K V E T C H E T T E

Can't keep a complainer down

2010-05-09T22:33:00.004-04:00

Back by popular demand. You missed me - didn't you?

You know what really grinds my gears? Today is mother's day and I'm not a mom - and that's fine and all, I'm waiting till I'm good and tired of not having responsibilities, cause nothing ruins a perfectly delicious plate of ihop cheesecake pancakes quicker than a three-year-old throwing yogurt - but it got me to thinking. I haven't properly celebrated me in at least two months or more. My three weddings are but a distant memory now that spring has sprung, all the left-over valentine's day candy has that weird, white film over it (who am I kidding, there's no left-over valentine's day candy, and even if there were and it had white film, that wouldn't stop me from eating it, but still) and all I have left of my 3rd 29th birthday party are some embarrassing pictures to untag on Facebook.

This is the longest I've gone without someone sending me a card in like a year and it honestly pains me. No one told me today how special I am, how pretty I look or gave me anything to unwrap. Yuck right?! I'm not that cool with the lack of admiration and adoration I'm feeling.

And you know what, I won't have a me celebration for months to come. Like a million people have birthdays between now and my next one including Ette 2, my mom (and it's a big one), my husband, my niece, the new kid, my uncle and brother-in-law, blech. I guess I'm just supposed to be excited for all you guys huh? Well I'm not. I got good and used to having parties for myself and you all showing up and being excited and lifting me up on chairs and stuff. Argh it's killing me to recall it all now since it's been so freaking long since it's happened. Seriously, someone call my bridesmaids and have them organize some shit. They were all thrilled to help out during wedding and bachelorette party planning, I'm sure they wouldn't mind chipping in again. Doesn't have to be anything huge. How about just the core group of 20-25 meet at a restaurant or better yet take a back-room in some cool, new loungey bar, get a couple balloons and some cupcakes with my picture digitally printed on them. Is that too much to ask? And everyone can you all wear black and then I'll wear red so I really stand out and let's have karaoke there, but I'll do like every other song. Oh actually, let's do this, if someone else wants to sing we'll find a duet - that would be good. And someone remember to bring your camera and really try to upload the photos to send to me the next day. I hate waiting to get pics from my parties.

Whew, I actually feel better just knowing now that this is in the works. Thats guys, you're the best and I appreciate it. See you soon.

Remember, you guys wear black.

What's happening here

2010-02-17T18:16:00.000-05:00

Angelina's mask is peeling off. Underneath she's a robot - obviously.

I've got an excuse

2010-02-17T14:10:00.001-05:00

So I know, I know - Ette1 and I have been MIA for the last couple of months. She was off getting hitched, and I was off getting knocked up. Yeah, that's right. Ette2 is pregnant. How does this benefit you, readerettes? Well it's giving me lots of material to work with, and I'm going to kvetch about it all to you, right here. Or at least try to. Baby brain makes me really forgetful, so it's also my excuse if I don't come through. Anyway, let's start this kvetch party, shall we? Situations in which "I'm pregnant" are a perfectly acceptable excuse:

When your partner wants to have sex. It's sex that got you where you are now...and he wants more? Just let a fart loose and blame it on the baby. He'll leave you alone for a few days.
Speaking of gas, any time you need to let loose, now it's perfectly acceptable to do so. After all, you're carrying a child - and your insides are out of your control. Enjoy this gassy freedom!
When there is snow to be shoveled/leaves to be raked/yard work to be done/heavy items to be lifted.
When you crave french fries dipped in ranch dressing and hot fudge - together.
When there is a long line for a public restroom. Just grab your belly and do the leg-cross hop, and look really, really, shamed - as if you sort of just leaked a little. Women will feel sorry for you. Trust me.
When people you don't really like at work keep trying to get you to join them for after-work cocktails. You can now answer, "yeah, no-can-do, unless you want my baby coming out with a cyclops head, looking like Courtney Love."
When you're out at night and bored, and tired, and cranky, and not enjoying yourself. All you want to do is go home and put on your tempurpedic slippers and curl up in your snuggle. Well now, you have a great excuse. Get ye to the car, husband!
When someone serves you something really nasty (like your friend who can't cook for shit). You can blame it on your pregnancy food aversions. "Sorry Jennifer, but Paco the Taco doesn't like tuna casserole with marshmallows."
When H-ette is listening to a song you don't like...you can turn it down or change the station without repercussion -- just blame it on that awful headache you have.
When you have a total Tourretts-like outburst and say something really mean or honest or both. This is the joy of pregnancy hormones. Use these 9-months to your advantage, and get all the crap you REALLY want to say off your chest!

I can't help it, I think she looks hot

2010-01-20T12:19:00.003-05:00

I know everyone is in a uproar about Heidi's surgeries, but I think she looks kinda good. I mean I was a Heidi fan in the way early beginnings of the Hills and thought she was cute before - but what do I care if she mashes her face up, and why would you care either? She's from an MTV reality show, should we be that concerned about her plastic surgery? We've got other things to worry about, like her maniac, creepo husband. Don't get me wrong I kinda love Spencer too, but these are not my role models. So let them experiment with their faces, just like he does with that freaky blonde beard. I think she looks good, she's a younger, better version of what all the Housewives of OC want to be. I hope she does get bigger boobs. I hope they look like two giant watermellons under her sweater, and she needs a walker to help her stand up straight. And I hope she let's MTV film the surgery next time. All good stuff as far as I'm concerned.

Wordsworth

2010-01-11T18:06:00.002-05:00

Since I'm too busy to have an original thought right now. I'll just copy someone else's work for your enjoyment.

The Washington Post recently published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.

My favorite of course is testicle, see below.

And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled, by discovering how much weight one has gained.

3. Abdicate. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4 esplanade. To attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.

6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.

7. Lymph. To walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent, n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

Size issue

2010-01-05T10:54:00.003-05:00

Ok, I'm firmly on the fence about this one. V Magazine did a whole Size Issue featuring plus-size models. Here's where my head's at... I usually like to look at magazines and the clothes and skinny-ass models and think to myself, yeah that's probably what I would look like if I wore that outfit and then walk around all day feeling a little better about myself with that skinny fashionable mental picture in my head, while avoiding actual mirrors. If you are going to put regular women in the magazine and I imagine myself like them, then I would probably strut a little less. Regular isn't fantasy, it's just plan what I already look like. On the other hand, I'm all for women's lib and celebrating beauty in all sizes and all that crap. So I guess I don't really know where I stand except to say it's clear now that I can be a model. I'm taking the rest of the day off to work on my comp card.

Goodbye Oh' Nine!

2010-01-04T13:48:00.000-05:00

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Let's just let PaulyD bring the humor today

2009-12-23T10:33:00.001-05:00

It’s hard to be a JOOOOO at Christmas.

2009-12-21T17:04:00.003-05:00

For the following reasons.

Because, all the non-JOOOOs get to take this week off, which means, us JOOOOO’s who just last week were lighting the Hanukah candles have nothing to celebrate, so we have to be in the office and do all the work everyone else left undone.

Because I can’t watch 5 minutes of my favorite TV shows (Jersey Shore) without seeing one of those annoying GAP group rap/dance commercials about buying flannel or socks.

Because people keep inviting me to their place for holiday parties and dinners. I just got a wii, I seriously need time at home to bone up on my bowling technique.

Because people keep sending junk food to the office and since I’m a chocolate-loving JOOOOO I can’t turn it down.

Tourists

Bah Humbug.

The Husband Store

2009-12-20T21:29:00.001-05:00

A store that sells new husbands has opened in New York City , where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:

You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.'

So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good Looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.

She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework.
'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'

Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads

Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.

To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a New Wives store just across the street.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited

Tips for successful wedding pics

2009-12-14T15:13:00.002-05:00

Always get in the middle. Make sure to sandwich yourself between two other people, with your arms wrapped behind them. This is a helpful tool for hiding arm fat. If you have to have your arms down, make sure you are holding something with both hands – a bouquet is helpful, but hold it about 5 inches away from your midsection, that way you create a little tension in the arm – again helpful for arm fat. Don’t hold a glass of champagne (unless it’s during a toast), then you just look like a boozer.
Put the adorable 2-year-old to bed early. That way she won’t steal your thunder in all your pics.
Have a couple tubby bridesmaids. Don’t make the mistake that I did, all my maids and basically all my friends who attended were skinny bitches. You want a couple of big friends to pose with so you look really skinny in comparison.
Watch out for photographers who want you to do that dip/kiss combo a lot. It’s fun in theory, but then you get the whole neck flab issue as you are trying to keep yourself up while your groom is dipping you dangerously low after he’s had a couple drinks.
Also for neck flab, be sure to dip chin out and down just a bit when you are posing, you avoid a whole mess of unsightly neck flab that way.
Make sure your maids swab you down before pics in warm climates. You’d be surprised where you sweat when you’re in a 300 lb dress in the tropics – so part of their job is to take a hanky and dab you whenever and wherever you need.
Spanx
Overhead florescent lighting is bad – soft candle light is good.
Make sure to pull hair in front of shoulders, that way you cover up that little flap of fat between the side of your boobs and arms that gets all pushed up and magnified when you are wearing a strapless dress.
Don’t have someone make a life size cake replica of you out of cake.

To the crazy lady in the Mercedes SUV

2009-12-10T18:29:00.002-05:00

Dear Crazy Lady,

When I was reversing out of my spot, I turned to look behind in all directions before going anywhere. Just because my reverse lights are on, and I inched out of my spot slightly to be able to see around the behemoth Escalades and Suburbans with tinted windows on either side of me, does NOT mean I was going to pull out into oncoming traffic (i.e. you, the only moving car in sight).

Was it really necessary to lay on your horn as if trying to warn a herd of deaf geese? Was it then necessary to do a slow, driveby as you stare relentlessly into my car, STILL laying on your horn no less, as you try to "prove your point?" Was it necessary to come to a COMPLETE STOP behind my car so you could stare into my soul a little longer just to get your point across? The only point you've proven is that you're a little cuckoo for cocoa puffs. That's right, wackadoo lady. Get a grip. Not everyone is a bad driver. Not everyone is gonna bash into your ugly SUV and leave you to drive around in a denter. You need to chill out. Take a chill pill. REEEE-LAX.

Now maybe you're upset because you're one of Tiger's mistresses. For that I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry today. And every day for that matter.

That is all.

Sincerely,
Ette2

Don’t plan your wedding anywhere near the holidays

2009-12-07T13:40:00.003-05:00

Just because my whole family flew to Puerto Rico and stayed for a week, bought proper wedding attire and got me extravagant engagement and wedding gifts, they all think they don’t have to go big on Hanukah this year. To that I say, that’s not want G-D wants. The JOOOO G-D wants us to remember the story of the Macabees and how they fought the Romans – don’t really remember why exactly, but he wants us to remember that. And he wants us to commemorate how the JOOOOOOOs had to learn Hebrew with dreidels, betting with gold coins. G-D wants you to give me gold. It’s a mitzah after all. You will feel better about yourself if you get me good gifts for Hanukah. To make it easier for you, I’ve developed a list.

HD TV for bedroom (This isn’t something I want, it’s actually something I need, since our current tv just kicked it)
Sneakers (This is for gym use, so it’s actually more of a health thing than gift)
Designer purse (my Belenciaga that may or may not have been stolen or faked - since I got it from a sketchy web site - lost a grommet, so I need a replacement and since I obviously can’t take it to a Belenciaga store (since it might be hot or fake), I need a replacement)
iMac

Thanks guys

Because what's the holiday season without some Aretha teasing?

