I don't know what's going on with the photo part of the blog -- I'm having so much trouble. But here's a little preview of what you'll see if you click here:



David: "What? I was just stretching.
It's purely a coincidence that it was
near the presents, I assure you..."

Claudia and David looking as cute as ever.

My favorite part of every dinner: dessert!

So Christmas is done. It's always so anticlimactic, isn't it? You wait weeks and weeks for it and -- Poof! -- it's over in less time than it takes to unwrap that third pack of jumbo socks.

I did great this year -- got lots of stuff from my wish list. As mentioned previously, I got a neat Swiss Army knife, a Rachael Ray cookbook and the Cranium Wow board game. Then, just when I thought it couldn't get better, I got resistance bands (because you know I've just been eating my way through the holidays...), gift cards and a 3-D puzzle. Have you seen these? They're the coolest! It's like a regular puzzle, but 3-D. Ok, duh. I didn't really need to explain that, did I? I think it's all the sugar that's gone to my head...

Anyway, so I had requested the Empire State Building puzzle, which is for beginners. Instead, I got the Capitol Building, which is an advanced puzzle. I always knew my mother secretly hated me... Anyway, I've been trudging away for the past couple of days. I'm not very far into it, but I think I've hit my groove. I'm documenting it in pictures so you can see what I'm up against...

But first, I've got pics of the Christmas Eve extravaganza. I'm having trouble posting them to the blog, so you'll have to click here to see them.

According to Galaxy Quiz's "How Are You Defined in the Dictionary?" quiz:

Maria
[noun]
A person who enjoys the smell of rotten eggs

How did they know? Ahh, I love the smell of rotten eggs in the morning.

Ugh, actually, I can't stand the smell of rotten eggs (who can?), especially of the movie variety. Like "Sweeney Todd," which I went to see this weekend. (Nice segue, huh?)

I love musicals. I love Johnny Depp -- in my opinion, he's one of the best actors of any generation. And while I don't think much of Helena Bonham Carter (though her Bellatrix Lestrange is way scary), I think she's a fine enough actress. But this movie sucked eggs, and rotten eggs at that.

It wasn't the performances -- they were fine. Or the directing -- Tim Burton can't really do much wrong. Or even the visuals -- the costume director deserves an Oscar for her work. But for some reason, it just didn't come together. I think it was the music. The songs are not exactly the kind you find yourself humming on a Sunday morning while cleaning the dust bunnies from the back of the TV stand. They were, how should I put it, "eh."

I dunno, maybe I'm just one of the masses and don't really get the "art" behind the film. But to me, movies should be enjoyable. If I'm going to spend a gazillion dollars at the movie theater, it's got to be something that entertains me. And this didn't.

What did entertain me was a movie I rented, "The Bourne Ultimatum." I wish I'd seen it in the theater (gazillion dollars notwithstanding), as it definitely is the kind of movie that kicks it on the big screen, but it still translated well to TV. Matt Damon is soooo good, and it's refreshing to watch an intelligent action movie that actually has a message. Oh, and Matt Damon is soooo hot.

I also saw the really good "Eastern Promises" with Viggo Mortensen. This is the one where he has a naked fight scene at a bathhouse. Nuff said.

Oh, and I saw "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." (I know, I really caught up on my movie-watching this weekend...) It was a really good adaptation, although now that I know how the series ends, there wasn't the sense of urgency as with previous films. Great special effects, though. Voldemort still scares the bejesus out of me. I can't stand Ralph Fiennes, and this did nothing to help his cause with me.

I was told I absolutely have to rent "Superbad," which I plan on doing this weekend. Unless I miraculously get a life.

And that, my friends, is my movie report. I'll follow up soon with stories/pics from the Christmas festivities.

So how are you defined in the dictionary?

To all my bloggites near and far, I wish you a joyous [insert holiday here] and the healthiest and happiest of new years!

Peace and love,

Maria Diarrhea

Know what I love most about Christmas? If you said "the joy of the season," you don't know me at all. What I love most about Christmas are the presents! (Really, did you expect anything else?)

I've already gotten several. Two were from far-away friends that I visited, so we opened our gifts together, and one was from my Secret Santa at work, so you can't really shame me for opening them. Oh, sure, I could have waited, but why put off until tomorrow what you can do today? (I love it when proverbs turn out to have meanings that actually work for me...)

So my first gift was from Neets, who, among other things, gave me this neat Swiss Army knife:



I can now tweeze my eyebrows, pick my teeth and file my nails all at the same time. See, it's a time-saver! Neets, you're always so efficient ...

Next, my friend Janet got me what I think was a hint:



Way to go, Jazi! And yes, I will make recipe #187.

And last, but not least, my Secret Santa (aka Tasha) got me one of my favorite games of all time:



Ok, so I haven't actually played this one yet -- I'm saving it to play on Christmas day -- but I love all the other Cranium games, and I'm sure this will be no exception.

So far, you guys, the gifts have been spot-on. Great job! You're the best! (Have I flattered you sufficiently? Good. Now keep 'em coming.)

So I am now officially a Garden State resident. I went to the DMV this week to get my new license and plates. Only one problem: My plates start with WMD ... as in, weapons of mass destruction. It wouldn't be too much of a problem if there weren't an anti-Bush bumper sticker directly above it.

I took my niece and nephew to meet Santa yesterday at my church. (See all pics here.)

My nephew, David, kept reminding me that it was Santa, not Santa Claus. See, Santa Claus is the real one, and he's waaaaay too busy. He's got all those toys to make and deliver, all the elves to supervise, the reindeer to feed. He doesn't have time to sit with all the world's little boys and girls. Instead, he sends one of his helpers, who's just named Santa. He covers for Santa Claus when he's too busy. Never, ever call him Santa Claus, because he's not.

Anyway, so they met Santa (not Claus), and David kept telling him to "stooooopppp." When I asked him why he was telling Santa (not Claus) to stop, he said, "He keeps staring at me." He was a little freaked out, and I wonder if he would feel the same way if he thought it was Santa Claus. I'm sure he'd be like, "Yo, Santa Claus, can I get you a soda? Here you go. Hungry? Want a cookie? I just happened to have baked a fresh batch. How about a foot massage? Can I interest you in that? Yes? Great, let me take care of that for you. Oh, by the way, have you seen the new Nintendo DS system..."

I'm back from sunny Florida. And man, am I cold! There's a reason why northerners go south for the winter. Yikes.

So I went to visit my friend Neets:



It was her birthday when I arrived. You know, we were born the same year, but she's five years older than me. I wonder how that happened...



We spent most of the time doing my favorite thing -- shopping. Florida has the best stores. It doesn't hurt that it's always sunny and warm. Nothing like that kind of weather to get the purse strings to loosen...



We also went to the beach, which was so clean and so beautiful:



Oh, and of course we played with her doggie, Pippin. And no, he didn't eat my toes. Good doggie!



Have I teased you sufficiently? Well, then click here to see all the pics. You'll see why I was thisclose to having all my stuff shipped down.

Not sure what to get me for Christmas? I wouldn't turn this down. Or this. Or this or this or this. And especially not this.

You might also find something on my Amazon Wish List.

I'm just sayin'. No pressure. :-)

Woo hoo! Tomorrow I will be in sunny Florida, visiting Neets. We'll be hanging by the pool, drinking margaritas (ok, more like diet soda) and talking about those crazy teenagers on MTV. It'll be just like the Golden Girls. Except that the Golden Girls got some action now and again.

I got her dog, Pippin, a doggy toy in the hopes that he won't chew my toes off. Actually, he's quite a cute doggy, and I know he's not going to eat my toes. I just have this completely irrational fear of walking barefoot around dogs, like they'll go over to my feet and gnaw at my toes. I don't know where the fear came from, but just add it to my list of "quirks." Although last time I visited Neets, I actually did walk around barefoot for just a little ... but then I freaked out and put socks back on. As if he can't bite through the socks, or that he would even do it. Sheesh. I need help, I know.

Anyway, if I'm not too sloshed from all the diet sodas, I'll try to take some pics.

I complain every so often about a range of things -- my boss, my health, my family -- but I have to say, I've truly been blessed in my life.

