Yeah, Eric!

We're really lucky to know Eric. Just thought we'd remind you.

(This concept was stolen from fuckyeahryangosling.tumblr.com.)

Don't Touch Me There, Please

Thanks to Pooh, Piglet, and friends, you too can know how to handle yourself the next time you're in the subway and someone brushes up against your butt. Or when you finally go to bed with that special someone and they try and get all up in your bathing suit area. Or even when you're at a fancy party with an open bar and someone tries to put their knee in your crotch. Especially if that person tries to hit you with 'tricks*' like "I'll murder you AND your family if you tell anyone I kneed you in the crotch**."

Thanks, Pooh Bear. I can now feel safe in the subway, at the bars, and in my own tiny twin bed.

*Please note 3:10
**Thanks to a certain pot-head for this video

Virtual Condom: Mother's Day is a Sham

I can remember one time on Mother's Day I lamented to my mom that there was Mother's Day, Father's Day, but no Kid's Day. I remember her quick and slightly bitter/angry response: "EVERY DAY IS KID'S DAY."

My mom's not the only one with unappreciative offspring. On my community boards at work, we posted a question: What Was the Worst Mother's Day Gift You Have Ever Received? Check out these awesome answers, that really shine light on this sham of a holiday that is Mother's Day. ("Hey Mom, you snipped open your vagina for me. I made you some pancakes. Are we even now?")

FYI: the countdown to Mother's Day is 13 Days.

"My ex-dh told me on my 1st MD that I really did not need aanything and bought himself $300 spekers for his truck, and flowers, card and stuff for his mom. So it hurts a little. This year I will probably buy myself flowers and plants for the garden, if we have the $$$ too. So Mother's day is just a day where i sit and cry inside." daisymay

"Today, Mother's Day, was a very upsetting day for me - we all went to church without barely a peep from anyone. I would have simply enjoyed a kiss upon waking up and a "happy mother's day" - I got nothing until I started moping around. Then my dh walked in with a "we were supposed to give this to you earlier". I knew he had signed the kids names on the card in the kitchen only moments earlier. He got me a gift card to a store I shop at once a year (if that). I was devastated and don't know what I have done to deserve this today--- and at this point at 6:30pm, he still has yet to utter the words "Happy Mother's Day"." maschmayhem5

"how about hearing from your mom that your brother is her only child b/c he bought flowers? that sucked. mother's day is actually a terrible thing. it's worse than christmas, and christmas is pretty bad! even if you prepare yourself and don't expect anything, every thing will remind you that people are supposed to be showering you with love. then you have to continue telling yourself it's alright and maintain mental health, pretty much for the whole month of may. just another freaking problem to deal with. i'm sure i'm not the only one who wishes it didn't exist." okasachan

"I have to say, I only have had a few mothers days, but this last one yesterday was probably the worst. it started out really well, I woke up took my daughter to my sister house where my other sister and mom were, we made some jewerly (a side business that we do for fun) and chilled. The we wne to Horton Hears a Who, in the theatre. While my husband was home with our son cleaning. It was kind of nice, my daughter had a a hard time sitting in the movie but over all it wasn't too bad. When I got home my daughter fell asleep in the car and when I woke her up to put her in the bed. Thats when it started, way over tired, she was crabby and could get back to sleep. So she cried. My sons I teeth are coming through so he was pretty unhappy. and to top it off we had his family over for dinner. I pretty much cleaned up the mess of dinner, had two very crabbly kids to handle, I think they overstayed there welcome a bite, they stayed till till 9:00pm which didn't leave much of cuddleing time with my hubby and I. I was exausted so I went to bed at 9:30. I know is really isn't that bad. But I am just very frustrated that I didn't have more help from his family." kfiedler

"I've never had a good mother's day. My husband doesn't see the point in it so he doesn't celebrate it. But this one is probably been the worst. My grandma passed away Thursday night, and Saturday we were served with an eviction notice. Woo f'in hoo." twiceblessed

Another Virtual Condom: Screaming Children

Another Virtual Condom: Episiotomies

Christmas IS pretty sexy

My co-worker Jesse gave our team a presentation on Online Trend Spotting and this graph charts Google traffic for the search terms SEX and CHRISTMAS. Obviously people have Christmas on the brain during the holiday season, but sex, too? I don't think I want to know this much about people.