2009-12-03T15:01:00.004-05:00

I mean, seriously, Aretha, first the spaghetti straps, now this. We need to hold a fashion intervention, stat. What is that part your head is poking through? You kind of look like Kenny from South Park. I'm sure everyone at the Rockefeller tree lighting were just enamored by your wardrobe choices...it's nearly as festive as the tree. Honey, the dress ain't that special that you had to show it off (and still manage to keep your neck warm).

WTF?

2009-12-02T21:33:00.003-05:00

So we know Kvetchette has had a little bit of dust on it, lately -- Ette1 was busy getting married off into the Miller clan, and I've just been...well, busy with life's have-tos and what-nots -- and we fully intend to get back on the horse and bring you the funny. We're just taking a breather, because honestly, none of you are loyal readers anyway, so if you don't care about us why should we care about you?

Well in my time away from the site I guess I hadn't noticed that our one lonely Google ad (that by the way, has netted us no money, so I don't even know why I am doing them any favors putting their name on my blog, we all know Google ain't putting my name on THEIR blog, so...), anyway, our one lonely Google ad featured this brilliant product, above.

Thai Brides? Seriously, Googles? This is the best you can provide me with? Have you wasted ALL the good thumbnail ads on more important people? All the Snuggie ads? I'll even take an old Girls Gone Wild promo! But seriously, Thai Brides?? What about Kvetchette says to Googles computer generated ad-placement, mail order brides from friggin Thailand?

Fail.

Parenting 101

2009-12-01T12:28:00.003-05:00

Seriously Katie? Is there a reason why your 3-year-old should be wearing high heels? This picture is ridiculous. This shit has got to stop. I'm sick of celebs who complain about paparazzi dressing their kids up for photo ops. I'm talking to you Gwen Stefani and your kid's bleach blonde hair, and to you too Angelina with your kid's mohawks. Are they so unappealing that you need to adorn them with jewelry and edgy hairstyles to make them interesting to others? Guess what, they are rich - they will find friends just fine. Good parents let their kids be ugly and awkward and wait until they are at least 15 before paying for their plastic surgery. Right Mom?!

A new way to make pumpkin pie

2009-11-25T14:59:00.001-05:00

Happy Turkey Day, readerettes. Enjoy your families. Our incessant complaining will return shortly.

She's taken, fellas

2009-11-20T13:25:00.003-05:00

This past Saturday, Ette1 did what she swore on this very blog that she would never have the chance to do. She was convinced, at times, that she would NEVER get married. That she would NEVER have a husband. That she would be an old maid, a spinster, while ALLLLLL of her friends around her got hitched. We all rolled our eyes at her, told her she was crazy, told her that it would happen to her. But Ette1 is a stubborn gal, and she didn't want to hear it. So she kvetched. To all of you.

And now, my friends, she too is hitched. So, readerettes, if I were you, I would be mad at her. Because really, she made you all feel sorry for her, like she was an old hag. She made you feel like she would be alone forever. And yet on Saturday, she sashayed down the Puerto Rican aisle as the most beautiful bride you've ever seen and married her best friend. She glowed. She sparkled (not literally, that would be bad - no, she sparkled figuratively). She grinned ear to ear. She looked like a goddess in her hourglass, trumpet-bottomed gown. Her curls in stunning, island ringlets, her lashes long and sexy. She was a vision. Oh, and Pants cleans up well too. ; )

We danced, we celebrated, we did the hora (which felt much more authentic because there were "real" Israelis there), we got our Jew on. We had a BLAST. We ate amazing foods (hello, Lupi's). We spent rainstorms in hot tubs (pretty fun). We swam with jellyfish (not so fun). We played "Who Am I" while drinking margaritas and laughing our faces off (so fun). It was the perfect wedding weekend.

So let Ette1 know how pissed off you are at her that you wasted your worry on a gal that made the most beautiful bride, a gal who had the sweetest ceremony, a gal who married the love of her life. Because really -- we have bigger fish to fry right now. Like the fact that Oprah is only going to be on television for another 365 days or so. Talk about worry...who will tell us how to feel once she's gone??

(Congrats, Ette1 and Pants. I love Jew both!)

Lost in translation

2009-11-10T09:39:00.002-05:00

מי שמבין את החומר הזה

So as you know I'm a big JOOOOOO, and like most members I have assorted family in Israel. We stay connected via our once a decade visit here or there and now through the luxury of technology facebook. Trouble is because they live in a third world country - them JOOOOOs don't talk English. So when I post pics of my adorable niece or my dad they write comments in Hebrew and like most American JOOOOOOs, Hebrew don't mean shit to me and I can't understand those weird looking symbols they write with. So I have to use some Hebrew to English translator online, which also apparently doesn't understand Hebrew, because here's a snippet of some of their translations, for real.

Family stunning charming little
Score lovely granddaughter and you good luck Foundation
Image stunning lovely granddaughter, Ilan, Biondi brother love miss precious Score
Hey Zion I know a liar would not understand why I'm writing you. I see your photos exciting I miss the lovely Alexandra. Tell everyone that hot hot with kisses.
How you like my father Score

My favorite new web site

2009-11-09T11:43:00.004-05:00

www.latfh.com

Look at this fucking hipster

Calories, shmalories

2009-11-06T23:13:00.004-05:00

I don't know about you, but I'm opposed to this whole "nutritional content" divulge we're seeing everywhere. Give me a break, America, will ya? Is it not bad enough that I'm bombarded with ads and directives to work out more, stop eating red meat, quit smoking, work smarter, network faster, make more money, invest that money, live better, wipe my toosh a certain way...that now I'm being assaulted with the reality of how bad everything I eat is.

Seriously...we're going to create a nation of nannypoos if we keep this up. We already force our kids to wear helmets from the second they leave the house until they're hospital tucked into their beds at night. We sprinkle all sorts of weird "supplement" powders into our cereals and pop gingko biloba pills chased with coffee. We friggin wear eskimo boots in NY so our shins don't get frostbitten. Our kids are literally going to be walking around like delicate, Michael Jacksonesque frailties because we put fear into everything we do.

And now, on top of all THAT I have to stress about...now I know that my muffin this morning had 740 calories. Or actually, the muffin I WOULD have had if I didn't see that little bit of info. Instead I had nothing, and suffered the guilt all day of wondering how many calories are in each breath of air I take in.

And honestly...so-friggin-what if that order of medium french fries is 500 calories. They're f-ing French Fries and they taste good...doesn't that count for something?? I know there are "certain people" in "certain parts of our country" that could benefit from some portion control. But seriously, I don't think this is the way to reach them. These are not exactly the folks reading the little grid of nutritional info on products or menus. Those people don't care. They just want their ho-ho milkshakes and fried Snickers bars.

Tomorrow I'm gonna live dangerously and get that muffin. F you, skinny bitches.

I lost my funny

2009-11-02T22:01:00.003-05:00

So all I have to share is this...dead fly art. Enjoy.

I will not relax!

2009-10-23T09:52:00.003-04:00

You know what really stresses me out? When wedding vendors say "Relax." I cannot relax sir. My wedding is three weeks away, I have sent you a large deposit for your services, you barely speak english (and I no spanish), and when I ask you things like did you download all the songs I asked for, you respond with phrases like "We have lots of music," or "You don't have to worry, you are working with the best," or "We've done tons of weddings." All of these responses, meant to calm me, actually enrage me. I am a hyper New Yorker who works in event planning. I don't work on island time. I need solid answers like, "yes in fact we went on itunes and downloaded each song to your specifications, I can show you the receipt if you like." So I called him yesterday to get to the bottom of our playlist and it turns out he's on vaca with the fam until two days before our wedding. So seriously, somebody better bring a boombox for backup. Thank goodness I'm having three weddings, so if this one bombs then I can do it again in good ole USA, where nervous yelling and demanding emails actually get you somewhere.

I'm a winner

2009-10-20T09:30:00.005-04:00

You may remember such posts from me as "Sports Sucks" or "Sports is draining the life out of my soul inning by inning and I want to break the TV just so that I don't have to listen to another second of the roar of the crowd or the sneakers squeaking on the court because my ears are bleeding."

But a World Series bid does wonders for a girl's tolerance for the game. When your hometown team wins, you feel like a winner. Same way as when you find out a famous person you really like is Jewish (Zac Efron) or when a Jew wins the nobel prize, all the Jews feel just a little bit better about ourselves, because we're basically related and we're all a part of that special little group. When a bunch of rabbi's are arrested for major corruption in NJ, well then we just decide not to read that article.

But the point is, Philly is awesome, Jews are awesome and I am also awesome. We are winners.
Let's go Phills.

Game over, Ette1

2009-10-12T17:04:00.005-04:00

This weekend marked an important milestone in Ette1's life. Her booty-shakin' days officially had their last major, unmarried hurrah on Saturday night, in cheesy, tacky, and altogether PERFECT Atlantic City. If you're gonna go out, go out with a bang, right?!

The girls hit the road Sat morning and everything went off without a hitch. We started the car ride with a few repeat plays of the best song on earth, Don't Be Tardy for the Party by Atlanta Housewife Kim. Pretty much the best song ever written. It took my group about 2 hours and 14 minutes to actually find Lincoln Tunnel and get OUT of NYC...I'm not really sure who's responsible for the detour signs navigating you toward the tunnel, but they should stop smokin' the reefer. We did no fewer than 4 major circles, as if we were sort of in a vortex spiral making our way to the mother ship. I mean, seriously. It shouldn't be that hard to get out of the city. What if there were a nuclear attack? Ette1's bachelor-ette's would be dead. Gonzo.

Once we arrived in AC it was another feat finding the parking garage. We decided to be frugal and self-park, b/c seriously, we're tough, and we can shlep our own overnight bags a few extra feet, right? We self-parked for $5 (could have stayed for 6 months and still would have only paid $5, btw) and then Ette1 led us on a scary, trek through stairwells better left for hookers and homeless people. I think there was actually a hooker and a homeless person making out when we entered the stairwell. (Business is not so good, I guess). Ette1, I hope that Pants has a better sense of directional intuition than you do, and can keep you out of harms way, because a pretty young Jewcy thang like yourself should not be opening dank, urine-stained unmarked doors. Ever.

Finally, we entered the Tropicana. Oh, glorious Tropicana, where do I begin? Your musty aroma? Your crazy, overweight clientele? Your fake potted plants? Seriously, Trop...you are a brilliant establishment and we loved every moment of our stay. Ahem. Cough. So without boring you with the gory details...Ette1 was showered with love, penis toys, sexy panties, garters, and champagne. She danced her tuchus. Ette1 felt the empowering, cool metal feel of a stripper pole beneath her virgin palms, as she test drove what it would feel like to be a slut-ette. Granted, she kept her clothes on, but she really enjoyed it because she hopped up there a couple times to show us what was up.

Overall, many lessons were learned throughout the weekend, and I'll share a few of them with you now:

1) Tequila is for SURE the way to go. No hangover. Shot after shot, and we all felt pretty great Sunday morning.
2) Girls from Long Island should not be in Atlantic City. Especially not if they are from "Sigh-ahhh-setttt." They have their own casino, right? They should go to Foxwood's. At least that's what we think after lots of shots of tequila.
3) Crazy people love casinos. And I think casinos thrive off crazy people.
4) Being told by a pedi-cab driver that we could get that t-shirt we're admiring in the window for even less money by "Jewing them down" makes you feel kind of gross. And just reminds us that we're glad we don't live in Atlantic City.
and last but not least...
5) Pants is one lucky man. Because Ette1 is not only one hot mama who knows how to work it on the dance floor; she's a major doll, a funny gal, and a stellar friend.

