Blondie Jokes!

Saw this in the Blondie archives on my Google Reader (yes, I totally subscribe to this stuff, and I adore it!) [And yes, I read the archives! Why? Wouldn't you? C'mon, it's Blondie!!]

HAHHA! :D

This image is taken from the Blondie comics strip featured on ArcaMax Publishing. So, please don't sue me!

Someone Will Be With You Shortly - Lisa Kogan (excerpt)

I'm reading Lisa Kogan's Someone Will Be With You Shortly, and I'm trying not to ROFL, so that I don't do further damage to my already creaky and achy bones!! Let me tell you, she is seriously funny! 

Note: I'm reading it for free - yes! Absolutely for FREE! - on Daily Lit. 

After I'm done with the book, I'll tell you about how good it was. Right now, I just want to share this gem with you...

"Chapter 5. What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

ABOUT THREE WEEKS AFTER my daughter, Julia, was born, I was standing in line at Russ & Daughters, a lovely little shoebox of a shop that's been serving the most exquisite Jewish delicacies ever since Mr. Russ loaded up his pushcart and headed for the Lower East Side of Manhattan in 1908. I was ordering smoked butterfish and nova, sliced thinner than angel wings, as the guys behind the counter plied me with samples of apricot strudel and raspberry rugelach. It was spring, my baby was healthy, Russ & Daughters had just put out their marble nut halvah, and all was right with the world.

I was experiencing what the late, great Spalding Gray used to call “a perfect moment.” Please note, Mr. Gray didn't talk about perfect days, he didn't even refer to a perfect half-hour stretch. Nope, he only suggested that there are moments when life is inexorably sweet, but those moments are few and far between—and generally over before you can capture them on the teeny camera in your ridiculously tricked-out cell phone.

The little old lady to my left decided to strike up a conversation. “So, how long have you been coming here, dear?” She smelled like Pond's cold cream and cinnamon, and I liked her immediately. “Well, ma'am, my aunt Bernice first brought me here when I was just a kid,” I answered between bites. She smiled warmly and told me she grew up right around the corner, on Orchard Street, and had shopped here since the 1920s. “I raised five children on this food,” she said, pointing to the baked blueberry farmer's cheese. We were soul mates in sable, partners in pickled herring; we spoke the language of lox. And that's when it happened.

My new buddy suddenly reached out her bony little liver-spotted hand, patted my baby-free middle, and asked the one question nobody should ever ask: “When are you due?”

I toyed with the possibility that she had some sort of death wish. Perhaps the question was actually a thinly veiled plea. I mean, isn't it plausible that what she was really saying was “I want to go out on a high note, so I'll just have a taste of chopped liver, and then do something so heinous that it drives this perfectly reasonable woman to club me to death with a side of salmon”?

You see, there are certain questions that must never be asked:

1. Has your surprise party happened yet?

2. How did you first learn that your husband is cheating?

And, above all:

3. When are you due?

I don't care if the woman you're asking is wearing a T-shirt with a giant rhinestone-encrusted arrow that points to her belly and reads BABY ON BOARD. I don't care if she's writhing on a gurney in the birthing room of Mount Sinai Hospital, screaming for an epidural as an obstetrician announces, “One more push and the baby will be out!” You never, let me repeat, never, ever, under any circumstances, ask a woman when she's due.

“June,” I replied.

Some people collect coins, some prowl the Internet for vintage guitars; I know a woman with a closet full of antique Kewpie-doll heads. I'm not totally clear what turned her against everything from the neck down—she may have been frightened by a Barbie breast as a child. But I'm nobody to judge, because I, too, am a collector. What I collect are slights, digs, withering remarks, and the occasional mean-girl glare. I examine a good when-are-you-due story from every angle, I trade them with friends, I commit them to memory, I savor them for eternity.