We're doing a Secret Santa at work, and I had to come up with a list of things I want from my Secret Santa, and you know, I couldn't come up with anything. I have pretty much everything I need and most things I want. Eventually, I was able to put a list together (you can see it here -- hint, hint), but these are just things I'm picking for the sake of picking something.

I have a wonderful family that (most of the time) brings me joy and (almost always) helps when the chips are down. I've got a great job, even if I am less than enamored with it lately. I've got great friends, some of whom even let me vacation at their warm-weather homes (that's a shout out to you, Neets!). I've got my health, which, although spotty this past year, is still a lot better than a lot of people's. All in all, one darn lucky person.

And so I will try to keep this all in mind as I b*tch about the lines at the stores or the annoying Christmas carols that I can't get out of my head (that stupid "Feliz Navidad" -- argh!). Oh, I kinda complained already, didn't I? Oops. My badness.

Just a little something to get you in the holiday spirit:

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1117168433

I'm the one on the left.

Enjoy!

Well, I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I've had better, but hey, there was turkey, yams, veggies and dessert. What more can a girl ask for -- other than not being called a fat-ass by her mother? (Actually, the exact words were "Wow, your butt is getting big!")

Ah, it's been a joy having dear ol' mom around. For the most part, things have been great. Then there are the fat comments. My favorites are the passive-aggressive ones -- you know, the "You shouldn't eat so late at night, it's not good for your 'digestive system'" or "You do love bread, don't you?" comments. Great for the ol' self-esteem.

Now, I know I've gained some weight over the last year. In between health problems and stress, I've packed on a few pounds. I'm not blind. I don't need it pointed out. And hey, if you are going to mention it, can you try to do it nicely, like maybe pretend you're concerned about my health or something, not just call me a glutton? I dunno, maybe be motherly.

But hey, on the upside, I'm going to Florida next week to visit Neets for a few days. Woo hoo! And just think, I'll be able to eat what I want and not worry about it. After all, calories don't count when you're on vacation, right? Um, maybe that's how I got in trouble in the first place. Darn it!

As promised, here's video from the concert. It's not great, since it was pretty dark in there, but the sound is good. Enjoy!

Meet Virginia:



Calling All Angels:



Drops of Jupiter:

Oh my gosh, the Train concert was amazing!

The China Club is a small venue, so it always seems like they're singing right at you. It was great. And I have to say, Pat Monaghan has one of the best male rock voices. He could sing the alphabet and imbue it with such emotion. He's so effing talented. Good thing, too, because the boy ain't exactly a looker. But really, put any guy on stage behind a mike, guitar or drums, and his attractiveness quotient rises immediately. What is it about that?

Anyway, I took some pics, which you can see here. I also took video, but I haven't yet figured out how to put it online. I know, I'm old. But I'm also hard-headed, so I'll work it out.

Well, my mom has arrived. So far, so good ... ask me again in a week.

I've got the Train concert tonight. Woo hoo! I'm excited to just have something to do. I'll try to upload the pics tomorrow, but it might not be after Thanksgiving.

Speaking of ... I hope everyone has a happy Turkey Day!




Save some pie for me! :-)

After the last few months of craziness, I decided to do a little something for myself, so I called my favorite day spa and made an appointment for their fall special: a pumpkin facial, an aromatherapy massage and a pumpkin pedicure.

Oh my goodness, I feel divine. I smell like pumpkin pie. I totally want to lick my own face right now! (Alas, that's a talent I don't possess.)

Not that I needed a big excuse to get pampered. We should all treat ourselves now and then. It's amazing what a difference it makes.

Oh, and get this ... While I was driving to the spa, I called in to win tickets to a private concert with the band Train ("Calling All Angels"), and I won! It's on Nov. 20 at the China Club in NYC. How cool is that? I've already been to two of these things there -- INXS and James Blunt, if you'll remember -- so I know it's a really cool place. And because you have to win tickets, only about 200 people go, so it's a nice cozy affair. I'm so psyched. Admittedly, I don't know much about Train, besides liking a couple of their songs, but it's always fun to go hang out in NYC, and I also qualify to meet the band before the show. That's a long shot, but it's worth a try.

Anyway, I'm off to grab some lunch. Don't worry, my face is not in danger. :-P

So our office building is holding an exhibition to draw attention to the fight against hunger. They had local businesses build exhibits using canned goods. I tell you, it's pretty amazing what they can make out of just cans. I took some pics -- hope you enjoy.

A slice of pizza. Yum:



I love this one -- the Easter Island statue:



You know what's sad? I knew what that was even before I saw the sign, but only because I saw "Night at the Museum." Oh, pop culture, you teach me so.

This tractor must have taken a ton of work. It is too cool:



But this one is my hands-down favorite:



Big Bird! I love Big Bird! Who doesn't love Big Bird? Crazy people, that's who.

You know what they made his feathers out of? Anchovy cans. How friggin' cool is that? These folks are talented.

This last pic I just found too cute:



Under Canstruction! Aw, come on, you can't not like that.

Well, I hope these pics brought a smile to your day. And when you think you can't do something, remember ... you CAN! (Groan ... that was bad, even for me ... Sorry.)

I'm baaaaack.

Wow, it's been a loooong time since I posted. Most of the craziness has cleared, so I should be back on track soon. Let me give you some updates:

I rented out my house on Long Island, so that frees me up to actually have a life here in New Jersey, since I won't have to travel back and forth all the time. I also finished school, for this semester anyway. I think I did pretty well in the class, but I'll have to wait a couple of weeks for the official grade. Thanks to everyone who added their comments to the blog.

Oh, and about my hand. Well, now the diagnosis of Trigger Finger is up for debate. I have to get an MRI in a couple of weeks, and that should reveal what's really going on there. In addition to the problem with my index finger, there's now some sort of "growth" on the bone on my left thumb, making it extremely painful to do, well, pretty much anything.

But hey, let's not dwell on the negative, right? Things are looking up. My mom's coming for a visit in a couple of weeks (I think that's a good thing, but ask me if I feel the same way next month...). I've also decided to jump back into the dating pool, maybe even trying out speed-dating. What have I got to lose, except my life? (Yes, I watch way too much CSI and Law & Order ... I know what happens to single women ... oh, wait, I'm supposed to be focusing on the positive...)

Anyway, so I'm back. That's a good thing, right? Right?!?

So for my class' final project, I'm creating a blog on international business communications. I only have one post up as of now, but I plan to post one every 1-2 days, until the project is due.

I'd like to make the blog as real-world as possible, so I'm asking everyone to visit the blog regularly over the next three weeks and leave comments as if you were a regular reader. (And please keep in mind that my professor will be reading the comments...)

Here's the URL: http://crossborderproject07.blogspot.com

Thanks!

So, I know I haven't posted much recently. You ever have one of those days where everything seems to be crashing down on you, like you can't seem to catch your breath or a break?

Well, I'm having one of those months. I'm just completely overwhelmed with life. Work is crazy. School is stressful. And I can't even go home and decompress because there's too much to do and no one to help me do it. (Don't even get me started...)

Oh, and I finally decided to take the house off the selling block and am renting it. So now I'm moving all my stuff into storage. Moving -- it's so much fun, isn't it?

I'm really looking forward to Nov. 4. That's the day school's over, and I'll be done moving, and things will start slowing down at work. I'm totally going to schedule a spa package for that weekend.

Anyway, sorry to be a Debbie Downer. Onward and upward, my friends. I'll be back to posting silly stuff soon...

So I talked to my mom today, and she's planning on visiting for the holidays, which is great news. However, she plans on coming for four months ... yes, you read that right -- four months. November to February ("or March," she said, but I'm in denial about that).

Now, you know I love my mom to bits. She's my buddy, my pal. I actually do enjoy spending time with her. But I've also really gotten used to her not being here on a regular basis and, well, it's been kinda nice.

Plus, she and my sister do not get along at all. They're constantly at each other's throats, and I'm inevitably caught in the middle. Frankly, I don't wanna deal with it.

It's gonna be a looooong winter ...

Ok, I've got a hand update.

Turns out, my hand problem has a name: Trigger Finger, a condition in which one of your fingers catches in a bent position. If it's severe (that's me -- severe), your finger may become locked in a bent position.

Sounds like fun, eh?

