Posts Tagged: ipod


26
Nov 09

gggb gives thanks

hand-turkey

i could blather on about how grateful i am for my delicious children, supportive family, beloved friends, all my abundance, & yada yada which, of course, goes without saying; but here are a few more things a girl like me is thankful for this thanksgiving…

my young well hung boyfriend.

that my young well hung boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about the 5 extra pounds of muffin top that now pours over my jeans since we started dating.

that after losing my father, i still have a wonderful man in my life (see above) that supports me, gets me totally, thinks i am fabulous just the way i am & loves me unconditionally.

smart food white cheddar popcorn & carbohydrates in general.

the wonderland that is sephora.

joss stone, & alana davis.

chelsea handler & all talented, strong, & funny women, famous or not, who aren’t afraid  to speak their minds.

my lawyer.

my lawyer’s staff.

not having to spend anymore time with the in-laws or pretending to like any of them ever again.

flavored vodka.

texting.

pendente lite.

butt wipes.

the freedom from giving a shit about what The Asshat (a.k.a. ex husband to be)  thinks about anything i do. actually, what he thinks about anything at all.

the wonderful sense of humor my father had and how he taught me to see the humor in everything, every day.

not having to sleep next to a Snoring Fat Ape ever again.

never being seen in a yellow car/suv again.

not pretending to care about anything that has to do with the “the market or “work.”

not having to wash stained underwear, rush (a.k.a. The Worst Band Ever) t-shirts, or filthy socks.

not having to care about how foul the bathroom i don’t use anymore now is.

finally feeling completely free to be myself.

having the fortitude to show some people that payback is a bitch & consequences for bad behavior are real.

ebay, facebook, google mail, zappo’s, nordstrom, & online shopping.

talk soup, the dish, family guy, the simpsons, & the like for making me laugh daily.

my DVR.

ipods & limewire.

paige petite jeans.

flat irons.

high heeled clogs & wedges.

my mom’s new kitty, dexter.

the incredible strength my mother possesses & passed on to me .

the bright future that i know lies ahead of me.

my dear friend mary petto who invited my mother and i to join her family dysfunction this year. she ended up putting out her back & spent it flat on her couch while the rest of us ate ourselves into a tryptophan induced coma in her dining room.

having happy memories of my father being with us last year on this very day.

IMG_0209

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29
Sep 09

i heart guinea pigs

more random & fascinating confessions most of which my mom shouldn’t read:

i am a major underachiever & huge procrastinator, but i did pretty well in school anyway. i am more of a street smarts, common sense kind of girl, but i always wonder what amazing things i would have accomplished had i truly applied myself. although, my english scores were very high, i was in basic skills math & retard science. i still struggled in those too. eventually i grew boobs and said fuck it.

i may have once slept with a mafia don. i am not investigating any further.

i stalked a boy in high school. okay, several. on foot. with binoculars.

uncle buck is my all time favorite movie. i named one of my daughters after one of the characters.

it’s not the posting of unearthed sex tapes or naked pictures (both of which i have never wittingly submitted to) on the web that concerns me. it’s if my gut looks fat or if you can see the cottage cheese on my ass that truly worries me.

i  find the smell of beer on a man’s breath to be sexy. that is really warped.

i still have all of my sticker albums. the stickers are in MINT condition. most still in original packaging.

when i get mad i shop. take that visa! i shopped a lot during my crappy marriage. this did not help my crappy marriage at all, but i have a kickin’ wardrobe.

i obsessively use the notes app on my phone to remember song lyrics so i can google them later to get the title & download them for my ipod.

i started a female pant suit revolution at my first job fresh out of college in 1993. i have authority issues. they breathed a sigh of relief when i quit. i am not meant for corporate life.

when i was 21, i came home late from a date & i busted my dad smoking pot. we went into the house & he sat on the bed of my childhood room while i lectured him on the evils of its usage. for an hour.

i worked at the freehold raceway mall before it opened to set up the gap there. when it opened they hired all new people. working at the gap sucks. i still fold my jeans the way i was taught.

as a teenager & into college, i shoplifted from mostly any retail establishment for which i worked. i found it to be quite a thrill. i totally understand winona rider.

when i was a freshman in college, i briefly dated a high school senior. i went to his prom.