Here are a few of my favorite insults:

    * My old friend Alison remembers the first time she had her Hungarian husband's family over. She cooked for three straight days. The woman goulashed and paprikashed and even put her tomato sauce through a food mill, for God's sake. At the end of the meal, her new mother-in-law took Ali's hands in hers, looked her straight in the eye, and said: “I'm so glad you feel you can practice on us.” Ouch.
    * My former roommate Laurie came home with an A+ on her test and proudly handed the paper to her father. “Jesus,” he said. “I always thought you had to be really smart to get this kind of grade.” Kaboom.
    * My pal Faye tells the story of spending an entire evening with a guy she met when they both reached for the same stuffed zucchini blossom at a fancy fundraiser. He suggested they get together the very next day for a picnic in Central Park, and she was delighted to take charge of the fried chicken and potato salad. The next day she waited and waited. Nearly two hours, one drumstick, half a pound of red bliss potatoes, and five weeks of dieting down the drain later, Faye picked up the phone: “What happened?” His reply: “Well, I honked ... but you didn't come out.” Yikes.
    * I bring Jules to the pediatrician for her annual checkup. “Would you say she's unusually tall?” I ask, hoping that she'll someday be able to reach all the stuff her five-foot two-inch mother cannot. “No, she's average,” he replies, quick and to the point. “Are you sure?” I persist. “My friends all tell me that she's really quite tall.” The good doctor peers down his bifocals. “Maybe your friends don't want to tell you that she's really quite average.” Touché.

Forget about kids; grown-ups say the darnedest things. Sometimes they mean well, sometimes they mean to lacerate, sometimes they're just clueless. The challenge (at least for me) is not to take any of it personally ... even when it's meant to be taken personally. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, unless of course I decide to let them.

I've decided to stop letting them. I don't want to lock and load when a nasty comment comes my way, but I also refuse to duck and cover. Instead, I am going to answer clumsiness with equanimity, bitchiness with compassion, and verbal violence with disengagement."

Of Morning Walks and Monologues...

I walk to work everyday (the most misleading thing I have said all day!). And when I say 'walk to work', I don't mean a brisk 1-mile trudge that keeps me healthy and fit, and looking 10 years younger. Nope. The daily morning walk to work takes me a measly 8 minutes!! Totally not beneficial.

So, anyway, I walk 'briskly' every morning, and I'm usually having a happy, interesting conversation with someone....usually myself :(

And this is how it goes...

"Okay, hon, stepping out right now...you're already late...you have 8 minutes to clear an 8 minute distance....Are you going to do this? Hmm...we'll see...walking. walking. walking. step. step. step. looking good baby! Walk, walk, walk....

OOOUUUCChhhhh! What was that?...Something went 'click' in my knee! Okay, ignore it, keep going...Limp, limp, limp....ok, better now...walk, walk, walk...

Oh cripes. There's the Cake shop across the street! Mmmm...nice smells...yummy smells...

(looking at watch) Do I have time to step in for a quick purchase? Okay, Do I NEED the extra calories?? No, and No...for God's Sake Jane, NO!! Geez!

Okay, walk, walk, walk, walk...TRIP! Shucks! Who put the stones in the way?!?!

Okay, nothing happened...no one saw you hon..keep walking, keep walking...you have time...(looking at watch) OH CRAP! I have only 3.5 minutes...where did all the time go, darn it?!?!?!

Okay, keep walking...no ditch that...I think it's time you started running! Oaky, run, run, run..."Run, Forrest, Ruuunnn!" Okay, grow up...Do you really need the "Forrest Gump reference now?!?!

Ooh, nice new shirts on display at the Men's Clothing store on the way!...Hmph! Ignore it! Stupid stuck up clothing store...probably too expensive! Sour grapes...blah, blah...

Oh good, finally at the office building...(looking at watch [for the umpteenth time, even though it does NOT help!!]) Oh cripes...1 more minute...

Okay hon, now you have to climb 4, Four, FOUR floors...Sheesh people, lifts were invented for a reason, you know..Anyways, it's the only exercise you get all day!! so, CLIMB already!!

Climb, climb, climb, no..scratch that...RUN, run, run...

What the...people walking up the steps are getting there faster than me! Shucks.