Who even knew it existed? And how cool is that name? I mean, it's much better than Nintendo Finger, which is what I would have gone with. Trigger Finger -- it just sounds so ... tough. Makes it sound like I actually do something other than sit on the couch and post on this blog.

Anyhoo, I went to the surgeon, who wanted to try cortisone shots before opting for surgery, which is really the last resort. Frankly, I'd rather have surgery. Have you ever had a cortisone shot?!? Holy canoli, that sucker is painful. The doctor gave me two in my hand. I cried, I screamed, I almost passed out.

I'm supposed to go back in a month to see if I need more shots. Frankly, I don't think I could go through that again -- I really don't.

Oh, and I've also been getting shots in my right foot, thanks to a pinched nerve. But at least that doctor is cute. And I think he's single. Humuna humuna. It might all be worth it, folks.

I'm falling apart, piece by piece...

So I started school this weekend. I don't know what possessed me to think I could handle going to school again. What was I smoking?

It's a really interesting course, and I've already learned a bit, but I'm not as young as I used to be, you know? Where, exactly, am I supposed to find the time -- and energy -- to do all this research and write all these papers? I mean, what do they think it is, a blog? Pshaw.

Anyway, I didn't do anything to embarrass myself ... yet. But have faith. Maria Diarrhea will come through. Give it some time. :-)

Hey, it's Singles Week! Get down with your bad self.

In honor, here are the "The 10 Best Things About Being Single" (Yahoo! News):

1. You can make last-minute plans with your friends and stay out all night if you want.

2. You can lie on both sides of your bed and have all the covers to yourself.

3. You can flirt with the opposite sex without someone saying, "Who are you looking at? Who are you looking at?"

4. You can make your own decisions.

5. You don't have to remember your significant other's birthday or anniversary.

6. You have no one to clean up after.

7. You can leave the toilet seat permanently up if you're a man, or permanently down if you're a woman.

8. You can make a list of things you always wanted to do ... and actually do them.

9. You can listen to your favorite radio station in the car.

10. You can actually hold on to the remote control.

And to that I add:

No in-laws!

So I have a new boss, which, to my surprise and delight, is actually turning out to be quite nice. She's got some good ideas, and she's been very nice to me, letting me leave early if I have stuff to take care of and even letting me work from home if I have a doctor appointment.

Which isn't to say I enjoy working from home. Let me tell you, if I worked from home full-time, I'd be 700 pounds! I have absolutely no self-control. I've come to terms with that. I admit it. I embrace it.

I tell ya, I spent the whole day eating. Ok, I did a little work, but that was only to fill the time between meals. I don't know how people do it. I would spend my whole paycheck just on food, I know it.

And yes, I know I can just not have junk food in the house, but I live two blocks from a deli in either direction, and there are pizzerias and Chinese take-outs galore in my area. And I don't even like Chinese food! That's sad, when you eat food you don't like just because it's there. The only way I could prevent gaining weight would be to move to a neighborhood that had only mushroom shops in the area. Gross.

It's not often that one gets duped by a 5-year-old, but ...

Right before I went to Spain, my nephew asked me if I'd buy him blue Power Ranger gloves. Since he already had two pairs, in red and green, to be exact, I told him no. A few days later, he told me he lost them, and now would I buy it for him. I knew I was totally being suckered, but he's just so cute ...

Anyway, so I told him I'd take him to buy them, but that he'd have to pay for them. I told him they cost $10, which he said he had, and he said okay. His mom called me and told me he didn't have $10; he had 10 coins. Seeing as how the kid's only 5, and again, he's so darn cute, I decided to forego the lesson this time and buy the kid the darn gloves. The only catch was that he had to give me his 10 coins. (Now, don't call me a scrooge -- it's his parents' rules ...)

So I take him to the store, and we get the gloves. When we get back home, he gave me the 10 coins and says, "We're good now, right?" Yes, David, we're good. "I don't owe you anything, right?" Right, we're all set. "Yay! I get to keep my dollars!"

That's right. He had dollars the whole time. He was totally playing into my aw-shucks-isn't-he-so-cute-he-doesn't-know-anything-about-money naivete. Man, I got suckered. He's lucky he looks like this:



You can see it in his eyes, can't you? :-)

Ok, so about my finger ...

Around three months ago (I know, I know), I woke up with a slightly swollen left index finger. I figured it was just a mosquito bite or something, and let it go. Then it got worse (more swollen), then it got better, then it got worse, then it got better, and then it got worse. For the last six weeks or so, my finger is swollen to about twice its size, is bent at the knuckle, and I'm mostly unable to move or straighten it.

So finally I go to the doctor. Turns out, I snapped the tendon that runs from the finger all the way up the arm. Yikes! And ouch! So I have to go talk to a hand surgeon, so he can do more accurate testing and decide the next step.

Of course, I'm not looking forward to surgery, but I gotta do something. It's taken me about twice as long as it normally does just to type this up, since I can't use the finger. (I can, though, still give you the finger, so be nice.)

I've even put off posting this because it would involve typing. And you know anything that keeps me away from this blog is a bad, bad thing. People count on this blog! They want to hear my opinion on things! They want to know what's going on in my life! And silver unicorns are currently planting chocolate trees in my yard!

Anyway, so that's the story with my finger. I'll let you know what ultimately happens.

Ooh, I do have some good news, though: I start school again next weekend. Yes, I said weekend. I'm going back to finish my master's in strategic communications at Seton Hall. I've decided to take a weekend class, which is three full weekends, Saturday-Sunday, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. I don't mind giving up three weekends to get the class over with, though -- I've still got about 63 years before I finish, I'm sure.

But anyway, this class is on international communications, so it should be interesting. And just think, I can make a fool of myself in front of a completely new audience. Yay! And I'll be sure to tell you all about it. Double Yay!

The pics are in!

Click here to see photos from my Spain vacation.

I'll have more pics as soon as my sister -- the one who got stuck in the bathroom ... hahahahahahahaha (sorry, Laura ... I should be over this soon!) -- downloads them. She's got the pics of my grandma.

Enjoy!

I'm baaaack.

I had a great time in Spain. It was one of the most relaxing vacations I've had in a long time. I didn't have to work at all, which was a new treat. Total vacay, from beginning to end. I slept a lot, ate way too much, and even got a few days of shopping and eating in. All in all, not too shabby.

I'll have pics soon, but I do have one story to tell. (Sorry, Laura!)

My grandma's house has two bathrooms -- one inside the house, and one in the back house (where she stores her potatoes, veggies and other stuff she gets from her garden). I was taking a nap one afternoon, and I hear my sister, Laura, scream:

Laura: Moooooooommmmmm!
Mom: What?
Laura: I'm locked in the bathroom!
Mom: What?
Laura: I'm locked in the bathroom!
Mom: How'd you get locked in the bathroom?
Laura: I don't know! Just get me out!
Mom: Why'd you lock the door?
Laura: I don't know! I just did! Help me!
Mom: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Me: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Grandma: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Claudia: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Laura: I can hear you laughing ...
Mom: Why don't you unlock the door?
Laura: Duh. Because it's stuck!
Mom: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Me: Hahahahahahahahahaha.
Grandma ... oh, you get the picture.

So my mom asks my sister to pass the key under the door, and tries in vein to unlock it. After a few minutes of trying, she decides to try to take the handle off the door. She gets a screwdriver and takes her side off, then passes the screwdriver to my sister via the small window and tells her to unscrew the handle off her side, which she does. No luck. (I won't mention that even without the handle, the door's still locked!)

After laughing for a few more minutes, my mom decides to call my godfather in the next town down to come help. While we're waiting (and laughing some more), my sister says, "Come on ... there are spiders in here." That's when I jumped into action. I took the key, somehow unlocked the door, screwed back the handle and saved my sister from the aforementioned spiders ... though it was too late to save her from her embarrassment, as my godfather and his son were already aware and, I'm sure, were telling the whole story to their entire town. Given everyone in our area is related, you can imagine how much fun this whole thing was for Laura.

Good times.

Anyways, I should have the pics uploaded by the end of the week. I even have a nice one of my non-working finger, splint and all. I'll save that story for my next posting...

