Fantastic Email String

Original Email
> Quoting TW:
>
> > Hi, please find attached the latest Anderson Afternoon schedule. If you know of any companies who would like to sponsor an afternoon (maybe AMR or GAP-related?) , please don't hesitate to contact me. We've only got a few open slots remaining for the year. Thanks!
> >
> > TW
> > MBA Class of 2007

My Reply to All [or, my response to a completely different individual and email that somehow ended up as a response to all]
> -----Original Message-----
> From: femba-bounces [mailto:femba-bouncesOn Behalf Of Lindypants
> Sent: Tuesday, February 27, 2007 10:19 PM
> To: TW
> Cc: phd; femba; mba
> Subject: Re: Anderson Afternoon Schedule
>
> yeah, see the tension of choice b/t food and sex is a hard one. personally i think there are many times that i pick good food...

Response #1 (of approximately 15)
Quoting GB:

> Dude, how embarrassed are you that you probably accidentally hit "reply all" to this email and sent it out to the entire Anderson program! Hahaha... No worries, I'm sure everyone will think it is funny....funny thing is you are my year, but I don't think I've met you! Hahaha!

My General Response to Being a Total Jackass

>George - don't know you either, but I am SO sorry. It wasn't even meant for TW either. I don't know how it got sent actually. I'm so sorry!!!!

GB Writes Again:

>Hahaaha! Completely not a problem...I was laughing when I saw it actually! I felt bad...I was like "oh my gosh, she probably doesn't even realize what just happened" I just forwarded it to give you a hard time and give you a little smile! [thanks shit head] Hiliarious...we'll at least we all know that you like food more than sex! Hahahaha! ;) kidding... [right, thanks] Have a good day, and I'll have to meet you one day...probably graduation!

My thoughts
Well in all honestly I'm drunk right now. After all this wine I'm in no shape to type, at least not at the rate I appreciate. So I'll leave you with the email string I began earlier. And I think it makes me look like pretty much a huge giant idiot so I bet all things considered you are laughing. so enjoy. Laugh away. Enjoy the fact that it wasn't you. But know this: email mishaps can strike anytime, anywhere, to anyone. So watch out bitches.

Kids: Fat AND Arrogant.

So I'm in an AMR meeting today. See I'm the PowerPointer, that's my thing, it's what I do. So I'm tweaking slides and my counterparts are doing some market sizing stuff and then I have to pee. So I leave and I'm walking out of the lab but then get sucked into a conversation about if you're going on a first date with a girl and she lives totally not near you do you have to pick her up? But then my AMR group is like Lindy! We need you back here! So I go back...but turns out they didn't really need me, I don't know why they tore me away from such a productive convo, so instead I am reading email and g-chatting and I don't know what I was writing but Gmail picked up something which sent me to this article about a kid in the UK that is so obese (like nearly 200 lbs at the age of 8) that authorities are calling it abuse and threatened to take him away from his mother: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17366915/

Seriously, this is creepy! This mom is all, well he refuses to eat vegetables or healthy things. You know what? My kids will f'in eat what I give them. The dude is 8. He can't drive to the store and buy his own food. At 8 aren't you like learning how to read or something? Your kid can't drive, he can't read, he's practically armless, and you aren't able to control what he puts into his mouth??? That's sad. Now, the bigger issue at hand is that kids are alarmingly overweight and it's simply unhealthy. Hence, in sum - Kids: fat.

Now you think that fatness could contribute to low self esteem. Now let me stop myself for one moment and say this: I'm not trying to be totally mean here I'm just getting some thoughts out ok? And anyway, nice schmice. So, continuing on. After I read this article I seem some other MSNBC article about how kids are not suffering low self esteem at all. On the contrary! They're actually totally narcisissistic. I couldn't find the MSNBC link but here's the article on some other site: http://www.dailynews.com/news/ci_5312072

Ok now this article is about how we're pumping up kids' egos too much to the point where they're totally vain and narcissistic and it's going to make them terrible adults who have shallow relationships and can't love people. Or something like that. And the root of the problem is that they are in preschool singing "I am special, I am special. Look at me! Look at me!" to the tune of Frere Jacques. Truly. I read it in the article. So this means...Kids: arrogant.