Love ya girl. One month to go!

A preview of what me and my girls will be looking like on sunday

2009-10-09T17:41:00.007-04:00

Roomers, since she's driving

Sissette, she'll prob lock the door so we can't get in to help her

Ette 1 and 2, since we're dancing till we drop

Everyone else

I freaking can't wait

Let's talk T.P.

2009-10-06T17:40:00.003-04:00

Something really bothers me about people and toilet paper. It's not the empty roll I am often met with. It's not the messy overcompensated re-roll of the last user who was too excited apparently and yanked off more than she needed, then tried to reverse the roll, leaving a loose, saggy mess. No, I'm talkin about the backward roller. Toilet paper rolls are meant to be grabbed from the top down -- didn't you know? When someone puts the toilet paper in the roll backwards, and I am made to yank behind the roll, or roll in reverse, it royally f's up my day. It's just plain rude. I once called out an ex boyfriend of mine -- when I was confronted with the incorrectly loaded T.P. roll in his bathroom -- that he had it all wrong. He went into such a state of confusion, and then, in a moment of unfamiliar clarity, realized that what I was saying made complete sense. He later told me (long after our relationship had ended) that every time he changes his T.P. he thinks of me. Sweet. Glad I could help.

So from now on, just remember: load (haha, no pun there) the goods so the end piece rests on top, and can be pulled forward. And I swear, if I go to any of your houses and that crap is the wrong way, I'm unraveling the entire thing and leaving it there, like a cottonelle rug.

I hope you had fun

2009-10-04T21:31:00.003-04:00

That's right Pants, I hope you enjoyed your bachelor party this weekend. It's fine that you don't want to tell me what you did, or who was there or where you went. It's ok that you didn't answer any of my text messages, and didn't call all night. I'm not upset that you came home this morning looking like a zombie and went immediately to bed. It's no biggie that you only got out of bed twice, once to pee and once to drink some gatorade. It's even fine that you have no explanation for that stain on your shirt. That's fine. I hope you enjoyed your special evening. Because now it's my turn. Whatever you did, I'll do - but worse. So you better hope that nothing slips out this week my friend. I know people, people who know things. It would be bad for you if any of them happen to let slip any details of your activities. Because then I will be active too. What's fair is fair. Watch yo self!

You got me sick

2009-10-01T22:36:00.004-04:00

Dear _______,

So apparently, the health notices and flu safety messages that the business management has wallpapered the bathrooms, cafe, and hallways with went unnoticed by you. Too busy to stop and smell the Purell, huh? Or maybe you thought you were immune? Well you weren't -- as was made evident by your 2 days of in-office hot flashes and sneezes. Well you know what, you may be feeling better now. Yeah, sure - you're feeling like a friggin rockstar. But guess what? I'm sick. I don't feel so hot. And you know why? Because I share air with you every day and you decided it was too important for you to stay and "work" rather than heed the swiney warnings and go home to quarantine yourself.

So here I sit, laid up in bed, sniffly and sort of making those whimpering sounds that are both upsetting and therapeutic...and H-ette is now affected by your stupidity too b/c he's taking care of me, while fearing for his own health and weekend plans. Although I will say, I really feel closer to H-ette when he becomes the caregiver -- it's a role he's VERY good at...the man rubbed my keppy all through The Office tonight and he even drove 20 minutes to get me real Jew Food from the good place. We're talkin' the real deal matzoh balls. That's love. So I guess I can thank you for that, at least. For givin' my hubby an excuse to be my knight in shining knishes.

See you on the other side, sucka. I'm dropping a hit of Nyquil and hitting the hay.

Ette2

I'm drawn to train wrecks

2009-09-29T22:19:00.003-04:00

I can't turn away. Take The Hills, for example. I managed to steer clear of this particular train wreck for YEARS...I never saw a single episode of Laguna Beach...when all my BFFs were chatty Cathy-ing it up about this Kristen Cavatelli and ragu biatch I was ho hum with my own "intellectually stimulating" shows, like ER. Or Six Feet Under.

But somehow, somewhere along the line, between Lauren's center part and her half head braid looks, I got sucked in. That's how it happens. It's like ambient noise in the background, and all of a sudden, you catch an interesting song, a diddy you've heard maybe once before but never placed. And here it is, and you're like "what's that song?" so you turn the volume up and pay attention. So while Brody's fightin' with Lauren who's fightin' with Audrina, you're just semi-listening to the banter, just waiting for the chorus to come in. And then, just like that, the crack pipe is put down, and you find yourself rewinding -- going, "did she just say that?" or "she's not seriously hooking up with him..." or "did Heidi really just look to Jesus for guidance regarding Spencer?"

So here I sit, H-ette snoring away in the bedroom, and I'm watching the season premiere of The Hills. And it's D-R-A-M-A fro the get-go, and I love it. I love every minute. I'm loving Bedroom Eyes this season, and even more so, this new Kristin girl is a dream come true for TV. So sweet, that girl. Really. We all need a Kristin in our lives...and a voodoo doll in her likeness.

I'm sorry too

2009-09-28T12:18:00.002-04:00

1) To all the businesses I've dissed on my @westchesterlife twitter acct...I hope that rather than my negative tweets killing your profits, you instead have taken my advice and made some changes to be better at what you do.

2) To the rabbit we killed in the car the other night. We saw you in the middle of the highway, and H-ette didn't slow down, because honestly you were looking right at us and we thought you were gonna hop on outta the way, and you didn't, and then it was too late, and we heard you under our tire, and I cried, and H-ette tried to console me. And I gave you a Twitter eulogy, but I'm still sorry, b/c you were somebunny's baby. Or momma.

3) To Stewpart, my brother's dog, for making jokes at your expense and telling everyone how annoying you are. You just wanna be loved -- even sucky dogs deserve love.

4) To the guy who gave me the shoulder massage at the nail salon the other day. You SO went above and beyond the 1 minute freebie and gave me a full on, 10 minute neck rub. You rocked. And I didn't tip you. My nails were still wet and I had already tipped the manicurist. And quite frankly, I just didn't want to smudge. I apologize. I owe ya one -- not a massage, but maybe a buck or two.

5) To the big G-O-D. I had coffee today. I suck, I know. I don't even have the willpower to starve myself for a freakin' day. I made that coffee and I knew the whole time I was crushing my beans, and filling the pot reservoir that what I was doing was wrong, but I did it anyway. And it tasted really good. Amen.

Sorry

2009-09-27T00:53:00.005-04:00

Yom Kippur is tomorrow, and that's the day when good Jews begin a 24-hour fast and ask for forgiveness from friends and family in the hopes that the big guy upstairs will absolve you and write your name in the book of life for another year. Well I have a pretty big November coming up and it would be best if I were alive for that, so I'm going to try to get all my repenting out of the way early. Here's all my bad deeds and I'm sorry's. Hope you will forgive me.

Sorry Bam for planning to leave you with the crazy chihuahua guy who wants you to sleep in his bed
Sorry about the whole no tv in barbados thing sisette's nanny
Sorry to all the annoying facebook people for calling you annoying
Sorry to Ette2 for being a lazy blog partner
Sorry to Pants for threatening to leave you if you air horn me, although seriously I will, so think hard about that
Sorry friendly Doorman for pretending to listen to music when I walk in the building to avoid talking to you
Sorry ass for not bringing you to the gym more like I promised
Sorry Megan Fox for pointing out your toe thumbs
Sorry book club for basically just skimming the first chapter of the last three books we read and then showing up to the discussion just for snacks
Sorry to Project Runway for not watching you now that you are on Lifetime
Sorry to the fat guy in the elevator who didn't move even an inch from his spot blocking the entire door when I needed to get out. He doesn't know why I'm apologizing, but let's just say I had some not nice thoughts
Sorry for hating cats and Renee Zellweger and Ryan Seacrest

I seriously think that's it. But for safety, I'll say this. I may not be perfect, I may write snarky things that may hurt someone's feelings behind their back - but it also probably makes someone else laugh - so can we just call it even? Thanks and hope you all have an easy fast!

Doggie daycare

2009-09-25T11:55:00.003-04:00

So one of the things that's been stressing me out about my impending nuptuals is who the heck is going to look after our beloved pet while we're basking in the sun for our island wedding. Because she's such a pill and all around not-fun-to-be-around kinda dog, we can only leave her with our closest family. That means momette from time to time, but mostly sisette and that's only as payback for all the bbsitting hours I donate to her. So we're in a bit of a quandry. Any friends and family we're close enough to to ask are coming to the wedding. We stopped into several doggy daycare places that told us she'd have to pass a personality test for them to accept her. Well, there's zero shot of that happening, so that's out. We actually had a not so not serious chat about what if we leave her in the apt with a week's worth of food and spread wee wee pads over the entire place. She doesn't really get along with people anyway and prefers her solitude, so this might be a nice little relaxing break for her. We decided those pesky animal cruelty laws might pose a problem there, so that idea's out.

So I've been asking around and this guy in my office heard of a "Chihuahua man" who apparently specializes in the little terrors. So I call him up and can instantly tell he's a freakshow. He has 6-10 chis to his house at a given time, he gives them the run of the apartment. He lets them sleep in his bed with him and he steams veggies and chicken for all their meals. He set up ramps so they can easily access the couch and bed. I can only imagine what his place looks/smells/sounds like. Oy, so I told him all about our special friend and despite what he's heard, she's in. He also suggested that she'll come back to us more socialized and happy.

So we're signed up. I'm not like some mothers who want to interview or even meet the people who will be caring for her children. All I need is a 5-minute crazy phone convo with incesent barking the background and I'm set. I agreed to pay whatever he asked. And we'll see how it goes, if they get along, maybe we'll let him adopt her, as in aka forget to pick her up and then change our numbers.

TV is my God

2009-09-23T14:56:00.001-04:00

Sisette dropped off the bb this am so she could go to work early, or go the gym, or just eat breakfast without a 2-year-old putting her fingers in the cereal or something like that. So I babysat for an hour and half while getting my own self ready for work before the nanny showed up to get her. Our time together included making eggies, 45 minutes of trying to get her to eat eggies, bb unscrewing all my makeup tubes and then painting her face and my duvet, cleaning her face and my duvet, individually placing a stack of 100 UNO cards around the living room, yelling at the dog for eating her eggies, picking up 100 UNO cards and then finally, peacefully watching Dora. That’s when the nanny shows up and starts lecturing me about letting the kid watch TV.

Whatevs nanny, maybe in Barbados they don’t have TVs, but here in America we have lots of them, and they are flat screened and they show cartoons with little children with big heads who speak Spanish and carry backpacks. And kids LOVE them. They sing along, they say vamanos and delicioso, they get a little scared when the map pops out of the backpack, but in general they love it and they are freaking mesmerized and best of all they sit still and are quiet. So yes sisette and sisette’s uptight nanny – the bb watches TV at Auntie’s house, you don’t like it then you can find another backup bbsitter.

L'Shana Tova, Readerettes

2009-09-18T10:27:00.002-04:00

Just in time for the New Year comes Twitteleh...the Jewish mother's alternative to Twitter.

Pretty accurate.

2009-09-17T12:54:00.002-04:00

Wife: 'What are you doing?'
Husband: Nothing.
Wife: 'Nothing...? You've been reading our marriage certificate for an hour.'
Husband: 'I was looking for the expiration date.'

-------------------------------

Wife: 'Do you want dinner?'
Husband: 'Sure! What are my choices?'
Wife: 'Yes or no.'