Ok, one more before I go on vacation:

Every teen girl should be shown this Web site: www.iwanexstudio.com. Heck, every adult woman, too, as the number of eating disorders among that group continue to rise.

To view the before and after PhotoShopped pics of celebs, click on Portfolio, then one one the celebs at the bottom. When the box for that celeb pops up, you can move your mouse in and out of the box to see the before and after pics. Click on the box again to close it.

My personal fave is Beyonce. I love how they totally removed the fat roll at her waist and thinned her calf.

I wish I could walk around all PhotoShopped every day ...

Only four more days until my Spain vacation!

I'm most looking forward to seeing my grandma. I miss her. And she says she misses me, though I suspect it's really the pastries I buy that she misses. That's ok, I'll take what I can get.

Since I'll be getting everything ready over the next few days, I probably won't have much time to blog. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll have stories and pics for you when I get back (Labor Day).

Enjoy the rest of your August! :-)

Well, I had a busy birthday weekend, full of lots of fun stuff (and presents, to boot!)

On Saturday, I went to Atlantic City with my colleague Heather. As you can see, I got a little "wasted." Ha ha. Get it? Wasted. Garbage. Ha. Er...



Anyway, neither of us won anything, but it was fun anyway. Especially the part where we ate at the casino buffet. Although I was good -- I only had six desserts:



Ok, I didn't have all of them ... just three. See more pics here.

Then, for my surprise on Sunday, my family took me to Medieval Times! I know! It sounds totally cheesy but was so much fun. Now, if you've never been to MT, you should totally go at least once. It's really neat. You get to eat with your hands, call your waitress "wench," and go gaga over the hot looking dudes with the swords. Ok, they're probably not real swords, but a girl can daydream, can't she? It was my birthday. I was entitled.

The king even wished me a happy birthday. Okay, so he got my name wrong -- maybe Ana is what they called Marias in Medieval times -- but he got my age ("not very old") right. You'll see what I mean here.

All in all, this was one of the best birthdays. Of course, I can't remember most of them, but this one was definitely up there. I think.

I've got one busy birthday weekend ahead of me.

I took Friday off, to treat myself to a massage and facial. It's my way of saying happy birthday to me. Then Saturday, a co-worker and I are going to Atlantic City. Woo hoo. Wish us luck. Or just me. Wish me luck. I promise to share. :-)

I don't know what I'll be doing on Sunday, my actual birthday, but my sister-in-law said we'll do "something fun." Hm, I'm a little scared, actually...

I'll be sure to blog all about it on Monday, with pics, if possible. And hey, you'll be able to see my cute new haircut. At least I think it's cute. It might look awful. What do I know?

Have a great weekend!

It's my birthday in a few days. That's right, I'm turning the big 3-0. Ok, that's a lie. I'm just a teensy bit older than that. Fine, I'll cop to it ... I'm turning 37.

I know they say that age is just a number, and that you're only as old as you feel (which I hope isn't true, because I feel about 80!), but I'm having trouble with this one. For those of you who are older, I know you're probably thinking you'd give your left teat to be 37 again. But this is the oldest I've ever been, so forgive me my pity party.

Ugh, I do feel quite old. And now that my mom's moved to Spain, I feel even older. My sister's only 24, so you can imagine how that is. If I get asked "Are you her mom?" one more time ...

Anyway, I'm easy to shop for, so don't worry about what to get me. Just make it sparkly and you'll be fine. :-)

Really interesting article:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20010696/site/newsweek/

I haven't heard this angle before.

Unfortunately, the video has been removed from YouTube. I wonder why. I would have loved to see it ...

Well, I finished Harry. I won't give anything away, don't worry. Let me just say that it was a masterpiece, the best in the series, and that's saying.

If you've read it, drop me a note via e-mail, so as not to ruin it for anyone who hasn't finished it yet.

I don't know what I'll do now that the series is over. Oh, sure, I can find another book to read, but it won't be the same. Harry, I'll miss you -- the book, not Harry. I'm not saying Harry dies, or that he doesn't. I'm not saying anything. :-)

I'm about a third of the way into the new "Harry Potter" book. Don't worry -- I'm not going to say a word about it.

But with all the media storm surrounding the new book, I'm torn. On one hand, I want to read it as slowly as possible, and savor all the fine details. On the other hand, I want to read it as quickly as possible so as not to come across something that inadvertently -- or inadvertently on purpose -- gives anything away. What to do?

I've taken the day off tomorrow so I can dedicate my day to reading the book. Crazy, I know, but it's the only compromise I could think of. This way, I can take my time reading it, but I don't have to worry about spoilers.

So if you call or e-mail me tomorrow, know that I won't get back to you until I've finished my Harry-time. Not that I don't trust you...

On a semi-related note, RFSJ turned me onto a quiz to determine who your HP alter ego is. I was certain I'd be Hermione, but I turned out to be Remus Lupin, the werewolf, instead. Figures. I do tend to be a bit hairy. Check out the quiz here and tell me who your HP alter ego is. Just know that if it's Snape, well, I can't be your friend anymore. :-)

I'm back from DC. I didn't get arrested, but I did manage to wipe myself out. Neets and I went everywhere -- on foot. I will be paying for this for days...

DC is a small-ish area, when compared to cities like New York or San Francisco, but there's a heck of a lot to see. And we saw nearly all of it. Oh, did we.



On Friday night, we went to see the White House (just from the outside, don't worry), the Lincoln Memorial, Korean War Veterans Memorial, Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall, and the Washington Monument, which looks like one ginormous phallic symbol.



In fact, Neets and I kept referring to it as the GP, or "giant penis." In one view, actually, you'll notice the Capitol Dome to one side. All it needed was another round building on the other side ... oh, nevermind. I have a dirty mind.



Anyway, on Saturday, we went to the Holocaust Museum, which was heartbreaking. The things we humans do to each other. The evil is unimaginable. Looking back, I would have skipped that museum, although I do believe we owe it to those who died to acknowledge what happened there. But it's terribly heartbreaking.



After that, we needed to lighten things up a bit, so we went to the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum. That was totally cool. In addition to having all manner of rocketships and planes and whatnot, it was also the temporary home of some of the exhibits from the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, which is closed for renovations. We saw Dorothy's red shoes from "The Wizard of Oz," Mister Rogers' sweater, John McClain's wife-beater from "Die Hard" and a whole host of other neat stuff -- oh, and Kermit! We saw Kermit! So adorable.

I've got tons of pics -- 85 of them. It's a lot to go through, I know, but if you want to get a sense of what DC's like, you can find them here.

So I'm off to our nation's capital this weekend. Pray I don't run into Dubya, because I really have no desire to spend the weekend in jail.

My friend Neets will be there, too. We plan on hitting the Holocaust Museum, the International Spy Museum (how cool will that be?!) and the Air & Space Museum. We also plan on making out with a couple of senators. But not Republicans. There are still some lines I draw.

Anyway, you know I'll blog about it upon my return. And hopefully I'll have some pics, too. I don't know if I can take a lot of pics, due to security issues, but I'll try. And hey, if I do get arrested, I can count on y'all to come bail me out, right? :-)

Well, I didn't do anything stupid (yet), but I do have some good news: I got the all clear!

I'm one of the 6 percent for which the cancer did not recur. Now I just have to get tested again in two years, and then I'm in the clear.

Thanks again to all of you for all your kind notes. It's been a rough few days, but now I can go back to being the same, crazy ol' Maria Diarrhea. :-)

Thanks soooo much to everyone for your kind comments and e-mails. I'm doing great. I had a couple of days of nonstop nausea, but I'm feeling back to normal now. (Well, as normal as I ever was, anyway.) Hey, at least now I might finally lose some weight!

Tomorrow's the last day. I get the actual test and then I'm sent home. If they find any leftover tissue, all they have to do is give me a radiation pill and that's it. Zippo. Done. Granted, I shouldn't have any human contact for a day or so, since I'll be radioactive, but really, it's not like anyone ever wants to hang out with me anyway, so no big loss there. LOL. Hey, why aren't you laughing? That was a joke. I mean, people want to hang out with me all the time. Right? Right?!?