You can follow Google Trends, too! It's sort of awesome.

Paul Rudd on Sesame Street

I think I already proved the point that the more round you are the more lovable. But I didn't know I could love Paul Rudd more than I already did until I saw him perfectly round. As is, as spherical as the Earth. With the added bonus of singing happily. Happy Earth Day!

Umbrellas Are Antiquated

Yesterday, it rained very hard for a very long time. And as Lauren put it, I was one of the .01 percent of New Yorkers without an umbrella. As I was sprinting home with a jacket over my head (hard to do), I wondered, "How, in this day and age when we have things that can tell what song is playing on the radio, are we still using upside down baskets to protect us from the rain?"

I really think we could come up with something better.

Confusion About Cleveland Rocking or Sucking

Does it rock?

Or is it merely the "Perfect Place If You're A Douchebag?"

I dunno, but next time I go home, I hope I see "This Guy."

Why Disney World Kicks Ass #7: It's Effing Scary

When I tell people I love Disney World but have never been to Universal Studios, which is merely miles away, they often say, "Why don't you go to Universal? The rides are way scarier." Duh. There isn't anything less scary than The Hall of the Presidents. But I'm not going for scary. I'm going for awesomeness and wonder and hot French waiters, and you know, if you've been reading these posts.

But every time I go on the Rock 'n Roller Coaster I think I am going to have a heart attack. It goes from zero to like 90 mph in quarter of a second -- but what's scarier is the speaker next to your ear blasting a wailing Steven Tyler -- "ARE YOU READY TO ROCK N ROLL?" (It's an Aerosmith-themed ride.) So after all the scary stuff, you listen to "Dude Looks Like A Lady" and go through some fast and fun, but pretty tame flips and dips.

Then you go see the photo they took while they were blasting your socks off and see how stupidly scared you were.

Why Is This So Funny?

"You Got It, Baby Village People"

In the midst of all of the tea-bagging, tea parties, and "Obama Bin-Lyin" bashing as of late, I think America has really lost sight of what is important about Tax Day: kids in ironic and borderline racist costumes. Thank goodness some parents have the sense not only to dress their kid up as a good ol' fashioned injin chief, but also to allow their children to make an informed decision about taxes.

Point being, the VH1 franchise "Best Week Ever" compiled a list of The 14 Catchiest Tax Day Protest Signs, just in case you couldn't make all the tea parties in your area. My personal favorites? #13. Stimulate Not Business Government and #6. Don't Tread on Me (is this even relevant?).

Things to take away from Tax Day 2009: stay out of this lil' injin's piggy bank. Seriously.

"America Doesn't Know What Is Beautiful Anymore"

My mother sent me a link to the following video of "Britain's Got Talent", the UK version of American Idol. The subject of the e-mail was "America Doesn't Know What's Beautiful Anymore." Word, Mamma. Watch this moving video of Susan Boyle. Pay special attention to the look on Simon's face. He is so happy he's wearing his little angel-face, instead of that nasty glare we usually see him give.

Susan Boyle Stuns Crowd with Epic Singing - Watch more Funny Videos

Would Susan Boyle have a chance on American Idol with that beautiful voice of hers? Or do we only pick people that look like this...

P.S. I think Susan Boyle is way sexier than Taylor Hicks. Ew.

Why Haven't I Seen This Before: Seal & Yamaguchi Entertainment Duo

When I heard Seal's "Kiss From A Rose" in the fourth grade I thought it was the most beautiful song I had ever heard. And competitive ice skating seems like it is just a real life version of Dallas, or more recently, Gossip Girl, i.e., full of over the top outfits and people sabotaging each other. And in this video Seal is wearing a white suit, singing live while Kristi Yamaguchi ice skates. He's even wearing a summer scarf and I think that makes his outfit more outrageous than Kristi's.

Why is this happening? I don't know.