I guess my point here is that America is now overrun with a bunch of fat arrogant kids with entitlement complexes.

I prefer to think that at the ripe age of 26 I don't fall into this generation of chubby narcissists. But to bring this back to relevance to my life, in my women in leadership class (which in another topic I could just tear it up with but don't get me started) all the speakers, and they're awesome so G_d bless them, seem to think that we're like 18. They're like, "we're looking for interns! be sure to think about that option when you head back to your dorm room to watch The Suite World of Zach and Cody tonight!" And I'm all, right. You totally know your audience. And then I'm thinking, shit, if they think we're all this young, they probably think we're in that chubby generation of narcissists!!! So anyway, that is just the kind of thing that I'm thinking about right now. No abnormalities here. Nope, totally logical train of thought.

A Whole Lot of Ugly

I don't typically devote entire entries to celebrities, mostly b/c I guess I don't usually have anything much to say on them that you can't read on blogs such as thesuperficial or mollygood which are super super amazing and are actually devoted to celebrities. No, I prefer to write about much more entertaining things, such as turning into my mom, or my parents' dog, b/c well, that is just how exciting I can be.

But, in honor of the fact that for the first time in my whole life I actually watched The Academy Awards nearly in their entirety, I think I shall today, devote an entire entry...to celebrities. Know why? Because last night they pulled out alllll the stops and put on some truly ridiculously ugly dresses. I was over at Sonny's, in the kitchen cooking up some strawberry shortcakes, and Sonny and Jen were just tearing apart the poor dresses. And I was like "hey now! surely they aren't so bad!!" How wrong I was... Let's start with what was most definitely the absolute worst look of the night: K Dunst.

Spideywoman: your bangs look like the ones I had when I was 5. They didn't look good on me then, and they don't look good on you know. Furthermore, your teeth look weird and I think it's cuz your red lipstick may be all over them, can't really tell, but they look jacked up. Continuing to the dress, first of all, collars like that have a place - and it's on oxford shirts. They aren't meant for evening gowns. Cutting edge? No. Ugly. End. Finally, you don't need to wear a feather duster. They actually have Hollywood Blvd shut down for the next two days cuz they have cleaning crews that take care of sweeping up the streets.

Gwyneth: Your dress is heinous in just about every way a dress could be heinous. The thing is, with you, I've always been flabbergasted. You never fail to pick the ugliest dresses, event after event. Case in point: does anyone remember this monstrosity???
You see, it's about playing up your best features. Gwen seems to like these things with sheer bodices that emphasize her boobies. Thing is, I don't think they are much worth emphasizing. And I can empathize - I'm a small breasted woman and I'm fine w/ that, but I don't typically make fashion choices that thrust my boobs out there and make them the highlight of my outfit. Anyway, Gwyneth - that brown dress is really ugly. Yuck. Next photo:
You: I don't know who the hell you are. But you were apparently at the Academy Awards, and I think you are wearing a wedding cake. A wedding cake from 1953 that was served up at the Holiday Inn. It didn't taste good and I wouldn't have eaten any. And I certainly wouldn't have worn it. Bad choice. You lose. Final fotog:
Anne: did you forget to take the wrapping off your dress when it arrived? No? You say that huge giant black velvet bow like the kind you wear on the back of your dress when you're dressing up for Christmas at age 8 is actually part of your look? Oh, ok then. My bad.

I'm sorry! I know it may seem to insensitive to dig in so heavily on these women, but seriously, you walk red carpets - they don't serve any purpose but for you to be photographed and videotaped. So you know you're being scrutinized. You also spend one bazillion dollars on one single gown, and with money being no object, I'd just figure that you could pull something out of your Valentino ass that looks good. Call me crazy. Ok then, I think I'm done. Picking on other people's clothing is somewhat exhausting! I'm out.

I guess it's inevitable anyway

So, first of all - 11:15pm, on a Friday - what the f is there traffic on the 10 and the 110 in both directions for? No I mean seriously, where the f are all you people going? I guess you're all going out which is nice, no I'm really happy for you, celebrate, please - but that many of you? In transit to celebrate? I don't understand.