--------------------------------

Wife: 'You always carry my photo in your wallet.. Why?'
Hubby: 'When there is a problem, no matter how great, I look at your picture and the problem disappears.'
Wife: 'You see how miraculous and powerful I am for you?'
Hubby: 'Yes! I see your picture and ask myself what other problem can there be greater than this one?'

---------------------------------

Girl: 'When we get married, I want to share all your worries, troubles and lighten your burden.'
Boy: 'It's very kind of you, darling, but I don't have any worries or troubles.'
Girl: 'Well that's because we aren't married yet.'

--------------------------------

Son: 'Mum, when I was on the bus with Dad this morning, he told me to give up my seat to a lady.'
Mom: 'Well, you have done the right thing.'
Son: 'But mum, I was sitting on daddy's lap.'

--------------------------------

A newly married man asked his wife, 'Would you have married me if my father hadn't left me a fortune?'
'Honey,' the woman replied sweetly, 'I'd have married you, NO MATTER WHO LEFT YOU A FORTUNE!'

---------------------------------

Girl to her boyfriend: One kiss and I'll be yours forever.
The guy replies: 'Thanks for the early warning.'

-------------------------------

A wife asked her husband: 'What do you like most in me, my pretty face or my sexy body?'
He looked at her from head to toe and replied: 'I like your sense of humor!'

--------------------------------

A man was sitting reading his papers when his wife hit him round the head with a frying pan.
'What was that for?' the man asked.
The wife replied 'That was for the piece of paper with the name Jenny on it that I found in your pants pocket'.
The man then said 'When I was at the races last week Jenny was the name of the horse I bet on.'
The wife apologized and went on with the housework.
Three days later the man is watching TV when his wife bashes him on the head with an even bigger frying pan, knocking him unconscious. Upon re-gaining consciousness the man asked why she had hit again.
Wife replied. 'Your horse phoned.'

Obama calls Kanye a Jackass

2009-09-15T21:54:00.000-04:00

Some things I'm learning from the new A&E show Hoarders

2009-09-14T21:11:00.003-04:00

1) When your floors are completely covered in feces, empty beer and wine bottles, vomit, trash, and food, it's time to get a maid.

2) If you are keeping 32 cats in your home, you should officially be committed like Angelina in Girl, Interrupted. Especially when 12 of those cats are dead and you are still feeding them.

3) Being a hoarding gay man who lives in his own filth and excrement and still manages to have a somewhat normal-seeming, somewhat normal-looking boyfriend means either you are a homosexual anomaly or you have a really big banana.

4) While hubby jokes that I have issues because I get anxiety when our house is messy, I think the alternative - getting anxiety when our house is too clean - is worse. Hubby, you're officially warned..clean is good. Dirt is bad.

5) I need to get off the interwebs and clean my house. Just watching this show is making me feel really, incredibly dirty.

Some new, Kvetchette-approved emoticons

2009-09-09T11:35:00.003-04:00

Thanks to MIL-ette, for the content...



We call these 'ASSICONS' Here goes:


(_!_) a regular ass

(__!__) a fat ass

(!) a tight ass

(_*_) an ass  hole

{_!_} a swishy ass

(_o_) an ass that's been around

(_x_) kiss my ass

(_X_) leave my ass alone

(_zzz_) a tired ass

(_E=mc2_) a smart ass

(_$_) Money coming out of his ass

(_?_) Dumb Ass

Hosting a 'Q

2009-09-07T20:43:00.003-04:00

So as I recuperate (still) from the bbq festivities two days ago, I want to share some words of wisdom I've amassed:

1) When your spouse (aka husband - b/c wives aren't guilty of this crime) tells you that he is going to handle EVERYTHING for the event, that means roughly that he will handle 40% of the duties. As in, he'll choose the beer and he'll push the cart at Costco, and he'll man the grill. But when it comes to duties like making sure there's plenty of T.P. for your guests, having all the food/forks/extra wine openers for when the first one breaks/more than one bag of chips, you will be stuck stressing and making lists every time.

2) Telling people to show up at their leisure AND simultaneously asking them to bring a dish means that at 3pm you'll have hot dogs, at 4:30 you'll have pasta salad, at 7pm you'll have salsa, at 7:14 you'll have carrot cake, and at 11pm you'll have special, ridiculous Cuban corn, hot off the grill and served off a platter.

3) When you live in the 'burbs, inviting some neighbors and not others basically puts you on par with Edie from Desperate Housewives. People will now pretend they like me, but they'll be whisperin' and wondering why I didn't invite them to the fest, and probably calling me names under their breath when they see me at the A&P.

4) Pre-BBQ, don't ever tell your guests you are so excited about "catching up" with them. You will have no time for such luxuries, as you will be too busy "hosting" and fetching toilet paper.

5) Try to be smart about your food estimations -- people are only coming to your house for a few hours, not for Armageddon. Be savvy with your menu or you'll be eating burgers and dogs until Yom Kippur. 2011.

6) Interview all dogs and children before invited. Make sure they can coexist peacefully, or at least be persuaded to do so with cookies or watermelon.

After all lessons have been learned, remember to thank all who attended and helped make it spectacular. So thank you to those who made it, and made it memorable - we love you!

Should I get a preemptive divorce because of an air horn?

2009-09-07T11:22:00.007-04:00

Pants and I were watching some stupid prank show on MTV in which half of the segments revolve around some mentally challenged person blasting an air horn into another person's ear. Of course the blastee freaks out and screams and then realizes that the person they hang out with is an idiot and kind of a dick. And the blaster on tv laughs and laughs, and then I look over at Pants and he's rolling around on the floor, also laughing uncontrollably. I seriously don't get it. Pants is smart, and successful and generally pretty mature, but there is something about an air horn that brings out the 12-year-old boy in him and it's his dream to get his hands on one. He actually said that all he wants in life is to sneak up on me some time when I'm really concentrating on something and horn me. It makes me reconsider the whole marriage thing. Air horning your wife is like as bad as smashing cake in her face at the wedding. It's like pantsing her in public. It's like the worst thing you can possibly do I think. So Pants this is official warning. I will pre-vorce you so fast you won't know what's coming. And if somehow you do get your hands on a horn and you do get me, I will not only leave you, I will get revenge first. I have your logins buddy. Your facebook picture will be that time you ... I'm so serious. Don't do it.

Audio books

2009-08-27T22:16:00.004-04:00

I'm a self-professed suburban geek these days, so I might as well publicly humiliate myself some more. I am experiencing my very first audio book -- which I borrowed from my town library. Yeah, that's right. I said library and audio book in the same sentence.

I drive to work, so that gives me a 1/2 hour commute, 2 times a day, in a car with a CD player. What's a girl to do? I can only listen to trashy morning radio for so long before I feel like between my radio show habits, my reality TV habits, and my obsession with teenage vampire books, I'm sort of like the human equivalent of red jello.

So here I am, into my first week of a riveting Nicholas Sparks audio book, and I got a gripe. While I'm really enjoying the new found time management skills I've developed, I've got a bone to pick with 'management' -- Where do you find these narrators? The dude narrating my story is like a high school drama teacher after a scotch and a night of karaoke. It's really distracting and yet I can't turn away. His depiction of what these characters should sound like is bananas. Which got me thinking, how much does this guy get paid to sit in a sound room and read a book out loud into a microphone? And if he can do it, why can't I? Think of all the books that could benefit from my voice, and me from their big, deep pockets. So here's what I'm pitching myself to read for:

He's Just Not That Into You...because I would totally insert my own side commentary -- I mean, I'm not naming names, but I've wanted to read this book to many a friend, and here's my chance.
Pride & Prejudice...because I've never read it and I know I should, and it's super long which means I'd probably get paid a lot. Sweet.

Darn that Miley Cyrus

2009-08-25T11:29:00.003-04:00

She got me loving this song. I normally can't stand the sight (or sound) of her. But when you have cute gay guys dance in unison to a super catchy summer song, well it's irresistible.

Everyone wonders what Victoria's Secret is...

2009-08-21T17:10:00.003-04:00

I've figured it out -- with the help of my friend Kim-ette (thanks, girl). Her damn secret is that she makes bras that don't last, so you buy more. Girls with bubbies, we need to unite. This bra strap situ needs to be addressed. When I buy a 34D bra from you, Vikki (ahem, yes, I have no shame sharing my size, it is what it is), I deserve straps that accommodate that. I need enough adjustable room to account for gravity's work over time...not a 1" of wiggle room to tighten and lift. My bubbies have weight to them -- I like to say they are my heaviest asset (and I always account for such when weighing myself...those extra 15 lbs are just my bubbies...I'm really not fat). Thus I need and deserve some extra strappage to tighten my girls in and bring 'em up to where they belong.

So Victoria, now that your secrets been leaked, can you please give a girl some wiggle room with the damn straps? Or else I'm going to have to start attaching my bra straps to my earrings to keep the girls in place, and that's just not a good idea.

Random Thoughts

2009-08-20T14:12:00.002-04:00

I just got forwarded one of those stupid random thoughts emails, but this one had some gems, so thought I'd share... I bolded the ones I especially agree with for your viewing pleasure.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.
Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger
Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.
There is a great need for sarcasm font.
I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.
Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".
I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".
How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!
Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

I see your pee

2009-08-20T10:05:00.004-04:00

I was walking to pick up lunch yesterday and I passed a tall, handsome, very well dressed guy who had a for real pee pee stain on the front of his pants. He wasn't carrying a cold beverage, it wasn't raining, it was an honest to goodness pee pee stain (which probably means he was going commando, but that's not the point) WTF guys?! I essentially wrap three rolls of triple-ply toilet paper around my hand to ensure I get every little drop of pee, and at the most guys give a little shake. Well guess what, that doesn't cut it. For one, my toilet seat is covered in little droplets of your urine, which get old and yellow and sticky, and two its all on your clothes - how freaking gross. If I have boys, I'm going to make them wipe it. Who is teaching these guys it's ok to piss and run. You need to stay in that bathroom and make sure all offending substances are properly stowed away, and not in your pants.

Sweet dreams might be made of the this

2009-08-18T17:51:00.003-04:00

This sweet nectar is supposed to give you the same euphoria as the fuzzy, green, stinky, smoky stuff. And it's legal.

Who wants to chip in on a case with a sista?

Mary Jane's Relaxing Soda

Sweet dreams are (not) made of this

2009-08-17T21:53:00.003-04:00

Dreams are ridiculous. How do they happen? Where do the ideas and scenarios and occurrences come from? I don't understand! Why do we have dreams about flying, and floating, and dreams that involve people we know in scenarios we would never find ourselves in with those people? I've been having ridiculously awkward dreams lately. One involved my teeth, which were each being held together by little wire twist ties. And most recently, hubby was missing his eyes (literally, empty sockets) and was chasing me around trying to gouge mine out with an ice pick. Wtf?

Why can't dreams be pretty and fun and clever? Like Alice in Wonderland journeys, or winning the lotto? Why do people use the phrase "In your dreams" as if they were full of sex and fancy stuff and rainbows? And who the hell decides what dreams "mean?" How does anyone know what it means when I dream about falling into a refrigerator and the door shutting and locking me in?

Counting calories

2009-08-17T14:08:00.003-04:00

Most women I know make their food choices these days based on calories. Do I eat this delicious hoagie for lunch, or a grilled tofu salad hold the dressing. Brides who think their arms looked kinda tubby at their dress fitting the other day make the obvious, no taste salad choice. But they are cranky about it, let me tell you.