Anyway, thanks again. It really does mean a lot. And I promise that, as of next week, I'll go back to posting fun stuff. I'll make sure to do something stupid soon, don't worry. :-)

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer -- which, if you've gotta have cancer, is the one you wanna go with. It's slow-moving and highly treatable. If you catch it early enough, they just remove your thyroid, and you take a pill every morning for the rest of your life. Mine was caught early enough, and I had my thyroid (and a couple of lymph nodes) removed. I was given the all-clear two years ago.

A bit prematurely, it turns out.

You see, my doctor -- who must have gotten his degree at Wal-M*rt University -- "forgot" (his actual words) to actually run the necessary tests to ensure it didn't spread. Instead, he just did what all great doctors do: he assumed. Nice, eh?

So here I am, eight years later, and I have to get tested for what I should have been tested years ago. But I'm doing it with a new doctor, one that actually seems to have a clue.

This week, I'm getting a Total Body Scan. From what I understand, it's pretty much like an MRI. It's just a giant X-ray that checks to see if any of the cancerous tissue remains. It's a four-day process, which is a pain, but I guess not as much of a pain as having cancer, so I really shouldn't be complaining.

Today, Day 1, I got a thyrogen injection. Previously, if I wanted to get the TBS, I would have to go off my medication for two weeks. Seeing as how the medication takes the place of the thyroid function, this would, effectively, put me in a coma. Not good. But through the miracle of modern medicine, thyrogen "tricks" my body into thinking I've been off the medication, without me actually having to. Now that's good.

Tomorrow, I have to get another injection, after which I have to get blood drawn. Then Wednesday, I have to go to the hospital to take a radioactive iodine pill (which would probably prevent me from blogging, lest I throw the computer into a radiation tailspin). Then, on Thursday, I get the actual TBS. I think they tell me the results that same day. What a novel idea.

The doctor told me I could experience headaches and nausea these next couple of days, two side effects of the thyrogen. Of course, me being me, I'm not nauseous -- I'm hungry. That's a big surprise. Is there anything that would make me not be hungry?

Anyhoo, I'll let y'all know how it goes. If you have a chance, and wouldn't mind, please say a little prayer. Oh, and while you're at it, if you ask for me to win the lottery, I promise to share. :-)

With Independence Day (the day, not the movie) upon us, it made me think back to when I became an American citizen. I went with my dad, whose grasp of the English language was, to put it nicely, a little shaky. Sadly, he did better on the test than I did. And I was in college at this point!

Thank goodness for the guy who gave me the test. He totally gave me the answers. How many Supreme Court justices are there? I dunno ... 7? No? Um, how about 15? No? Doh!

I wonder how many "Americans" could pass the test. I say that if you're going to complain about immigrants in this country, you should be forced to take the test. No passy, no bitchy.

How would you do? Give it a shot: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19552808/

It's harder than it looks! :-)

In my recent posting about my decision to consider adopting a child, I wrote that I have no desire whatsoever to be pregnant or give birth.

Well, I'll tell you what. If I were on the fence about it, "Knocked Up" would have kicked that urge right out of me.

Holy mother of God. Why would anyone subject themselves to that?!?

Ok, yes, I know, it's a beautiful thing, it's all worth it, yada yada yada. But it hurts! A lot! Why do you think they invented epidurals? Not because labor is a walk in the park, folks. And heck, if the painkiller hurts that much, how much must the thing the painkiller is supposed to help with hurt? Sheesh.

And people do this more than once?

They say tattoos are the same way, too. Now that I get. I want another one, like, right now. But I didn't need a freakin' epidural to get my tattoo.

Listen, all you women who have more than one kid, please tell me how you did it, because I can't even imagine going through it once. I know the end result is worth it, but seriously, mucus plugs? bloody shows? I can barely even stand to write that.

You know what, don't tell me. You keep those details between you and your ob/gyn, and I vow to never ever complain about a stupid headache again. Deal? :-)

I've tried not to get into politics on this blog, because I truly believe everyone is entitled to their opinion, even if it is wrong. ;-)

But I just have to say this one thing, and then I'll drop it:

I hate this administration. I hate this administration. I hate this administration.

I. Hate. This. Administration.

Hate. Hate. Hate. Administration. Administration. Administration. I. I. I.

Yo ódio esta administración.

La ódio.

Yo.

Eo ódio ista administração.

I hate this administration.

Going to a Fourth of July BBQ and need something yummy to bring? Trust me when I say you can't go wrong with my Corn & Black Bean Salsa.

Because it's a cold dish, it's perfect with BBQ'd food, and it's really easy to make in the summer months. I've made it a couple of times for work, and everyone raved about it.

Now, it has cilantro in it, which is an acquired taste, but I have to tell you, even though I'm not a fan of cilantro, it just goes perfectly with the dish. I've tried to make it without cilantro and it's just not the same. So trust me, use the cilantro it calls for. You can try half if you want, just don't go without it completely.

You can also check out the My Favorite Recipes link on the right, to see my other fave dishes. And hey, you know they're easy, because I'm making them. :-)

For the last couple of weeks, I've had this crazy desire to have a baby. I know! Insane, huh? I've never been the one who wants or needs to be a mom. Even as my friends around me were having babies, I was thanking my lucky stars I could wake up late on weekends, or didn't have to worry about paying for someone else's college education. My plan has always been to retire at 55 and enjoy the rest of my life, dammit.

But now ... well, I just don't know if it's the clock ticking or what, but I can actually see myself having a kid. Heck, I'm up early on weekends anyway. And it's not like I go out and party. And I love, love, love my niece and nephew more than I could ever imagine loving another human being. Granted, I also really enjoy when their parents come to pick them up and take them home, but hey, I didn't say I was perfect.

But there's this part of me that feels like, by wanting kids, I'm turning into a cliche -- you know, the independent woman who realizes too late that she wasn't truly fulfilled until she became a mom. There's a part of me that says "Yes, I do want to be a mom," but then the other part gives her the smackdown. "Come on," she says, "You're just buying into the ideal! You just think you want to be a mom because that's what everyone's telling you that's what you want. Wake up and smell the dirty diapers!" It's so confusing...

Here's the thing, though: I definitely, without a doubt, absolutely, positively do not want to be pregnant. I've heard it really hurts. I don't like pain. No, thanks. I've thought about adopting, but it's really expensive, and I'm sure the single-parent thing would work against me. If there were a pregnant teenager that wanted to give her baby up, I'd totally take it, but really, this is 2007, so that's not likely to happen.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just being hormonal. I mean, who am I kidding? I would make a crappy mom. "Not now, kid. I'm watching CSI!" Then again, I'd be a lot better than some of the moms out there. See why I'm confused?

Man, I totally wish I were rich so I could adopt a baby and hire a nanny to take care of it for most of the day, and then just trot it out when it was convenient for me. That would be awesome ... well, except for the baby. I'm sure it would suck for the baby. Ok, scratch that.

OMG, guys, I totally knew that was a bad thing. Maybe I wouldn't make such a bad mom after all!

So last night was the Project A.L.S. fundraising dinner. Thanks to my friend Diego's generosity, I was able to schmooze with some of the celebs in attendance.

Of course, as should be expected, I totally made a fool of myself. Don't believe me? Ask Diego: "You totally made a fool of yourself." (Ok, so he didn't actually say this, but I know he's thinking it ...)

We were there for about an hour, and it was totally boring so we decided to skedaddle and grab some grub at a Thai restaurant. (It was my first time eating Thai; it was good.) Anyway, so we were on our way out when we stopped by the press area so Diego could say hello to one of the actresses, whom he happened to know. While in the press area, I turn and see a tiny little woman standing next to me. So I say, "Hi." Then I realize it's Rachel Dratch. "RACHEL DRATCH! Oh my god. Diego, it's RACHEL DRATCH! I'm such a big fan. I've seen everything you've done, like 'King of Queens' and ... [dead silence] ... um, so, do you want to take a picture of me?" Sigh. Diego came to my rescue: "How about I take a picture of the two of you?" Thank goodness for Diego. I'm such a nerd ...

