terrified when I first saw the thing. BUT...Sunday we decided to take a stab at it. Now, I don't have a green thumb. I've been known to kill a silk plant, so everyone is kind of wary of me actually trying to grow foodstuffs. But I am determined to prove everyone wrong. So last week I went out and got myself prepared for the occasion. I got some new gloves, one of those cushy, smushy knee pads to keep yourself happy when kneeling in dirt, all sorts of tools, and of course.....packets upon packets of seeds.

Well MIL-ette took one look at all my seed packets and said, 'That's it, we're goin' to the nursery.' So off we went and bought little starter plants of just about everything under the sun. I've got 13 different kinds of tomatoes growing in there, lettuce, broccoli, cauliflower, eggplant...like I said, I'm a real Martha.

But I still had all these dang seed packets, and these days I'm not one to let things go to waste, so we decided we would plant some things from seeds and call it a "learning garden." (That's MIL-ette's nice way of telling me I might fail miserably at this exercise, but it sure will be a learning experience, and I probably won't make the same mistake twice!)

So there we are, shvitzing like Jews in the desert, drinking our Italian spritzers on ice and taking multiple "shade" breaks. We've got seed packets for days, and each one I open has seeds smaller than the packet before it. I'm talking SMALL. Like, microscope small. Have you ever tried to plant zucchini?? Well these instructions on the back of each packet require an MBA in statistics just to get them straight. They say things like:

"Plant in trench in full sun after last frost 1/4" deep, 3" space, 4 seeds."

WTF does that even mean? So there I am measuring out neat little rows, dropping these minuscule dots into the earth (which btw is cow manure, b/c that's apparently how gardens grow - in shit) and then cursing because I drop the sucker and can't find it to ensure it's 1/4" deep.

By the end of the day I was just sprinkling seeds like rain showers over the damn thing and praying that I don't invent some evil hybrid watermatoe, or pumpkumber or something that attracts rabid bunnies.

Since Sunday I have become near obsessed with the garden. I am out there two times a day watering the thing, and I just stand there at the fence and look at everything, as if in 2 days things were supposed to grow. Yes, I am impatient. And no, I will not share my garden booty with you. Only MIL-ette, because she shvitzed in shit for me. That's love.

Facebook is not your pulpit

I love Facebook. I love the communication, the ability to find long lost relatives and high school friends and the sharing that ensues. Because that's really what's all about, when you get right down to it, right? Curiousity about how other's lives turned out, and how to be part of people's lives again in a very controlled environment. And if we were a selfish, controlling generation of people before, now we're sharing and caring and posting photos of all our loved ones and favorite holidays and sending people stupid little digital gifts of "margaritas" and "winks" and cutesy shit like that. But I like it, I think it's reshaping our jaded, self-centered worlds and making us more giving and acute. Even if all we're giving is a stupid virtual, fake cocktail. It's sharing, and sharing is caring. And I'm on board.

But please. Facebook updates are not for sharing your spiritual awakenings with me, because I'm not interested, and I will delete you from my friend database. They are not for telling me that God granted us a beautiful day and I should go to church and thank him. They are for telling me that you burned the brownies and you aren't the Betty Crocker you thought you were; or that you spent too long in the sun without sunblock and now feel guilty and crispy. Or that your hangover hurts like hell. But please...let's keep God out of it. I don't want to read your updates and hear messages from scripture. Seriously. Save it for talking about your kids boogers or farts. Or hangovers. That's what it's all about. Okay?

It's possible I just nuked the fridge for kvetchette with that last post.  But I stand by it.  I'll write something funny soon. 

OK, I almost never do this, but my dad sent me a haunting reminder recently that it's the anniversary of the end of the Holocaust, so I felt compelled to share.  It was just 60 years ago, but we don't discuss it.  In the UK some schools dropped the topic from history lessons all together - it's true I looked it up. 

Six million kvetchers like you and me were rounded up, starved and tortured before they were murdered.  Talk about having something to complain about. There are only about 14 million of us in the whole world right now.  Nearly half of us were killed.  It made me think about what life would be like if half of the Jews I know were gone.  

Life would suck way harder without people like Jason Segel, Zac Efron, Scarlett Johansson, Tori Spelling and Jon Stewart, not to mention the ettes.  (Most of them are basically halfies but still.)  Love your Jew neighbor and let's remember.  