sometimes i wonder if the people on billboards look familiar to me because i actually know them or just from driving past them every day.

when i watch really old reruns & there are old people on the show, i say to myself, that person must be dead by now. conversely, i wonder how the child actors turned out.

in college i peed behind a dumpster. several times. i also passed out on the floor of the girl’s bathroom in my freshman dorm after puking my guts out. several times. i drank a lot in college. i was nicknamed “booter.”

i had a major obsession with garfield when i was kid. i drew him constantly, read every book, and set up a residence for him & his girlfriend in my room. i had about 30 or so stuffed garfields & pals. i also slept with one of my stuffed garfields (& a nightlight) until i got married. i still have them all, but i am trying to get rid of the husband.

after college, while looking for a real job, i was a bank teller. since, i suck at math, my till was short often. i got fired. i still make sure all of my money is facing the same way & in order of denomination in my wallet.

i was an ugly duckling: i was born with one eye that crossed in & wore bifocals from 18 mos to 16 yrs.  my feet turned inward and i had to wear shoes on a metal brace until they faced out. i was never allowed to sit “indian style.” when i was 12, i was diagnosed with minor scoliosis. i cleaned up nice though.

i used to get spontaneous bloody noses from allergies as a kid without warning. this was a fun party trick and most endearing to the hostesses.

at the end of my senior year of high school, a bunch of my friends & i stole a street sign with my name on it by knocking it down with a baseball bat. we were unaware that this was a felony. i still have it displayed in my home.

i had a “valley girl” sleepover party for my 13th birthday. everybody had to dress like valley girls & talk that way. i was like, oh my gawd, a huge dork.

mere days after i got my license and brandy new honda civic, i smashed it into a car that was pulling out of a parking spot at woodbridge mall because i gunned the gas instead of the stomping on the brakes. my bff was in the car. after the information exchange with the bewildered driver, we still went shopping. i bought a pair of sneakers which i then returned a week later but i made my mom drive me. it was years before i ever drove back there. the woman said to my dad, “meester, i don know where she came from.” my crazy bff still drove all over the place with me.

the manner in which i lost my virginity would most certainly be considered date rape today. it was over 21 years ago & i still have not forgiven that guy. i most likely never will.

surgeries: age 12: 8 molars removed age 15: nose job, age 18: 4 impacted wisdom teeth removed, age 21: breast reduction, age 30 & 33: 2  c-sections. age 35: lumpectomy (benign, thank god) age 36: corrective eye surgery for the cross. i sincerely hope i am done.

i secretly love lite fm. i have an entire playlist on itunes. i know all the words to most of the songs. brandy & wildfire are in my top 10.

i LOVE guinea pigs. i had 2 as a kid before it was cool to own them. i had a sleepover with my childhood bff & let “miss piggy” run around in her sleeping bag. the pig left many “gifts.” her mom was not pleased. the modern day guinea pig cult following pleases me to no end. i got not 1, but 2 for my kids when the divorce started. $200 later i realized they are cute, but a pain in the ass to take care of when you live immigrants style in a tiny room with 2 other small people. my kids lost interest in the piggys & i gave them away on craig’s list after 2 months. i still feel guilty & hope they are living happy little guinea pig lives. now i just collect guinea pig books & leave it at that.

my best friend in high school and i spent hours after school cataloging every possible way we wanted to be kissed. we didn’t have boyfriends, but we once hooked up in a foursome situation, latter dubbed “switcheroo with ____ & sue.” i was thrilled until i figured out they just both wanted to hook up with her and i was a mercy killing. she was & still is way hot, no matter how many kids she pops out. you know who you are, bitch.

when i 20 years old and flying home from UF for the holidays one year, i sat next this weird artsy couple. i had the window seat and was essentially trapped. the lady grabbed my hand & said she did “readings” and proceeded to read my palm without my consent. she told me that when i was 40 i would have a major illness but i would recover. i have obsessed about it ever since. when i was 36 & had a lump removed from my breast, and i wondered if that was the illness of which she spoke, but i couldn’t be sure. i have 2 more years to worry about it. so now i fear, “what if i am going through this terrible divorce (14 mos so far) and then i die (god forbid) or the world ending prophecies are true and i never get to enjoy my freedom?” sigh. i am sure she has long since forgotten me & that plane ride, but here i am 17 years later still worrying. it made me realize that you can have a lasting impact on people, positive or negative, long after you have moved on. so be more responsible, you crazy palm readers.