... which, if it weren't apparent already, will be shortly. You see, after I took the picture with Rachel Dratch, I see Aasif Mandvi, whom I love from "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart." I TiVo the show every night, so I see him on it all the time. I think he's a pisser. Anyway, I see him walking towards us, so I go, "AASIF MANDVI!" (By the way, their names are in all caps because I couldn't help screaming their names at them, as if they had forgotten who they were ... or were deaf.) "Diego, it's AASIF MANDVI! I'm such a big fan of yours from 'The Daily Show.' I mean, I'm not from 'The Daily Show' -- you are. But you know that. What I mean is I'm a fan of your work from 'The Daily Show.' Yeah, Ok, so, do you want to take a picture of me?" I kid you not. Again, thank goodness for Diego, who quickly corrected me, and Aasif agreed to take the picture. At that moment, though, the camera batteries died. But Aasif was so nice; he told me to replace the batteries (thank goodness I had brought spares) and that he was going to grab a bite to eat, and to call him over when I was ready. And lo and behold, he came over when I called him over. He totally came right over with a mouth full of food and posed for a pic with me. What a nice guy.

Then there was Richard Kind (picture above, with moi), or as I called him, "RICHARD KIND!" You know what's coming next: "Diego, this is RICHARD KIND!" I'm stupid. Thankfully, though, I did not ask Richard Kind to take a picture of me. I got it right. Crisis averted.

So I had gotten a few pictures. My job was done. We could go. As we were walking down the block, I saw "The Daily Show"'s Rob Riggle, on his way to the dinner. Sigh. Do I have to say it? Oh, alright. "ROB RIGGLE!" He smiles, waves, keeps on walking (smart man). I say to Diego, "Oh, I wanted to take a picture with him." Well, I must have been talking quite loudly, because we looked back and saw him walking back our way, ready to pose for a picture. How about that?

I have to tell you, these folks were so super-nice, especially given the fact I acted like a lunatic. I mean, seriously, they could have called the cops on me. I was acting that crazy. Thankfully, they saw me for what I am, just a loser. But I'm a loser with pictures! So click here to show me it was not all in vain.

Well, I've decided to stop blogging for the Huffington Post.

After my latest column, in which I said Isaiah Washington should not have been fired from "Grey's Anatomy" for the use of a gay slur towards a colleague, I got a ton of comments, some of which were hurtful -- which is somewhat ironic, given the nature of the column. I decided I just don't have it in me. Apparently, my ego is more fragile than I had original anticipated.

Anyway, it was fun while it lasted. And I learned something new about myself: I don't take criticism well. You probably already knew that, though. :-)

Oh, but look at the bright side. That just means more time for me to blog here. See, there's a silver lining after all.

David graduated pre-K today. Awwwwww. What a proud auntie I am.

And yes, I know I've had a bunch of kid stuff up lately, with birthdays and graduations and all, but it should be done for a while. Now I can get back to living my life ... Oh, who am I kidding? I got nothin'. Oooh, wait, that's not true: On Monday, I'm going to a benefit dinner with a bunch of celebs. Maybe I'll marry one. Maybe. I have to see how I feel that day. Riiiiiiight.

Anyway, until then, entertain yourselves with these pics from the graduation: Ooh, click me! Click me!

Did I not say there would be more cuteness? Claudia celebrated her 9th birthday with a harbor cruise around New York. Lucky kid. All I got were some bellbottoms and a paisley shirt.

To see more pics, click here and here.

My second Huffington Post column is up. Click here to read the brilliance.

David turned 5 yesterday. How cute is this child? Don't you just want to eat him up?

More pics here.

Next week's Claudia's birthday, so get ready for more cuteness.

My first blog post is up at the Huffington Post!

It's a short piece to introduce myself. I have to admit, it is quite a thrill to see my name in print -- or, more accurately, on the screen.

You can read the piece here.

And don't worry, I won't forget you ... right away. :-)

A single male co-worker of mine was wearing what appeared to be a wedding ring, so I asked him if he had gotten married. He replied that he had gotten engaged. When I asked about the ring, he said it was an engagement ring. He had bought his fiancé one, and he thought he should have one, too.

Seriously? It's not enough that men don't have to shave if they don't want to, don't get cramps once a month, don't have to worry about drunk 60-year-old men hitting on them when they're just trying to have a drink with a friend? Now they get a ring, too?

Then again, maybe it's a good thing. You see a ring on a guy's finger, you know he's out of bounds. No time-wasting there. Move along; nothing to see here.

I dunno, though. It still strikes me as sort of odd. There are some things that should just be ours. I still don't like the idea of men getting facials and mani-pedis -- not because it's "feminine," but because guys have it so easy already. Why do they need to relax even more? Come on!

Next thing you know, there will be bridal showers for guys. And we all know how I feel about bridal showers...

I have a confession to make. I've hidden it until now because ... well, you'll know why when you read it.

Sigh. Here I go.

I have a secret crush on Dick Van Dyke.

Aaaaah, I've said it!

I love, love, loooove Dick Van Dyke. I never saw "The Dick Van Dyke Show," at least not during its original run -- I'm not quite that old -- but there was a time that a day wouldn't go by that I wouldn't watch "Diagnosis Murder."

So imagine my delight when I turn on "Night at the Museum" and find that glorious, gray-haired, perpetually lovable face on the screen. It's Dr. Mark Sloan! (And no, not "Grey's Anatomy" man-whore Mark Sloan. He only wishes he was as lovable as the original!)

Well, anyway, I really liked the movie -- it goes on the list as one of my faves. Then again, I can't really be objective about it, can I? My biggest critique with the movie was that there wasn't enough Dick in it. (Get your head out of the gutter.) Ben Stiller is cute and all, and he played his part perfectly, but he's no Dick Van Dyke. Then again, not many men are. In fact, I can only think of one.

Yes, Dick, I'm talking 'bout you. Call me.

I'm baaaaack. Florida was awesome.

Ok, I'll be honest, I've been back for a few days, but it's just been crazy busy and I haven't had a chance to write. And to be even more honest, I don't even really have that much to blog about. I did have a great time in Florida, but it was uneventful ... thankfully! I was really looking forward to just hanging out with my friend Neets, and that's really all we did. Ok, we did squeeze some shopping in ... two days' worth, actually ... but hey, it's me. What'd you expect?

We did also watch a couple of movies. One was "Borat." Oh ... my ... gosh. That movie was hysterical and horrifying all at once. Seriously, there were some scenes we had to watch in fast-forward because we wanted to see what happened but couldn't bear to listen. I would list some specific scenes, but it's pretty much the entire movie. If you saw it, you know exactly what I mean. We also watched "Starsky & Hutch," which I hadn't seen before but Neets had. Pretty funny, in a stupid-funny kind of way. If there's nothing else to rent, go ahead and get this. Do it. Do it.

Oh, and we watched a marathon of "How Clean is Your House?" This is my new favorite show ... ever. Basically, these two British cleaning ladies go to people's houses and clean them. Sounds boring, but it's so great, because a) the houses they go to are completely disgusting, and not just in my OCD opinion -- they really are uninhabitable; b) one of the women, Kim, can't not smell things. I mean, there could be this pillow cover that's covered in an inch-think pile of yellow whatever, and she knows she'll be totally grossed out if she smells it, but she can't not smell it, and so she does, and then we get to view the hysterical facial expressions; c) the other woman, Aggie, does all these neat scientific tests to see how much bacteria there is in the house. She'll swab a surface, and then tell the people living there just why they're always so itchy or why their asthma isn't getting any better. It's totally gross, and totally great; d) their accents. Only the Brits can get away with making insults sounds so nice.

Other than that, we pretty much just sat by the pool and lounged about. It was the perfect, relaxing break. And now back to reality. Sigh.

I know what you're thinking: Who's that foxy lady?

It's me! I figured it was time to update my pic. This one's a bit more recent -- my hair's longer, darker. I'm not quite as tan. I've aged a few years.

So now, when you close your eyes and dream of me, the image will be more accurate. :-)

Big news, big news: I'm going to blog for The Huffington Post! I know!

Beginning the end of May, I'm going to write about pop culture, entertainment and the media. Of course, I won't forget about you guys, my loyal fans. I'll be sure to give you all the URL for the blog once it's up.

Oh, and if you ever have any ideas for posts, please do pass along. I'm sure I'll constantly be on the lookout for stories. So if you see anything in the news that strikes you as odd or curious, or an issue that hasn't been covered to death in other places, drop me a note.