My stupid DVR broke.

Do you know what that's like?  I mean I usually make the time to watch my shows the night they air and all, but a girl needs safety back up.  What if one of the housewives goes to a fashion show and I don't see what happens cause I can't pause or rewind the thing after I can't hold it anymore and am gonna explode if I don't go pee?  Or worse, what if I can't be home at all, and completely miss out on a session with Dr. Weston.  You learn so much every time you visit him, how will I ever catch up?  Every single day Oprah has an ah-ha moment that I miss.  How will I learn, how will I grow?  Reading can suck it, I need delicious TV entertainment and I need to watch it on demand.  

So tonight I fished out my Time Warner bill to get the account number and made the dreaded call to the customer service center.  By some miracle an angel named Louisa, bless her non-english speaking heart, she fixed me.  I mean she fixed my DVR and I will forever live in gratitude of her.

As I looked at my bill, I noticed a point about Run Runner internet service for 43 bucks a month - that we don't use.  Apparently the owner of the sublet had never cut it off, meaning I've paid for it for 9 months and never used it.  That's nearly $400 I gave away for nothing.  Crushing.  So to make up for it, I cancelled Showtime - I mean when is Weeds ever even coming back?! 

The moral of this story is my DVR is back.  I know that's not a moral, more of a life-affirming statement, but still.  I am whole again. 

A Taste of My Daily Frustration

Here is an email conversation that has taken place over two months with a PR firm in the city which will remain nameless (for their benefit - trust me - although I do think this level of communication would make an interesting "What Not To Do" article). To qualify this post a bit further, this firm initially reached out to me about a three-month project - I did not submit my qualifications for any posted job. Here is the conversation as it went down - sort of. Names and important details have been altered to protect the privacy of the idiot involved.

February 25th

PR Girl: Hi Ette2, can you kindly get back to me with your weekly rate. We are looking for coverage from April 6-July 6.

Ette2: As I mentioned to you on the phone, I'm very interested in this opportunity. In this type of economy, it's always a bugger quoting rates when competing with budgets you aren't privy to. That said, I am willing to offer you a competitive rate of 14 bananas per week. I am confident in my talent and believe this is a very competitive rate for my experience level. Please let me know if that works for you. Regards, Ette2

PR Girl: Ooh..yeah, that rate doesn't really work for us.

Ette2: Um...how 'bout we try this...why don't you tell me what you are looking to spend and I can tell you if that number works for me? That way we don't have to play cat and mouse here.

PR Girl: Well I'm thinking more like 4 bananas per week is more up our alley.

Ette2: Well I would be willing to negotiate my rate slightly but it seems we are pretty far apart there. In that case, you may have better luck seeking out someone more junior than me. I appreciate your honesty and I wish you luck in the search. Please let me know if any other projects more suitable for me come up in the near future. (sign off)

March 17th

Ette2: Hey PR Girl, just wanted to check in and see if you ever found someone for that incredibly lowballing hunt you were on. Let me know.

PR Girl: Oh yes, yes, I found not one, but TWO desperate minions actually who were willing to demoralize themselves and their careers and do senior-level work for peanuts. Thanks, I'll keep you in mind for other projects. (sign off)

April 21st

PR Girl: Heyyyy Ette2....I am still on the hunt for someone for that dang three month assignment. Don't you feel sorry for me? (Giggle) I was wondering if possibly you could come in THIS AFTERNOON and meet with me? Oh, and attached please find a 16 page proposal/sample/writing assignment/we-try-to-get-work-from-candidates-for-free-all-the-time-exercise...if you could please do this (in the next two hours, barring travel time) and bring it with you I'd appreciate it.

Ette2: Hmm. Well that's certainly short notice. Answer me something, PR temptress...is your budget larger than when you started? Because again, I don't want to waste your time if it's not - however, if you're willing to be a little more flexible in your price, I am too. We are, after all, in a recession. I can respect that and be negotiable.

PR Girl: Well what kind of fee are you looking for?

(Ette2 is ripping her hair out from her neglected roots at this point, amazed that this girl is intent on going round and round the same useless circle from two months ago. Thus, Ette2 responds with the same 14 bananas quote.)

