Today Is the Worst Day of the Rest of Your Life!

Things that happened to me yesterday:


1. I never like to talk about my job but let's say this...I got substatial 'tude over the phone, which I feel like is more degrading than 'tude in person. It's like I'm not even important enough to get a good talking to behind closed office doors. Boo.

2. Went out for happy hour, got buzzed (due to lack of food), went back to office to find cell phone under a pile of envelopes. Saw office phone voicemail was on. Made the biggest mistake ever by checking said voicemails. Was sent on impossible intern-like mission.

3. Caught in giant deluge of rain. My pants became secnd skin. I felt like I would absorb them through some sort of wet clothing osmosis. My sandals starting sliding off, so if you saw a girl walking around 8th Ave. like a crackhead, she wasn't high (buzzed, maybe), she was just wet and trying to walk in heels under a crappy $1.99 Old Navy umbrella. Looked wild and uncontrollable a la Bertha in Jane Eyre or Halle Berry in Jungle Fever. Seriously, like mascara down the face and everything. I felt like someone, might confuse me for a random Natasha Lyonne sighting. So far, nothing on Gawker.

Daniel Powter has nothing on Bertha and me.

4. Cell Phone rings. VIP calling about aforementioned mission. I answer the phone in an unprofessional snotty way. Heard career goals being washed away with the rain pellets in the gutter.

5. Changed to go on mission. Went in and out of apartment six times before I had all of my necessary belongings (i.e. purse, keys, umbrella, phone, wallet, proper footwear and a digital camera to capture the experience).

6. Made a million phone calls to friends angrily explaining what I was doing. I love Gotittogether and Spanish for listening. They help me realized that I should keep my job and do my mission with a smile, if only to stay off the pole.

7. Failed my mission. I hate the blond bitches at American Apparel who explain that some of their items are online exclusives. How can an EFFING T-SHIRT BE AN ONLINE EXCLUSIVE??????? Whores. All of them.

8. Had dentist appointment. First visit to a new dentist (I've had the same one since I was 3). THe bitch who cleaned my teeth really just wanted to gauge my gums. She spent the entire time discussing how she had lost her glasses and gottena ticket te day before. I think she must have felt the need to take it out on my poor defenseless gums. Then she tells me I need another appointment for X-Rays and a check-up. Umm, in what world do they not do that all in one shot????? My former dentist (who is only my former because he doesn't take my insurance) always did everything at once. Then I looked on the wall. Faith Evans and Jamie Lynn Sigler (DiScala) are among his celebrity patients. Apparently I'm not deserving of a full check up. Just a maiming, I mean cleaning. Whore.
Nobody's looking at her teeth.

9. Watched as my favortie couple on So You Think You Can Dance? had to dance for their lives because America is too dumb to appreciate the graceful wonder that is Jessica and Jaymz. Yes, he spells it with a "z." And It's hot. Thank you Nigel, for saving them one more time.

10. Found out the cute guy I gave my card to on Wed. night at a press event was "In A Relationship" or at least that's what myspace told me after I stalked him. I'm so bad.


In short, yesterday may have been the worst day of my life. But today ain't looking so great either. And people wonder why I drink.

The Bell Jar: How my once favorite tv show is slowly ruining my faith in humanity.

Like many people my age, I grew up in an era of fun and fancy free Saturday mornings curled up on my couch watching the antics of the crazy kids at Bayside High. Yes, Saved By The Bell was my life. So much so, that I would play Saved by The Bell trivia with friends at school. I would love that Channel 11 and TBS both showed episodes after school (TBS would air them on their :05, :35 schedule, because they were weird, but it made it perfect to check out the Channel 11 epi, and then change to TBS without mnissing a beat if you had already seen that one recently).

My senior year of high school, a bunch of my friends dressed up as the chracters up to and including Screech's one-time girlfriend, Violet Bickerstaff, who was played by none other than Tori Spelling. Luckily, they were smart enough to leave out Tori, who for a brief stint in the final season mysteriously replaced both Jesse and Kelly. Those episodes may be some of the worst, but not the absolute worst, because the one where Kelly dumbs Zack for Jeff while Kelly and A.C. Slater sing "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You?" takes that crown. But don't worry, she got hers when she caught him cheating on her at The Attic.

Lately I have been reading many a disturbing thing about our old friend at Bayside. It started about 2 or 3 years ago when I heard about Mario Lopez and Ali Landry geting a divorce after just a month of marriage. Turned out he cheated on her in Mexico during his bachelor party. A.C.? Cheat? On the Doritos Girl? No way Preppy.

Then I got an email from my friend (the Hamptons connection one). A friend from high school (the one who was Violet) knew the girl he cheated with. Attached was a photo. A.C. Slater is slime.

