That’s it…you can officially call me Scrooge.

Bah and humbug. I love Christmas but I hate tourists. And I hate mass stupidity. Thus, the lighting of the tree at Rockefeller was probably one of the most obnoxious events of my life. And I wasn’t even there.

After my morning commute I was irritated to say the least. Some lame NASCAR event had the streets near my office closed down (or at least blocked) and the sidewalks filled with people. And not just people. Tourists. And not just tourists. NASCAR fans. NASCAR fans might be some of the most annoying people on Earth. And at 9 a.m., that’s just more than I can stomach.

At 5 p.m. I ventured out again. I had a 10-ish block trip to make. Unfortunately, every street that I needed to get to where I was going was blocked because of this stupid tree. So after battling hordes of camera-weilding city-invaders, metal gates and cops, I made it to where I was going….then had to turn around and make my way back. A trip that under normal circumstances would have taken 45 minutes and $20 took over 2 hours and over 40 bucks. Are you kidding?

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the cops wouldn’t let my cab pull in front of my building. Super. So I pryed myself and my garment bags out of the backseat and I was faced with an uncomfortable choice. Fat guy or small child. These were the people blocking my path. I had a decision to make here…someone’s getting pushed out of the way and I am in a less than pleasant mood. So who’s it going to be?

Well, you gotta learn sometime kid. Move it or lose it in the city, and whatever you do, don’t let go of mom’s hand.

I mean…I’m sorry readers, thanks for checking my blog, it’ll probably be the last time…

But I really really hope it isn’t! I have good stuff coming, I promise, but the combination of Thanksgiving travels, lack of computer/internet and a crazy work week have me a bit stalled. In the meantime however, I did finally post pictures so check back if I promised them! And, in the meantime, to keep you here, I will sneak in another new post and I’ll be back asap!

Before Kanye…

(and because I didn’t want to leave you all high and dry before the holidays…)

Shenaniganist goes to the country

You can take the girl out of the city but can you take the city out of the girl? I don’t know but I’m going to find out! This Thanksgiving I’m headed to Central PA for a holiday with Boo and family! Translation for you is, unfortunately, that I may not have internet access for a few days. Fear not though, I’ll update you on my adventures with in-laws upon my return to the city.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! :)

The Sunday Update: November 11, 2007

The Sunday update, or, more posts I can’t take credit for.

Every Sunday my dad sends out the “Sunday update.” It’s a compilation of the week’s best news stories and videos (though admittedly some are more vintage than just the preceding week). By best I mean the funniest or most creative videos and weirdest and most abnormal news articles. I tend not to write on the weekends (I just moved to the city, I’m busy, why don’t you calm down) but I know that Mondays tend to drag and I hate to leave you guys feeling abandoned or deprived in any way. So…enjoy the best of the best of the Sunday update. (Oh, and thanks for letting me filch these from you Daddy ;) )

The vid:

(and a second, because they’re kind of a pair…and because I haven’t posted in awhile and I feel bad):

The news: Man allegedly uses stapler to rob store

ASHLAND, Ky. – A man wearing a ski mask held up an eastern Kentucky ice cream store with a stapler, and briefly got away with $175. Police identified the stapler bandit as Gerald A. Rocchi, 32, who was arrested shortly after he allegedly flashed a chrome-plated stapler at an employee of The Ice Cream Shop in Ashland on Tuesday and demanded money.

Ashland Police Capt. Don Petrella said he didn’t know if Rocchi planned to shoot staples at the shop’s employees or use it as a blunt instrument if he didn’t get the cash. It didn’t come to that because the employees handed over the cash, Petrella said.

Several witnesses saw Rocchi leave the shop and told police where he was headed, Petrella said. After arresting Rocchi, police searched his house and found money, a stapler and a ski mask, Petrella said.

Petrella said the chrome finish on the stapler could have made it look like a gun “if someone didn’t get a good look at it.”

Rocchi was charged with first-degree robbery. He made his first appearance in Boyd District Court on

The Nyquil Hangover

One of the deadliest side effects to one of the best medicines ever invented, the Nyquil hangover is an absolute certainty after ingesting the substance. You have a cold. You’ve been sniffling for a week now and you just can’t sleep. Your nose is stuffy, causing you to snore, and you have to sleep with your mouth wide open if you want to keep breathing during the night (which, you know, is usually a good idea) so your throat ends up sore in the morning. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle and one that can only be broken with the coma-inducing goodness of Nyquil (to be fair, you’ll have the same results with the less expensive but equally effective store brand).