How to Kick Some Afikoman Ass

I get so excited about Passover I almost pee my pants every year. I am just awestruck by the beauty, significance and tradition of each and every aspect of the meal. Who knows how long we've been performing Seders -- thousands of years, at least. The Last Supper was a Seder, so each time that I dip the bitter herbs in vinegar or spread mortar on my matzo, I am recreating an act of Jesus and connecting myself to the cradle of humanity. I'm serious.

But I am not Jewish. My family is Catholic, and my mom was pretty surprised to open the Gettysburg College catalogue and see a picture of me lighting the Shebat candle (I attended each Friday, as the only Gentile in Hillel, the student's Jewish organization at Gettysburg), but I explained to her that I hadn't converted -- yet.

I had been to Passover Seders before, but only at school, where the beitzah was served on paper plates and the Matzo ball soup was sub par. I never really cared -- it was all about the action (and kicking everyone's ass in finding the afikoman*) but I was really excited that this year my friend Amsterdam invited me to a real one, at his house. Real silverware and everything!

BTW, the afikoman is a half-piece of matzo which is broken in the early stages of the Seder and set aside to be eaten as a dessert after the meal. In some families, the head of the household hides the afikoman for the children to find, and rewards the one who finds it with money or candy. In other families, the children "steal" the afikoman and ask for a reward for its return. Either way, the afikoman has become a device for keeping children awake and alert during the Seder proceedings, until the time it is needed for dessert.

I had a really excellent idea to really spice up the evening:

1. Bring my own matzo and hide it in my pants. (Hopefully this is not too sacrilegious.)
2. When we are instructed to go search for the afikoman, pretend to get all stressed out and in-a-flutter about finding it. Move around some items around in the living room or something... but act quickly, because nobody else can find the real afikoman before I...
3. Pull the fake afikoman out of my pants and declare "Found it, suckaaaahhhs! Christianity, 1! Judaism, ZIP!"
4. Commence in victory dance (which resembles a touch down dance).
5. Make an acceptance speech, being sure to thank Jesus for helping me find it.

What do you think? Would I have gotten invited back?

SWF: Lindsay Lohan

Lindsay Lohan's eHarmony Profile from Lindsay Lohan

I love Lindsay Lohan. I love Mean Girls. And I even love "Confessions of a Broken Heart (Father to Daughter)" only semi-ironically. I'm really glad she went back to red hair and she obviously also celebrated the switch by making this video to show it off.

Virtual Condom: Episiotomies

I had to use the word "episiotomy" in a piece I was writing on pregnancy awhile ago, and I thought: I do not want to look that up. I can just tell it's gonna be gross. But I had to. So I googled it. It was by far the most horrific google experience I have ever had, possibly for the same reason Little Children bothered men way more than women.

I am going to offer the link below, in case you are curious. Which I'm assuming you are now? But I'm warning you. If you click it and throw up or something, do not blame me. Not only is there a cringe-worthy description, there is an image so graphic that I am positive your gut reaction will be, whether you have a vagina or not, to X the box away as quickly as you can. That is what I did. I was thinking am I going to get in trouble for looking at this page at work?

But then I remembered where I work.

And I refreshed the page and read it.

No really, you need to know what your mom did for you. Here is the link.

I immediately called up my mother, a bit outraged. "Mom, did you have an episiotomy?"

"Yeah, most people do."

"Why did you not tell me about this? Why did you not complain?"

"Oh please, you just do it."

"You just let someone cut your vagina open with SCISSORS and then stitch it back up?"

"Yes."

And that is the thing. They just do it and don't whine. But this is a big deal to me. I am not okay with this. Thanks, mom! Can I get you a coffee or anything?

Guys, Mother's Day is in 26 days. I'm just saying.

Another Virtual Condom: Screaming Children

My Non-Interview with My Never-to-Be Husband

Friday I non-interviewed the man I was supposed to marry, (along with his T-minus 4 days pregnant wife.) His name is John Bemelmans Marciano, and his Grandfather wrote and illustrated the Madeline series. I heard about John's newest book, Madeline and the Cats of Rome, and I immediately felt I had to meet this person. He had written a book about my three favorite things. Well, okay, I'll admit that a book about Jesus, buttcheeks and making out will never be written. Next best thing: Madeline, cats, and Rome. I wanted to write a story about him for the website I work for, wondering the whole time if anyone but me would find interest in this story, the continuation of Ludwig Bemelmans's masterpiece.

