Thursday, October 30, 2008

The Secret

Last weekend I took Scout on a trip to Amherst, MA to visit my sister. At first, as we were sitting in a traffic jam, I thought that it was a huuuge mistake because Scout used to get crazy carsick. By crazy carsick, I mean that as a puppy, she would sit in the backseat of my Nissan Maxima and contort her throat into making the most disgusting sounds, after which she would propel a mound of half-digested dog food onto my leather seats. The only great thing about leather seats is that it cleans up dog vomit pretty easily. Otherwise, it's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winters.

As I drove, I tried to ease into the gas pedal and keep a bit of a distance between my car and the next driver so I wouldn't have to slam on the breaks, but wouldn't you know it -- about two dozen people would see that small gap and decide to cut me off, forcing me to SLAM down on the breaks and curse the son-of-a-bitch under my breath after which I screamed, "SORRY SCOUT!"

When we got to Amherst (about one hour late) we took Scout on a beautiful walk through the woods and met a bunch of my sister's friends. On the way home, I suddenly realized that I forgot to pack any of her dog toys. Right after I had that thought, the tennis coach, who was packing up her car, dropped a tennis ball which bounced right toward Scout. When the coach saw us, she said, "She can keep it!"

S'lucky! I threw the ball around with her and got her all tuckered out before my sister and I headed out for dinner.

The next day, we took her to a farmer's market and Scout made friends with the organic apple ladies, who gave her generous slices of apples rich with organic goodness. Amherst is such a dog-friendly town that almost every person who passed us gave her pets, which is her Number Two favorite thing in the world only second to FOOD!

We went for another long walk and window-shopped. I was afraid that Scout was thirsty after all that walking, but I didn't bring her dog bowl with me. Just then, we walked into the Essentials store and the cute salesgirl asked us if Scout wanted water, because the store has this great dog bowl they fill with water for dogs!

I turned to Jenny and said, "I think that Scout has been reading THE SECRET."

Thursday, October 23, 2008

The New Knight Rider

Peter and I watched a bit of the NEW Knight Rider pilot and it was so bad that a few minutes into the show, Peter turned to me and said, "Wow, the show hasn't been cancelled yet?"

I burst into laughter, picturing a big corporate television executive sitting in his plush leather sofa watching the same part of the show we just did and calling in the order to cancel the show five minutes into the pilot episode. I imagined the television screen going into an old rerun with a message from the network saying, "Yes, we let Knight Rider run for a few minutes, but realized that this show is SOOO terrible that we had to perform an Insta-Cancel. Thanks for watching and we're so sorry that we greenlit the absurd amount of money to produce this show instead of feeding hungry babies in Africa."

I mean, there are some shows which warrant the spending of the big bucks -- but the New Knight Rider? It's the sucks.

It's so bad that when the main character goes into the "Restricted Area," the audience is made aware that it is a "Restricted Area" by the signs which looked like photocopied paper taped to the doors.

When the show first aired in the 80s, the concept of a talking car was just so whack. But now, I don't think it's as far-fetched, so it's just silly to watch people get FREAKED OUT by a talking car. By now, I think we're expecting cars to talk.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Husbands Don't Belong in Forever 21

Walking into Forever 21 is like being blasted into a room filled with sensory experiences -- clothes just itching for you to touch its material, shiny bangles that beg for you to touch all their shininess, funky sunglasses that look just like Nicole Ritchie's, and you know you must try them on just to see how she looks at the world.

When we were in Orlando, Peter and I went shopping and just as he wanted to leave, the Forever 21 store beckoned its shiny gold fingers at me. Y'know those scenes in movies when a box opens and all you, the audience, can observe is the shiny light on the character's faces? That's what Forever 21 is like. Forever 21 is the shiny box.

The minute we walk in, Peter is in a bad mood, because, HELLO? There are NO CHAIRS!

The reason there are no chairs is that this store is made for fifteen-year-olds. Fifteen-year-olds who are not saddled with husbands who are just fine if they have a chair to rest their weary butts after a long day of shopping and a place where they can twiddle around with their Blackberry.

So I browse the store, which can take all day, there's too much stuff! The store is jammed-packed filled with STUFF. So I walk only about a quarter of the way through the store and Peter stomps up to me and informs me with a controlled unhappiness that I have been there for FOURTY-FIVE MINUTES!!

Huh? Whaaa? How can that be? Not only is Forever 21 a roomful of STUFF, it's also a sucker of time. You walk in and WHOOSH! You're the Rip Van Winkle of shopping.

But how can Forever 21 put any chairs in its stores? I'm sure its CEO wakes up every day and says:

"Each and every square inch Must. Be. Filled. With. STUFF."