Anyway what is more important here is that I think I'm turning into my mom. First off yesterday I go out to Marina del Ray in the afternoon (in the rain thank you) to pick up my computer from FedEx. So I get there and it's totally not there b/c I guess it's with a driver for pickup attempt number 2 and not due back until like 7pm. So I guess I should've read more carefully or some shit like that and it's totally not the guy's fault, but instead I am just a total bitch to him b/c I'm so angry i can't pick up my computer. And then I just storm out. And then I feel REALLY bad but what am I going to do? What is the connection to my mom you ask? She has a nick name sometimes...Mean Jane...she's sweet as pie if she likes you and stuff but you see sometimes she has a tendency to be a leeeetttlee bit nasty when she's irritated. So don't ever irritate her. Anyway, the move y-day, totally mean jane-esque. (oh for the record, I did pick up the laptop today and I apologized to the guy and he was very nice and then we bonded over my Le Tigre vest)

Continuing on with the theme. So then tonight I'm putting on my lipstick and what is it? Chanel red - Russet Moon to be exact. Jane is a red lipstick wearer and I have always hated red lipstick and found it so unbecoming, but I have now worn red two nights in a row and enjoyed it thank you - and the thing is...among Jane's extensive collection of reds, Chanel Russet Moon was included...so jane-ism number 2.

And, recently I bought a new perfume and I chose Clean Provence which is totally not Jane, but I very very almost bought Shalimar which is TOTALLY jane and hence, three similarities, all realized very very close together, hence I am becoming my mother. Yikes!

anyway moving on...so I just got home from dinner w/ Freddie and her parents (where my 2 favorite quotes of the evening from Mr. Freddie include: "I always wanted Katie to go to Westpoint" (if you know KFreds at all you totally are laughing right now and furthermore I just want to note I called her KFreds whcih is most simliar to KFed which is very very funny) and #2="You can't have ice cream with carrot cake. You definitely cannot. That should be illegal.") Only funny b/c it's funny to think anything to do with cake or ice cream would be illegal. Now, having said that, I am home and trying to make my computer work.

It's not. I'm on the loaner trying to work my newly returned HPiece of Shit which is NOT functioning. And you know what I had to do to it tonight? I had to put the hard drive back into it. I had to use a veggie peeler to unscrew the HD from it's external casing and then figure out to re-insert it. That could be why it's not working. But that does not make sense b/c all my files are coming up properly, it's just not working right. What the f. After all that hardware installation by me, and I def don't DO hardware installation work yet alone things that involve screwdrivers very often, and still no functioning laptop.

So then, I'll leave you with this. Last night on my way home from Hwood (saw Wicked which I loved but maybe that is b/c I adored the book and the original movie is in my list of top 3 fav movies of all time) I saw the following as a topic of discussion at a church: "Black Gay Men and Crystal Meth." Really? Does this constitute a topic of urgency? My that is niche. So niche. Dont' you think? Contemplate. Now then, my computer is still not working. Guess I'll have the pleasure of waking up, putting on my Russet Moon in the morning, calling HP, and being a tot. bitch to the outsourced tech dude that has the pleasure of speaking with me about my non-funcioning laptop. Better get a good night sleep before I do that...

Why I Do NOT live in Indiana

Seriously, how cute does Jack B look playing in the 16 inches of snow that fell in IN last week? I think he must be the most beautifulest dog in the world, but that's just my biased opinion, so don't let it sway you...but I mean, seriously, come on.

Anyway, yeah, so 16 inches of snow. It was like 20 below with the wind chill. Or something really close to that. Jack B - the snow looks good on it, and you can have it. Sheesh. You could lost in all that white fluff.

That said, this morning, while eating my fav breakfast which in case you didn't know is an English muffin (wheat) w/ cottage cheese, tomato, and Tabasco sauce, I got all smiley and realized that wow, I really did have a lovely weekend indeed. I rollerbladed, I hiked, I ate out, I went out, I cooked, I slept, etc. etc.

Oh there was also Friday night, but the thing is I can't really write about that b/c if I did I'd have to cut out the parts that you'd actually want to read anyway and then what'd be the use b/c it'd just be me being all like, "oh Friday night was crazy!" but you'd read it and be all like "wow, I'm sure it was crazy but you're just not giving me anything to work with here."

