Archive | July, 2010

Ask and Ye Shall Receive…An Answer

Ask and Ye Shall Receive…An Answer

We’re simple creatures, right?

That means that sometimes, we’re not so perceptive. It’s not because we don’t care, it’s because we’re genetically wired to be hunters, not gatherers. Consequently, we hunt solutions but are often not good at gathering information. Like hints. You may find that you drop them all over the place…and that we don’t get it. This often leads to frustration or disappointment that we haven’t done something, or stopped doing something, or something like that.

Another, probably more effective way to approach the unmet need might be to ask directly. Typically, we want to keep you as happy as we can (within reason — you’ll have to watch a Meg Ryan chic flic with your friends, not us)…so we’ll usually try to accommodate. Even if we won’t, or can’t, you’ll at least know that you have an answer.

Be square!

Be square!

Gum, I hate the stuff, sticky on the sidewalk, noisy crack’n obnoxiousness….. But, when in need of an after a dose of afternoon caffeine, I loooooove Ice Breakers.  Very tasty elicit little treats like sugar cubes sneaked from grandmas’ cupboard. It’s something about the cube with a little crunch. Unexpectedly, it’s a Hershey product, go figure, […]

Sale Season!!

Sale Season!!

Timing my shopping around the third markdown is the female equivalent of waiting for deer hunting season: it is all about stalking my prey with patience and precision, waiting for just the right time to pounce.

Get nervous and buy too soon, you may pay more than you need to, depleting your reserves that could be used elsewhere.

Wait too long, you may be hunting amidst the reject pile.

As the moment approaches, Big Sis and I lay out our game plan………Where we attack first is based on previous scouting missions with a keen eye to who has the most product, like an overgrown herd that needs to be thinned.

Having a good spotter is key; a sales person who knows your preferences and stalks for you, hiding among the reeds, pulling your favorites the minute the third markdown hits.

You may think us silly for our process… but remember, next time you eye my new Pucci skirt, just remember it cost the same amount as that shirt from Ann Taylor, and its a heck of a lot more fun.

“Join the party!” Go Zumba!

“Join the party!” Go Zumba!

This is not your Sweatin’ to the Oldies with Richard Simmons….

It’s a blast! work out and dance. Gyms, dance studios, workout facilitys are opening classes and they are jammed! I found my first class at the city park.

Beginners like me hide in the back corner for the first few times to avoid being seen tripping over my big feet. I’m dutch, we invented the Klompen (Klutz in dutch, perhaps? it’s a dance done in wooden shoes -need we say more?).

Add some Latin flavor and international zest into the mix and you’ve got a Zumba® class! Check out Zumba to find classes near you.



The wife and I went to see “Sex In The City 2.” I implore you not to see this movie.

The original series and first movie were edgy. Witty. Insightful. Even, as HBO brags, “groundbreaking.”

The characters were likable. They reminded us of people whom we knew. The were multidimensional. They had at least a fleeting sense of reality to them.

What the hell happened?

This sequel made “Caddyshack II,” “Slap Shot II,” and “Major League II” (horrifyingly bad sequels to seminal guy movies) look like Oscar candidates.

The dialogue –when it wasn’t finding ways for the characters to drop gratuitous f-bombs, no doubt intended to simultaneously shock the overwhelmingly female audience and tell them it’s cool to cuss — was too clever by half and peppered with pitiful puns that made me want to puke.

The plot? Preposterous. The girls (easy there ladies, that’s what they call themselves…I’m just the reporter here) were caricatures of themselves. Hokey cameos by semi-starlets. Yawn.

The whole thing was a showcase for excess — remarkably tasteless in a 10% unemployment environment. Who goes to Abu Dhabi on an all-expenses paid junket? Who drives around in chauffer driven Maybachs? Who goes out drinking like that all the time? And why the hell is it always Cosmos? Those are so 2007. If you’re going to curse, would it kill you to drink scotch or a proper see-through with an olive or an onion? Really.

And look…I like to feel pretty as much as the next guy, but the cavalcade of crappy couture was criminal. Who are they kidding? Nobody wears this shit any more than any man wears the overpriced garbage in GQ and Esquire (and don’t get me started on who must pick the models…).

Oh…and Samantha? The lascivious sexpot routine was funny and alluring for a while, and we’d even throw her a bone (so to speak) in the first movie even though she was getting a little tired…but she is now a genuine hag, and shouldn’t be wearing half of what she was wearing (or more accurately, should have been wearing TWICE what she was wearing). The close-ups that suggested that she still had a shred of hotness simply ruined the speed-dinner we needed before we had to spring the babysitter. Men generally love women who are open about their sexuality…but have a little judgment and taste, and act more than HALF your age.

The wedding (Big gets in trouble for referring to it as a “gay wedding” so I’ll refrain), though, was screamingly funny. A men’s chorus singing romantic standards in glittery top hats. And swans. And Liza Minelli. Priceless.

Take my advice. Skip it. Watch “The Godfather” again. You’ll thank me later.