Then I heard about Screech a.k.a Dustin Diamond losing his house. Yea, his residuals from the show aren't really helping. So he's selling t-shirts. Online. The saddest part? He can't even use the name Screech on them. He had to insert and extra "e" for copyright reasons!!!!!!!! Zoinks!



Yesterday, I was reading evidiot.blogspot.com, some dude's blog that is really funny, until I ran into this:

Anyone who doesn't see what is wrong here needs to look closely...

Why do I have the feeling that the Dorito's girl had something to do with this????

Anyway. After watching Name Your Adventure I think dear old Mario deserves a little humiliation.

Maybe he should have to do a ballet dance for Jesse one more time. It was their anniversary after all.

Lastly, today I was reading The Best Week Ever blog which sent me to stereogum.com (who got the pics from College Humor). This is the most disturbing SBTB truth out of all of them, well that and Tiffani Thiessen's boob job. Apparently, the dude who played Mr. Belding, the bumbling principal who always fell victim to Zack's (and eventually the"new class") pranks and misbehavior, likes to party at college dive bars and hit on young chicks.

Exhibit A:


It's ok to shudder in your chair. I know I did. THE HORROR! THE HORROR!!!!!


For more:

http://www.stereogum.com/archives/000891.html


I want to make it clear that NONE of these things were on the E! True Hollywood Story. Is it just me? Or is seing Jesse Spano's boobs in Showgirls seeming a little bit less like a big deal now?


At least Mark Paul Gosselar is ok. Sure he want through a chubby phase during "The College Years" but he made it to NYPD Blue and was pretty funny in "Dead Man on Campus" (although watching a brunette Zack smoke from a bong did make me upset, didn't he remember the PSA he shot after Johnny Dakota left his joint in the hallway?)

But I guess it's just a matter of time before he gets arrested for doing a "Time Out"
or something.

Requiem for a Hotlantic City Weekend.

Do you remember how Sesame Street used to put together montages to help kids learn numbers? And sometimes they would have this pastry chef with a bunch of cakes or pies (usually the number of pies was equivalent to the number that was sponsoring the show that day)? I used to laugh at that guy. I laugh no more.

This weekend I sojourned to AC for BFF's Bachelorette Party. As the Maid of Honor, I had to run the show, which I decided to keep fairly classy. Well, sort of, this is ME we're talking about.

To prepare, about a mnth ago I went to Ricky's, an NYC institution known for selling hair care products and becoming Halloween headquarters. This past year, Jonsey bought her costume there.


And yes, I looked damn good. So needless to say, when it came to chessy penis decorations for a bachelorette party I knew where to go.

Cut to Jonesy, in her cute corporate attire wandering behind a beaded curtain. Besides being bombarded by a selction of crazy vibrators galore I found was I was looking for, (penis straws) and more!

I purchased a cake topper, that like a peanuts can with a springy snake, held a spring fake weiner which popped out of the cake. I became obsessed with bringing a cake to the damn party.

One cake carrier, hearts shaped pan and some sprinkles later, I had created my masterpiece. BFF loved it and although no one ate it right away (I made it my big "reveal" moment after dinner, from which everyone was way to stuffed to eat anymore) all thought it was cute.

I knew it was delicious, after all, I made it with love, hence making it white girl soul food. SO I returned it to it's carrier and decided to take it home. Seemed easy enough. Until I decided to hold the carrier by the top. WHICH IT SAYS YOU CAN DO.

Hungover...check. 4 hours sleep...check. Still in shirt from night before...check. Cake flying uncontrollable from hand in the middle of an Atlantic City casino , penis candles flying everywhere, while I almost cried and people just stared at me and laughed...check, check, check, check and check.

Yes, it was eventually funny, and we had a great time and BFF was very appy with the night overall, BUT really, I'm still pissed about this effing cake.

Every drop you take, every cake you make, I'll be missing you....
My penis cake
Beloved Party Accessory
6.23.06 - 6.25.06
RIP

My dog gets more action than I do

My mom has a dog. Well, it was my sister's dog but when she got hitched last summer, the dog took permamnent residence at my mom's house. He is a big fat yellow lab who I like to call Lord G, because everyone treats him like a damn person. But not just any person, like say one's daughter, no, Lord G is effing royalty in my house. He decided he liked to sit in my favorite spot over the floor radiator when I was away at college one year. When I returned home for winter break, what was once "Jonesy's Spot" was now reserved for Lord G. Lord G has outfits, more leashes than I do shoes, and has had a different Halloween costume for the past 6 years. The family talks to him like he's a real human being. Yes, sometimes I really hate him.

This past weekend I spent the day at my mother's house, and until then I never really got the whole treating a dog as a person thing. I understood that the dog had feelings, as I would note everytime we left the house becaus ehe would pull the cushion off what had become "his chair" and leave it on the floor for us to pickup, a warning if you will, of what happens when his owners leave the house. At least it's a step up from him eating all of my bras and underwear a few years back. That dog still owes me $100 in unmentionables.

