i've been a good girl this year

dear hannukah harry,


please don't be pissed that despite being a relatively uninformed jew for the past thirty years i still don't know how to spell chanukka.

and also, please don't think i'm a sellout because i have a christmas tree and a menorah. that tree is so pretty and when i put a piney scented candle near it, it makes me feel all forresty and wintery.

hanuka candles never smell that good.

now that i've gotten that out of the way, i'd like to ask you to pretty please hook me up this year with a new phone. you see, the last one you got me was a little outdated, and never really got good reception.


plus it started to rust after i dropped in it the snow.

so the next year i went over your head and got myself a stylish new phone all on my own. it looked like this:


but then i dropped it into a pot of watercress soup at work and it smelled like sour cream ever since that day.

the one i got to replace the soupy phone wasn't much of an upgrade and now tends to shut off automatically when it gets mad about all the baby drool on it.

i can't say i blame that poor phone. i wouldn't want to drooled on either.

what this all comes down to is simply that if you can find a way to get me a phone that performs better than little miss's table-top phone, and even has a decent camera on it, i promise you won't regret it.

there are so many wonderful things i can take pictures of and text to you that would make you smile. the other day i saw a portrait of a man who had just told a really dirty and inappropriate joke and he was waiting for me to either crack up or smack him. i really, really wished i had a way to capture that moment and share it with you. but alas, it was not meant to be.

together, hannuka harry, you and i can change the way i share crazy with the world. i'll even make you some of the best latkes you'll ever have. if that's not enough of a bribe for you to help a girl out, than i don't know what else i can do. i'd hate to resort to threats because they take so much work, and frankly, i'm too lazy for that shit. i'll just say, do yourself a favor harry, for the sake of your reputation, please don't cheap out on me. the world is watching and the ball's in your court.

i'm ready and waiting, your time starts.....NOW!


thank you and good day. with deepest regards,

lana

don't make me stick a strawberry up your nose

to anyone who is planning, thinking of planning, or might ever in the next twenty years plan a catered event, if you make me plate up this strawberry monstrosity i will guarantee that you will never want to see another strawberry for the rest of your life.


please excuse the drawing, i wasn't exactly in the mood to take photographs the last time this asshole dessert and i were together. it might look all sweet and refined on the outside, but really, it's just that mean bitch you knew growing up who thrived on taunting you ceaselessly.

maybe a dessert can't call you dumb, but it sure as hell can make you look dumb when you have exactly twelve minutes to assemble a few hundred plates and ole strawberry shit decides to have ten million components.

enough with all the specific timing bullshit too, you dumbass dessert. the mousse has to temper but not too long or the ice cream will melt, the panna cotta has to be chilled so that the soup can be poured over it warm, mint oil last so it doesn't bleed into the sauce....AAAHHH!!

ok. i feel better now. sometimes i just need to let it all out.

even though this pain in the ass is on the menu for my shift at work tonight, i'm also working with hook-up chef. actually, i think he's officially slutty chef now that he's moved on to hitting on barely legal waitresses in front of the whole kitchen. regardless, he's sure to provide some form of disturbing yet engrossing display of inappropriate behavior to make me forget all about strawberry shit, for a little while anyway.

on that note, i hope everyone has a fantastic holiday weekend! i know i will, labor day means octoberfest is right around the corner!

ps. i'm still working on my blogtastic giveaway, but i haven't forgotten. i'll have info and pics soon!

bambi doesn't want to see your junk, and neither do i

i love to go hiking, whether by myself, with monster by my side, or just with some friends. i have been to many local parks and mountains nearby over the course of my years and have almost always enjoyed the feeling of being close to nature.

there was that one incident at weird mountain, but that's not where i'm going with this today.

no, today i'd like to talk about how hiking can be a pleasant experience, with your clothes on.

this morning, the one article that jumped out of my monitor and slapped me in the face was the one in which i read 'hikers who prefer clothes are not happy.'

now, i'm all about letting people decide whatever lame annual events they want to participate in, but just because there's a naked hiking day, doesn't mean that you can hate on me for wanting to walk through the woods with my clothes on.

i love natural crap as much as the next person, but you'll never find me using the summer solstice as an excuse to pretend i'm chilling with pan or diana, traipsing around in the buff.

and don't even try to pull that whole 'but it's easier to spot deer ticks' argument with me either. i can check for ticks just fine by pulling up my pant leg.

no, you silly nude hikers, you have no grounds to label me. in fact, it is i who can call you names. how about pedophile? do you like that one? because that's what you're going to be known as if someone spies your junk swinging in the breeze if they happen to be out hiking with their children.

if communing with nature was something that made you feel strongly enough to free yourself of your material shell on one specific day, than perhaps you should look into one of those off-the-grid habitats where your blatant disregard for social norms will be more accepted. that way you can go all out, literally i guess, if you wanted to.

and now, because i can, i will show you some pics of hiking + clothes + happiness.






even monster is smiling in these pics. you can't argue with that happiness.

if i knew how to make a fancy fireworks display, i would do so now

at this very moment i find myself succumbing to the inevitable boob sweat that will plague me for the rest of my days, and also to the fact that during my brief respite from everyday busy-ness i will end up sitting at my computer chugging coffee like it's going out of style.

on this cheery sunshiney morning i can only think about how amazingly awesome it's going to be to have b around for a long holiday weekend. and since i should be doing something else instead of blogging right now, i will offer up a small list of things to look forward to this weekend:

1. not working with dick chef (sexist asshole who won't let me get near a heat source because that's for menfolk)

2. any and all time spent with family so that i can pass off the baby and drink a shit ton of beer in the middle of the afternoon

3. getting out of the house and away from monster's incessant barking and therefore not have to hear myself yell 'shut the fuck up you stupid mongrel' every five minutes

4. eating more hot dogs than i want to count

5. allowing myself to pretend that someday i'll be able to own the boat i've always wanted and picture myself out on the river basking in the sun (as i watch every other assclown in the hudson valley out on their boats that they probably don't even appreciate as much as i would)

6. finally getting a pedicure so that when i wear my flip flops you're blinded by fluorescent orange nailpolish and don't notice how big my big toe really is (or how sad my little nubbin of a pinky toe is)

and i think that might be more than i can handle this weekend, but i'm damn sure going to try. i know this holiday is really about commemorating those that have given their lives in battle, but there are plenty of americans who may not have died but gave of their lives when needed. on that note, i want to thank my brother, a veteran of the iraqi war, and all others for doing what i know i never could. THANKS FOR BEING STRONG FOR ALL OF US!!!

that's it, i can't take anymore!

little miss pulled out her cuteness reserves for this pic as my mother's day present.

sneaky little thing. i thought i had seen all of her tricks and she comes up with this. where does she keep all that cuteness in that tiny body? i don't think i'll ever know.

a message to the kid walking alone who thought it was cool to verbally assault me

ok kid, enough with this bullshit. i know you're only about eight years old and all, but that doesn't give you free reign to be a punk-ass.

i'm not even going to waste my breath talking to you about respecting your elders, nay respecting people in general, but i will say that you're damn lucky you're not my kid.

and when did you learn that that oh-so-irritating teeth sucking sound is an appropriate response to hearing something you don't want to hear? that's almost worse than when you called me a 'lying bitch.'

i think it's high time you took your little tush home and begged for your mother's forgiveness and professed your undying love and support for her and all the things she does for you. maybe give listening to her a chance, there could be some valuable information there.

then again maybe not, i did find you wandering dubois st. at nearly ten pm on a thursday night.

anywhoooooo, at the very least, if you're going to ask a stranger for money, try using the 'my family has no money for food so they send me out to the streets to beg' routine. it will get you worlds farther than the 'hey lady, you got fitty cent i can hold?' bit. even though i know you're only going to use that fifty cents to buy a *gasp* sugary soda at the corner store.

that is all.


ps. tell your mother i said happy mother's day for me.

show your green

it's that time of year again, when everyone needs the very slightest of excuses to distract from the hum-drum routine of eagerly awaiting spring. catholics observing lent, school children staring longingly out of windows, desperate for a chance to play in warmer weather, and ordinary people who have reached what they thought to be their threshold for the dreariness of winter many times over. these, just to name a few, are people who embrace the celebration of saint patrick's day.

saint patrick's day is that day that i (as a non-christian) have always associated with binge drinking and ugly green foam top hats. sure i had heard the story about some snakes hundreds of years ago, but i neither entirely believed it nor questioned it. i can't be the only one. after all, it comes about just as the cabin fever of winter has nearly scrambled your brain into unrecognizable mush, so who really cares?

well, this year, i decided to actually read (i mean, google and browse two articles) about saint patrick, the man. what i learned was that saint patrick is seen as being a key figure in converting the native irish to christianity. he is credited with tactically blending pagan and christian symbols to ease the transition. one example being the 'celtic cross' in which he placed a sun, a powerful image for pagan irish, in the center of a christian cross.

so how did this day change from commemorating a momentous religious accomplishment to present day guinness-chugging and leprechaun loving? it's all about the timing. if patrick had died in december, he would not receive nearly as much tribute, at least here in america, while people are stretched between thanksgiving and christmas/hanukkah. but now in march, the celebration of patrick's life and mission, can be ever-indulgent.

the parades, honoring saint partrick for nearly 300 years, the wearing of green to show loyalty to the roman catholic church, and the eating and drinking of traditional irish fare, have become a spectacle for people of all races and religious backgrounds to join in and release pent-up energy. anyone can be 'irish for a day' right?

does the secretary in your office, wearing her green cardigan passing out green jellybeans, have a true connection to the man and his life's work? most likely not, but instead, wants to get up out of her cubicle for ten minutes to show her peers how much she 'cares' about the triumph of the church over false beliefs. greeting card companies have mass-produced trinkets in every price range to allow anyone to declare their heritage with a faux crystal shamrock pinned to their lapel. it would appear that commercialized holidays are big business here in the u.s.

now, i may sound hypocritical, seeing as i've had my share of drinks on many a march 17th, for no reason other than having some drinks. but i do wish that we could call it as it is. this day is not declared a national holiday here in america. banks and schools are still open. and so we should at least say what it means to us, a day to party and revel in excesses, rather than delve into our most pious behaviors.

perhaps we already do, and that would explain how i made it nearly 30 years without knowing exactly what saint patrick's day was all about. so c'mon now, pick your poison! will it be guinness or jameson's for you?

note: in no way would i attempt to discredit the millions of people of irish descent who have a right to celebrate such a major turning point in their history. i will, however, comment on how many americans, myself especially, perpetuate the very fact that this holiday seems to be stuck in a land of limbo.