PR Girl: Oh, that won't work for us. How flexible are you on that?

Slice. That is the sound of skin as I stab myself in the neck with a pencil. Smash. That is the sound of the glass as I throw the keyboard through the window. LARGE SMASH. That is the sound of me throwing MYSELF out the window.

Oh isn't this a shame

Guys, let's leave the plastic surgery for important things like nose jobs and lipo.

Bathrobes

Why do bathrobes never seem to fit me? I see other ladies in bathrobes (at the spa, or on TV, or at a friend's house) and the robes seem to meld to their body and keep all their bits in place while keeping them covered and comfy and warm. Not I. No, I've tried many different robes. Cashmere, terrycloth, terrycloth lined with cashmere. And the robe always makes me look and feel like one of those beat up, saggy crack addicts. In movies, people answer the door in their robes, have full on conversations with strangers. I would be horrified if anyone saw me in my robe. My boobs hang down and refuse to stay behind the criss-cross front; one inevitably peeks it's head out as if to sing "don't you, forget about me...don't don't don't don't..." The belt NEVER stays tied. I could use a Boy Scout approved triple samurai knot and that damn belt finds a way to loosen itself, which of course loosens the robe, which of course leads to full exposure. Aside from the fact that I have to tie the belt up under my boobs because anywhere else and I look like a fat beached whale - gotta nip that sucker in at the "true" waist to at least lessen the blow. My final quip? Below the belt. That damn area always rides up and opens, exposing my legs and inner thighs, which really is the worst offense of all. So there I stand with one boob flopped out of the top, my thighs shaking vulnerably for the world to see, and my belt coming untied. What about this says comfortable attire?

F robes. It's a conspiracy as far as I'm concerned. Maybe if they made one that had a rubber lining...then we can talk. Until then, robes can suck it.

Changes In The White House

Why I will love this show...

A real quote from one of the new housewives:

"Before I like you, I don't like you."

This woman in like my soul mate.

New crush

OK, I know I'm like a year too late and 15 years too old for this whole Twilight thing, but I had a lot of time on my hands this weekend so I watched the movie. It is what it is, not good, not bad, and I'm really a True Blood girl, but this lead vampire guy Robert Pattinson did something to me. There's just something about him, he's so hot and intense in that good "I want to suck your blood, but won't because I'm in love with you" sort of way. I know that he's 12 and I'm gross, but I had to share my secret inappropriate love. Oh and did you know he was in the Harry Potter movies, he was Cedric - found that out as I was looking for Tiger Beat-type pics of him to post on my office wall. So not hot in HP, he must have hit puberty in between filmings.

Anyway, he's cute.

A Brilliant Gem I Should Have Thought Of

This is pretty much the smartest thing I've ever heard of. There is now a website where stoned people can go and share their "high times" ideas with everyone on the Internets, and then people go on and judge the ideas. So you can really determine if that invention is worth all your life savings, your bicycle and your kidney.

Like I said, it's the Best. Idea. Ever.

Here are just a couple ideas to get you feeling the vibes:

Doritos POWder

A fine powder of Nacho Cheese Doritos flavoring. You can put it on buttered rice, toast, tortilla, burgers, steak, beacon, veggies, popcorn or Doritos, anything; accept fruity pebbles, but that is another powder, flapjacks, frenchtoast, etc.

Read more »

mute button for ears

how about making a gadget to totally mute your ears with a single button, no earplugs or anything, could be done with sonic device of some kind

Read more »

Check it out.

Highdeas.com

The things I will miss this week

Bread, oh bread, you make my sandwiches taste so sandwichey. You go so nicely with a smear of Nutella. When you are toasted, warm butter melts all in your nooks and crannies and you start the morning off right.

Pizza. Hot and crusty, cheesy, delicious

Donuts. Covered in chocolate, filled with cream. Fried dough perfection - I may miss you the most.

Bagels. If I could eat you this week, I wouldn't even scoop you.

Pretzels. Hard, soft, Philly-style. There are so many tasty version of you.

Cereal. I barely ever eat you cereal, but sometimes when I get the urge I know I can. This week though, I can't.

Cake. Hope nobody has a birthday this week. For I cannot eat cake. And without cake, it's hardly a celebration.

Pasta. Oh pasta, hot and al dente, swimming in sauce. You boil up so easy. You fill me up so quickly. I love you pasta.