My mom was going out to dinner and Spanish and Gotittogether were both mia doing adult type things. I figured I should come back to the city and find something to do for the night. I put in a call to who I will call BFF, for the simple fact that she has been my friend since I was 3, and I asked her to take me to the train station. We started chatting and as I tend to do, I started wondering the house while talking on the phone. I left the kitchen and walkedinto my living room only to scream in horror at what I saw.

The chair cushion that I thought was so innocently being strewn to the floor was being raped or shoudl I saw in the more Shakespearean manner, ravaged, by Lord G. Mind you, this damn dog had his balls snipped shortly after he became a part of our family (as most men do because we are a strictly estrogen household). He should not be in heat. And he wasn't just rubbing against it, he had ripped a hole inside and was enjoying the feeling of the stuffing, while his tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. Little perv.

Doggie, Doggie where's your bone?

I screamed and ran away. He proceeded to shrink off in shame and lie on the floor panting for the next hour. Thank God he has no balls, because they would have been blue.

I ran pstairs, felt embarassed and a little dirty. Then it hit me, he was a dog, why did I care? it wasn't like I had walked in on a person having sex. It was nature, part of the animal kingdom, instinct. He doesn't have the cabability to reason. But he was my family dog, the puppy that over the past six years had grown on me and really become one in the family. He's like the little brother I never had (well, unless you count the two years I had that Russian little brother and sister from my Dad's second marriage, or the step-brother I have now that I haven't seen since 2004 from his third). And animal or not, watching him "do it" may have been the grossest thing I've ever seen.

I see London, She sees France...

London came back from France on Monday. Poor thing has barely been able to keep her eyes open since she got back. Jet lag is a bitch, especially when you are coming from an extended stay somewhere. It's one thing to go to Europe and come back a week later. You barely have tme to adjust ot the time limit. But London was gone for two weeks. And her fight to stay awake and get back on a regular sleep schedule reminded me of my own plight last summer when I came back from London (the city, not the roommate).

After my six weeks of wrangling college kids (which lead to drinking excesive amounts of drinking) I had to prep myself for my sister's wedding, which was a week after I returned home. My sister decided to have her rehearsal dinner a week before the wedding instead of a few days (don't ask). She decided to have her rehearsal the day I was supposed to return. I explanied to her that I would be flying internationally that day and the odds were I wouldn't make it. Since I was already missing her bachelorette party she gave me a bit of a guilt trip. About halfway through my summer, I realized that it would be cool if I could switch my flight to a 9 am, getting me into JFK around 2 pm and just in time for the 4 pm rehearsal.

Of course I was exhausted when I got off the plane (4 hours sleep before I left plus none on the plane plus jetlag makes Jonesy a cranky lady). When I showed up at my mom's house I changed quickly and hid in my room to unveil myself as the big surprise to my sister, I had made it afterall, and she would be ever so grateful. Then I heard the doorbell ring. I relaized I had left my luggage in the foyer. Surprise ruined. I heard her bound up the stairs, and I fully expected her to run into my room at any time. But she didn't. Oh well, maybe she was too busy to notice my 2 huge suitcases, I thought to myself.

Scene 2: the chapel. I was sitting in a pew when she walks in. Ready for my big hug I waved to her to let her know that I was there and had saved the day by taking a super early flight. Nothing. She did nothing. Nunca. Nada. Zero. About 10 minutes after seeing me she came to say hello, acknowledge my presence. My other sister and I looked at her in disbelief, as I received not a single thank you for hauling my butt back home from ENGLAND and making it to her rehearsal that she had been guilting me about.

But what about me?????

As I stood on the altar, half watching the mock ceremony and half falling asleep, I knew deep down that she was most likely overwhelmed and was happy I was there. But I also knew deep down that I hadn't come home to make her happy. I was there because I wanted to be, watching her get ready to get married, the first of the three sisters. And that night I did get back some energy, after 9 diet sodas at dinner I got some energy and came back to my apartment here in the city. I even made it out that night. Jonesy, a jetsetting party girl with a heart of gold? Maybe a little bit. My family and friend who have known me since I was a kid don't really get it. I'm never happy in once place for too long. It's like geographical ADD. New York is the only place that I've been able to call home for more than a year since I was in high school (I don't think college counts considering you sort of have to stay there). Even here I tend to get really bored, which leads to me trekking into the burbs for the weekend, geting bored again, and realizing how good I have it.