last year, i went on  a date with a 25 yr old. during dinner he got carded and i didn’t. i then strongly suspected he was not even 21. i went back to his dorm room anyway. i was curious.

i have had at least 13 different jobs i can remember & sucked at all of them. in no particular order: ceramics assistant at a camp   (i spilled an entire bag of slip), babysitter (i got nail polish all over someone’s table), grocery store cashier (before the days of scanners), marty’s shoes store clerk, gap sales person, gap kids saleperson ( hello, may i help you find a size?), secretary (for a day – i left after lunch & never returned), bank teller ( we know how that went), payroll sales person at ADP ( i  faked most of my sales numbers), interior design assistant (i helped her organize by throwing out most of her source materials), wallpaper/window treatment sales person inside a paint store (i prayed i got the measurements correct when it was time for pickup/installation), pharmaceutical sales rep ( i was terrified of the office staff & drs. & my main drug was a market dog), psychological study research assistant ( i fudged all of my “research” for some poor dude’s thesis), & interior designer of my own ‘firm” for 11 months (when i was 9 months preggers, i had to sue my very first clients for stopping a check. the entire endeavor actually cost us money. i gladly gave up that empire soon after the first baby came).

when i was 10, i became completely obsessed with puberty & getting my period. i had an entire “starter kit” full of the proper materials under my bed that was ready to go when the time came (it sat dormant for 5 years). i studied the book, what’s happening to me, way before anything was actually happening to me. i still own it. i was actually happy when i sprouted 2 armpit hairs one day. i did flips when i got a giant bush (subsequently, i became a fastidious groomer way ahead of my time when i discovered i could do neat tricks with a hair clipper). i was a strange child.

i have a problem with honesty. too much of it. this why i tell you people all of this crap that is better kept to myself. i most likely have a weird need for self-deprecating attention.

baby hershey, pig #1. way cute.

baby hershey, pig #1. way cute.

cuddles, pig #2. also way cute.

cuddles, pig #2. also way cute.

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13
Jul 09

one bad apple


well, after 4 torturous days that felt like 14, i am back online. my stoooopid macbook arbitrarily had a hissy fit & decided that it no longer recognized safari which is the mac browser. that’s like your own white blood cells attacking the red ones. needless to say, i was beyond irate and even more so that i couldn’t get an appointment with the pompous nerds at the “genius bar” until today. hey mac, you just can’t go getting people all addicted to their technology and then take it away. even heroin addicts get methadone to ease withdrawal symptoms. it’s just plain reckless. i have never felt so helpless & disconnected from the world as i have in these ever-long 4 days.

of course, you know a nasty rant directed at steve jobs, was brewing deep in the bowels of my left hemisphere. i considered writing him a letter, but a friend of mine told me no one would give a shit & i realized that was probably true. my pal said, “blog it out, baby.” so i am. let’s begin. shall we?

first of all, i am the marketing wet dream demographic for apple: a loyal pc user who finally got sick of the constant crashing & burning of my pc, who was ready to switch over to the alternate mac lifestyle, and who could actually afford their damn overpriced mac. their trendy commercials with the cute guy & hipster music finally got to me. i was finally convinced that the superstylin’ mac was the answer to my technological prayers. so, one day i was so po’ed at the ETB (ex to be) & i decided that was it, i need my own laptop, i am going to go spend way too much money on a mac. i stormed out of the house and straight to the mall.

i walked into the apple store & angels sang. i had never seen anything like it. it’s clean minimalist design was like walking through the gates of heaven. beautiful displays of macs, mac books, a clever rainbow of ipods, & sparkling iphones with endless “apps.” it was gorgeous. a sing-song voice in my head purred, ” you belong here. ” a voice which i would later identify as satan’s, because that can only be who turned it all around for apple. and not only did the staff wear color coded t-shirts, but the service was magnanimous. so helpful. finally, computer geeks who treated me with respect and they didn’t even work on commission. the salesnerd actually could have cared less if i bought anything. and i bought their speil about how the mac was finally “friendly” to pc users & compatible with pc programs. “seamless integration.” so it seemed. if the extensive table area devoted to “mac school” didn’t tip me off to the world of trouble i was about to sign on for, then the gd “genius bar” should have. instead of thinking, “is it a problem that there is a need for a free service area devoted exclusively to helping you fix glitches?,” i thought, “how nice, a free service area devoted exclusively to helping you fix glitches” mistake number 1. but i was oblivious. i had fallen in love at first sight and there was no stopping me.