Sunday, October 19, 2008


I've noticed that there are more cars with vanity plates these days than there used to be when I was a child. Is it because our generation is more willing to throw money away on silly things? Or is it because when we renew our registration online the website asks us if we want to get a license plate that features the Yankees, Child Safety, or vanity plates? I'm sure more than one person looks at that screen and says, "Hey, I've always wanted all my friends to know that I'm lame."

One time, while I was living in Michigan, a foreign student from Asia drove my roommate and me to Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace and I saw that she had a vanity plate that had both her first name and last name printed on it.

"Uh," I said. "You really shouldn't have your name printed on your license plate."

"Oh!" She said, totally surprised. "Why not?"

"Well, it's the same reason our mothers didn't write our names on our backpacks or our T shirts, because then some stranger con man on the street can walk right up to you and say, 'Hey Emily Kee, remember me?' and then take you to an undisclosed location, hit you over the head, and it'll be an episode of CSI."

She looked at me like I was CUh-RAZY and snorted, like,'re paranoid.

Today I noticed a vanity plate that said: "ISAVEGAS" and I was all, "What's Is A Vegas?"

Peter looked at the sanctimonious white Prius and said, "Oh, what a douchebag. It's I Save Gas."

Meanwhile, this whole time, I'm thinking, "What's the thing that is a Vegas?"

Friday, October 17, 2008

I Didn't Write It

Today after I dropped off the boy I've been babysitting, I went to the supermarket, where I randomly bumped into the mom's boyfriend. He seemed really surprised to see me and for some reason, even if there's nothing strange about bumping into someone in the supermarket, I felt weird about it. When I told Peter about it and asked him if it was weird, he said that it was and here is the conversation that followed:

"But why would it be weird to simply bump into someone in the supermarket? What's so strange about that? Yet, we BOTH think it's weird."

"Uh oh, this is the part of the movie where he's been STALKING you and is going to try to kill you."

"Uhm. Not if it's a Desperate Housewives episode."

"No, if it was, you guys would be about to start an affair."

"Well, he's nowhere near as cute as you, so that wouldn't happen."

"Then he's a stalker."

"That's ridiculous."

"Don't blame me, I didn't write the movie."

Monday, October 13, 2008

Not Shitting You

I decided that the long weekend would be a good time to move little kitty to the next level of Litter Kwitter. The dreaded GREEN level -- the level which FREAKS THEM OUT (according to the Litter Kwitter message boards). The first morning after I outfitted the Litter Kwitter with the newer green level, I woke up with Peter going around the house screaming, "Oh, no! Oh NO! OH NO!"

Of course, that could only mean one thing, which was, yes, the kitty decided to poop and pee ON THE FLOOR! Do you know how heinous it is to wake up to poop and pee that you will need to clean up off the floor?

However, before we clean up the poop, Peter and I must take turns analyzing all the angles of the excrement all over our bathroom floor. Did it look like she tried to poop and pee into the toilet, but simply missed?

Or...Did she just sit her butt down on the floor and poop?

That's right, the newest show on television: CSI: OUR BATHROOM.

I walked up to the kitten and said, "No! Bad kitty! No going on the floor! No treat for you!"

I think I gave her a complex, because she then proceeded to not pee or poop...for about 65 hours. I am totally not kidding. She did not empty her bowels the whole weekend. Instead of pooping, she would meow and meow and meow and meow. As if saying, "Why did you fuck with me? Now I can't go! I need to go! What should I do?!"

A few times over the weekend I almost broke down and put the orange disc back in, but Peter was totally playing hardball and absolutely would not allow it.

Finally, about ten minutes ago she pooped! On the green disc like she was supposed to! We almost threw the kitty a ticker-tape parade right in our living room. We showered her with treats and now the meowing-all-the-time kitten hasn't made a peep. She needs to rest after all the hard work of holding in poop for three days.

Later, I said to Peter, "I cannot believe that she held in her pee and poop for three days. I mean, that's just not normal."

"I don't really know about that," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked him. "Have you ever held it in for three days?"

Friday, October 10, 2008


About a year ago, my sister Jenny introduced me to this frozen yogurt called Pinkberry. Yes, you've probably heard of it, as have a gajillion other people. On more than one occasion, we've driven into the city before Pinkberry opened to get our Pinkberry breakfast!

The last time we were in the city, I looked at her and said, "Hey! I think there's time to get some Pinkberry!" I reached into my day planner, where I keep a list of all the local Pinkberries. "Oh," I said. "Do you think this is totally over-the-top?"

Reaching into her bag, Jenny pulled out her moleskine notebook to her very own Pinkberry page.

So a few weeks ago, Jenny told me that her friend made Pinkberry with this recipe in their dorm room with the Cuisinart ice cream maker and said it was "face-meltingly GOOD."

I went right out and bought the ingredients and tried to make it, but it just formed goopy yogurt. It was very delicious goopy yogurt, but it was disappointing. No freezing!! I was so bummed and I called Jenny to tell her that the recipe didn't work. Apparently I had the same ice cream maker as her roommate, so what the hell?

