Thursday, November 30, 2006


So, I'm preparing a new home for eefers. It's time to grow this beast to include multiple pages, as (believe it or not) will also serve as my "professional website," including this blog in all its gauche glory. Check it out and let me know what you think. I'm going to rearrange some of the pages, and the blog probably won't be the homepage, but I'm digging the new format.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Rheeeee, Rheeeee, Rheeee!

If you couldn't tell, that's the stabbing sound I associate with the shower scene in Psycho.

I'm scared to death of knives--can't even look at them. Forget about medical dramas where they cut into people, I can't even watch Mario Batali chop asparagus on Iron Chef for fear he'll take off one of his chubby fingers along with the stalks. So it should come as no surprise that the only two things I ever attempt in the kitchen are cocktails and casseroles. And the one that requires precision requires only this evil thing I call Knife for garnish--and that's what houseguests are for. It usually goes a little something like this:
Guest: "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Me: "Youbetcha! Can you grab that knife and cut some lemons and limes?"

Guest: "This knife is so cool. Where'd you get it?"
I then go on to explain that this "cool" ceramic knife is the one knife I own. And I don't even really own it.

A few years back I was dating a very nice teacher I'd met on He shared my love of Indian food and dared, for our third date, to travel to my Brighton Beach apartment from his on the Upper East Side to prepare my favorite Indian dish, Chicken Tikka Masala. He inquired about my knife situation and thought I was kidding when I admitted I only had one knife that I'd used as a screwdriver so it was missing a tip, in addition to being cheap and dull, very dull.

Long story short (here you fill in your own story that involves absolutely no sex and very little heavy petting), I lost Dan and somehow kept the knife. (It happens to also be missing a tiny bit of its tip because, yeah, I used it as a screwdriver, but at least it's still sharp as hell.)

Where is this story going, you ask? Well, it is going to tell you that today I just signed with a literary agency where a very cool agent will work to publish MY COOKBOOK--on casseroles, of course. And why am I telling you this? I guess out of a sense of self-pride, and also to give a little hope to people who have given up on that whole you-can-do-anything-you-put-your-mind-to bullshit. Guess what? Turns out it's not bullshit. A girl who's afraid of knives is writing a cookbook that might actually be published. What's next? Authors who can't write? Stupid presidents? The possibilities are endless. Though I will give myself more credit than W, and go out on a limb and say I can make a better casserole than he can make... a complete sentence?

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

It's Fun to Stay at The...

I sometimes feel like it's a federal offense to not belong to a gym in New York City. Rather, it's a federal offense to be fat in New York City. While (I hope) I don't qualify as fat, I'm certainly festively plump and my food baby has been growing at a rapid speed lately -- in part, thanks to the fantastic meals my boyfriend prepares and my general lack of exercise. I'm absolutely not going to stop scarfing those meals, either. So, I broke down and joined the gym last night...after taking a class that seriously kicked my ass. Aquarobics and Movement for the Older Adult, here I come! And that class where you pay a little extra for them to massage you sounds fun, too.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Another Straphanger Saved From My Wrath

Anything I can do to keep from riding the subway during rush hours, I do -- as much for my sanity, as for my fellow commuters, the ones I consider bludgeoning every day for such offenses as clipping their nails and smelling bad. I've even gone so far as to quit my job (but that doesn't come until later). In the mean time, Water Taxi just lowered their rates from something like $17 to $2 and added service from Dumbo.

OMG, I Can Finally Save the Mushroom Princess!

Fifteen freaking years later, someone finally figured out that a motion-sensitive controller might help those of us who are a little video game-tarded get past level one of anything but Duck Hunt and Clay Shooting. You see, as a kid, I always let the poor Mushroom Princess die, because instead of pushing the right buttons in the correct sequence, I'd flail my arms in an attemt to rescue her from the evil pods. So all you button pushers better watch out once I get my hands on a Nintendo Wii. This flailer is coming for you... but in, like, six months when the line dies down.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Fun With Braces

I was poking around my old orthodontist's website (don't ask me why) and found this fun game where you can preview colored brace bands on a metal mouth. Anyone else used to change their bands for the holidays? I once did red, white and blue for 4th of July but then ate too much chocolate cake and spent the next five weeks with red, yellow and blue bands.