See, Madeline and I go way back. Every child has that book that they make their parents read to them 10 kabillion times until they memorize it and fool everyone into thinking they can read. Mine was Madeline. To this day, I can spew the rhythmic verses about the twelve little girls in two straight lines at a mile a minute. I become so intertwined with the characters that when I learned of God I was positive that God was Miss Clavel, and I imagined a huge Miss Clavel amongst the clouds, looking over me, all frightened about me, making me stand in lines, and brush my teeth. The reason that I was able to fall in love with the words and memorize them so easily is for the same reason people are drawn to the writing of Genesis or Gilgamesh. When you write simply and masterfully, it becomes a part of people that is so innate that memorizing it is easy -- it's as if the person is reciting the words as a personal memory, not a separate story on the pages of a book.

Sometimes when you mess with classics you really fuck things up. Like, they never should have made a live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie. But this book stays true to the most beautiful, distinctive aspects of the original, with added, unique charm.

The illustrations, which Marciano sketched while living in Rome, are eerily reminiscent of his Grandfather's Parisian sketches. And each scene brings to mind specific areas of Rome, down to an indoor market I used to go to every day on my way to school.

John never met his Grandfather, but his Grandmother showed him a trunk full of Bemelman's original sketches, which he adopted with his own writing for a few other children's books. Without having ever met his grandfather, John has completely revived his Grandfather's stand-out drawings and captivatingly entertaining poetry. John claims he's not even a poet, never studied poetry, but studied the rules of poetry that his grandfather adhered to in order to mimic the style. As for the illustrations, John made another seamless transition for his own book. When the original Madeline was written, colored illustrations were too expensive, so Grandpa Marciano drew most of them in black and white, over a yellow background. John could have afforded color but chose to stay there to the "deceptionally simple" outlines of his grandfather. He intertwined brightly colored pages when he wanted to slow down the story.

I sort of fell for him as he told me about this. He has a distinctive, long, strongly built and angled face and the exact mop of loosely curled, shaggy hair that I see on handsome-but-not-trying-to-be-Italians. He is somewhat lanky, comfortable in burnt orange cords and a sweatshirt. The room we sat in was under renovation and felt like a rustic cabin. Italian cookbooks were spread out across the counter and there was a bowl full of hearty slices of bread with heavy, almost burnt crusts that reminded me of the salt-less kind in Florence. There was a copy of the Iliad on the television set. His cat was curled up in a ball on his laptop. His wife was very lucky.

I wanted to take his picture for the interview, but got too nervous. I had trouble making eye contact with him at times -- he was so beautiful and talked in such a relaxing, hypnotic way. He asked me a lot of questions and one was, "so has working for a parenting magazine made you want to have kids or never?" I mean, hey! Who's interviewing who? I immediately looked down and sort of got red, pretty sure that meant, "do you want to start dating me and marry me and move back to Rome with me and have my children?" Awkward!!!!! So I just kept my face down, looking at the sketches he had plopped in my lap (which were beautiful and genius).

We did talk about fatherhood and whether he was nervous or not. (He's not.) I told him I felt like it was as torturous as Christmas for a 7-year-old at his house, except ten times suckier because you don't know when Santa is coming. He put his hands together and nodded with excitement. "I know!"

We talked about Italy, Rome. We liked the same places. Or grandfathers were from the same town in Italy and were probably in the same earthquake. We talked about our cats -- his make frequent appearances in his other children's illustrations. One of the cats in Madeline and the Cats of Rome is a spotted cat named Cacciopepe -- the best name ever. He told me I should adopt one in the alley behind his house and I've started looking for a spotted cat worthy of the name.

Somehow, pulled pork sandwiches came up. "I'm a vegetarian." "I am too, but I still love the smell of the barbeque sauce." Agreed. This continued -- he'd say something and I'd think, "I know, I know!" but would try to stoically write down what he was saying.