A totally regular, non dieting woman’s diet would normally consist of 2,000 calories a day. But to shed pounds you want to be closer to about 1,200 a day. Do you know what you have to eat – or not eat – to stay under 1,200 cals a day? Well it’s a not a lot. I fell off the wagon this weekend and think that the only way to really learn my lesson is to publicly humiliate myself. Here’s where I went wrong.

Saturday:

A.M.

I’ll be good, I’ll just go to Dunkin Donuts and get one of those egg white flatbread things (+290 calories). I rip off the top slice and feed it to my dog (-40 calories), except for that one piece that had some melted cheese on it that I took a bite of (+12 calories). To wash it down, I’ll have a medium iced decaf coffee with Skim Milk thank you very much (+35 calories) and a sweet and low (+4 calories) – no sugar since I’m dieting.

While I’m at DD, I’ll pick up a box of munchkins for Pant’s pool party – 50 please. I’ll just have two of these and then close the box up, no one will notice that there are 48-47 munchkins instead of the full 50 (+120 calories).

Noonish

Go shopping with Bro, expertly avoid mall food court. I should take off a few cals for the walks around the mall, but won’t because I avoided the gym all weekend and that sounds like cheating.

2 ish

Decide I’m starving, go to Wendy’s – favorite philly fast food. Get a single (+420 calories) scrape off some of the mayo and pickles (-15 calories). Small fries (+330 calories), but give 1/3 to dog and brother (-75 calories). Diet coke – cause I’m dieting.

Pool Party

Hard to tell, took a bite of Pants’ burger (let’s say +30 calories), ate some chips – full fat kind (+120 calories), had some spinach square thing – tasted good, so probably high-cal (+130 calories) about 4 more munchkins (+240 calories) couple diet cokes – cause I’m dieting.

P.M.

Didn’t eat anything at pool party basically, so starving by 8. Get a turkey hoagie (+800 calories) but only eat half (-400 calories) and one bite of my dad’s steak sandwich (+50 calories) and some chips (+70 calories). Diet coke, obvi.

So I’m about 900-1100 calories over my goal for the day – and this doesn’t even include the foods I forgot about. What that means is flabby arms are here to stay. Oy, today I'm eating only hard boiled eggs, cucumbers and weight watchers string cheese.

Gift ideas anyone?

2009-08-04T12:47:00.004-04:00

You know what really grinds my gears? People who expect you to guess the perfect gift for them for their birthday. The nice thing about girls is that they make it extremely easy to get them the perfect present. We leave dog-eared magazines all over the house, we muse loudly about that great purple bag their friend had the other day, remember, the one we pointed out to you, remember?!, we linger in front of store shops, looking at a specific display as we walk by, we even freaking send you links of the earrings we want and when they are going on sale at shopbop. When all else fails we make sure our sister knows exactly what we want, so when you give her a buzz for advice, everyone is prepared. But noooo, Pants doesn't drop any hints, because he wants to be surprised.

How much freaking pressure do you think that puts on me?! Well it's a lot. Here were some of my ideas and why I ruled them out:

Watch: Gave him one from the office last year that he never wears
Engraved wallet clip: He likes separate compartments in his wallet probably to hide cards of women he meets
PS3/xbox/Wii: Too stupid
Weekend Trip: Saving for PR/wedding
Camera: Got him fancy one last year that he never uses
Clothes/shoes: He'll be pissed, he considers those necessities, not gifts
Kindle: Makes him mad, he likes pages
Puppy: We barely like the dog we currently have
New Mac: Get real, I'm broke

So I'm fresh out of ideas. Pants if you annonymously comment on this post with a gift suggestion, then you can have what you want, and it will be like you're suprised because I won't know who suggested it. Smart right. Send in your ideas. Oh and happy birthday Pants!!!!

Thanks, Garrett

2009-08-03T10:07:00.006-04:00

Cuz sometimes, come Monday morning, I got nothin', so I borrow from your creative stash.

Yes, they are serious

2009-07-28T20:48:00.003-04:00

This company is really on to something. Urns in the style of the dearly departed -- literally. For $2600 -- a pittance, really -- they'll jack you up into some super-plastic rendering with the top of your skull as a pop off lid.

H-ette, when I die, I want my big blue peepers staring you down from the mantle, for the rest of your life. Set me right on top of the PS3, so every time you go to turn that sucker on, you'll be reminded of my disdain for the machine. Or, put me in the refridge for a fun "scare" late night when you go get some wettums.

Is this the new uniform for the US swim team?

2009-07-27T17:09:00.001-04:00

Cause I kinda like it.

Another office gripe

2009-07-23T19:35:00.003-04:00

I got a lot of 'em. And I'm not particularly picky, either. But something that really gets me is the Computer Speaker Abuser. This person does not understand volume control, nor do they own a pair of headphones, but what they DO have is a terrible taste in music, and you're going to hear about it, from one cat-screeching song to the next. I work with one said offender. As a writer, I value my peace and quiet, while I'm minding my P's and Q's and crossing my T's and dotting my I's. And every day, I have to suffer at the hand of the sado-masochistic music man. I'm all for melody, and soft, unoffensive music coming from somewhere you can't quite place -- if executed properly it can be nostalgic and sweet. But when you are forced to listen to something you a) wouldn't listen to in a million years, and b) would rather be chopped up and served to vamps while lucid than listen to...well then, my friends, your work will suffer.

Today mine did as I had to suffer through melodramatic alt-rock end-of-the-world emo drones mixed with heavy metal screaming, an awful musician's interview akin to a bad, slow episode of Inside the Actor's Studio, and then thrown in for good measure (I kid not), Funky Cold Medina, which he sang along to. Outloud.

Yes, I've got headphones, which I am FORCED to use all day long (and I have sensitive ear canals, those damn things hurt and I end up going home with crampy ears - not fun). But that's not the point. Where do we draw the line and say enough is enough? Where are the rules? Where's the corporate overlord to slap him with a fine and send his ass to HR?

Tomorrow, if I even hear a peep of Def Leopard-ness, his ass is going down. It's Friday, after all, and so help me if he gets some crappy song stuck in my head all weekend.

Sorry, 1

2009-07-22T13:27:00.003-04:00

But the familiarity is a little creepy. You basically have the hots for Haley Joe Comet.

seriously?

2009-07-22T11:54:00.003-04:00

Do I have to respond to this person on Facebook?

From random jew name: "are you the same Ette1 I went to Hebrew School with?"

What if I am? So what? Are we going to meet to reminisce about learning to write the aleph bet now that we've reconnected? What do you want to talk about exactly?
I was probably 10-years-old in Hebrew school. The only thing I remember was that one guy was kind of cute. So that's essentially how I spent my time, thinking about cute young jew boys, not learning Hebrew, and clearly not forming a lasting relationship with this girl who may or may not have been sitting in the same room with me once a week for a few months.
Do I have to "friend" every freaking acquaintance I've ever had in my life? I spoke to the taxi driver last night, he asked about my day and where I was going to, is he my FB friend? I've spent more time with him recently than this girl, that has to count for something.
What in the world made her think of me? There's no way I was suggested to her, we don't have any friends in common and I certainly didn't list my Hebrew school in my profile. Why after 20 years, would she remember my full name and have any inclination to contact me now. Was I really mean to her back then - like a bully that she now wants to connect with so I know how she felt back then. Entirely possible. I was way bitchy, I probably have enemies. But I feel like I pretty much kept to myself back then, it was before blogs. Maybe she always thought I was cool and pretty and wanted to be my friend, but then lost touch with me until facebook put everyone out on front street. Also entirely possible, I was a hot pre-teen, I was one of the first to get boobies and that counts for a lot in junior high - just ask Pants, they brought him around looking for me 15 years later too.
Anyway, it's weird. And I'm not friending her. I don't need her daily updates about how glad she is it's almost Friday, or how much she loves her husband or how the rain totally sucks.

It was like Michael Vick up in here

2009-07-21T22:13:00.003-04:00

Leia the Wunderdog has been sharing her lair for the last six months with none other than Bro-ette's buddy "Stewpert the coosh-tard." Well, while Stewpert the coosh-tard is a loving, sweet animal, he's still sort of puppy-like, and well, to be quite honest, bro-ette never really trained him, and he's got some social issues. He doesn't quite get the 'no jumping on people 'rule. He is stubborn as a mule and will not come on command. And he's mad territorial about his food.

Enter Leia the Wunderdog. She was basically Angel Food Dog before Stewpert came. She was well behaved, greeted guests with a handshake and poured them a martini (shaken, not stirred). But ever since Stewpert's arrival, she's been working hard to keep up with the coosh-tards, and well, it's been affecting her temperament.

See, Stewpert gets fed twice a day. Leia the Wunderdog? Just once. She, like most women, suffers from the extra few lbs she can't quite seem to shed, no matter how many Frisbees she catches or laps she does around the yard. Stewpert on the other hand looks like an Ethiopian, his ribs and spine stuck out like an abused, neglected child's. So tonight, I fed Stewpert his evening kibble, like the king he is. He quickly ate 3/4's of the bowl and then sauntered off to find out what was going on in the kitchen. Well, Leia took that opportunity to go check out what was being served at table 3. When Stewpert returned, he saw Leia eating a bite of his watercress salad and like any man, he attacked her fat ass.

What ensued was X-rated stuff Peta would cover their eyes over. The dogs, entangled and snarled, went at each others faces until I could muster the balls to stick my bare hands in there and try to pull them off one another -- to no avail. H-ette flew in like a seagull and swiped Stewpert up, separating the abusive couple.

After an hour of time out for both of them, Stewpert has emerged as the clear loser of this battle. As his face gashes clearly show, Leia takes shit from no man -- and she does not think she's fat. Let's hope Stewpert learned a valuable lesson about sharing and relationships tonight...

Those straps sure are working hard

2009-07-20T15:06:00.002-04:00

I know she's the queen and all (don't tell latifa), but someone needs to have a serious sit down conversation with this woman. First of all those straps look like they are going to rip right through her shoulders. That cannot be comfortable. Unless they are made of iron, there's no way they are up to task of holding up those jugs. Which makes me wonder, maybe all those studs on the front of the dress are an elaborate pulley system that keeps everything in place and covered up. The mic is also strategically placed to obscure the massive cleavage line. Also, that gauzey see-through wrap aint providing the type of coverage she needs. At this age, let alone weight class, she need to really start thinking long and hard about some sleeves. And what's the lameo wrist watch. Can't an assistant or event organizer update her on the time? It's like wearing your watch with your wedding dress. Hello that's what a MOH is for.

Pet Peeve #479

2009-07-16T09:43:00.002-04:00

The Redundancy Communicator.

This is the person who sends an email to you with explicit requests/information/bullet points/theses, and then shows up at your desk the minute the email has hit your inbox, saying “I just sent you an email with blah blah blah” and proceeds to verbally address all issues in said email. Why bother sending an email at all? You’re now here, invading my personal space, you could have saved the valuable Interwebs space for something else, like forwarding on one of your stupid “God Works in Mysterious Ways” emails.

This behavior is not limited to email. It carries over to instant messaging. As in, you ask someone a question on IM and next thing you know they are behind you, peering onto your computer screen, going, “oh, I thought I would just come over and explain.” Well if I just wanted you to explain in person, my lazy ass would have gotten up and invaded YOUR desk from the beginning! I want a simple answer, IM style. I don’t want to be bothered, I don’t want you seeing that I’m working on my blog or have some online shopping windows open on my computer — stay away. Just respond the way the good Skype intended and we’ll all be better off.