But anyway: I leave you with a question. Let's say, hypothetically, that you're at dinner, it's a fairly nice restaurant, but despite this fact, it has those paper table cloths and a small glass dish of colored pencils on it. And let's say you draw something harmless, say, your name with a heard around it, b/c you're 10. And then let's say your friend starts drawing penises all over the table. What is your reaction? Are you embarrassed? Do you yell at the busboy to "leave it!" when he tries to take away the plate covering the penis? Do you ask the two guys at the next table what they'd do in your situation only to have them laugh and then to have your friend laugh back and gesture wildly, knocking over her wine glass? This is all hypothetical of course, but I just wondered what you'd do in this situation.

Or how about this one. You're at a bar. And this dude comes up to you and apparently knows you and says he met you at a party over the summer. And then you realize who he is. Would you say to him: "Oh, yes, I remember you! You asked for my phone number and then never called!" Would you do this? I did. Seriously jerk boy. Why are you bothering to come talk to me at all? Is there a point? I think not.

So, that was random, but thing is, the Real Desperate Housewives of OC is on right now thanks to Veeve and I think it makes me random and perhaps just dumb in general, so I blame Veeve for the randomness and/or dumbness of this entry. Yes, that's what I think. My brain is turning to mush. Before that happens, I'm heading off to bed. night.

Make This It Tastes Good

Read this:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070215/ap_on_fe_st/hiccuping_teen_1
Weird, right? Thanks Winnie. I get the hiccups a lot you know. But the thing is when I get them I only get like one or maybe three at a time then they go away. No one ever knows what they are. Lots of times people say "bless you" after I hiccup. This is all irrelevant, but shit, can you imagine if u the hiccups for like 28 years at a rate of like 50 a minute? Or whatever the hell this girl is going through? I can't. Sure would suck.

Can I tell you how perfect today was? SO perfect. Had to be up in time for an 8am presentation, but as the prez was followed by brunch at Jack and Jill's it was a passable engagement. Jack and Jill's btw have I talked about how good that place is btw?? Most likely I have b/c typically if I really really really like restaurant I'll talk it up whenever I get the chance, even if it's not really appropriate or interesting to my audience. Anyway it's pleasant. I followed brunch w/ a little roller blading on the beach w/ Mikey and then returned home to make us some homemade limeades and soak up the remainder of the afternoon sun on my patio. Now kids, you know I cook but I don't think I ever really post recipes here but I am feeling inspired (actually I'm really not at all; I'm waiting for Freds to pick me up and she's taking for f'ing ever so I'm wasting time and writing up a recipe will take up some more time so here we go). Ok detour aside, next time it's really sunny out and you want something refreshing make this (for about 2 glasses):

--Do a simple syrup. 2 parts sugar to 1 part water, bring to rolling boil and cool. (I made 2 cups sugar one cup water and now I have a good amount on hand, it keeps, which is nice as they come in handy for lots of mixed drinks, such as mojitos, which as we know are most delicious)
--Juice about 8 limes and and 2 lemons. Strain.
--In a tall glass filled 1/2 way with ice, add about 4 tblsp simple syrup, then split the citrus juice evening b/t the glasses, and top off w/ seltzer water.
--Add in a couple of thinly sliced strawberries to each glass so it looks pretty.
--swizzle (what a great word). drink.

And Mikey and I discussed how fabulous it would be w/ a bit of vodka added in if you were seeking that sort of pleasure. So def give that whirl if you feel so inclined and if you beat me to the punch on that concoction do let me know how it turns out for you.

For the record, it's Friday. I know I always say this, but I really, really, really, really don't want to start working this summer. Or maybe, like ever. Ok freds is here. I just heard a phone convo she had with someone else who lives in this building as she went to the wrong place. freds, you're an idiot. love you! signing off, ciao!

Dandelions=You so pretty

Another year, another Valentine's Day. I've done lots of different stuff on VDays of yesteryears. In high school, I recall roses and a date invite from some rando guy (turned him down, the flowers were lovely though). In college, I once had a dinner date at Wendy's followed by an all night study session w/ the bf at the library (can you feel the romance?). In DC I had many a fancy dinner with customized menus (names misspelled), cold food, and terrible service. Last night, I cooked w/ my friend Meg for about 25 of our single friends. No couples welcome. We cooked our asses off and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly and it was a great way to forget that elsewhere in LA couples were feeding each other bites of chocolate mousse and preparing for a night of extended foreplay and forced romantic sentiments. The closest I got was flattering comments about how I look like a 20 or 21 year old from Meg's Australian cousins and his friends...who are...wait for it: 19. I guess a little young.