Woo hoo! :-)

I went to a bridal shower yesterday. Ugh. Is there anything worse than a bridal shower? First of all, it puts such pressure on us happy, er, I mean unmarried, gals. Second, it's totally cheesy. And third, it's really just one big gift-giving extravaganza, isn't it?

And you know, I've gone to so many of these over the years -- bridal showers, weddings, baby showers. I've spent so much money on these things, and I'll never get any of that back.

So I've decided that when I turn 40 -- which, is a looong, looong way away, of course (bite that tongue) -- I'm going to have a huge birthday party, and I'm going to register for gifts. And if anyone thinks that's tacky, just consider it my non-wedding wedding, ok? I mean, why should we single gals always be the ones to lose out? Why can't I furnish my home with gifts from others? I would totally love this KitchenAid mixer. Why should I have to spend $50,000 on a wedding to get it?

So keep an eye out for that invitation. And if you're not sure what to give me, remember: cash goes with everything.

I'm soooo moving to Mauritania:

"In Mauritania, to make a girl big and plump, 'gavage' -- a borrowed French word from the practice of fattening of geese for foie gras -- starts early. Obesity has long been the ideal of beauty, signaling a family's wealth in a land repeatedly wracked by drought.

"Many women turn to a more scientific method of weight gain, using foreign-made appetite-inducing pills."

Hah! Amateurs. I don't need no stinking pills. Man, I'd be a queen in Mauritania.

They say abstinence is good for the soul. No, I'm not talking about that kind of abstinence, necessarily, but just abstaining from anything, for a set period of time.

Like giving up chocolate for Lent. It's not easy, but it's satisfying, because it's a challenge, and once it's over and you can finally eat chocolate, it's really, really, really good.

So I've decided that, every month, I'm going to give up something, anything. I've done chocolate, so I won't be going there again. (Plus, it tastes really, really, really good.) I'll probably start with scratch-off lottery tickets next month. Good lord, those things suck me in. It's only $1 here, $2 there, but it quickly adds up to 50 bucks a month, or more, and that money really could be better used in other ways.

I'll still do my annual no-TV-for-summer thing, but I'll need something else. Any ideas? And don't say caffeine ... unless you want some really, really nasty blog postings. :-)

Amy Winehouse.

If you haven't heard of this British singer, do yourself a favor and check her out. My current fave is "Rehab": "They tried to make me to go to rehab, but I said no, no, no."

Ok, so it's not exactly relatable (at least not to me), but once you hear it, you can't get it out of your head. Trust me. Have a listen, and let me know what you think.

I hope everyone had a happy Easter/Passover! I finally had chocolate! And some yummy chocolate, at that. I think I'm going to give up something else next year, like scratch-off tickets. They're so terribly addictive.

Ooh, I saw "Blades of Glory" this weekend. Very funny. I love Will Ferrell in pretty much anything (I'm sure I'm one of three people who thought "A Night at the Roxbury" was freakin' hysterical), so I'm a bit biased, but I did think this was very funny. There are some instant-classic lines here: "I made these leather diaper bags for Faith Hill." WTF?!?

The only thing I wasn't crazy about was the mild homophobia. Pretty much the entire plot was homophobic. But if you can let that go and just run with it, I think you'll enjoy it. But wait for the video. This is definitely one of those movies.

I saw "Casino Royale" this weekend. Wow, what a thrill ride!

From the moment of the first chase, I knew Daniel Craig was a great choice as Bond. Then again, I knew from the moment I saw "Layer Cake," another great Craig movie.

God, he was so good as Bond. (And it didn't hurt that he looked yummy ... way to bulk up your body, Craig.) I totally forgot anyone had embodied that character before. He completely reinvigorated the franchise. Bond really had become a caricature, and Craig embodied him with emotions and a backstory that was believable and even somewhat relatable. And did I mention he was hot?

A big thumbs-up on this one.

Wow, it's been almost two years that I've been writing this blog! Time sure does fly.

I thought it would be neat to update some of the stories I've written. I know you're just itching to know what ever happened with that priest. And how will you ever live without knowing whether I hooked up with J.D. (in my dreams)?

Fear not, friends. All your questions are about to be answered. (And by all, I mean all, because, come on, what else are you thinking about all day if not me?)

The Tale of the Prejudiced Priest: After my response to his letter to the editor, I never heard another peep. My mom told me he was really old and really ill, so it could be he passed away. Either way, our feud is over ... for now.

J.D. and I are over. It was fun while it lasted, but I’ve got a new obsession, er, I mean, interest.

I still have not shopped at Target. Honestly, this boycott lasted waaaay longer than even I thought it would. I’m pretty darn proud of myself. And I’ve saved a ton of money, too, now that I don’t go shopping every weekend.

I've sort of giving up on acting. It’s not like Bayonne is the hub of the acting universe. There’s a class here at night at the local high school, but it sounds like it’s more for teens. I’ll keep looking around, but I think I’m done with this one. I may take up tennis again, though.

My foray into the world of New Jersey professionals was short-lived. Everyone was nice, but the events were pretty far from town, and honestly, I don’t want to try that hard to meet new people. If any more events come to Bayonne, I’ll go, but I’m not going to New Brunswick to feel awkward in front of a group of strangers. I can do that here at home.

I’ve kept half of my New Year’s resolutions. You decide which ones ... shouldn’t be too hard, if you know me at all.

My complaint-free week lasted about three days. I’ve tried to continue it, but it’s just too hard. Who doesn’t ever complain at all, anyway? Not gonna happen, my friends.

My brother’s dog lives.

My mom’s bird lives.

I’m now worth $2.24, thanks to inflation.

And, of course, I’m still watching way too much television.

So that’s it. That’s the scintillating recap. Hope you enjoyed it. I’m off now, to do stuff so I have things to blog about. Ok, we all know that by "stuff" I mean "watch TV," right? Yeah, I thought so. Some things never change.

Ok, so I'm finally getting around to watching movies I've been meaning to see but haven't had time to in the past year or so. I rented two this weekend. The first was "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest." Pure crap. I'm not even going to write any more about it.

I also saw "The Devil Wears Prada." Yes, it's a chick flick, but it's a good chick flick. And Meryl Streep is just amazing, natch. She really makes the movie. Emily Blunt, who plays one of the assistants, is also really good. Very funny. I recommend it. It's not the best movie ever made, but it's not a waste of time (like that pirates movie ... ugh).

I rented two movies this weekend: "The Departed" and "Stranger than Fiction." I highly recommend both movies.

"The Departed," the movie that finally got Scorcese his first Oscar, is an über-violent remake of the Hong Kong thriller "Internal Affairs." The film takes place in Boston, where Frank Costello, an Irish mob boss, implants Colin Sullivan as a mole inside the Massachusetts State Police. At the same time, Officer Billy Costigan has infiltrated Costello's crew. When the two catch wind of the other's involvement, they attempt to discover each other's identities.

Did I mention it was violent? I'm a bit squeamish, so some parts were hard for me to look at -- and, in fact, I did have to look away during some scenes -- but it was totally worth it. The script and acting are top-notch. And I'm glad Scorcese was rewarded for this movie -- he totally deserved it. If you can stomach the violence, do watch it.

"Stranger Than Fiction" is strange indeed. It's about Harold Crick, an IRS agent whose life is transformed when he hears a mysterious voice narrating his life. With the help of a literature professor, Harold discovers he's the main character of a novel-in-progress and that the voice belongs to an eccentric author famous for killing her main characters in creative ways.

And now you're probably thinking, "Huh?" Yeah, that’s about right. It's definitely a quirky movie, but it's thoroughly entertaining, and Will Ferrell really sells it. He's great in his first dramatic role. I totally found him believable. I also thought Maggie Gyllenhall, who plays his love interest, was fantastic. I never really saw her in anything before, and honestly never though that much of her, but she did a great job with this role. Oh, and Emma Thompson is fabulous, as always. If you can let go and just accept the nutty premise, you're sure to enjoy the movie.

I plan on seeing "The 300" this weekend, which looks like it can either be a really, really good movie or a really, really awful movie. I'm sure it's the latter, but as long as it's a good awful movie, I'll be happy.