I went on message boards and found out that I need to put my ice cream freezer container with my fridge on the coldest setting for two days. So I did this a few days ago and I made the pinkberry today and....

IT WORKED!! It tastes (can I say it?) BETTER THAN PINKBERRY!

I ran into Peter's office and yelled, "IT FORMED! IT FORMED!"

He laughed because he immediately knew what I was talking about.

Now I am s'happy!

Sidenote: I used 2 containers of Trader Joe's greek yogurt, 1/2 cup sugar and a few generous squeezes of agave syrup in the ice cream maker. Whoooa! Ambrosia!

The funny thing is that I looked at the yogurt at the supermarket and thought, "Four dollars for a tub of yogurt? That's expensive!" Then I realized that I spend that much on ONE little serving of Pinkberry.

Thursday, October 09, 2008

Lazy-Loafing Larchmont Librarians

There is yet another thing I CANNOT stand about Westchester and that is what Peter and I call the closing time situation. In New York City, when a store posted that it closes at 11pm, it closes at 11pm. If you walk in at 10:45, they will serve you. In fact, my dad's restaurant's clock is 5 minutes slow, so in case you are walking in at 11pm, you will definitely get served.

In WESTCHESTER I'm constantly getting to a store, even half-an-hour before closing and the store will be closed or the lights will be turned off.

Today, I walked into the Larchmont Library at 5:45pm to look for a book. I know that the closing time is 6pm, but that's plenty of time for me to run and get that one book, right? I walk to the computer to locate the book, I find the code and walk over to the librarian to ask where that is. This is the first time I've tried to use the Larchmont Library, so I did not know that if you ask the librarian a question at 5:48pm, she will refuse to help you because, "We are CLOSING. There's NO TIME."

And not only did she refuse to help me, the other librarians were already turning off the lights. I've never run into this at Chappaqua, Mount Kisco, or Mamaroneck. In fact, the librarians there will always try to help you because they're not one foot out the door at closing time. (Or fifteen minutes before closing time)

This is a huge pet peeve of mine. There are lots of times Peter and I have gone to a restaurant an hour before closing and the staff is vacuuming and Windexing the tables right next to us. It's so annoying.

Anyway, one thing's for sure, Larchmont Librarians Suck Balls!

Monday, October 06, 2008

Not Helping

In the past few weeks, I have befriended a local au pair at the schoolyard. Basically, none of the moms really want to talk to any of the babysitters or au pairs and I can't make friends with any of the babysitters because I don't speak Spanish.

In the hour I am waiting for my charge to finish playing soccer or football in the play yard, the au pair vents about her home family. When I went to pick up my little boy a few weeks ago, I witnessed first-hand how the mom treats her. The mom was basically going over which children's shoes to throw out and which ones to keep, but in the time she was "showing" the au pair how to do this task, she could have just done the task herself. This wasn't really so much micro-managing as it was power-tripping.

An example of one of the mean things the mom does? They were all in the car and the mom looks at the au pair and says to her: "Something smells in here. Oh, it's you. You STINK." She says that it wouldn't be so bad, but the kids are really awful to her also, and curse at her and call her names all the time and everyone treats her like a slave.

The funny thing is that she's from a place where there are no Jewish people and this family she's staying with is Jewish, so when I tell her to try to get assigned to another family, she said, "I should, because not ALL of the families will be Jewish."

I quickly tell her, "Not ALL Jewish families are mean. You just happen to be staying with a mean family. Who HAPPENS to be Jewish. A lot of my friends are Jewish and they're AWESOME."

She looked at me like, "Yeah, right." And I felt really bad for her. I really think that if you are hosting an au pair, you need to be extra nice because then the au pair will think Americans suck. That mean lady is creating an Anti-Semite in her own house.

Friday, October 03, 2008

He LOVES His Blackberry

For years Peter has gone back and forth on whether he wants a Blackberry. He always gets whatever the Verizon store has for free or for very cheap, just because he couldn't stomach spending $500 on a cell phone, especially when you know they're just giving them away for free in Japan. Every single person from Japan comes over here and is like, "Oh, you mean your cell phones don't come with 5000 megapixel cameras and 2000 Gigs of memory? And you have to pay for them?"

Fine, but they have to pay $2 to play a video game and $50 for a peach, not to mention their $500 melons.

Last week, Peter finally got his very own Blackberry and he LOVES it. Every few hours, he would play around with his Blackberry, turn to me, smile and say, "Have I told you that I LOVE this thing?"

At around the thousandth time he said this, I said to him:

"I KNOW. Did you know that for the past few days, you have told me you love your Blackberry more than you have said you love me?"

He looked at me and blinked several times and said:

"You just made me feel AWFUL...But I do LOVE this Blackberry."