My friend Coco is a marvel. The kind of marvel you kind of want to punch in the face sometimes.
She is super smart and funny, has rock-hard abs and husband who is carved from a solid block of Win. See why I can't stand her?
She has 4 kids and one day during the height of Scrapbooking mania, I asked her if she was going to be indulging.
"No way," she said. "No scrapbooks and no photo albums. I want to keep doing new things, not thinking about the old ones."
In one way, her attitude is appealing. Be like a shark - keep swimming forward. Why sit around fondling memorabilia?
But I am a Cancerian and my tribe tends to be sappy and sentimental and nostalgic little fussbudgets.
What do you think? Bathe in past glory, or nakedly march into the future?
25 April 2009
22 April 2009
Chrysler's Marketing Department - hello?
I have heard that Chrysler may go bankrupt. Shocking!
What is more shocking to me - because of course it is all about me - is that, until this news broke, I had NO IDEA Chrysler was one of the big three car companies.
I have lived in the U.S. my entire life and been subject to the usual barrage of advertising. I'm not immune to it. I know about brands that I have never used - for instance, I know Mr. Pibb is a Dr. Pepper knock-off though I have only tasted Dr. Pepper once and Mr. Pibb never.
I can tell a VW from a Saab from a Volvo from a Fiat. But somehow I thought Chrysler was a sub-brand of something else like GM or AMC or something.
I am thinking that if Chrysler couldn't somehow differentiate themselves in the marketplace to me, their target market, maybe, just maybe, they were doing something very, very wrong.
What is more shocking to me - because of course it is all about me - is that, until this news broke, I had NO IDEA Chrysler was one of the big three car companies.
I have lived in the U.S. my entire life and been subject to the usual barrage of advertising. I'm not immune to it. I know about brands that I have never used - for instance, I know Mr. Pibb is a Dr. Pepper knock-off though I have only tasted Dr. Pepper once and Mr. Pibb never.
I can tell a VW from a Saab from a Volvo from a Fiat. But somehow I thought Chrysler was a sub-brand of something else like GM or AMC or something.
I am thinking that if Chrysler couldn't somehow differentiate themselves in the marketplace to me, their target market, maybe, just maybe, they were doing something very, very wrong.
21 April 2009
Good News/Bad News
The good news is that I washed the kitchen floor.
The bad news is that I did it with a full carafe of coffee.
The good news is that I won best speech (out of three contestants) at Toastmasters last night.
The bad news is that the other 2 people disqualified by going over the time limit.
The good news is that winter is definitely over.
The bad news is that it was almost 100 degrees in April.
The good news is that my 5 bunches of bananas are ripening up finally.
The bad news is ALL AT ONCE.
Anyone want some banana bread? Banana pudding? Banana cream pie?
The bad news is that I did it with a full carafe of coffee.
The good news is that I won best speech (out of three contestants) at Toastmasters last night.
The bad news is that the other 2 people disqualified by going over the time limit.
The good news is that winter is definitely over.
The bad news is that it was almost 100 degrees in April.
The good news is that my 5 bunches of bananas are ripening up finally.
The bad news is ALL AT ONCE.
Anyone want some banana bread? Banana pudding? Banana cream pie?
19 April 2009
Dinner in the Valley
I met a friend for dinner in Studio City last night. When I go down there, I always expect to see pretty people and yesterday was no exception.
I walked in the restaurant, a fairly nice place, behind a guy wearing baggy basketball shorts. Whatever. California casual knows no bounds. I looked down and saw that he had gorgeous tanned shaved legs.
"Cyclist," I thought.
He slid into a seat across from the woman who was waiting for him. She had long, curly auburn hair, half-inch long eyelashes and a short, white knit dress that looked like it had been vacuum-sealed to her body. A body that had absolutely not an ounce of fat on it.
My back was to the couple, but my dinner date got an eyeful.
When the couple walked past us to leave, my friend whispered "That's a guy."
"What?" I said.
"The one in the dress, that's a guy."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yep. Watch them when they walk by outside."
I sat there in anticipation. Surely, no.
Just then they passed, holding hands.
She was tall. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect body.
Man hands. And a rock-hard boy ass.
Ah, the San Fernando Valley. Land of dreams and illusions, where anything is possible.
I walked in the restaurant, a fairly nice place, behind a guy wearing baggy basketball shorts. Whatever. California casual knows no bounds. I looked down and saw that he had gorgeous tanned shaved legs.
"Cyclist," I thought.
He slid into a seat across from the woman who was waiting for him. She had long, curly auburn hair, half-inch long eyelashes and a short, white knit dress that looked like it had been vacuum-sealed to her body. A body that had absolutely not an ounce of fat on it.
My back was to the couple, but my dinner date got an eyeful.
When the couple walked past us to leave, my friend whispered "That's a guy."
"What?" I said.
"The one in the dress, that's a guy."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yep. Watch them when they walk by outside."
I sat there in anticipation. Surely, no.
Just then they passed, holding hands.
She was tall. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect body.
Man hands. And a rock-hard boy ass.
Ah, the San Fernando Valley. Land of dreams and illusions, where anything is possible.
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