This is why we're fat

2009-07-14T21:16:00.004-04:00

I have figured out why Americans are fat. It's easier to throw something in the micro and call it a day, or mix some ingredients out of a box (hello, mac and cheese, I love you) then to actually cook a meal from scratch. I know, major aha moment. Whatever.

I work a full time job. Tonight after work I went to the eye doctor to get my peepers checked out, then I went to the grocery store to do some shopping for the week. I decided I wanted to make enchiladas. Seems easy enough, right? I found a trusted Martha recipe and got all my ingredients...except that I didn't really READ the recipe in terms of steps, process, etc. How f-ing hard can it be to wrap some stuff in a tortilla, put it in a casserole dish and bake it?

This recipe had me making my own tomatillo sauce. From scratch. That means chopping the veggies, sauteing them, and then pureeing them in the food processor. And as any cook knows, the experience starts to get stressful when more than 2 pots/pans/appliances get dirty.

I had to hand shred a rotisserie chicken. I had to pre-cook all the corn tortillas, individually on the stove top. Of course I had to make my famous guac, because what good is an enchilada without some guac. Before you know it, I'm an hour and a half into this and the friggin casserole hasn't hit the oven yet. I mean, seriously.

There are only so many hours in the day. I still haven't figured out how to fit the whole gym thing into my day -- lord only knows how that will get accomplished, I'll have to go when I'm sleeping. It's too much work. It's much easier to just open a box of Kraft and be done with it. Which means fatso. Which is why we are fat. And why kids don't know what gardens look like but they can tell you the contents of every meal on the McDonald's drive thru menu.

It's all just so stressful. Thank god for margarita mix...

How could you?

2009-07-13T15:22:00.002-04:00

How can you do this to me, Kate, Cara, Madelyn, Alexis, Aaden, Hannah, Collin, Joel and little Leah? You've broken our hearts. You make us hate men. Your girlfriend is a skank, we hope she falls down a well. And we hope you lose all the rest of your hair, so you just have a sad little line of plugs left.

Team Kate

Enough already

2009-07-13T09:53:00.002-04:00

I'm a little obsessed with Twilight as you know, but that doesn't mean I'll neglect the other vampires in my life, so of course I was glad to see True Blood return last night.

But this nutty plot line with this mystery woman is making me crazy already. What the hell is she, the devil - some Eros god of love-type?! They are dragging this shit out and its enough already.

I'll welcome any theories on who/what she is and where this whole thing is going.

Palin Pays Up

2009-07-10T13:04:00.003-04:00

I thought this pic was really awesome. Even though Kvetchette doesn't condone self-inflicted blows to the dome...we do condone assholes who publicly enrage us and then allow us to bear witness to their own crumbling demise.

Rebuttal

2009-07-08T11:00:00.002-04:00

Mostly because I want to post more pics of this guy.

Who says a jew can't be a vampire? No one said they are all sucking on pig, the jewpires eat only rabbi approved cows.
Not aging, hello that's awesome. What do I care what I look like if I get to stare at some hot bodied, forever 21 year old dude. It's like being hugh hefner - awesome.
Edwards hair is perfection. I'd take it off and put it on my own head if I could.
Cold is good. I hate waking up all sweaty and bothered because I'm trapped under the covers with another giant sweaty human being. How nice it would be to have a personal cooling system in bed with me. It's like an air conditioner without the expensive electric bill.
Warped speeds, what is 2 talking about - what would be more awesome than finishing a marathon in 20 minutes?! I'd have a zillion gold medals. Traffic - what traffic - I'll just run there.
Seriously 2 is worrying about fixing cars? Vampires are freaking rich. Car breaks down, he'll buy you a new one.
Ok I will give her this one. I would miss eating delicious foods, but I would be soooo skinny, so that's the pay off. I'll drink only bloody marys to be a size 2.
Women pay thousands of dollars to get their skin to sparkle. People even implant diamons in their fingers. This is awesome.

So I'm sorry to say 2, you have not convinced me.

Bite her already

2009-07-07T21:35:00.003-04:00

Our very own Ette1 has an unhealthy obsession with Edward Cullen, aka Twilight vamp, and I'm here to help her through it. She is comparing everyone and every convo she has to vampy teen heartthrob Robert Pattinson. She's hoping Pants will turn into a cold-hearted vampire and get all mysterious, with big coifed hair and weird eyes and way too defined cheekbones (what's he housing in there anyway, a boomerang??). Here are my issues with this:

Vamps aren't Jewish. No way Jews are sucking blood from any neck. The only thing Jews suck on is a chicken bone from the matzah ball pot, and that's only if they're real Jewy. Although some of us do eat tongue, which is questionable, but that's a post for another time...
Vamps don't age, which means Pants would get to stay all young and glorious and then what if he doesn't vamp-convert you, and you get old while he stays young? That's too risky.
Edward's hair is ridiculous. It's sort of like a bullet-proof cone of cotton candy, and it makes me nervous. No man should have a wall like that above his forehead.
He's so pale, in a kind of jaundice yellow meets Icelandic Bjork kind of way, and his skin is super cold. What about this says "I want to get close to you?" I like a good snuggle, and nothing about cold, wan, paleness says "get close to me." It says bundle my frail ass up in a blanket. Or maybe a slanket.
The whole breezing through the woods and up trees at warped speeds thing? That's sooo Matrix. There's something to the whole "fashionably late" thing, and getting there like 5 hours before everyone else just makes you a dork.
I don't want my man hunting down bears and deer and ripping their limbs off with his bare hands. I want my man to fix a flat tire for me with his bare hands. I want my man to fix broken things for me with his bare hands. Bears and deer need not apply.
I pass out at the sight of blood, and honestly, I'm pretty sure One is as big of a puss as I am, so I'm not sure who she's kidding with the old blood diet thing. Not happening.
Sparkling skin in the daytime makes shopping on Saturday's not so easy.

So there you have it. One, stick to what you know and keep Pants human. You guys get married in a few months and you can spend all of earth-eternity loving each other limb by limb. And if you must? Prick his finger with a needle and suck.

2009-07-07T16:42:00.000-04:00

Here are the things I'm thinking about today:

2009-07-06T15:48:00.003-04:00

Our blog really helps people. A certain someone saw the praise we heaped on a certain ex-smoker and became jealous of the attention. The next day he tosses his pack of Parliments and has since been smoke-free. Went cold turkey. No idea where that term comes from, but still. We are proud, and we take credit.
I seriously don't care about MJ. I know I'm awful, whatever. Come on guys, were you expecting Thriller 2? His best days were far far behind him - he was a good dancer yes, but a completely screwed up person. Let's just let it be done with please.
Palin: Don't you love this. What a freaking whackado she is. I am so waiting for the "part 2" of that announcment, like Todd has a love child with someone, or she's taken a job as a Fox news correspondent - sorry Pants, but there has to be more to this story. I knid of wish she would go the way of MJ and just be out of our lives, but maybe without the death part.
Coney Island is a giant dumpster. I will never go there again. When someone actually overlapps their blanket on your towel - that's it. Respect my sapce people! Never again.
I am OBSESSED with Twilight. That Edward Cullen gets me all hot and bothered, I was comparing Pants to him all weekend. I love Pants, but he's so unvampirey, which is a shame. I'm totally a 13-year-old girl in a 30 year-old's body.
Picnics in the park are the single best thing about NYC in the summer.
Fireworks. Why do people insist on videotaping them? They never look as good on camera and when you are watching through that little screen you are missing the whole point of actually experiencing the fireworks. Ooh but did you see that new one where there's a big burst and the little lights make that awesome round shape and then just before they die out, they all make little sqwiggly movements. I know, it's hard to describe fireworks, but they were cool.

Why so close?

2009-07-05T21:40:00.003-04:00

I have an inquiry -- a gripe if you will, to address with a certain driving set. I'm talkin' bout the ladies who drive too close to the steering wheel.

Yes, you know who you are. You are the women who get in the car and adjust the seat back and tray tables into their full upright and locked position, so close to the windshield you are close enough to fog it up with your coffee breath. What is up with this?

I am assuming you drive like this because it makes you feel more in control. You can practically wrap your entire arms around the steering wheel. You are so close you can use your steering wheel to wipe sweat from your pits. You can take a nap on it without having to move your head at all. But has it not occurred to you, windshield driver, that while you think you are acting in your safety's best interest by frenching glass while you drive, you are really putting yourself in extreme danger!

Because should you actually get in an accident, your airbag has nowhere to expand except by breaking into your face at warped speeds. If you were to get in an accident, it would probably be the airbag that would kill you. This kills me. The irony. You are an Alannis Morissette lyric waiting to be sung.

Kicking butts!

2009-07-02T09:21:00.003-04:00

One of our darling readers informed us that as of yesterday he's celebrating 1 year of being completely smoke-free. Three hundred sixty five long days of fresh breath, whiter teeth and healthy lungs. And we think that's a big deal.

We hope the other people in our lives will gain inspiration from this success story and stop freaking smoking already. You know who you are.

Happy holiday weekend.

Finish your thought!!

2009-07-01T21:11:00.005-04:00

What's up with people who seem to speak in the language known as Ellipsis? As in, they start a sentence but don't finish it.

For example...you're on the train and someone says "Would you mind if I..." and then they just make a motion with their hand to indicate that they would like to sit in the seat next to you.

Or, you're in a restaurant and someone asks about the specials..."What's the fish like -- is it..." as if the waiter is supposed to know where you are going with that thought.

Or how about this one. Someone asks you for the time by saying "Excuse me, do you know..." and then they just point to their wrist, where, surprise, there is no watch or they wouldn't have to ask you. What's up with that?

If you start a sentence why can't you finish it? Why just let your voice trail off as if your mind suddenly went dark mid-thought?

I'm going to start finishing people's thoughts when they do this to me..just go ahead and assume what they want to say. I suggest you do the same.

For example, when on the train and someone says "Would you mind if I..." just go ahead and say "give me a back massage? Great!! I'd love one, thanks!" and just turn around to present them with your neck.

It'll be fun. You'll see.

From now on I'm weighing myself first thing in the am

2009-06-29T11:31:00.002-04:00

Those close to me know I've been hitting the gym pretty regularly lately. And by "hitting" I mean, going and doing 30 minutes of pretty easy, non-sweaty cardio on the elliptical while watching an old episode of some stupid VH1 charm school/dating show, and then promptly packing up and going home for a big meal on the couch while I watch an episode of some MTV real world / challenge type show. Those who know me understand that that's quite a stretch from my normal routine of "hitting" the grocery store and then heading home for the couch / meal / TV combo. The sad part is despite my energetic efforts, I've yet to see a change in the scale. Of course I weigh myself everyday after my evening workout, becasue the only point to workout really is too see the pounds fall away, but that stupid scale doesn't budge. It's firmly at a number I do not wish to share with you. Annoying right. Well this weekend I worked out in the am and guess what, two pounds down. What does that mean? I will only weigh myself in the morning from now on. My official weight will be my 9 am weight, before I eat anything, before my body has a chance to bloat, etc. No more of this 7 pm heaftyess for me. Additionally, I've decided my workout clothes weigh five pounds. They must right? All that heavy cotton! That sports bra has to have a ton of big strong elastic to keep my girls from knocking me in the eye when I run, that's probably two pounds right there. Also, you can't really count my hair can you - all big and curly and long, that's got to have some girth that's adding to the overall. I'm not going to count it, down another pound. So in all, not so bad huh, what's that eight pounds down?! Seems my workouts have paid off, I'm actually much thinner than I appear.

It's hard work to look good.