Run, run, run...GASP, GASP, GASP!! Run, run, drag your feet, stomp, stomp.....crawl, crawl, craaaaawwlllll......Wheeeezz, wheeezz, wheeezzz....cough, cough!

(Drumroll and trumpets blaring) I MADE IT, I MADE IT...YAAAAY!!!! And heck, I have 5 minutes left on the clock!!!!!

"WHAT?!?!?!?!?", you ask?

Well, this is precisely why I set every, and I mean EVERY clock 10 minutes ahead, so that I think I start out 10 minutes early, and half way through I think I'll be on time, and then I assume that I am already 5 minutes late...and PANIC...and when I reach, It's a nice surprise to know I am 5 minutes early!!!

Now ain't that wonderful...fine and dandy!!........................................

.................Aw, shucks....sometimes I don't even recognize myself....!

Somebody bring back the 20 year old Jane, please!

What I wanna be...

What I really am...

HELLPPP!!!!!

GrooveShark - Killer Music!

I love me some real good music through out the day... There are around a gazillion music CDs lining the shelves of our humble abode, and not one of them belongs to me!! You can see who's the minority here! So, we got HillSong - the whole series they EVER released. Then we've got some Tamil Spiritual Lyrics, some weird classical western music CDs that I can never enjoy, no matter how hard I try...(on such days I'm sure my husband is asking himself, "Ok, someone remind me again, why did I marry her?" But really, I just cannot feel anything when I hear a million violins scratching it out, cymbals clashing, and drums acting like they are the voice of God!!! Nope. It does nothing for me.

Anyway, what I like is The Corrs, Enrique Iglesias, ABBA, BoyZone (even tho' they are so 'yesterday'...), BackStreetBoys (don't laugh, I love their music), and nice melodies like that. No hard rock (GOD, NO!) and no heavy metal (Over my dead body...no, not even then!).But hey, I love country music! Of course, nothing beats A.R. Rahman's music (a little patriotism, and lots of love for his talent, I guess!).

So, downloading these songs from YouTube is a pain..blame it on slow Internet connections. And here I am, one day, craving music, with YouTube downloading a song for so long that I grew an entirely new gray hair! So, I go on an Google for websites for music, easy to download and all that.

AAANNNNNddddd....(drum roll, please)....I discover...Grooveshark.com



Now, I love, love, love this website. Why? Firstly, it has all the music you can ever want to listen...although it is only western music...but hey! at least that is easily available, right? Second, the songs download so quickly!!! I cannot believe how efficient the download is! Thirdly, it has a lot of other cool features...now, I really haven't checked out this website completely, but added features are your thing, you should certainly go check it out.

And so, days go by, and I'm like really enjoying my music at home..I play my favorite play list, set the speakers on full blast, and listen to music while I work...and I am in pure music heaven.

And then, I feel, "Okay, maybe I can share this information with my husband..I mean, after all, I am married to him, to love and to hold, and share cool stuff that we find on the internet! So, I tell him one day, "You know what? There's this really cool music website which plays all kinds of music, and downloads really quickly...I mean this is better than YouTube!" And he's all like "Uhuh! Whatever..."

Next day he casually asks me, "Jane, what is that website you were talking about?" and I tell him.

Next minute, my blood curdles...because what do I hear???

THIS!!!!!



WHAAA.... are you KIDDING ME?!!!

Note: Okay, this is from YouTube because Grooveshark is occupied by my husband!

...Till death do us part, I guess...sigh!

But, I still love Grooveshark, mind you, and that's why I entered this post in "Things I love Thursday" over at DiaperDiaries.

Unresolved Hair Issues!

Remember the discussion on Debbie's hair we had the other day... well, apparently, there is a shift in perception of late...

Today morning, I looked at Debbie's hair, and patting the wild curls, I asked her, "What is this, baby?"

With a wide grin of amusement (perhaps she anticipated my reaction!), she uttered these words of wisdom, "Amma, this is noodles!"

Wide grin of amusement:



Go figure...