What I got for Christmas:

• iPod Shuffle case – the lilac one is so cute!
• Trivial Pursuit, Book Lover’s Edition – which, I might add, is really hard, especially for those of us who are quite illiterate…
• Gift cards to Sears, Target, Ann Taylor, and Barnes & Noble (so I can attempt to answer at least one question in that Trivial Pursuit game)
• A beautiful silver necklace and a bottle of white wine
• Lottery tickets (didn’t win a damn thing)

But my favorite gift, hands down, was the doorknob hanger my niece made me. It’s the cutest thing!

Good job, everyone. Now, keep ‘em coming. No reason the gifting has to stop at Christmas!

All I want for Christmas is...

• INXS, "Switch." But only because I can’t get J.D. himself. Oh, if only I could. The things I'd do. Er, um, back to the list ...
• James Blunt, "Back to Bedlam." He’s the next Maroon 5, only with a longer shelf life, I hope.
• "Best of Simon & Garfunkel." That "Bridge over Troubled Waters," it always does me in. And I'm afraid of bridges ...
• Bo Bice, "The Real Thing." Hm, I wonder if his new baby is the realer thing.
• "The Notebook," with Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling, or, as I affectionately call them, McSling.
• iPod Shuffle case, in pink. C'mon, I'm a girl. I need pink stuff.
• Black & Decker jar opener. I'm only (ahem) 31, but even I need a little help sometimes. Hey, it's either that or a Sugar Daddy. And the chances of me getting the latter are slim to none.
• "Freakonomics." I had to put a book in here, you know, just so it would look like I'm into this reading thing.
• An emergency preparedness kit (like a Prepared Pak). The Car Paks are also neat.
• Gift card for Sears.
  

Ok, now get to it. There’s only 11 shopping days left!

(Clockwise, from top left: Dan O., Kimberly, Dan F., Ray, Tasha, moi, Robin, Henretta, Chandra, Rita.)

We had our holiday party at work last week. It also doubled as a sort of farewell party, as we lose some of our co-workers, thanks to the move. Needless to say, it was bittersweet. While we enjoyed the yummy food and the Secret Santa gifts, the thought that this was our last time together as a group was in the back of our minds.

I won’t go on and on about how I’ll miss working with these folks. Ok, I can’t not say it. I will really miss these people. For the last four years and eight months, they’ve made me happy to go to work in the morning. It’s corny, and many people say it without meaning it, but we really have grown into a family. A dysfunctional family sometimes, but a family nonetheless.

I know all things happen for a reason, and I know that maybe a couple of years from now I’ll look back and understand it, but right now, it’s still sad.

Get yourself together, Maria!

Ok. So anyway, if you want to see more pictures of the best office gang ever, click here.

Pics from my trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art: click here

Race Taylor and Yours Truly (Now, seriously, what is up with the rooooound face?!? I'm gonna have to get all Mariah Carey-ish and start traveling with my own lighting people.)

Sigh. Ok, well, as promised, pics from the concert: click here.

I went to the INXS concert last night. My man J.D. Fortune was lookin' great! He made eye contact with me, yes he did. He wanted me. I know it.

Ahem, ok, back to reality.

The concert took place at the China Club in midtown Manhattan. Great venue: small, intimate -- only about 200 people were there.

I won't even mention that my guest was late, causing me to lose my place in the front of the line, thus, my place in the front row. I won't go into that. I won't. Instead, I'll focus on Mr. Fortune himself. He sounded fantastic! I admit I've never been a huge fan of INXS. I liked their songs enough. I wouldn't change the channel if they came on, but I'd never, say, run out and buy one of their CDs. But J.D. has added something to the band. They seem re-energized, ready to go again. And, since "Rock Star: INXS," the other band members have taken more of the spotlight, so it's not just the singer's show. Everyone seems really happy to be there, and their attitude is infectious. (Let's hope that's all that's infectious ... J.D., I'm sure, is getting plenty of action. [Cue jealous sigh here.])

Anyhoo, they came on stage at about 7:30, led by my favorite DJ, WPLJ's Race Taylor (who was kind enough to let me take a picture with him ... he even offered to take his shirt off, like J.D., but good taste prevailed). Race asked them some questions about what it's been like, what their plans are, etc., etc. Then they played a mix of their most well-known songs, like "Devil Inside," "Beautiful Girl" and "Suicide Blonde," and some of their new ones, including my personal fave, "Pretty Vegas" (written by Hotty McHotterton himself).