and people can’t buy these macs fast enough. they have absolutely mainstreamed. the store is crowded with masses of sheep no matter what time of day or night you go. if you say,”hey, i will come back later when its not busy. when is that?” the answer is “never.” even if you elect to wait, they will tell you there is no guarantee you will be served that day. on the weekend, there is a line out the door with an actual rope akin to those at disney rides during high season. it is the new dmv. and the suckiest part is, those f*n techno-nerds are immune to womanly charms. cleavage & batting eyelashes will get you no where with them. that is generally my go-to schtick with male service people. fans, my natural wit & charm only go so far on their own.

what follows is the horrifying aftermath of my formerly proud purchase. once home, i took my spanky brandy new mac notebook home & gingerly unpacked it. i inhaled its new computer smell & imagined how my life would immediately change & my laptop & i would live happily ever after. oh sure, i liked the styling of the sites & the fresh applications so much that i was willing to overlook that learning a whole new vernacular wasn’t as easy as promised. i imagined instead how i would edit photos, make home movies, build websites, become a graphic designer, & finally evolve into the self-sufficient techno-geek i secretly longed to be. like any new love, it started out dreamily, but then things between us quickly got rocky. after a month, there were issues & i was searching mac self-help sites for ways to fix glitches on my own. extensive, endless articles on numerous sites. i had no patience to read even 1 of these lengthy articles. forget reading all of those nerd threads & posts. this was clearly not a good sign. and i hardly had time to learn all the new mac apps, much less use them. one day my email & internet access became spotty and the next, the unthinkable happened: 2 days before my year long warranty expired, the hard drive crashed & burned & i lost everything. i called it the “great hard drive crash of ’08,” and although the dorks hidden in the secret mac store back room replaced it, when i asked about all the stuff that was lost, they asked if i had been backing up the hard drive. NO! that’s why i asked, asshole. turns out that unless i had an extra grand laying around for them to “send it out” & only attempt to retrieve my info, no dice. for 1000 smackers, i wasn’t even guaranteed any info could be retrieved. so, i decided to rebuild my itunes library (they are generous enough to resend all of your itune store purchases, but you are warned only this once), take new pix of my kids, & resolved to back up my hard drive forevermore (which i still haven’t done because, apparently, i still haven’t learned my lesson). even though i made the warranty period by 2 days (thank goodness for small things), the damage was done. i had fallen out of love and now i was stuck with an overpriced crappy piece of hardware. get this too – when i asked the dweeb why the hard drive would crash like that he said, “it could be from being moved around too much.” from being moved around too much. it’s a gd laptop. movement is in inherent in the design. otherwise it would be a tower & non-portable. OMG! i was fallng out of love quickly.

another few months went by & i tried to make this doomed relationship work. i really did. and we got along the mac & i. my trust was being rebuilt. then one day i completely lost email access. after another trip back to the geniuses, i learned that after they get you hooked on your pretentious dot mac email address, and you officially change over from being a pc user to a mac user, they neglect to tell you that it cost 100 bux a year to “rent” that space on their server they so happily gave you when you bought the mac. my year had run out. ok, fine i shelled out their ransom because i didn’t feel like finding a new email home or having to update all of my contacts. oh, AND also, all of my saved emails that i needed for my divorce were being held hostage on their server until i paid them their blackmail money. ok, so another major let-down, but we got back on track yet again. what choice did i have?

once again, mac & i lived in harmony for the most part. oh there were issues, but nothing i couldn’t handle. then the gd dvd drive stopped reading discs. the drive would swallow the cd until i forced it out. of course, i had refrained earlier from paying for the $99 extended warranty after the great crash, because, well because, i like to gamble in the extended warranty/service plan arena, & mostly i am an idiot. i let it be & i decided i would deal with the dvd drive later knowing i would have no choice but to throw a lot of money at it at some point. then the face plate also cracked for no apparent reason and was immune to any kind of glue to repair it. what an all around piece of shit! i officially hated the mac now.