But we all know that I can never be stoic about anything, except maybe my taxes or my 401K. Truly John Bemelmans Marciano probably thought I was insane. Who is this girl, I'm sure he asked himself, who is so obsessed with Madeline she's practically crying, is laughing hysterically at the pictures I've drawn of cats, and is reminiscing about Rome like a Nam Vet? In my defense: 1) Madeline and I are soul sisters, as I've explained, 2) all cat-people laugh their asses off, against all logic, at the site of cats doing basically anything and 3) my time spent in Italy was the happiest of my life. So there.

And could he tell that I was practically in love with him, hanging on his every word, sold on practically everything he says and does? I hope not. He didn't seem to suspect my crush, and neither did his wife, who came in at one point, massaging her belly a bit nervously as she talked. "It's a girl," she told me. And when I asked if they had decided on a name, John said, "no, not anything we can put in print." I'm pretty sure that meant "I have decided to name her after you, but it would be too awkward to tell you in front of my wife." Wink, wink, John. It's okay, I'm honored, really.

I left, after talking about hardly anything I could actually write about, taking zero photographs, and forgetting to record the entire conversation to begin with. I was literally skipping down the street when I left, clutching the large yellow hard copy of "Madeline and the Cats of Rome" (which he signed, "For Lauren, such a pleasure to meet a fellow cat + Rome lover! Best, John Bemelmans Marciano") to my heart, like a dorky tween in Victorian days.

Consider this your Very Important Kal Penn Update.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

So I sort of spent a long time roaming the streets/ several different subways today seeing if I could find Kal Penn. He's on this crazy island, somewhere. I can feel it. This news is pretty exciting for me. With Kal in DC, we'll be in the same time zones = I smell true love. And although this might mean no Harold & Kumar III (possibly? those two jobs don't seem to be that harmonious) I am okay with that. This sounds like a totally awesome job.

Twitter is a bad addiction

You know how you really like to sing in your car? Maybe the music is on full volume, maybe you are fist pumping, or head thrashing at stop lights, and dancing really unsexily. Maybe the cd is Mariah Carey! And you think to yourself, "Man, this is so fun, I love singing in my car."

Remember when that was the end of the story? You just danced your way into your driveway and called it a day. But now you might either Facebook Interest, Facebook Status Update, or Twitter, "singing in the car/singing in the car with the windows down." (You or someone you know has definitely done this exact thing.)

It totally depresses me that we don't get gratification from the activity anymore, but instead from it's publicity. Now here is this funny video from Slate that mocks Twitter with "Flutter" -- a nanoblog.

16 Things Sorority Sisters Have Ruined for Me

(Don't worry: Puppies is not one of them.)

The other day I was telling my co-workers why I'm not a huge fan of Lent, and that the whole concept was pretty much ruined for me when my friend told me she heard a sorority girl say, "I have to give up peanut butter for Lent, because it is making me gain weight." That really made me want to run away from the whole idea of Lent. My co-worker Jess said, "sorority girls ruined Green Day for me," (this makes sense because I think she graduated when Green Day was self-destructing and being ruined by the radio and the masses, etc.) and I thought... there is a whole bunch of stuff -- potentially good things -- that I pretty much hate now because I identify them with lots of unpleasant Greek brother and sisters that I went to school with. And here they are. Add your own. (And like, don't get offended if you enjoy Tiffany jewelry or the continent of Australia. I'm admitting that these things are potentially awesome, but have been unjustly ruined for me. My loss.)

1. The pink/green combo
2. J Crew (entirely)
3. Nautical themes (particularly: anchors, whales)
4. The Greek Alphabet (oh, I don't know, say: Delta, Gamma, TKE whatever that stands for, etc.)
5. Hair ribbons
6. Being an asshole to cafeteria workers and maintenance people (oh wait, that was never awesome)
7. Giving blow jobs in bathrooms
8. Particular branches of rap music (the kind that only fosters an environment of people humping eachother)
9. Giving up stuff for Lent
   
10. Collared shirts
11. Large pearl earrings
12. Tiffany jewelry
13. Lily Pulitzer
    
14. The continent of Australia (the place where students who only want a partially exotic study abroad experience go to come back with their lame stories of being drunk on the beach and seeing lots of boobs)
15. Psychology. I have no respect for this field anymore, unless it is studied at a more prestigious level than liberal arts major.
    