All in all, a really fun night. I'll have pictures soon (about 25 of them ... all of J.D.), and I will, of course, share them here.

I won! I won! I woooonnnnn!

I won tickets to a private concert with INXS!

Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it. I’m going to see INXS next Monday at the China Club. I won tickets on WPLJ!

I worked for it, though. I’ve been calling like a maniac (insert joke here) for a week and a half. I even canceled plans with friends last weekend so I could stay home and try to win the tickets. For crying out loud, I practically had a phone bank going last night. I had seven people lend me their cell phones so I could call in and try to win tickets. And I still didn’t. So I was on my way home from Jersey earlier today, and I thought I’d give it one last try. And voila! I freakin’ won!

As you know, INXS’ new lead singer JD Fortune is my future husband. OK, that sounds a little stalkerish (a little?!?), so let’s just keep that between us, shall we?

I’m so f’ing excited. I hope I can bring a camera! If so, I’ll take pics, and you can decide if we make a cute couple. Doh! There I go again. Er, never you mind.

Now I just have to concentrate on not totally embarrassing myself during the meet & greet. Hah. Easier said than done.

Worse comes to worse, I’ll have some good stories to tell ...

My biggest pet peeve, with regards to crime shows: celebrity guest actors.

The moment you see the guest actor, you know he/she is the one who did it. Case in point: In this week’s “CSI,” Sarah and Catherine investigate the death of a woman (“woman A”) who adopted the embryo of another woman (“woman B”) so she could have a child. As soon as you see the mother of “woman B,” you know she did it, because she’s a well-known character actress.

In “Law & Order: Criminal Intent,” Michael Gross (aka Steven Keaton from “Family Ties”) guest starred as an art dealer. Of course, the moment you see him, you know he’s the killer because, well, why else would he be in “L&O”?

I wish the casting directors would realize that part of the fun for viewers is in trying to figure out who the killer is. As soon as you see a well-known actor on screen, you know exactly who did it, which takes away most of the fun.

So a note to all casting directors: Stop it!

And on a side note, why is Fox putting “Prison Break” on hiatus? It’s got huge ratings, and is one of the first big hits for Fox in a while. (And it stars Wentworth Miller, who, loyal readers will know, is my future husband ... Gee, I have a lot of future husbands, don't I?)

I know Fox wants to make room for “24,” but seriously, asking viewers to wait until May for new episodes is ridiculous.

How do these people get their jobs?!?

I took my niece and nephew to the movies this weekend to see “Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.”

There was a guy sitting in front of us with two kids -- one was a girl about 5 or 6 years old, the other a boy about 9 or 10. The kids talked throughout the entire movie. Correction: They didn’t talk; they screamed. “Why did he do that?!?” “What does that mean?!?” “That’s funny, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!? It’s funny!!”

Now, I know kids will be kids, but the “father” (and I put that in quotes because the girl kept calling him “Tony” instead of “daddy,” so who knows?) was just as bad. His responses were equally as loud, and he did nothing to quiet them down.

And when they left (early, before the movie ended, thank goodness) they left their popcorn bags, sodas, candy by their seats.

What happened to teaching kids proper etiquette? My niece and nephew (she’s 7, he’s 3 -- three!) didn’t talk, cry, complain, etc. They sat there and watched it, silently. The few times my niece wanted to say something to me, she whispered it in my ear.

And had I said something to the guy, I would have been given dirty looks or, worse, screamed at or accosted. Because that’s what people do these days should someone question their behavior.

I’m sick and tired of it. I try to be courteous, but even I find myself getting testy after having been treated like crap time after time. I mean, if everyone else does it, why can’t I?

And let’s be real; everyone says they treat others nicely, but there obviously have to be people who are doing it, because we’ve all experienced it.

I say all the well-raised people should band together and start a movement -- bring shame to those who want to ruin our movie-going (or shopping, eating, etc.) experience. Any ideas?

(The movie was really good, by the way.)

I went to a karaoke bar Saturday with a couple of friends, and I had to relay this exchange I had with the person sitting next to me:

Brain Surgeon: “I’m Spanish.”
Me: “Oh, really? From where?”
Brain Surgeon: “Portugal.”