Happy Passover

Poor Hef

He's 83, let the man stay home, eat soup and snack on some old timers candy, like babyruth.

Why models should just stand there and look hot

Did you hear that shit Gisele said about Bridget Moynahan and her kid with Tom Brady? I’d paraphrase but her own words are too good.

"I understand that he has a mom, and I respect that, but to me it's not like because somebody else delivered him, that's not my child. I feel it is, 100 percent. I want him to have a great relationship with his mom, because that's important, but I love him the same way as if he were mine."

Oh no she di’int. Who says that?! “I want him to have a good relationship with his mom” ?!?! – oh how generous of you. And who calls a kid “it.” Bridge must be shitting a freaking brick. I don’t know what it is about this stupid quote that has me all up in arms, but it’s so crazy. Like if Pants and I break up and he brings some dumb ass girlfriend around my kid, I’d spend all day figuring out how to kill her and get away with it. And I could do it too, I’ve watched enough TV to know how that works. One time when Bam was little Pants had some friends over and one of his friend’s girlfriends was holding my little pup and I almost broke the dog’s neck pulling her away from that girl. I am not having that. Get your own dog loser. Same for you Gisele. She’s probably thrilled that Bridge did the dirty work for her, got the stretch marks, ruined her vadge and now Gisele has a little Tom Jr. to be photographed with. That way she can have her agent start pitching her for mom commercials since she’s too old for Victoria’s Secret.

Have You Seen This Commercial?

Man, those anti-smoking crusaders are really getting the hang of ripping the old heartstrings out. This commercial almost makes you stop breathing while watching what it is like to be a little booger-face who realizes he's all alone in the world. Apparently, these are real tears he's shedding - his REAL mum LITERALLY walked away from him in this crowded place in the name of capturing this emotion on film. (The anti-smoking peeps responded to criticism by saying "the ends justified the means.") Brutal.

I got lost once when I was his age. Except I wasn't upset about it (probably explains a lot, now that I think about it) - rather the mall cops found me talking to Mickey Mouse on the display telephone in the mall Radio Shack. I could have cared less that I was alone in the world; I had Mickey. Keep on smokin.

Interesting analysis

I'm not a big beer drinker or anything, but this is a very interesting breakdown of why beer may be better.

If you had purchased $1000 of shares in Delta Airlines one year ago, you will have $49.00 today.

If you had purchased $1000 of shares in AIG one year ago, you will have $33.00 today.

If you had purchased $1000 of shares in Lehman Brothers one year ago, you will have $0.00 today.

But---- if you had purchased $1000 worth of beer one year ago, drank all the beer,then turned in the aluminum cans for recycling refund,you will have received $214.00.

Based on the above, the best current investment plan is to drink heavily & recycle.

It's called the 401-Keg

Speaking of Real Housewives of NYC....

That Kelly Bensimon is one cuckoo lady. Her idiotic and squirrely behavior is actually making me feel disdain for her ex-hubby, Gilles Bensimon, a talented fashion photog who I quite liked. But I always imagined him to be very aristocratic and wise in a hoity French, bourgeois kind of way. Now that I know he suffered through years of one-dimensional, irratic conversations with this one just so he could have her on his arm...well, he just lost a boatload of lovin' from this Ette.

I mean, the crazy bitch called an arthritic girl "cute," after finding out there was to be an arthritis charity event in her honor. Huh?

Great Idea

Do you ever have 'Why didn't I think of that?' moments? I do. All the time. Well here's one this morning that I came across...I don't know how long Arianna Huffington has been utilizing this term on her infamous power blog The Huffington Post, but it's sheer genius. This should have been a Kvetchette idea, but alas, we were beat to it.

Dickipedia. On it, Huffy highlights some of the biggest peens in history...such as A-Rod. Mickey Rourke. Leprechauns. Cindy McCain.

You know what else is a great idea I wish I had thought of? Goldfish snacks. Once you start eating them you can't stop.

Yup, that's all I got. That and the Real Housewives of NYC are my all-time favorite train wreck, and whoever cherry-picked these ladies out of the masses and hoards to be the reality stars they are today, deserves an Emmy. These women make life worth living sometimes - and that is NOT an April Fools Joke....