photo credit: Loren Javier
One of my favorite fictional characters of all time has to be Eeyore, the glum little grey donkey of the Winnie-the-Pooh series. I dream of employing regular sarcasm with such unfailingly dry, pitch-perfect delivery.
Here are a few of his (or, actually, A.A. Milne’s) gems: Read the rest of this entry »
Ever notice how certain cities, like New York, Boston, and Washington, DC, have more nail salons per block than Starbucks? And they offer cheap, quality services—on certain nights of the week, your mani and pedi might even run you less than your fancy caffeinated bev and pumpkin bread snack. And it will sure as hell last you longer.
On the other side of the coin we have places like my parents’ neck of the woods in Florida, where strip malls feature a higher ratio of hospital equipment stores and check-cashing venues to spas or cofffeshops. It all depends on where you live, I suppose.
photo credit: Zeusandhera
Today I’m feeling a little bit Monday. Chalk it up to being away all weekend and, yes, maybe drinking a bit too much and working out too little, but I woke up sleepy, cranky, and generally out of sorts. Even though, really, life is not so bad.
Still, when some overweight middle-aged goon tried to hand me one of his “Obama as Hitler” pamphlets, I nearly kicked it out of his fleshy paw. I managed to control myself, however, offered him a murderous glare, and continued the trek to my sometime office, where I got an ice coffee, dialed in for a conference call, and crankily listened for my 5 minutes of the status report.
photo credit: The Ardvaark
This week started out right as rain. I was clean as a whistle, sober as a Baptist. I worked out for three days straight, challenging myself with such grueling physical punishments as abs class, kickboxing, circuit training, and not drinking for 4 consecutive days.
I felt self-righteous, diligent, well-meaning … and it’s amazing how much easier it is to get up in the morning when your face isn’t smushed up against an empty wine bottle.
photo credit: Kevin Labianco
I’m in D.C. now. Yeah, YUD gets around. Why not? I have the time.
At any rate, D.C. is the town that I lived in as an undergraduate, attending the refined Jesuit institution known as Georgetown, despite the fact that I am neither Catholic nor religious. One of the best things about being taught by priests, however, besides the consistency of their dress code and lack of temper tantrums, was that they were endlessly forgiving.
Before I realized that I was really just not a morning person, I took a series of 8:15 and 8:30 classes, among them Chinese (don’t ask). And I would inevitably do the nod & bob for half the class and intermittently fall asleep. My notes from that period were a trail of scrawl.
Having a prescription refilled, you would think, would be an easy task. I mean, it’s not brain surgery—it’s just the medicine you take after your brain surgery.
The hard part should be snagging an appointment with the doctor of your choice, or the interminable wait in one of those cold rooms wearing a very last-season paper gown and trying not to get caught as you rifle through the cabinets, or maybe convincing the doctor that you need whatever it is in whatever dosage and then trotting that scrawl-covered snip of paper over to your local pharmacy.
Once you’ve done that, you’re golden … Right?
photo credit: johnmarchan
It bears occasional reminding that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Such is the case for old-fashioned tube televisions with built-in VHS players, for jobs, and even for cities.
Take YUP, for instance. He seems to be happy as a clam, or at least as happy as a recent transplant from a sunny continent to a rain-drenched isle can be.
© Judd Marcello
Release the Hounds
The one good thing about being unemployed in London is being unemployed in London. I am so busy keeping busy I haven’t had time to start the job search. There is so much to experience and explore here that I wonder why anyone would want to work in the first place!Apparently I am not the only one who feels this way.
photo credit: Chris Blakeley
Today, I’m going to give you some bad news when I give you your good news. It’s that kind of Wednesday. And you’re gonna like it.
Remember how M. Poppins once said, “Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”?
This morning, as I was heading over to the coffee pot for a fresher-up, a song popped into my head … a song you might remember from a movie digitally remastered during your youth, and that is, of course, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Ignoring the more obvious social implications of this film—Snow White gets in with the dwarves, who she first assumes to be a group of messy orphans, through her cooking and cleaning prowess, becoming their mom/wife figure; they in turn assert their collective manhood by preventing several of the queen’s nasty plots and eventually hook their gal up with a hottie who can pay her bills—let’s consider our dwarves and their occupation.