Sigh.

Ok, so let’s just get this straight. People from Portugal are Portuguese, not Spanish. Just like people from Germany are German, not Italian. Oh, and also, people from Mexico are Mexican, not Spanish. Same goes for all the other Spanish-speaking countries. Notice how I said “Spanish-speaking,” not “Spanish.” There is a distinction, folks. We do not eat black beans and rice, plantains, etc., in Spain. The first time I had Mexican food was on my 23rd birthday, at Chi Chi’s.

I’m not saying one nationality is better than the other. I’m just saying they’re not the same.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go drink a caipirinha and listen to mariachi music.

I went to yoga class last night. I’ve done yoga before, but mostly by watching a DVD or in small breaks while doing kickboxing – never a full-length, one-hour class.

So here I am, in the tree position, about 35 minutes into the class, when I feel my stomach doing stuff it should only be doing in the privacy of my own home. I know what’s coming, and there’s nothing I can do to prevent it. Oh, I try, alright. I clench my butt, I pray to the sphincter gods -- to no avail.

I mean, yeah, I should have known better than to eat black-bean soup that day. And I know that yoga relaxes you … all of you. But man, there should have been something I could have done to turn the sucker around.

I tried to pretend it was the woman in front of me. I made a disgusted face when I smelled it, but it was fairly obvious that I was the progenitor of said stench.

How embarrassing! Oh well. I guess I now have an extra hour of free time on Wednesdays. Maybe I’ll take the spin class. At least then I could contain it with the bicycle seat.

I don’t know about you, but I love a good chick flick. There are a handful of movies you can count on for those days that you just need a good cry: “Beaches,” “Steel Magnolias,” “Bridges of Madison County,” “Bride of Chucky.” Ok, I’m kidding on that last one.

But I saw one this weekend that trumps all other chick flicks: “The Notebook.”

Based on the Nicholas Sparks book, “The Notebook” follows the story of Allie and Noah, who meet as teenagers and fall madly in love but are forced to separate when Allie’s rich parents disapprove of Noah, who works at the local mill. The movie is told in flashbacks, as an old man reads the story to an old woman in a nursing home, sort of like “The Princess Bride” on Paxil.

So about an hour into the movie, I started crying. I still haven’t stopped. Seriously, I have never cried so much at a movie. And if you know me, you know I cry easily. There’s this one wine commercial that kills me every time.

I don’t want to give anything away about the movie, so I won’t mention any more about what happens, but if you love a good cry, trust me, rent this movie!

Now, I know when I say this kind of stuff only happens to me, it’s a little hard to believe, but seriously, this stuff only happens to me:

So I ordered TiVo last week. As of yesterday, I still hadn’t gotten it, so I called for a status update and, after many conversations back and forth between TiVo and UPS, I finally find out that they delivered it to the wrong place (438 instead of 436).

No big deal, right? They can just get the package back from the person at 438. Except she won’t give it back.

Yes, that’s right … When they went to get back the package back, the lady at 438 said “No.” When they explained that it wasn’t hers and was delivered to her by mistake, she said “No.” Now she won’t even open the door.

So not only is my neighbor a thieving biotch, but I am still without TiVo.

I feel like such a moe-ron.

At acting class tonight, our instructor, Deborah, made us do a "trust exercise." Sigh. You know this is not going to turn out well...

So this is how it went: I had to stand at one end of the room while my classmates stood at the other end. I then had to close my eyes and walk towards my classmates, without hesitation and with the full knowledge that they wouldn’t let me walk into the wall.

With the exception of Sarah, I don’t know my classmates all that well. But I do know this much: They will not let me walk into the wall. Because they’re normal human beings. Like me. Ok, I take that back. I’m a freak.

I knew I was going to have a problem with this. When I previously took a class with Deborah, she made us do the exercise and I totally freaked out. So my hyperventilation really did not come as a surprise. What did sort of surprise me was just how scared I was. Before she even called on me, I started crying. I could barely lift my legs from the ground to start walking. And when I did, I kept my clasped hands up by my chest, scrunched up my face out of fear, and just kept chanting "Please don’t let me hit the wall. Please don’t let me hit the wall." Seriously. That’s pathetic.