a few more months went by & then after i posted my blog on july 9th, the internet blacked out. everything else worked on the laptop except of course anything that required the use of the internet which, by the way, is EVERYTHING. there was nothing wrong with the wireless connection in my house. i am no schmuck – i had already checked that out thoroughly becasue that’s always the first question they ask you, “well, did you plug it in?” yes, bitch, i did.

so after i checked in for my appointment with the concierge today, whom, by the way is the hot chick nerd, which makes her the fucking snot-ass homecoming queen of the apple store, the trekkie fixed it today. he fixed it, not by fixing safari, but by installing a new browser. he still has no idea why safari stopped working. he only knew he had 137 people after me to process. furthermore, the cheapest option, his exact words, for replacing the “optical reader” (that’s nerd speak for dvd drive) would be $300.00 & involved “sending it out” for a week. know why? because i decided not to buy the 99 dollar warranty several months ago. i opted to hold off on that fabulous offer. aaaaauuuuggggggghhhhh. it seems the only answer to fixing the mac involves endlessly spending more money. everything is an add-on with these fuckers. apparently nothing is included with a 2000k laptop other than a fancy light up apple on the front. so now, i am stuck in a dead end relationship with this obnoxious piece of caca. it will be easier to get out of my marriage than to get a new laptop. i don’t have that kind of funding anymore.

there is a reason apple never dominated the pc market. its not the bill gates conspiracy theory apple likes to sell us. it’s because their products suck ass. even the first day i had my ipod it froze & i couldn’t use it for the 5 hour plane trip for which it was specifically purchased. the airport had an ipod kiosk & the dude’s answer was to let the battery run down & try again. oh really, einstein? stellar advice i never would have figured out on my own due to the fact that i couldn’t do anything other than exactly that BECAUSE IT WAS FROZEN. so not only was i up shit’s creek without my music paddle, but i was out 200.00 clams. yes, the damn ipod eventually worked but randomly freezes whenever it feels like it. like for example, when i want to use it. plus apple likes to come out with a new version of the overpriced gadget you just bought a week ago which is really irritating. oh they will let you upgrade, but you are now inconvenienced again. why not just tell people to buy it next week? jerks. and they just can’t get you hooked in enough. integrate everything. make it all wireless. let your mac talk to your pc. let your iphone talk to them & to your email. let your iphone own your soul so when it craps out you are a shell of a human who forgot that you actually used your own brain independently at one time.

sitting there today waiting for my laptop to be fixed, i watched an endless stream of people with laptops, giant towers, ipods, itouches, & iphones wait in line for a visit with the “geniuses.” it finally occurred to me way too late, if the apple products were so damn good, then in theory, the genius bar should be empty. if the stuff is so easy to use, why the need for “mac school?” it’s supposed to be a seamless transition for us pc users to mac use. all a colossal bunch of bullshit. other than the lack of worry about computer viruses, macs are no better than pcs. just a more flashy operating platform with snob appeal & a huge advertising budget. i am less pissed with mac for packaging a piece of shit as a gold bar, than i am with myself for the fact that i considered myself so savvy, but fell for their brilliant marketing campaign. kudos, mac! i could have gotten another sucky pc and paid half as much for the same amount of inconvenience. and to think i had also actually contemplated getting an iphone. no freakin’ way now, boys.

so, from the bottom of my heart, fuck you apple. you’re just plain rotten.

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6
Jul 09

sweatin’ to the oldies.

first off: i feel slightly remorseful & i need to apologize for dissin’ my girl, the teddy bear lover, & those considered to be “teddy bears.” it’s not so much i don’t support her hooking up choices, rather i just saw an opportunity for material & seized it. girl, u know i love you. plus, you know more secrets about me than anyone else (shut-up miller or i will punish you with my scanner) and i will gladly give you a guest spot here & your chance to unload ‘em.

