Watch while I liveblog a hurricane

I wish it would go away. But I'm here anyway. I can't tell if it's hype or not that it'll be a Cat 5. If so, it will probably have been better for me to stay in nyc. but at the same time i'll be able to help out here.

if all goes well, this'll be Georges 2.0 and i'll be enjoying a sunny albeit breezy few days next week!

3 years to the date

what kind of dumbass gets in town in time to do Katrina 2.0?

oh...HI!

what the HELL am i doing? not canceling my trip--that's for damn sure. just call me Helen Hunt from Twister. i obviously have a penchant for lazing around a below sea-level bowl of a city while anyone with sense evacuates. i'll just sit around with my family eating MRE's and contemplating the impending doom that is rising waters and looters...again.

and this time I'M doing the beer looting because there is no way i can survive arguing with my parents about evacuating while sober. i am going to be trashed for this hurricane when it comes, huddled in my attic with an axe and some jack.

oh, what's that? don't mix your alcohols, MB?

well, this is not me on my way out the door to f&m's. this is me flying into Hell deep fried in Chaos and i'll mix whatever alcohols i damn well please.

Things That Are Yelled At Me On the Way To Work 2

The number of people who hit on you in the street is directly proportional to the teaspoons of grease you can wring out of your hair.

Or: Guys hit on you when you're gross.

And no, I don't put crisco in my hair. Please. I wash my hair in truffle oil. (gossip girl! stop!)

Ramone (or so I call him): Hey, hey let me say something. You are beautiful. In this whole city, most beautiful. Can I talk to you...every day?

Some people in this city move FAST!

Inapprops!

Things have gotten way out of hand when I almost answer the phone at work, "Good morning, Gossip Girl."

...

cut to a future employer asking my Cougar manager why I was let go. fade to montage of lights and glossed lips whispering into Cisco phones.



"Good morning, Upper East Siders. This is your one and only source for high quality lights that the priveleged, Vanderbilt-ringed skinny J. League-rs can afford. Here's where you can select the $60,000 chandelier whose sparkle will make your dilated, drunk-eyes wince while having that romp with your best friend's boyfriend. Oh, you want to know the lead time? That's something I'll never tell. You know you love me. XOXO. Showroom Assistant"


The scary part is I'm getting paid while I do this. Thanks for enjoying your long vacay in Saint Tropez and giving me nothing to do, Upper East Siders!

I hate swimming

Remember how I thought I'd need to go to rehab or get a really unhealthy obsession with some sport that I hate (like golf) to make up for the absence of the Olympics after August 24th?

Well thanks to NBC, I'M OVER IT ALREADY. Well...just with swimming. And effin Michael Phelps. Dude, I think you are an amazing athlete and I want you to do your best---but you know what could trump winning your 390239 gold medals? Taking out our NBC commentators with some deathly breast strokes. America will love you til the end of time.

God, I am so SICK of hearing about "how many" medals MP will win or how he's the "greatest Olympian of all time."

That last statement is bullshit. Do you know how many events they have in swimming? ELEVEN. So does this mean an athlete on our soccer team is less of an Olympian because they can only win ONE gold medal? It makes it look like that one medal that a person has worked a lifetime for isn't good enough. Why have one when you could have 11? It's like McDonald's--you can supersize it!

And don't you love how they shove all the other Americans aside while interviewing them after the relay swims? It's like "Oh, who are you? How does it feel? Good? Okay, so Michael---You're about to go and swim some more and get pimped out by NBC b/c we need some way to justify spending $2.2 billion on little athletes who aren't as well known as Kobe. You know? So give us a sound byte, so we can loop it over and over again til Americans are brainwashed into believing that you are GOD and we don't have to waste time covering other sports. Oh and Michael, tell me what you ate for breakfast this morning? And what's on your ipod? And where's your girlfriend? Can we expect any little Phelps' soon? How 'bout I stick a camera in your home when we get back to the states, mmmkay? Back to you, Bob."


I love America a lot--but someone has got to tell our journalists to chill out.

Dear America/NBC,

Seeing as the only medals our country has as of 8/11 are in swimming and fencing, it might not kill you to actually televise the sport that gave the USA its first gold medal win of 2008 AND the bragging rights of sweeping the women's sabre medals.

Fencing may not be basketball, but that's okay because we're too fast for them anyway.

MB

P.S.--i f'in luv the olympics and will require rehab come aug 24th

Things That Are Yelled At Me On the Way To Work

Old man, sitting on a stoop: "Oh My Gawd! You'se a baby! You looks like you could be in junior high!"

I guess I gave my age away with my caffeine-starved, "I'm late for a job I hate" crazy eyes.


That's me many years ago with my super dorky friend that I pretend not to know on the left and that's Mandy Moore on the right. If only I'd ditched the stupid tie and gone for the polo shirt look, I could've been as famous as Mandy :(

Custody battle

True story:


http://www.battleofmarianna.net/index.html

i scream!

i'm not going to complain about my job anymore. because if i complain, then it means i care. and i do not care for these light traffickers. or spoons: the things between the ice cream and your tongue.

just cut out the middle man. lick that ice cream. don't let the cold metal affect the taste.




onwards and upwards.

overhang?

i'm grateful for my friends who set me straight on the difference between crack and coke.

SHUT UP SIRENS. i have a headache. maybe a hangover. i can't tell but i feel weird. it could be the copious amounts of mexican food lard in my bloodstream or the margarita sugar high that i'm finally starting to come down from 12 hours later. I DON'T KNOW. but stop with the loud noises.


anyway, other things i'm grateful for: the dark knight. finally a summer movie that is worth the weird spelling of a word like "hype." hipe? ...eh, not so much. greeting a friend: oh, hye! bye! aye, captain! whye?

thank friday it's god. really because without the promise of the weekend, i wouldn't believe in god.

i'm dying at work, obviously. i hear spinach is good for hangovers.