I am going to practice this until I conquer the fear. Er, scratch that. I know my friends and family. They’ll just trip me. Or push me into the wall. Oh, please. Like you’ve never met them (or are one of them). You know it’s true!

Yesterday was Dessert Day at work, and my banana pudding pie (no, that’s not a euphemism) was a big hit. So I thought I’d share the recipe here, because that’s what I do. I’m a giver. I give.

Banana Pudding Pie

1 Ready Crust, chocolate
1 package instant vanilla pudding
1 cup cold milk
1 tub (8 oz) thawed whipped topping
½ tsp vanilla
2 bananas, sliced
Chocolate shavings (or syrup)

In bowl, combine pie filling (pudding mix), milk, vanilla and half of the whipped topping. Mix until blended, thick.

Pour 1/3 of mixture into crust. Layer half of the sliced bananas on top. Cover with remaining filling. Chill 2 hours or overnight.

Garnish with other half of the bananas, whipped topping and chocolate savings (or syrup).

Enjoy!

I have hit a milestone: I’ve lost 35 lbs!

It’s funny, though. I don’t quite feel, psychologically, the way I thought I would. Of course, I’m happy and all that I’ve lost all that weight, and I feel better than I have in a really long time, but it’s been a weird feeling because I’m not as satisfied as I thought I’d be.

When I started Weight Watchers about a year and a half ago, I set the goal as a number I thought I’d be really happy with. I thought, wow, if I could get down to this weight, I’d really be happy with my body. But I still feel unsatisfied, still feel fat. I’m setting a new goal, another 10 lbs, but I wonder if that will make a difference either. When I get to that weight, will I still feel like I should lose yet another 10 lbs?

The best part of the weight loss has been going shopping for smaller clothes. But it’s been a struggle to get out of the “fat mentality.” I still keep trying on clothes in my old size, because that’s all I’ve known. I don’t even try clothes on in a medium, sometimes even a large, because I’m certain they’re not going to fit, so why make myself depressed? I’m so certain at the time that I will have turned out to just have been self-delusional about the weight loss, and when I try on those sizes, I will have proven myself right.

I’m not a skinny person -- I never will be. I have what they call “birthing hips.” (Hope to never put that to the test!) That’s why I set a goal I could live with. It’s not so low that it will only last two weeks, but not so high that it won’t make a difference to my health or how I feel about myself. But it turns out it’s still not enough. I love when people I haven’t seen in a while tell me I look great, or ask if I’ve lost a lot of weight. It feels great. But then I think: “Don’t get excited, Maria. You’re still as fat as you were. It’s just this particular outfit that makes you look thinner than you really are.”

I’m on my way to my second goal, and I wonder if that really will have an effect. Will those next 10 lbs be the ones that make me really change my attitude?

For those of you who haven't watched the season opener of "Lost," don't worry, I won't run it for you.

But for those who did watch it, did you catch the irony in the "We interrupt this program to bring you the following news bulletin" announcement? The newscaster broke in to announce that a Jet Blue plane had to make an emergency landing after the front wheel in its landing gear failed to operate properly. During "Lost." Funny ... yet creepy.

[Spoiler Alert!]

The bag of chocolate is safe for another day...

J.D. is now the front man for INXS!

I'm a little bummed, though. Not because J.D. won (I knew my future hubby could do it!), but because I really, really wanted a Hershey's Kiss (though I'll take one from J.D. ... Ba-dum-pum!).

See you at the concert... :-)

Had my first acting class at the Performing Arts Studio last night. Sadly, there are no Mr. Hotty McHot-Hots in the class this time. Bummer. What am I supposed to daydream about now, huh?

Anyhoo, so we did a few exercises last night to learn subtext and intention. Now, I know many of you are not terribly familiar with the thee-a-turr, so I'll try to break it down in simple terms. (Those of us in the business are so giving...)

The first exercise was on subtext. We all had a line to say, and we had to say it in a way that would make our subtext clear. For example, you can say "I love you" in many different ways. The way you say it when you mean "Let's get married" is different from when you mean "and if I can't have you, no one will!" The inflection of your voice, the volume, etc., all are going to be different depending on your subtext.