2009-06-28T18:19:00.004-04:00

And not just the bod...I'm talkin the landscaping, people. Workin' the fields is a full-time job. And some people are just cut out for it. This girl was not built for manual labor I can tell you that right now. I tried telling H-ette that before he went and bought us a small town, i.e. 1.5 acres to manage. That's like an entire city block, for you NY folk. Seriously. And it's almost all grass, and H-ette and I do all the work. He puts the overalls on and rides the mower around, cutting the grass. I put my big straw hat on and knee pads and weed, weed, weed. I stake the flowers, I cut the flowers, I watch the flowers die, I unstake them. It's like a perilous fight, and I'm on the losing end. Our ground is so friggin fertile, as soon as I pick a weed, there's a new one, with a face on it and all, that pops up from the soil and looks me square in the face, like, "what...what are you gonna do about it?" Swear. I guess there is a moral to the story here. Well, maybe there are a few.

When buying a house, make sure you get in writing that there shall be a gardener and a maid that come with the deal.
When buying a house, stick to enough land that you can see with your naked eye. Like, the kind of yard you'd be able to run around once and not be completely winded.
When planting a garden, be advised that once things start to grow, they G R O W. And thus, planting 12 varieties of tomatoes might sound like a hedonistic suburban pleasure, but when those suckers start to grow, you will have hundreds of tomatoes. What you do with these tomatoes is up to you. It won't be pretty.
When moving to the suburbs, just get over yourself and get rid of all your cute, designer clothes. Those days are over. Your ass will be shopping for fashion at Target for the next 20 years. You'll need outfits that can take you from work, to the grocery store, to run errands, to pulling stupid weeds in the garden, to cleaning the godforsaken house that is swimming with dust (see previous post on dust). Your Theory, Tracey Reese, Marc Jacobs, Nanette Lepore days are gone. The quicker you admit this and move on the easier the break up will be.

On the plus side? I'm sitting outdoors on my patio, barefoot, as I type this, staring into my lush, fertile veggie garden, drinking a margarita on the rocks, in perfect 72 degree weather. Where are you?

Compromises are the key to life.

2009-06-25T18:08:00.001-04:00

Poor Lucky

2009-06-24T17:40:00.003-04:00

This video is awesome. This girl Mya is awesome. Her poor fish Lucky, is not so lucky. Watch it. Laugh. And if you're like me, be reminded that kids can be really cute. Sometimes.

See more funny videos and Funny Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Oh yeah you were hiking

2009-06-24T17:00:00.004-04:00

What is wrong with freaking men. A Governor goes missing - to shack up with some south of the border ho? It's crazy. It's one thing for Jon to want some space from his thousand kids and cranky wife, but a freaking Governor steps out on the whole state?! What did this woman have in her pants that was worth all of this.

The moral of this story is:
a. don't go hiking
b. don't marry anyone who is even remotely interested in politics
c. basically don't marry a man - they are all big cheaters (except for pants if he knows what's good for him)
d. never trust an argentinian
e. never trust a republican

Perez Hilton totally jumped the shark

2009-06-23T10:50:00.003-04:00

Don't you think? It's fun to go to his site and make fun of celebs and all, but who the hell cares about him as a person and his fight with some roadie. I'm frankly shocked that this was the first time someone decked him. I bet there are like at least 49,000 people in Hollywood who want to see him get hurt pretty bad. And he's twittering to tell people to call the police? Seriously? Just call the freaking police dude. So I'm pretty much over him now. I've moved on to Dlisted. Number one they are way funnier and meaner, which I like of course. And there's lots of good content for me to steal for our site. (Don't mention that to them please.) And they don't make themselves the story of the day, which I appreciate (although of course I don't follow that rule, everything I write is about me.)

In sad relationship news...

2009-06-23T10:40:00.003-04:00

It happened, Jon & Kate are divorcing. I'm totally devastated. Obviously it's completely Jon's fault. He's young and wants to party instead of working things out like a man is supposed to do.
I hope Kate meets some big, rich, hot guy who appreciates a strong woman and she marries him and they live happily with all their million kids, and Jon just continues to go bald all over his head except the hairline on his forehead since those are plugs with those freaking ridiculous diamond earrings in both ears, looking like a total loser. Oh and I hope that stupid teacher bitch he is cheating with falls down a well or something.

Who will be my role model couple now? Tori and Dean? Oy

Oh well, fly with angels.

Still Swiney

2009-06-18T14:33:00.004-04:00

A girl in my office just found out her brother has the Swine. Crazy right?! I thought we were done with that, but now it's entered my environment. I obviously cordoned off her area, so that her germs stay safely on her desk and not in my totally anti-bac-ed space, but still. I'm already feeling a little ill. Major headache, itchy eyes. Allergies you say? Doubtful. I think I'm coming down with the pig too - which is seriously unfair because I only tried bacon once and didn't even like it that much. That said, I bet having the flu makes you totally lose weight. I've been schlepping my big butt to the gym everyday trying to get in wedding shape - and obviously I freaking hate it. Maybe what I need to do is get the freaking swine and then I can sit back and relax in my hospital room, while the only thing I consume is intravenous fluids - which are seriously low in calories. Ok, it's decided, I'm going to go lick her or something to get the pig on me.

P.S. yes Brette - it is your future wife in that pic!
P.P.S. can you believe I spelled intravenous right?!

Facebook don'ts

2009-06-16T12:13:00.002-04:00

I'm sure we've covered this in previous posts. But here are some big Facebook dont's.

Do Not:

Post your feelings about the weather. Rain blows, we get it.
Tell us how happy you are about today for whatever reason. If you are happy good for you, but I'm not happy and it does not make me happy to see that you are, it basically makes me wish that you become unhappy.
Post about what you are doing on your vacation. I don't want to hear that you are at the spa, or are drinking mojitos, or are enjoying lunch on the beach. F you. I'm at work.
Tell me what TV or Movie character you are most like. I think you are most like a loser.
Tag me in pictures where I look fat and ugly. I need pre-approval on that shit.

What's up with dust?

2009-06-15T12:52:00.003-04:00

I don't really understand...I clean CONSTANTLY. I am forever wiping surfaces down and yet dust seems to take over, every little crevice, every surface it can latch it's fuzzy little self to. I know it's kind of gross, but most of dust is dead skin and pet dander. So I guess a better question is, do H-ette and I shed more skin than normal people? Why is it that most houses I walk into are completely dust-less, their surfaces gleaming and glossy as if nary a dust particle has ever settled onto the furnishings? Yet, as I am wiping down my dresser with Pledge and a special rag I paid $9.95 for because it swears it eliminates dust -- just as soon as I've wiped the dang surface -- I can watch the f-ing dust settling back down onto it. If my dust could talk it would probably tell me to exfoliate more. So instead, dust puts me in a bad mood, b/c I really hate seeing my own skin settled on my jewelry box - there's something so...just not right about that. And then my bad mood puts H-ette in a bad mood b/c I can't possibly tell him I'm in a bad mood over dust, because I would surely look completely insane for letting an inanimate nuisance like dead skin ruin my mood...so I just get bitchy. And then he gets moody, b/c he doesn't know what's wrong, and then next thing you know, we're arguing with each other and it all started over my dead skin.

Another Great Website

2009-06-12T13:41:00.004-04:00

called, Happiest People Ever. And boy, does it show....

ew

2009-06-11T16:20:00.004-04:00

I don't know where I saw this, but there was some article talking about Megan Fox having big toes for thumbs. In fact she might have even said it about herself. She's one of those totally annoying pretty girls that are always acting so insecure, like she doesn't understand why guys think she's hot when she's posing in a bikini for Maxim. Stupid. Anyway now there are close ups of her thumbs and they kinda are toe-like. Gross. She beats Teresa and her no forehead for weirdest body thing of the week.

Ain't It Purdy?

2009-06-10T15:14:00.002-04:00

an artsy fartsy cloudtag of all the important words we provide you here on kvetchette.

Don't you kinda hate Ryan Seacrest

2009-06-09T15:19:00.001-04:00

This made me feel a little better about him being all famous and rich now. At least he paid his dues.

How scary was that thunderstorm last night?

2009-06-09T13:55:00.003-04:00

Man did it rain last night. I woke up at 2:41 am because my 3 pound dog jumped into bed and needed a cuddle - I quickly realized why. It was the scariest freaking thunderstorm ever. Major loud, cracking thunder directly above our heads and serious hot lightening almost reaching in through our window. Of course I woke Pants up to hold my hand, because hand-holding equals protection from thunder obviously. But while I laid awake it got me thinking. I'm sure I learned at some point in my education why thunder happens, but I couldn't for the life of me give you the answer now. I know we're a ways off from kids, but I need to figure out a good answer. I'm sure I'll be asked one day, and "god bowling" isn't gonna cut it.

I'll also need answers to these questions. They are all normal everyday things/concepts that work - but I have no clue how.

Airplanes: Still not quite sure how a giant, zillion pound machine can drive kinda fast and then just take off and fly in the air for extended hours until it's time to slow down and land.
Planets and Galaxies: I sort of understand how a telescope works but I'm not so sure about how we know that are a ton of galaxies with millions of stars in them. Basically if we haven't been there, there's no real proof as far as I'm concerned.
Those pictures where if you stare hard enough, or relax your eyes or some shit you see another picture inside. No freaking clue, I never see the other picture.
Snowflakes all being different: Really? Not so sure
Renee Zellweger: Why is she famous?

What I learned from the movie The Hangover

2009-06-08T20:22:00.004-04:00

In no particular order:

What happens in Vegas is very, very bad and so you should never let anyone you even slightly care about go.
If by chance your husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend goes to Vegas without you, before you let them in your bed again, you should call The Little Vegas Wedding Chapel and make sure they didn't have your husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend's name on Friday night's ceremony list.
Tigers in bathrooms are never a good idea.
Heather Graham is still hot. Where has she been? Has she even done anything since Boogie Nights? Good to see you back, Roller Girl.
Mike Tyson is really really funny. At least when he sings Phil Collins out loud he is. The other 1:35 seconds of his cameo were pretty awful, just like you would expect from the beast.
Roofies are not a good idea. Ever. Never ever.
Little Asian men with really outlandish, exaggerated gay accents are funny -- it doesn't matter what they are saying. It works.
It's really funny to pull up to your friend's house and honk the horn and yell obscenities really loudly until they come outside. Ette1, you're lucky you live on the 17th floor and can't hear me, or that's how I'd be picking your ass up.

Go see it.

I still think it's funny

2009-06-08T20:13:00.002-04:00

Here's an ad from across the pond that tries to show people how stupid they look when they are drunk and do things they wouldn't ordinarily do. Except that I find it funny...especially when he tells the girl she's ugly. What do you think?

what exactly is going on here?

2009-06-05T09:30:00.002-04:00

Was Gwynnie oil wrestling minutes before her appearance on the Tonight Show last night? I think this assistant should be fired...someone let her go on stage looking like a greased up bodybuilder. Note picture on the right, after a commercial break - someone obviously sponged her off...thankfully. Poor goopy Gwynnie...

Work appropriate footwear

2009-06-03T16:33:00.002-04:00

There should be an unwritten office rule about shoe etiquette. But since there’s not, and even if there were, most offenders probably would still offend, so I’m going to go ‘head and call you suckers out:

1) If you work on a floor other than the ground level, and your office is too cool for carpet, there should be a doorman checking heels in the morning. That shit is ridiculously annoying when you are beneath some clod-hoppers shuffling back and forth all day, acting out each step with such vehement aggression. You are not an elephant. You are a woman. Stop walking with all your weight into each and every step. If you can’t figure out a quieter way to carry yourself, invest in some thick-soled slippers for the office.