16. Nelly's "It's Getting Hot in Herrrre" or "Bring Sexy Back"

The first rule of Cagematch

is you do not talk about cagematch.*

*I worked with baby photos all day. I couldn't help myself.

Party Like It's Palm Sunday, With Pepito Sangria!

Yesterday, Palm Sunday, kicked off one of the most exciting weeks of the year -- Holy Week. I. Love. Holy Week. I was too busy yesterday to post about it, weaving baskets for the poor out of the palms I collected from the many Palm Sunday services I attended (?), and also, I wasn't feeling very well for most of the day. I didn't initially know why, but I think it had something to do with the fact that stashed in my purse from the night before, I found an empty jug of Pepito Sangria, which I had purchased at a bodega the night before:

It tasted like ass but was fun to carry around, and it only cost $4.99. The cute bottle top made me feel very classy and old-timey and I plan to join a jug-band with it.
Anyway, in case you don't know, Palm Sunday commemorates the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem,when his fans welcomed him by laying out palm fronds before him. While Jesus was riding into the city on a donkey for Passover, on the other side the Roman emperor was entering in a procession, with all the pomp and power of the Roman Empire... banners, calvary, drums, etc. There are many things we can question about the Bible and its crazy ass stories, but I truly believe the story of Jesus' humble entrance into Jerusalem, and that the symbolic and stark contrast with the entrance of the Roman empire is not a fabrication, but very real.
If I had been in Jerusalem for this procession, I wouldn't have welcomed Jesus with lame-ass palms. I would have gotten one of those big foam fingers with Jesus written on it, and would have written "LIGHT OF WORLD" on my stomach. Maybe a couple of my friends and I could have choreographed a dance routine or something.

you butt <3 NY?

Today was one of the few perfect spring days of the year and I got to looking at photos I took in the city when I first moved to New York. Here are some of them. Sorry this is so cheesy. 

A shot of Coney Island last summer during the Siren Music Festival. We drank big beers and visited a booth giving away vaginal contraceptives that work like those mint strips that dissolve in your mouth. The Cyclone gave me neck pain for three days. 

Inside the New York magazine lobby. I snuck this photo when I went in for a job interview.

My friend and I parked our bikes in Red Hook somewhere near the Ikea. He went to go pee in a bush while I looked at cloud shapes.

Manhattan Bridge, my favorite bridge in my favorite park in NY.

Taken on the roof of the Met in the fall. You see a lot of walking feet in this place.

Why Disney World Kicks Ass #6: Flowers That Are Not Boring and Sucky

I didn't used to give a shit about flowers. They die. They're expensive. I don't like carrying them around. I generally don't enjoy spending hours looking at them. And I feel people often buy them for people without much thought. Ex: "My girlfriend is mad at me so I'd better buy her some goddam flowers."

But to see the flowers at the Disney World International Flower and Garden Festival in Epcot is to see Eden on Earth. They will make you give a shit about flowers if you don't already. The flower displays are so colorful they are almost cartoonish, and the topiaries Blow My Mind. The festival runs until May, my favorite month to go to Disney World because:

1) By this time of the year, I have endured months of shitty weather in the god-forsaken mess the North East becomes during the winter, it is a pleasant surprise to remember what the sun looks like and to see a bunch of bright, happy flowers.
2) There aren't a lot of children because hello: what kind of lame-ass parents take their kids out of school right before it ends? The last few weeks are when all the fun stuff happens -- plays, parties, etc. Cool parents yank their kids out of school in the middle of the school year, when it is shitty and hard.
3) It's not hot or humid enough yet that I have to take off my pants in the middle of "It's A Small World." Yet.

I love the Flower Festival so much that I'm going back at the end of April, but this time with my good pal Uncle Rico. (!!!) I have this image of us floating through my mind -- the two of us holding hands and galloping around the daisies and snap-dragons. And it will be so very beautiful! And awe-inspiring! And memorable! And we will be drunk.