The second exercise was on "intention." Pretty much every line of script has an intention behind it -- your character's goal for that particular line. So the instructor, Deborah, broke us up into teams of two, and we had to improvise scenes. Mine, with fellow classmate Sarah, was to improvise a scene in which I go into a jewelry store and buy a ring. Sarah's "intention" was to sell me the ring at all costs. My "intention" was to case out the place to rob it later. Of course, neither of us knew what our intentions were when we started the scene. It turned out pretty well.

The third, and last, exercise combined what we just learned about intention and subtext. We were given six lines of dialogue, and we had to create a scene with that dialogue. In Sarah and my scene, I was asking her to tell me whether a cake I'd baked was tastier than my competitor's cake, and she didn't want to tell me that she liked the competitor's cake better.

All in all, it was a fun class. If you've ever been interested in Hollywood, or even Broadway, I recommend taking an acting class. It's not something I'll ever pursue as a career, but it's interesting to realize what goes into acting. Certainly gives me a better appreciation of the craft. ("The craft" ... look at me, all professional and stuff...)

The future Mr. Maria Diarrhea.

If you don't know who this is, you haven't been watching "Rock Star: INXS" ... and you don't know what you're missing.

J.D. (we even share the same last initial!) is my favorite going into next week's finale. If he doesn't win, I vow to remain constipated for a week. Constipated -- now what kind of characteristic is that for Maria Diarrhea? You tell that to INXS. You tell them. Because I've got the king-size bag of Hershey's ready.

Ahhh, my favorite time of the year! The new fall season starts this week.

Here’s a rundown of all the must-see shows, in my humble couch-potato opinion:

Monday:
"How I Met Your Mother": I haven’t seen it yet, but the previews make me feel inadequate as a single woman, so it must be great!
"Prison Break": If you haven’t seen this yet, catch up immediately! Ok, so a big reason to watch is leading man Wentworth Miller, a.k.a. "the hot dude in the Mariah Carey" videos, but it also happens to be a really well-written, well-acted show. And one of the few shows that will make me miss "Las Vegas," one of my fave guilty pleasures.

Tuesday:
"Gilmore Girls": Will Luke say yes to Lorelai’s marriage proposal? Will Rory go back to Yale? Will Jess’ return shake up Rory and Logan’s relationship? Will I be tuning in to find out? You bet your sweet arse I will!
"The Amazing Race": This is a tough one, as it’s up against "Commander in Chief" with Geena Davis and "My Name is Earl" with Jason Lee, but I think "AR" might win. Then again, it’s the family edition this season, and I’m not really itching to hear "Are We There Yet?" for an hour, so...

Wednesday:
"The Apprentice: Martha Stewart": Count me among those who heart Martha.
"Lost": What, you thought I’d watch "Head Cases" instead? I think not.

Thursday:
"Survivor: Guatemala": Nothing could keep me away from Probst, er, I mean, this show.
"CSI": One "Apprentice" a week is enough, and sorry, Donald, but Martha’s got the new-kid-on-the-block advantage here. Plus, I need something to feed my serial-killer-in-the-attic paranoia.

Friday:
"Numbers": I’d like to say I’m too busy on Friday nights to watch TV, but we all know that’s not true, so why even try?

Saturday:
Even if I have to pretend to be out partying, I will not watch TV on Saturday nights ... I’ll rent a movie. Ba-dum-pum.

Sunday:
"Desperate Housewives": Every Sunday at 10:01 p.m., I say I don't care what happens on this show anymore. And every Sunday at 8:59, I can't wait to see it again. So I'll spend an hour on Wysteria Lane and I'll love every minute of it.
"Grey’s Anatomy": Oh, Patrick Dempsey, how you have matured. Yum-my. Oh, I mean, it's a really well-written and well-acted show.

I woke up at 6:01 this morning. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Except that I went to sleep at around 5:30 a.m.

No, I wasn’t out partying with Brad and George again. (That was last week.) No, I, Maria Diarrhea, was convinced -- convinced! -- that someone had snuck into my house while I wasn’t there and was hiding in the attic, waiting for me to fall asleep so he could torture and kill me. Never mind that, in order to get out of the attic, he’d have to make his way through a closet full of shoes, boxes and cleaning supplies. Yeah, that wouldn’t make any noise at all.