okay, so i am the ultimate yo-yo exerciser. when i am into the gym, i am way into it. i work out for at least an hour 4-5 times a week. i get antsy if i want to go one day and my schedule doesn’t allow. i buy an entire workout wardrobe, stock up on workout bras, fuel up my ipod with my “gym jams” (no lie on the playlist name), buy an arsenal of hair things, acquire cute little white ankle socks, get new sneaks, & a matching water bottle. but, when i fall off the work-out wagon, i fall long and hard abandoning my beloved gym for months at a time. this usually happens in winter, when i tend to hibernate like a bear cub. when i finally do get back on the wagon again, i can’t imagine how i ever fell off in the first place. i turn into the eternally wearing work out clothes about town chick. i am really hoping that i am back on for good, but let’s see how cold it is this winter…
part of my love for the gym lies in the whole gym schtick. i love oogleing the young firm bucks (i do always get caught), checking out the parade of gym homecoming queens (i.e. perfectly toned silicone sisters), the over muscled macho men (always in a tank top), the hot trainers that work there (which, btw, is my only qualification for hiring a trainer), and all the other characters in between. i love seeing tons of people i know there & yenta-ing up a storm. i love that i have run into people i haven’t seen in ages & become reunited. in fact, just this morning, i collected another recruit for my single chicks cult.
i also really love taking the classes but i hate the real estate hierarchy of classes. when you’re a newbie you are relegated to a tiny spot in the back. only the die-hards that could teach the class themselves can stand in the front row. i hate the whole scrambling for position and not knowing the proper gear to retrieve from the closets and i absolutely despise not knowing the routine & feeling like i can’t keep up. as time goes by & you become an established member of the class, you can slowly start clawing your way up front & jockeying for prime instructor front property. it usually requires getting there way before the class begins so you can sprint in & dump your stuff in a spot. it is so cut throat in the popular classes, that no matter how chatty cathy friendly you think you are with the other chicks waiting, its all women for herself when those doors open. elbows are being thrown akin to a secret manhattan prada sample sale. some days i force myself to take a class when i am tired or just not really into it and i watch the clock like i did in high school & count down until its over. now with the gym being extra busy in the summer, i have given up on the classes altogether & settled for the elliptical. and i do truly love your comfortable no impact work out mr. elliptical, but some days i find myself a wee bit bored with you. but generally i love jammin’ out to my ipod, texting my pals, laughing out loud at comedy central with the closed captioning, & watching the peeps in front of me while breaking a mondo sweat on that lovely machine. i just don’t feel like i worked out unless i get that drippy sweat that cascades down my back & pools in my ass crack. now that is a good workout. i do feel like a hamster in a wheel though, doing my 30 minutes forward & 30 minutes backward. if i break it down, i am endlessly paying 40 bucks a month to rent an elliptical.
i tried yoga which i found to be a snore-fest which is really the very point of it. i just can’t relax on a higher level without alcohol being involved. i dig pilates but i am not a loyal follower. i want to get my arms buff but hate going onto the floor with all those guys that look like they are going to eat me for dinner. i need a workout buddy to transition myself over to the weight area or a hot trainer…
but let’s get back to my favorite thing about the gym other than elliptical induced endorphin rush- the people wtaching. jeebus, do i love the people watching!!! i dig watching the people on the treadmills that put the incline up to 10, the mph to 6, and then hold on for dear life to keep up. i used to love to watch the stair-master climbers at my old gym hunched over it climbing away at 90 mph. and from my observations, i have ascertained there is no just way for a dude to look straight while doing the elliptical. sorry guys. then there are the locker room rituals of which i have never really partaken. i don’t do the whole getting ready for my day after my workout thing. i don’t even use a locker for my purse. i annoyingly stick it into the tiny space between machines for others to trip over. the only thing i do in the gym locker room is actually fill up my water bottle in the bathroom sink which causes some chicks to look at me with a mix of disgust & horror.
now there is a snack bar at my gym & i don’t get the whole snack bar thing because its really anti-the reason i am there. plus it sucks to smell toasted bagels while i am working out before breakfast & starving. if they served vodka smoothies i might reconsider cause there are 2 dudes workin’ that snack bar that are waaaaay hot & we all know i like to work the cuties at the bar. actually i would love if they would come around and take coffee orders. that would make it just abso perfect.
so there you go, that’s my gym rant. who want’s to meet on the elliptical tomorrow?
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