Well, so much for my complaint-free week. I tried. I really, really tried. And I was good for almost three days! (Which is, what, three weeks in dog years?)

I've been good. There were times -- many, many times -- I had to bite my tongue, but I was good. And I even felt my mood and my entire composure change. No complaining for me, kind sir! I am a ray of sunshine and happiness!

And then I called the phone company tech support.

Look, I think it's great that the folks in India have gotten themselves some great jobs. That's wonderful. Everyone's gotta make a living, right?

What I don't think is great is that they're put in positions of customer support, where they have to talk to people on the phone. And honestly, I'd feel the same way about it if it were people in Spain. If they can't speak English properly, then they need to not be in a position where I'm relying on them to help me verbally.

The tech support person was very nice, but it was like banging my head against a wall. Say this very, very slowly to get an idea of what I mean: "Ok ... now ... in ... the ... box ... type ... this ... in ... Are ... you ... ready? ... Ok ... here ... we ... go ... Type ... in ... h ... as ... in ... Henry ... t ... as ... in ... Tom ... another ... t ... as ... in ... tom ... p ... as ... in ... peter ... and ... now ... a ... semicolon ..." Um, that's a colon. "Alright ... let's ... start ... again ..." Now deal with that for 2-1/2 hours. I kid you not. It took me from 8 to 10:30 to reconnect my DSL modem.

Yes, I know I'm complaining, but I gotta get it all in before I start again. Ok, here I go...

My, isn't the sky particularly shiny and bright today?

I read an article in People magazine about a pastor somewhere in Iowa (or some other such state I've never visited or plan to visit) who is passing out a free "Complaint-Free Bracelet" -- similar to the Live Strong bracelets, but in purple.

The article got me thinking about how often I complain ... and boy, do I complain! So I'm going to try to forego complaining for one whole week.

It's been half a day already, and let me tell you, it's a lot harder than I thought! (Not that I'm complaining...) There have already been at least three our four times that I really had to bite my tongue.

I've also found that, sans complaining, I've talked a lot less today than I normally do. That's pretty sad, isn't it?

Of course, I'm still finding my way around this. I'm sure as the week goes along, I'll come up with rules and exceptions. For example, if I say something sarcastically, like "Boy, I'm sure glad that person didn't cut me off" after someone cuts me off, does that count? (I think it does.) Also, am I allowed to complain on this blog? (I think I should be.) Those kinds of things ...

So we'll see how it goes. I'll be sure to post updates here ... without complaining, of course.

It's been a long time since I've done something stupid.

Ok, not that long, but seriously, it's been a while since I've left the house with two different color shoes on, or walked the looooong hallway to the office without realizing my shirt was up around my neck (don't ask). I mean, it wasn't too long ago that a week wouldn't go by without me walking into the glass doors at 7-11, thinking they were open, or forgetting to close the sunroof during a rainstorm.

That said, I'm in for it big-time. If it's been this long, there's a lot of stupid-time to make up. I wonder what I should expect. Will I get all the way to work before realizing I haven't changed out of my pajamas? Will I show up to work, only to look down and see pink, fuzzy slippers, instead of shoes, on my feet?

I'm a little nervous...

"A creative fan got up close and personal with Hugh Grant at the Amsterdam premiere of his new film, 'Music & Lyrics,' on Friday night. The fan managed to get near the British actor and handcuffed herself to him. Police and emergency fire rescue had to be called in order to cut off the handcuffs. The young lady was later detained by police but released without serving time in jail."

Why didn't I think of this? Oh, yeah, because it's crazy.

My friend Neets said I was not completely forthcoming in my last post. As she so kindly pointed out, "Murder, She Wrote" is among the least embarrassing programs I've been addicted to. Sadly, she is right. I've canceled plans with friends in order to watch much-worse shows. (Remember, though, this was before TiVo ... so I had no choice! I mean, what was I going to do, miss them? Pshaw.)

So, because I have no shame, here is the real list of TV shows I can't help but love. Try not to judge me too harshly. It's a sickness to love this much suckitude.

"Matlock" -- Come on, are you gonna tell me that just the sight of Andy Griffith doesn't make you feel better? It's like pop-culture comfort food, people.

"JAG," about a group of Judge Advocates General. I watch it a lot in reruns. The best thing about the show is that it spawned the spin-off "NCIS."

"The District," which followed the work and personal life of the chief of Washington, D.C.'s Metropolitan Police Department, played by Craig T. Nelson ("Coach"). Sounds like it could be good, right? Yeah, it really wasn't. Which isn't to say I don't enjoy it. The only problem is that reruns are on the same time as "JAG"'s, so I have to switch off on which one to TiVo. Decisions, decisions. Life is hard.

"Stargate SG-1," a sci-fi show about a team of "explorers" that use a network of ancient Stargates, which enable interplanetary travel, to defend Earth from the Goa'uld and other alien threats. I know it sounds hokey, but it's actually quite ... oh, who am I kidding? It's totally cheesy. I love it.

"Viper," an action-adventure TV series about a special task force set up by the federal government to fight crime in fictional Metro City, Calif. The weapon used by the task force is an assault vehicle that masquerades as a Dodge Viper RT/10 roadster and coupe. A poor man's version of "Knight Rider." (And here you thought "Knight Rider" was the poor man's version...)

"Diagnosis Murder" -- This, by far, is the most embarrassing. (Yes, even more so than "Viper" -- at least that was meant to be cheesy.) Here, the plot centered around Dr. Mark Sloan (Dick Van Dyke), a renowned physician who occasionally worked for the police department as a consultant. Riiiight, because being a "renowned physician" wasn't keeping him busy enough. But I love Dick Van Dyke -- he's like Andy Griffith; you can't help but feel good at the sight of him.

There, it's all out in the open. Now that wasn't so bad, was it? I feel much better having gotten that all out there.

Now, if you don't mind, I've got a couple of "Columbo"s to catch up on...

I just got over this awful stomach bug that's been going around, and man, it really knocked me out. It was all I could do to lift my head off the pillow.

So I pretty much spent four days on the couch, sleeping. Ok, that's not true. I spent most of it watching "Murder She Wrote" marathons.

Hm, should I have admitted that? Probably not. But I love myself some Jessica Fletcher. Isn't Angela Lansbury just the coolest old lady? "Murder She Wrote" is like a warm, fuzzy blanket. I can't help but feel calm and reassured when I watch it.

I'd say it's a guilty pleasure, but there's no real reason to feel guilty about it. At least, not like when I used to watch "VIP," that Pamela-Anderson-as-private-detective show. Um, ok, now that I'm fairly certain I shouldn't have admitted...

I'm sorry, was there a football game on last night? I was busy watching commercials ...

Ok, I'm lying. I was totally psyched the Colts beat the Bears, if only because I'm a sucker for underdogs. The fact the game was so tight for most of it only made it more interesting. But really, it's all about the commercials.

My faves:

Budweiser, "Rock." Who knew a game of "rock, paper, scissors" could be so dangerous.

Blockbuster, "Mouse." I'm sure the folks at PETA hated it, but I thought it was hysterical.

Snickers, "Manly." Yes, it was homophobic, but funny nonetheless. And really, it made fun of what idiots men can be. "Quick, let's do something manly." I can totally picture that happening.

Bud Light, "Class." I love Carlos Mencia, so this ad, where he teaches an ESL class, was likely to be entertaining for me. I also liked the one where he tells his girlfriend's friends all the things she's been saying about them behind their backs. Ok, so if that actually happened to me, I'd be really pissed, but it's TV, so who cares? It's funny.

Budweiser, "Dogs." Sooooo cute. I totally wanted to adopt that dog.

I also liked the one about Black History Month. It was sentimental, which you don't really look for in Super Bowl commercials, but it was nice. Of course, the fact that it was followed by men bashing each other in pursuit of a ball didn't exactly help.

This was on a friend's blog, but I can't resist sharing:

Um, I'm not quite sure what I'd do if I walked in to this on a Monday morning...

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." -- Marianne Williamson

Wow. How amazing is that quote? I heard it first in "Akeelah and the Bee," and it stuck with me. "Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." This is especially true of women. All young girls should be read this quote. Let's stop the "marginalization of women" and remind girls that it's ok -- actually, encouraged -- to be strong, powerful, opinionated.