So, it started at around 8:30, when I heard one of the typical house noises one hears. Then I heard the noise about three more times, before going to bed at 11:00. Now, most people, when they hear such noises, (correctly) attribute it to the house settling. Not me. Oh, no. I go right to “CSI,” and where’s Nick Stokes when you really need him, huh?

So I went to bed and turned the alarm on. But that wasn’t enough, because I kept hearing something my brother said to me a while ago: “Alarm lines can be cut.” Um, hello? Have we just met? Do you not know me?!? Why don’t you just tell me there’s no point in locking the doors because locks can easily be picked? (Oh, lord ... not gonna think about it ... not ... gonna ... think ... about ... it...)

Anyhoo, so I went to bed, turned on the alarm, and put the alarm remote in my palm, because, you know, if someone comes into my room, I can hit the panic button, thus alerting an operator in Kalamazoo that I’m about to be gutted, and he will, in turn, call the authorities, who will arrive approximately 37 minutes after I’m dead.

So I finally got all these nasty thoughts out of my head when I heard one last noise. The noise itself didn’t scare me (I was too tired at this point), but as I turned my head in the direction of the noise, I saw what I thought was something fly over me. I don’t know if you have this, but when I move my eyes, I see what look like little mosquitoes -- they're actually just miniscule stains on my eyeballs, but if I move my eyes quickly enough, it looks like a big ol’ fly. At 3:30 a.m., though, that doesn’t really register.

So now I’ve got to contend not only with the rapist/torturer/serial killer, but with some unknown flying insect that is apparently also waiting for me to go to sleep before it attacks.

If you know me, you know I was not about to give either of them the satisfaction of sleeping. Hah! That’ll show ‘em. But of course, you also know that there was no serial killer, no large flying insect. No. Sadly, I am just a nutcase.

World, meet the new James Bond: Daniel Craig.

Ok, it’s not official, yet. And there certainly have been many names bandied about as possible replacements for Pierce Brosnan, some (Clive Owen) more interesting than others (Jude Law?). But, after having watched "Layer Cake," I’m convinced Craig is up to the task.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the biggest fan of the Bond movies. In fact, the first one I saw was the first one starring Brosnan. So I’m coming at this from a newbie’s point of view. But Craig certainly seems to fit the bill: He’s charming. He looks great in a suit. And those piercing blue eyes ... hmm...

If you liked "The Usual Suspects," you’ll like "Layer Cake." True to its title, the movie is layered with plot points that don’t really seem to make sense, until the end. As with "Suspects," the joy in watching "Cake" is after the movie ends – when you go back and try to make the puzzle pieces fit and discover clues you missed.

But enough about the movie, and back to Craig. Maybe it’s the British accent, but even the fact that he’s not a head-turner in the way that, say, Gorin Visnjic, is, makes him more attractive. "I know I’m not gorgeous, but I’m so f***ing great in the sack that you can’t resist me. Oh, and look how great I look hanging 2,000 feet in the air from this thin little cable attached to a helicopter I just happened to find in the middle of the rain forest. And this hot ecologist I just saved from certain death? I will be pleasuring her later this evening in ways previously thought humanly impossible. Then I’m going to have some waffles."

Oh, Danny boy.

Well, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to, er, go buy some syrup ... or something.

I was going to write about the tragedy in New Orleans, but this opinion piece from The New York Times says it all:

Waiting for a Leader

George W. Bush gave one of the worst speeches of his life yesterday, especially given the level of national distress and the need for words of consolation and wisdom. In what seems to be a ritual in this administration, the president appeared a day later than he was needed. He then read an address of a quality more appropriate for an Arbor Day celebration: a long laundry list of pounds of ice, generators and blankets delivered to the stricken Gulf Coast. He advised the public that anybody who wanted to help should send cash, grinned, and promised that everything would work out in the end.

We will, of course, endure, and the city of New Orleans must come back. But looking at the pictures on television yesterday of a place abandoned to the forces of flood, fire and looting, it was hard not to wonder exactly how that is going to come to pass. Right now, hundreds of thousands of American refugees need our national concern and care. Thousands of people still need to be rescued from imminent peril. Public health threats must be controlled in New Orleans and throughout southern Mississippi. Drivers must be given confidence that gasoline will be available, and profiteering must be brought under control at a moment when television has been showing long lines at some pumps and spot prices approaching $4 a gallon have been reported.