Friday, November 10, 2006

A Farewell to Pants

I'd like to share a little of my learned wisdom with my loyal readers: when you spill coffee on your pants during your morning commute and proceed to blame your employer for forcing you to wear pants in the first place, it's probably time to leave your job. And that's exactly what I have done. Well, I'm still here through mid-December, but I filed my official letter of resignation yesterday. And hot damn, am I excited to begin my new life... you guessed it: without pants.

Those of you who know me well have probably seen me naked. Not because I'm an exhibitionist or have posed (completely) nude for anyone, but because I just don't like to wear clothes -- especially pants. So, I've decided that from this point forward, the majority of my income will come from jobs that don't require me to wear pants, like writing, and website design -- things I can do from home.

Sure, in the beginning, I'll have to shop a little less and have fewer dinners out, but hey, those activities require pants, so I'm sure the transition will be an easy one. In fact, not wearing pants will probably save me money. Since taking my 9-to-5 job a little over a year ago, I've spent hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars on freaking pants.

So, on Monday, December 11, my first day of freedom from the shackles of pants, I will be the guest of honor at my own Pants Free Party. Everyone's invited. Except the fat guy from the Borat movie. That guy should always wear pants.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

And I'm Proud to Be a Missourian

Let's face it: there are many reasons to not be so proud that I'm from Missouri. Number one would have to be our number one claim to fame — Crystal Meth. That's right, kids, eefers grew up in the Meth Capital of the World, Independence, MO. Then there's that whole John Ascroft thing. And who can forget all the teen pregancies? But sometimes, just sometimes, I'm so damned proud of my home state that I can barely keep from wetting myself, and right now happens to be one of those times. Not only did my homies elect a Democratic WOMAN to the U.S. Senate, they also voted in favor of stem cell research. Oh my god, I can't wait for the Michael J. Fox + Claire McCaskill aborted fetus stem cells to grow into the cutest clone baby ever!

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Grand Army Plaza is a Giant Vagina

Oh, yes, it is. [Standard Deviant via Curbed]

Taking Dating to a Whole New Level of Lazy

How desperate does one have to be, really, to get someone else to manage his online personal? From the Craigslist writing/editing jobs:
I need help writing my profile and writing responses to other people's ads using the online personals. Pay is $50 for the profile and $2 per response for writing to other people. If you're in my age range (18 to 30) and really social then please get back to me with why you think you're a good fit. You can work from home or from my office. I don't care but I want to get work on this project done immediately.
How lazy does one have to be to not only not want to get off his ass to meet women, but then to not even have the wherewithall to write his own personal ad and reply to the ads of people he finds interesting? How would that even work? I'd get a really witty email from this guy on Nerve then meet him and find out he's lazy, monotone and has the personality of a stapler?

Now, I know it does not indicate that this is a dude, but it has lazy, anti-social guy written all over it.

Don't Forget to Vote Today, Seriously

And, um, is it terrible that I think W was attractive as a young man? True, he was a Republican coke head and I wouldn't have given him the time of day, but his face wasn't so bad. Poor Laura. I wonder if she had any idea what she was getting herself into...

And Sometimes I Love It

It's no surprise to anyone who reads this blog that I hate, hate, hate midtown. Especially the particular part of midtown where my office happens to be located (the Grand Central area). So, imagine my joy today when I 1. came in not during the 8:59 rush, but at 10:30 because I Voted Today, Did You?, and 2. saw a homeless woman asleep in all her bare-bellied glory, on a chair right outside the fancy-pantsy Cipriani. No, that's not all folks, I passed her as her tributary of piss was making it's way to 42nd Street.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Can Someone Please Tell Me What This Means?

Last night I dreamt that I was charged with writing a fundraising letter for Mark Foley. Any dream interpreters (or wise asses) out there want to help me with this one?