I did get VDay wishes and homemade cookies from mom though. Bless you Jane.

I did not get any flowers, but I did catch a fantastic segment on the Today Show while at breakfast with Veeve and McB (who was in town for a few) yday. They had a number of elaborate flower arrangements on pedestals throughout the room, and they were analyzing the messages that each arrangement conveys. Friends: if you received flowers yesterday, let me tell you what they meant:

Yellow Flowers: Ouch. Hope you didn't get any of these. Unless you're my mom in which case you've been married for 30+ years and of course you get yellow roses b/c they are your fav. Anyway, if you are not Jane, I hope you don't like the guy too much b/c apparently he is "just not that into you." Sorry charlie. Hope they were pretty though!

Lilacs: First of all, who the f sends lilacs anyway? If you did get some...then...lucky you - "he's falling for you!" Cupid's arrow has struck kiddo.

Orchids: I saw the orchids come up and was like, oh he totally wants to have sex with you. I was dead on. Well it's something similar at least. Orchids = "I want to do stuff with you that we're not supposed to do." How randy!

Anyway, I think this is pretty much the biggest load of bs anyway. Men don't analyze like this do they?? Surely not. Over-analyzing is for women - let alone over-analyzing in connection to gift giving. I think the typical male either: 1) picks up a bunch of roses, red, b/c they are safe, or 2) calls the florist, gives a dollar amount, and says whip up something pretty. Or if you're lucky he knows your fav flower and hence that is what you get. But, regardless, I did find these flowers=message exercise highly entertaining. Ciao bellas. I'm out.

No mother board, no mother ship.

You know what is incredibly annoying? When I go to put on my iPod and instead of hitting the middle button so I go through the menu options to get to my artist of choice (currently Joshua Radin as I’m doing work and he is soothing), I hit the play button, which takes me to the very first song in my library, which happens to be N’Sync’s “the Game is Over.” Apparently I liked this song at some point of my life. I guess that was like 6 years ago or something. But now it hurts my ears. I’m guessing you may be unfamiliar so let me summarize – the song kicks off with pinball machine noises. Yep, it does. It’s terrible. Can’t stand it.

But, in other news, my f'in H-Piece of shit computer died on me on Sunday night. $200 later I took what was left of it (my hard drive) and walked out with my diagnosis from the Geek Squad: my mother board is shot. Mother board. Whatever the hell that is. Do you know what it feels like to have your computer die? Like you lost an appendage. I know it sounds dramatic, but it's true, honest abe it is. I was a bitch-a-holic on Monday. I'm over it now. Working on a loaner lap top. Or rather not working on it considering that I have a 6 page paper due tomorrow and it's 10pm and I have yet to start in on it. But you know what I liked to do yesterday? I liked to go around to my friends and be like, "Hey, look, this is my computer" and show them my teeny tiny little box of a hard drive. They laughed. They probably didn't think it was funny, but given my bitchy state, thought it better to laugh anyway. Right on.

But, who cares about my computer right? Wanna know something more exciting??? SV got engaged this weekend!!!!!! I wanted to post some pictures of the newly official-ized couple here, but, umm, well, there is no pic slot in this computer which is not my own anyway so I can't so much transfer them over. Anyway. They are adorable, I love SV and the Nate, and am 800% happy for them. And we celebrated liberally over the weekend, but I"m pretty sure we can stretch it out a couple more weekends maybe b/c hey, they're worth it. Ok then, I'm going to try to be productive now. From here on out, it's all about pay and compensation practices in Canadian professional soccer. gosh, what fun we shall have.

Wait one more thing? Know what's weird? When you're sitting with friends and they're like, "Lindy, have you blogged lately? Let me see." And then they go ahead and pull it up and start reading it when you're sitting with them. It's nice when they giggle, although you doubt their sincereity somewhat...but still...kinda odd. Anyway, just a thought. On that note, the end.

Me, I'll Take the Clothes.