The Nyquil experience starts out something like this: You’re tired, achy, and ready to sleep off whatever it is that you, your roommate, your significant other and two thirds of the people in your office have contracted. You pop the pills (or for the brave among us, you swallow the appropriate dosage) and you wait. If you go the liquid route, you’ll quickly experience the warming sensation down your throat as though you’ve just taken a shot.

Anywhere from 5-15 minutes later you’ll start to feel pretty good. Your whole body feels warmed and your aches start to melt away. On top of this, your eyelids are drooping. The temptation at this stage is to get excited about the fact that you know you’re sleeping tonight–RESIST! That anticipation tends to counteract the drowse factor you’re experiencing and can throw off your entire Nyquil experience.

Settle into bed. Get your pillows and blankets arranged into that perfect squish position and get comfortable. Side, back, TV on, TV off, whatever it takes. Then just enjoy. Relax and let the drug-induced splendor of a good night’s sleep kick in. And enjoy it. Because when you wake up you’re going to wish you hadn’t…at least not yet.

It doesn’t matter how much sleep you get–6 hours, 9 hours–it’s all the same. You’ll wake up feeling a little bit like you’ve been run over. Your eyes will still be heavy and you’ll have trouble focusing for quite awhile. It is at this point that most of you will turn to the caffeine. Go ahead, it’s not going to help. If you haven’t slept off every last drop, you’ve got no chance. Hot shower, cold shower, coffee, tea–none of it will make a difference.

But this is where the beauty sets in. You’re still unable to go about the business of your daily routine. You can’t operate a vehicle in this state. And even if you could manage to get to work, someone is going to trust you to handle their finances? Or their health? I don’t think so. Thus, you are stuck (and I use the term loosely) with another day home on the couch. Sip your orange juice, watch crappy daytime TV and nap as much as you can. Because once you do, you’re going to have take another dose of a doze-inducer to ensure a good night’s sleep that will get you back on your feet. But let’s face it, there’s nothing better for a cold than a few days of cough drops, tissues, and zero responsibility.

Pardon, should the big black clouds be worrying me?

So one of the interesting side effects to living in New York is a heightened sense of paranoia. Not that I’ll be mugged, murdered or raped of course, but since 9/11 things make you stop and ask “uh, should I be worried here?” Example? How about today?

I’m sitting in my apartment, looking out of my window (I’m typing stuff, I’m not just staring out of the window like a lonely cat lady) and I see huge billows of dark smoke. Hm, well, that’s interesting. I’ve seen a lot of buildings smoking today–heat finally getting turned on and all–but this did seem excessive. I went back to my computer and looked up again a few minutes later. Still smoking. Well, at this point I start to get a little concerned. So I turn off my Top Model Marathon (so you know I’m already upset) and flip to CNN. O.J. trial. Keep flipping. O.J. trial. O.J. trial. O.J. trial. (Which, by the way, was beyond boring).

Local news, national news, no one was covering the billowing smoke. Sweet. I’m not dying. Now, it’s not that I was actually concerned–really, who’s gonna bomb the upper east side?–but when you see big, black clouds floating upward for 15 or 20 minutes, sometimes you start to worry. Where are my shoes? Where is my coat? How long will it take the elevator to get up to my floor? Do I have time to make a sandwich?

Pardon the lack of humor in this post–my wit is being put on hold while I get over a cold–but to make up for it, I took pictures and will post them asap. But until then, have a good weekend kiddos.

Do you win fast?

Okay…the holidays are coming up and accordingly, the number of toy/game commercials is increasing. Cool. I like toys as much as the next kid (because yes, I’m still kind of a kid). I grew up with Monopoly, The Game of Life, all the old classics. So I have a real problem with what’s happening now.

Monopoly Electronic Banking.

Seriously? The girl in the commercial hypes the game by saying that she “wins fast.” Have you people never played Monopoly?! The whole point of the game is that you waste 7 hours, dealing your paper money, and pushing that little thimble around the board. You volunteer to be the banker and you sneak a couple of bills into your own pile while no one is looking. What is this ATM bullshit? No one who believes in the sanctity of the game will consider this electronic version to be an improvement to the game. Nay, they will see it as sacrilege.

Equally problematic for me? The Game of Life Twists and Turns. Has anyone seen this commercial? Do you know what this game does? This game requires that the players have a Visa Game Card which they insert into the LIFEPod (a device that “tracks every facet of your game”). It requires 2 AA batteries.

Excuse me? The Game of Life does not require batteries. It requires that sad little plastic dial that falls off its cardboard axis when you spin it too hard. You drive the 6-seater station wagon with the plastic “people pegs” who fall out whenever you add someone else to the car. You don’t get to become a movie star. You don’t have an entourage. You just try to make it out alive and with the most cash.