Sacrifices may be necessary to make sure that all these things happen in an orderly, efficient way. But this administration has never been one to counsel sacrifice. And nothing about the president's demeanor yesterday - which seemed casual to the point of carelessness - suggested that he understood the depth of the current crisis.

While our attention must now be on the Gulf Coast's most immediate needs, the nation will soon ask why New Orleans's levees remained so inadequate. Publications from the local newspaper to National Geographic have fulminated about the bad state of flood protection in this beloved city, which is below sea level. Why were developers permitted to destroy wetlands and barrier islands that could have held back the hurricane's surge? Why was Congress, before it wandered off to vacation, engaged in slashing the budget for correcting some of the gaping holes in the area's flood protection?

It would be some comfort to think that, as Mr. Bush cheerily announced, America "will be a stronger place" for enduring this crisis. Complacency will no longer suffice, especially if experts are right in warning that global warming may increase the intensity of future hurricanes. But since this administration won't acknowledge that global warming exists, the chances of leadership seem minimal.

[Related item here]

Claudia and David

They're so cute, I could just eat them up!

To see more, click here.

I've found my long-lost sister!!!

BERLIN (Reuters) -- A German woman was so shocked by a spider crawling across her face that she lost control of her car and crashed head on into a roadside tree.

The 23-year-old woman screamed and let go of the steering wheel, causing her small car to veer off the road into the tree. The car was totally destroyed but the woman escaped with only slight injuries.

"She was shocked by the spider crawling on her face and lost control of her car," said the spokesman for the police in the small town near the Dutch border. The spider survived, he said. "He crawled out of the window."

The Aristocrats." Oh my.

For those of you unfamiliar with "The Aristocrats" -- not to be confused with "The Aristocats," a fine, family-friendly film -- it's a documentary created by comedians Paul Provenza and Penn Jillette (of Penn & Teller) in which more than 100 comedians explore a joke that, until now, was told only to other comedians.

The basic premise of the joke is this: A guy walks into an agent's office and says, "Have I got a family act for you." Then the whole middle of the joke is improvised by the comedian, in which he/she tries to come up with a "family act" that will be more shocking and disgusting than any of the other comedians' -- everything from people swimming in each other's feces and vomit, to incest and rape -- you know, all the fun things in life. Then the punchline of the joke is: The agent asks, "What's the name of this act?" And the guy says, "The Aristocrats!"

Get it? Get it? Yeah, neither did I. As jokes go, it's pretty lame. I read about it and thought, how funny can this movie be?

Well, it was easily the most vulgar, disgusting, obscene movie I've ever seen. It was also one of the funniest. Maybe it's just me, but hearing Bob Saget riff on the pleasures of screwing someone's eye socket ... that's comedy, people. I don't know if that indicates there's something seriously wrong with me, but I could not stop laughing. Indeed, I'm going to have to watch the movie a second time to get the parts I missed because I was laughing too much.

Does that scare me a little? Yes. Will I watch it again anyway? Yes. Will I let me 7-year-old niece watch it? Hell to the no!

Say cheese ... pizza.

Today was Sarah's last night hanging out with us in L.I., so we took her out for pizza. Good luck with everything, Sarah. We'll miss having you around! Although the microzooplankton will probably be happy to see you go...

My new favorite song: “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt.

Never heard of this guy before, but now I’ve got to run out and buy his album (or at least download the single onto my iPod).

If you haven’t heard it, you have to listen to it. Have to. His voice is less than perfect, but he sings with such feeling and longing that it actually makes the song better. Think: Joe Cocker, but younger and less spastic.

"And for my first act as president, a constitutional amendment for ... more cowbell!"

http://walken2008.com

Spain, Summer 2005

Finally, here's a link to the Spain 2005 summer photos. To view, click here. Sorry about the poor quality. Next year, with my brand-new Kodak digital camera, I'll be able to take more and better pics.

I just discovered Jack radio (here in NY, it’s on WCBS 101.1).

Man, this s*** is bananas. It’s like an iPod Shuffle, but better, because there are songs you might want to hear once, but don’t necessarily want to buy.