My best friend is getting married exactly one month from today. She recently gave me a letter which made me a little sad, as she said that life doesn't turn out the way you think it will and she always thought I would have lived back in Westchester until I got married and that I would stay there forever. And she's right. Growing up, I thought the two of us would get married and be neighbors. But my dreams have changed and I'm sure hers have too. I still know we will always be friends, and that when we have kids we will take them shopping on Sundays, and that we'll have holidays and Christenings, Communions and Weddings. And that when we are realy old, we'll be like the old ladies that you always see walking down the street hand in hand together or at the diner talking really loud. She'll be the Dorothy to my Blanche. Even if my dreams are different and even if I go to a hundred places, I'll always come home, and put my jetsetting aside for at least for a little while. Just to check in the my my family and best friends. And to get over the jet lag of life.

And Golden Girls we shall be!

They call it a loop, but why is it a double-edged sword?

Every Monday since Memorial Day I find myself asking the same question to a friend of mine. She is the kind of friend that you can count on for adventure (like the time a self-proclaimed female religion teacher dropped trou in a bathroom of a bar in front of me, or the time we decided to drive a local bar owner home and close his place for him), the kind that gives me a compliment when I really dig for one, and the kind that loves to analyze boys (more so now that she has recently reintroduced herself to the dating pool). The answer she gives me is never the same, but by the end of our dialogue I am usually filled with some degree of jealousy.

The conversation usually goes down as something like this:

Moi: "How was you weekend?"

Her: "I don't want to tell you."

Moi: "Why?"

Her: "You'll get mad at me and yell at me."

Moi: "Why?" (at this point I'm suspicious that she did something really bad)

Her answer usually includes one of the following points: "I was in the Hamptons partying with tons of fun people that you know and I met a cute boy and he myspaced messaged meand we're going on a date and we had a dance party and it was the best weekend ever."

Moi: "I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooo jealous." Sigh.

I'm happy for her, really I am. She deserves to have all the fun she is having. But so do I. And I need it.

This all started last summer, when I found out that a lot of people would be hanging out in The Hamptons. Now, I can't complain too much, I was on a free ride in London for six weeks...BUT...I learned what it was like to be really and truly out of the loop. It sucks. It didn't help that I was going through some sort of "Who am I?" exestential crisis and terrorists were bombing my main mode of transport, but to hear that fun people were partying beachside without me, that just hurt.

At least last year I had an excuse, I was across an ocean dealing with college kids, terrorists and lots of touchy feely guys. This year my excuse is much more humbling and in truth, kind of pathetic. I'm. broke.

As I have said time and time again, my best friend in the whole world and my sister are both getting married this year. I am the maid of honor in both weddings. I am so happy for them and I love being a big part of such a memorable occasion in their lives but let me tell you, I am now effing broke.

Not only am I broke, I find myself occupied almost every weekend until August. Between dress fittings, outings, birthdays and holidays I really have to check my book to see if I have time to hang out with anyone. And because I'm never around for any of the drunken Hamptons fun, I have been left on the sidelines, still pale from the winter (although Jergens has hooked me up a bit), with no Grease-style summer lovin'. I have no gossip to share with anyone, so the normal even exchange of fun weekend tales of debauchery is one-sided with me. So yea, it sort of sucks.

But then I thought about when I was actually in the loop. That sucks too. EVERYONE knows your business. Who sleeps with who and dates who and has a high school makeout session with who is open season. I have some experiences with the power of the Westchester gossip mill from my Freshman year of college. Strangers knew my business and it wasn't always pretty.

Now that I am out of the loop, my life is sort of mystery to alot of people. No one knows where I was last weekend...or who I was or was not with and what I was or was not doing.

And at the same time, I don't think any of them really care. Therein lies the dilemma. In the end, I wouldn't have my summer any other way. Would I switch spending a day with my friend while she tries on her wedding dress to any drunken night? Never. Would I blow off a good friend's birthday party to get myself back on the radar and in the loop? Nope.

But vow that every Monday, I will call my Hamptons connection and listen to her stories with anticipation and jealousy, and live vicariously through her tales of tanned men and drunken poolside fun. It just makes me more excited for August, when I will actually visit her mythical Hampton's house, and undoubtedly do something that will keep the gossip mills talking for years.



**Note, please exscuse the lack of picks. London is in France right now and I am writing this post on her computer because mine caught an STD. So, I don't want to download any pics on snaggle toothed babies or princesses kissing frogs for her to view when she gets back. Sorry, it's a very textual post.**

"LLoyd! Get in Here!"

I promise, a new post at some point this week. As soon as my life stops being a bad episode of Entourage and people stop running around calling my name loudly over cubicle walls.

At least this guy has a good looking boss.

"If they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire..."

I've just been flooded with work and incredibly busy taking out all of my stress on unsuspecting friends and loved ones (poor Spanish never saw it coming). So please, bear with me until I get myself organized!


To top it off, my laptop has seem to have gotten the flu. I promise at least one post this week. I have quite a bit of catching up to do! Trust me, this stuff will be worth the wait.

Now if I can only get Lumberg to leave me alone for like 5 seconds....

"Ummm yea, I'm gonna have to ask you to help me print this out."