I had enough problems with Electronic Battleship and Electronic Guess Who? But you know what? I got over it. Those games seemed to be unfazed by electronic aid. I even overlooked the variations of our staple games. The Simpsons edition, the Sponge Bob Edition. I own Penn State-Opoly and I’m okay with that. I like mixing it up a bit. But I do not, under any circumstances, condone making those games electronic. There is no need to do so. And sure, every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. Treasury, but why? WHY? would you want to ruin a statistic like that? Just seems like a waste if you ask me.

If you see something, say something.

If you’ve ever ridden the subway, you’re familiar with the saying “if you see something, say something.” It’s posted to encourage people to report “strange” behavior on the trains. Well…I guess “strange” behavior isn’t exactly what they mean–there’s plenty of strange behavior that goes unreported. I think the idea is that if dangerous activity is witnessed, it will reported. But let’s face facts: we’ve all seen the series finale of Seinfeld…we know New Yorkers don’t report stuff.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Saturday night Boo, Rachel and I ventured to my favorite burger joint/bar–Dorrian’s. You may remember Dorrian’s from the Preppy Killer case (not his recent drug bust, his initial murder bust). Well, the place seemed to be clear of murderers on my past few visits so I told Boo and Rachel it was a must that we go.

We grabbed a window seat and soon noticed a guy in a van with a light on. Not his interior light, a separate desk lamp, attached to a desk of sorts. And he seemed to be hard at work. Performing a surgery, perhaps–he was wearing a surgical mask anyway. More and more people started to notice this guy and curiosity grew inside the bar. While a crowd of onlookers grew inside, passersby outside were equally confused by the situation. People would pass his car, stop, walk back, stare inside and keep going. This guy never looked up.

We started to take bets as to what he could be doing. I guessed making jewelry. He looked like he could be soldering something. Then a car drove up next to his, stopped, and he handed them something. Ohh, so it’s that kind of car. He is selling something…not jewelry…this is a drug dealer, isn’t it?

This started to weird people out. One guy inside began to contemplate calling 911. “After all, if you see something, say something.” I’m not making it up. He kept saying it. Over and over until he finally called 911. (NOTE: Rachel and I decided that we would do our part and took photos of the guy…well, of me and the guy.)

Guy: So I called them. They didn’t seem too concerned.

Hostess: What do you mean?

Guy: Well, they asked me what the emergency was. I told them there really wasn’t one, but in these times of terrorism…

Moments later a police came skulking down the street. Lights off, barely moving it turned the corner and pulled up next to our mystery van. They chatted for a few minutes then the po-po drove off and left our man, lights on, to pack his gear. So clearly not drugs, but what then? 911 guy had the answer we were looking for. Any guesses? No? You sure? Now’s your chance…

Fine, I’ll tell you. He was a traveling nail clipper sharpener and he was sharpening nail clippers for the salon around the corner.

In his van. In the (mostly) dark. On a Saturday night.

Fash-backwards #5: Corporate Edition (and a celebrity shot! oh boy!)

And now, for your reading pleasure, a fash-backwards celebrity shot by Boo:

It’s one thing to sight questionable wardrobe choices on the subway or on the streets, but what about when it happens in the corporate office setting? Case in point: “Casual Friday.” I work in an office with a Business Casual dress code. Not everyone abides by the rules, and Friday is normally a day where this is taken to a very big extreme. If you buy the appropriate charity stickers, you can wear jeans to work. I have nothing against wearing a comfortable pair of jeans to work mind you–we should be able to wear them all the time–but in a business casual setting, the appropriate top should be
worn with said jeans.

Wear a button up shirt if you’re a man, a nice blouse if you’re a woman. For both, a sweater would be more than appropriate as we move toward the fall and winter months. As with any article of clothing, there are exceptions to the rule…for example, those uber-girly sweaters that shouldn’t be let out of the closest after middle school.

A co-worker in her late 20s was wearing a pink sweater. Fair enough right? Then make it a pink HOODED sweater with a pink fuzzy boa attached to the hood. This is unacceptable, unless you are the 10-year-old daughter of said employee…and this is bring your child to work day…which it is not.

Professionalism can be shown in many ways: working hard, learning how to manage time and emotions appropriately, etc. Above all, your dress in a corporate environment will show that you mean business. Wearing a suit to the office will show that; so will black slacks and a tie. Pink boa/hooded sweater? Not so much. Someone needs to send this woman back to middle school and teach her how to dress…unlike a sixth grader.