2) Cut this clickety crap out. If you must wear mules to work, and your mules don’t have silencers on them, grip your toes tighter when you walk, or something. The click, clack of your heel lifting off the back of your shoe at every step is unnerving and it makes me want to trip you.

3) If you wear flip flops to work, and you know who you are…PULEASE pick your damn feet up off the ground. The shuffling you do, with rubber meeting carpet/wood/concrete/tar is like nails on a chalkboard. Twelve year old's do this b/c they think it’s cute, or they’re lazy, or they like the sound because they’re not human. But we adults, we can’t stand it, and while we may not tell you to your face, we secretly wish your flip flop would fly off your foot and lead you into oncoming traffic.

4) Mandals. They are completely inappropriate wherever you work. I don't care if you work in a gay bar, in an ad agency (which is sort of also like a gay bar), at a record label or at the local Banana Republic. It's wrong. I don't want to see your hairy toes and unkempt toenails. Leave the mandals at home for when you BBQ for the fam, or go on a boat. Or on vacay. Not for the conference room for everyone to have to live with for an hour long meeting.

There you have it – I don’t think I’ve left any offenders out.

I’ve learned the secret to making money in NY.

2009-06-01T11:56:00.002-04:00

Let’s break it down:

Who has a lot of money to spend: UES yuppy couples with new kids

What do they want to spend money on: Their kids (and the servants who service their kids – maids, nannies, etc)

What makes them feel good about themselves: Finding activities that makes their kids happy and keeps them occupied

Enter:

The kiddie singer. Here’s how you achieve this:

Put on a floppy hat and feather boa

Add a few sequins for good measure

Come up with 3-4 really dumb, but annoyingly catchy songs

Include references to UES places the parents may already know, they love that
Good signing voice not required
Talent essentially not required

Give yourself a stupid but catchy name, it should end in “ey”, and make it short so the kiddies can remember it
Play at the 92nd street Y, especially on rainy days when the nannies can’t take the kids to the park, and also the local kid-friendly diner where you are bound to run into local kiddies and start a following amongst the nanny crowd

Kids have a knack for remembering catchy songs. Think about it, I bet you can sing every word to Twinkle Twinkle right now – but when’s the last time you sang that song? It’s burned into our brains at 2-year-old and stays with us. This is the same concept. Get the kids early with song and you own them and their parents at least for 5 years, the marketing options are endless. We’ll call this the “Barney Effect.”

So once you have those basics together, here’s how you make the money:

Record a “cd” of your “music” and sell for 20 dollars a pop – parents will buy because their kid is already singing your songs and it puts them in their happy place and that puts the parents in theirs
Offer your services for birthday parties – you’ll charge $500+ per appearance – parents will pay because you are a kiddie star and all the other parents will be jealous
Quit your day job and enjoy watching the cash pile up

There you have it. Recession-proof business opportunities. You’re welcome.

Recession Shmession

2009-05-31T21:40:00.004-04:00

Last night the bling-eratti were out in full force in NYC. Chalk it up to perfect weather, but I say NYC doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about the recession. I saw not one but two pairs of Chanel gun heels. Yes, Chanel made a high heel with the heel shaped like a revolver. And let's just say they will set you back $2,200. No, I did not forget a decimal point in there. That's two thousand two hundred dollars for a pair of high heels.

While out on the town for a bachelorette party, we ended up in the lounge at the new Cooper Square Hotel. It's a beautiful enough space, and certainly fulfills every cliche on it's checklist (model waitresses, the flamboyant gay hotel bar manager with the expensive suit and the kerchief poufed just so out of his lapel, the requisite music industry group who found it necessary to invite their pug out for the evening, etc...) But what really got me was when I exited my toilet stall in the ladies room, I was gently greeted by some poor member of the waitstaff, a pretty enough girl but apparently not tall enough/pretty enough/skinny enough to make it to front-of-house waitstaff status, this minion was dismissed to the loo with a tray of wine glasses, asking every chick who just peed if she'd care for a glass of chardonnay. I kid you not. As if I was potty training and getting a reward for actually "making" in the toilet. "Could I offer you a glass of wine? We're so grateful to have you use our restroom." I wanted to snatch this poor girl up and shuffle her out of the toilet catacombs to above-ground level, rush her out the front door of the place under the comfort of my wing (armpit), and let her breathe the fresh, New York City air, so she could once again feel womanly. And worthy. And not like a urinal waitress. And then I remembered that I was in a luxe hotel on Bowery (it's own wild contradiction) and that the outdoors smelled a little like pee too. And I remembered that we were in a recession and this girl was lucky to have a damn job. So I snapped back out of my Save-a-Toilet-Girl daydream, whisked a glass off her tray and traipsed back upstairs to my friends.

Only in New York, kids. Only in New York.

My parents are totally random

2009-05-27T09:51:00.002-04:00

Is this happening to you guys too? Your parents reach a certain age and then do totally wacky stuff. My dad forwarded me one of these "warning emails" that you are supposed to pass on to everyone you know to potentially save a life. Doesn't seem so un-parent like unless you know my Dad. He cares about serious shit like being Jewish, and Republicans and the Holocaust. This one is about bad pancakes. I don't think we ever even ate pancakes at home, but now this is his big concern.
Once he didn't speak to me for three months - not kidding - three months because he found out I smoked some herbal and was sure it was the gateway drug to a lifelong addiction to meth. Well sorry pop, all that did was make me want to blaze even more and now you just gave me a craving for some IHOP.

Read below if you are concerned about the pancake epidemic.

A student at HBHS (high school) had pancakes this week and it almost
became fatal. His Mom (registered nurse) made him pancakes, dropped him
off at school and headed to play tennis. She never takes her cell phone on the
court but did this time and her son called to say he was having trouble
breathing. She told him to go to the nurse immediately and proceeded to
call school and alert the nurse. The nurse called the paramedics and they were
there in 3 minutes and worked on the boy all the way to the hospital. He
came so close to dying. Evidently this is more common then I ever knew.
Check the expiration dates on packages like pancakes and cake mixes that
have yeast which over time develop spores. Apparently, the mold that forms
in old mixes can be toxic! Throw away ALL OUTDATED pancake mix, brownie
mixes, Bisquick, cake & cookie mixes, etc., you have in your home.

P.S. Tell this to your children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces and
anyone else who keeps these types of mixes in the cupboard.

Weeds

2009-05-25T21:55:00.002-04:00

Today, on the drive home from the Cape, I found myself daydreaming about my garden and what's happening with it. What weeds I can pull when I get home. What my veggies have done over the weekend. What flowers need watering. What I should cut and bring in the house.

The world certainly works in mysterious ways, I'll tell you that much. Never in a million years did I think I had a gardener's mentality. The only thing I knew about weeds were they were good for a smoke. Now I can spot one a mile away, as I race to get my gardener's gloves on.

I guess this is what they mean when they say your 30's are different. Or else, the 'burbs got a hold on me. I've apparently joined the ranks of Westchester women who've traded their heels for hoes and would rather primp their garden than themselves. I don't know whether to be scared or grateful.

Astrology 101

2009-05-24T21:43:00.004-04:00

Uh oh. After a glorious weekend together, Ette 1 and Pants decided to ruin it by hypothesizing about their signs and whether they make a good astrological love match. Here's what we found. As you read, replace the words Leo, Lion or Fire with the name Pants and the words Pisces, Fish or Water with the name Ette 1. It's not a good story.

A vivid imagination and childlike sense of play bring these two together. Pisces will be drawn to the self-assurance of the Lion, perhaps hoping that confidence will rub off on them. Leo knows its found a compassionate heart in Pisces, one that has the capacity to love deeply and be loyal. Pisces can be a wide-eyed admirer of Leo's charisma. The Lion feels lucky to have found such a good listener. Dates can take a spontaneous turn, both able to take off their adult masks, and let go. They're apt to see the humor in life, and try to keep each other entertained.

The trouble with this mix of elements, is that fire can leave water parched and missing emotional nurturance, and water can drown out fire's enthusiasm. Leo's constant need for approval can be draining to Pisces. The sensitive Pisces mirrors and absorbs moods, and they may lose their sense of self around the more demanding Lion. A dreamy, confused Pisces is maddening to the Leo looking for more direct, passionate contact. When Pisces is embedded in a sea of negativity, they're the ultimate wet blanket for the Lion's dreams.

Both pride themselves on being the generous type. Together they can throw fun, magical parties that are way over-the-top. Leo's radiant nature has an impact on those around them, while Pisces' gift is felt on a more subtle level. Leo can use its personal power to nurture the self-hood and expression of Pisces. Through osmosis, Pisces takes Leo further into the mysterious, and that only heightens their creativity. This is a challenging pairing that thrives when both realize they're artists at heart, but working in different mediums.

Well we're no fools, we're not going against the stars on this one. Engagement is off

Elevator Ettequette

2009-05-22T09:24:00.003-04:00

You know what makes me crazy. People who box you in on the elevator. I step in and move to the back like a normal person to make room for others and then some schmuck gets in turns to face the front and then takes a giant step back all up into my personal space. I want to scream, there's three feet between you and the door and a mere two inches between your backside and myself that doesn't want to be molested by your backside. And then if you flick your gross hair, it's all up in my facial. I can't stand it and its an everyday occurrence. Some people just accept it and suffer in silence till they get to their floor, but not me. I'm not mature enough to just say, would you mind giving me a bit more space, but I always shift so my bag hits them in the back or something so they realize that they are impeding on my area and then make a move. We live in NYC kids. Our personal space is extremely important - back the heck off me in the elevator. This is why I close the door when I see you coming.

5head

2009-05-21T16:55:00.005-04:00

Do you have some totally irrational insecurity that bugs the hell out of you but there's nothing you can do about it? Of course you do, we all do. I'm not talking about a fat ass or anything - because basically you can do something about that - get off it for one. But I like my big butt, what I don't like is my big forehead: a la Tyra.

I always kind of felt like my hairline is just a half an inch too far back and that I'd be hot stuff if it were down just a smidgen. But then I saw my favorite new show, NJ Housewives and my favorite new character Teresa who obviously has the opposite problem.

I don't know how that girl feels confident enough to be on national TV with that weave, but I wouldn't be able to do it. But watching her makes me reconsider my own hairline, and I guess it could be worse, so I'll move on to my other insecurities, like how my voicemail voice sounds so high-pitched and wierd and then there's that one eyelash that won't freaking curl. All the others curl up nice and this one rouge bastard insists on sticking straight out. Annoying.

For all my fatties

2009-05-19T20:58:00.003-04:00

If anyone ever needed a visual explanation of why they their body jiggles, let me direct you to the truth, in your face. Because This Is Why You're Fat.

Scary stuff on here. Meat stuffed into meat and then deep fried. Cheese on EVERYTHING. Maybe there is some merit to a kosher diet after all...

Brilliant

2009-05-19T20:56:00.002-04:00

I've shared this with my Facebook community, but would feel wrong not sharing it to my kvetchers. Most impressive mashup of Alice in Wonderland and Three Six Mafia. Not work appropriate audio, however, unless you have headphones.

Don't do this

2009-05-19T17:53:00.003-04:00

If your kid still needs a paci, then he's too young for you to cut a hawk and bleach his hair.

(You can however paint nails - that's totally appropriate sisette - Angle baby was not harmed and looked super cute.)

Somebody's turning 29!

2009-05-15T13:45:00.002-04:00

But it's not Ette 2, that old bag!

Happy Birthday Babe
xoxox