For example, I purchased “Come on Eileen” -- it’s one of those fun songs that bring back good memories. But there’s a reason it’s not played often anymore, and that’s because it’s annoying after hearing it more than, oh, say, 200 times. Now I find myself skipping it most of the time, and wishing I had that $.99 back to purchase something else.

That’s the good think about Jack -- you get to hear songs you haven’t heard in a while, but you don’t hear them so often you get sick of them.

Another great thing about Jack radio is the variety of music they play. It’s like a radio station with multiple personalities. And it’s wonderful.

I, and most people I know, have varying tastes in music. I like rap, pop, country, alternative, Latin -- pretty much anything but really heavy metal. This morning, Jack’s songs included:

Young MC, “Bust a Move”
Scorpions, “No One Like You”
Chumbawumba, “Tubthumping”
Bruce Springsteen, “Glory Days”
Maroon 5, “Sunday Morning”
AC/DC, “Back in Black”
James Brown, “Super Bad”
Alanis Morissette, “You Oughta Know”
Green Day, “Longview”
U2, “Pride (In the Name of Love)”

So you get a little taste of all these different types of music, and you never get bored. I mean, I’m not going to buy Rockwell’s “Somebody’s Watching Me,” but it’s cool to hear it again … once.

I didn't even realize I knew an R.G.D., but how does he know so much about me?!?

Beans
By R.G.D.

Maria Diarrhea
Had it awfully bad
She never left the house
And was terribly sad

Her mother said it was
The germs on her plate
Her brother said it was
The monkey brains she ate

Her father said “It’s a stage
It will pass”
Her sister gagged and said
She had the stinkiest gas

Maria Diarrhea
Did not want to be rude
But all along she knew
It was because of
That magical food.

The Top 10 Reasons I Wish Summer Were Over:

10. It’s 80° at 6 a.m.
9. Pasty skin = no tan lines
8. Fall fashions … time to shop!
7. No more landscaping fees -- more money for shopping
6. Only three months ‘til Christmas
5. I’m not in Spain, so what’s the point?
4. Lots of upcoming holidays
3. Less-frequent waxing
2. My no-TV-during-summer rule

And the No. 1 reason I wish summer were over…

1. Mosquitoes and spiders and flies, oh my!

This guy's got a whole lot of 'splainin to do...

ROME (Reuters) – A Macedonian man left his wife at an Italian service station and only realized he had driven off without her six hours later.

The couple, who were traveling with their 4-year-old daughter, pulled over for gas in the coastal city of Pesaro as they were heading back to their home in Germany.

After filling the tank, the husband drove away – without noticing that his 30-year-old wife had gotten out of the car to go to the toilet.

The woman, who had no money or documents with her, contacted the police, who eventually traced her husband to Milan, some 210 miles north of Pesaro.

The husband told police he hadn’t missed his wife because she always sat in the back of the car with their daughter.

Sweetbreads: neither sweet nor bread.

Discuss.

Am I the only one who wishes Harry Potter were real so I could adopt him?

Yes? Okay then.

Maybe my expectations were too high, but I didn't find "Wedding Crashers" to be "the funniest movie I've ever seen."

That's no to say it wasn't funny -- it was. Watching Vince Vaughn (now an established Long Islander, I pronounce his last name "vaw-on") deliver his lines in a way that would make Jeff Goldblum green with envy was the most enjoyable film experience in quite a while. And Owen Wilson, mugging in his I'm-so-ugly-I'm-cute way, was endearing. But I can count on one hand the number of times I actually guffawed.

The funniest part of the movie for me was the moment when, during a quiet moment in the movie, my sister let out a loud-ass belch. I laughed harder at that than I did at the movie.

I recommend the movie -- as much as I do any movie featuring any member of the "Frat Pack" -- but you can definitely wait for the DVD.

"Wedding Crashers": B+
Laura's burp: A++

Today is my birthday. I won't reveal which one.

Aging sucks. Of course, the alternative is worse, so I can't really complain all that much.

You know what I hate? When people say, "You look great for your age." Ouch! I guess it's nice that they say you look great, but for your age? Why not just "You look great"?

You know what else I hate? Being asked if I'm my 22-year-old sister's mother. Sigh... These are the same people who ask overweight women when the baby is due. Folks, think before you speak, okay? Because I may just snap one day. Seriously.

Well, happy freakin' birthday (ahem, 29, right?) to me.