So coming home from Vegas last weekend we made Gil read out loud to us from Men's Health. The articles sucked. The only ones we wanted to hear about anyway were the ones with sex tips for men and stuff b/c we wanted to verify the accuracy, but they were kind of written for like 14 year old boys or something we thought. Mikey sent out a more interesting article that would've been a much stronger addition to that total waste of a mag, which summarized results of a study relating women's feelings on the relationship b/t clothing and sex. And I quote: "Women on average say they would be willing to give up sex for 15 months for a closet full of new apparel, with 2 percent ready to abstain from sex for three years in exchange for new duds, according to a new survey of about 1,000 women in 10 U.S. cities. Sixty-one percent of women polled said it would be worse to lose their favorite article of clothing than give up sex for a month." http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070206/us_nm/life_clothes_dc

Very interesting right? I wonder if men would feel the same way. I'm no expert in men, actually I sometimes wonder if I really know anything of value about the opposite sex at all, and I think I don't....but I'm fairly certain that men do not value clothes and sex the same way. Oh btw, this reminds me of that quote from that one high school movie - you know - that one - Can't Hardly Wait - that's what it's called, where that little dude is talking about UCLA and how all the "honies" are running around saying "Class or sex? Hmm, which should I pick today?" Funny. Anyway, I, for the record, would fully fully 100% take clothes over the other option any old day. Is this posting getting too racy?

Let's take it down a notch then and turn to a conversation I overheard in the nail salon yesterday. It's not racy in the least, but just rather very, very weird. So, I'm chilling, it's a little before 1, getting my nails did (I have to keep them manicured otherwise I'll start biting them again). And there is this chick next to me. She's in yoga clothes, about my age, she was eating lunch while her nails dried (weird), she has a Chanel wallet that was ugly, a really cute voice...umm, that's all I've got on description. So, this older (37 maybe?) woman wearing a big green poncho (and ponchos are SO done btw...although I'm holding onto my chocolate cashmere one b/c you KNOW they'll come back around soon-ish) walks in and does a little kiss/kiss with some other very severe looking woman and they're all "We have to stop meeting this way!" and then she's like "Ming! Can you squeeze me in for a quickie? Just a polish change!" And Ming's all, "yeah yeah."

So then bad Chanel wallet girl goes to her, "By the way, you look good - I definitely think you've lost weight!" And I'm assuming...they know each other - reasonable right? So then poncho is all, "Oh thanks!" And Chanel goes, "Yeah, I always see you around here." And poncho is like, "Oh, like at Blue Plate and stuff?" Chanel: "Oh, I dunno, just around here." Poncho: "Oh, you're sweet! Do you work around here?" Chanel: "No, I don't. I just...can't get away from this place..." Get away from WHAT place chickie?? Montana Nails?? Planet Blue?? F'in TCBY?? Who the f are you chick that you don't work (or I'm assuming live either) on this street and you're here enough to stalk slightly overweight, over-caffeinated, poncho-wearing randos? What do you DO??? Probably nothing. I try to get over it, but I just can't, just can't.

Anyway, that's all I've got. Ta-ta.

Moons Over MyHammy, etc. etc.

Casino night has come and gone. I give you

two photos: one is an ode to champagne, which makes me giddy, as you can see by the five-year old expression on my face as I’m being smooched by champagne-loving Ben, and the other is an ode to how things rarely change from year to year, as Mark and I once again insisted on having someone shoot a photo montage of our ridiculous dance moves. Oh, and number three: that’s my AMR team in Vegas on Sat night. Seriously: how cute are we? No really, how cute?

I have no truly great stories from CN – I def did nearly spew up a shot but instead I just kinda spit it up, and that was really gross, but also a good thing, b/c I didn’t need that shot. I also finally pulled a really dumb drunk texting move, and sent a retardedly stupid, unnecessary, and poorly spelled (timothy: translation = even though – don’t ask) text to someone who I am sure will never call me again. But then I don’t think said person was going to call again anyway, so not so much a loss anyway I guess.

I hit up Denny’s w/ Warren and Jason for some Moons over MyHammy (well actually no one really ordered that but how much fun is it to say Moons Over MyHammy??? Say it! Say it again! That’s a real, genuine entrée name!!) late night and was in bed by 2:30am which was perfect for my 6am wakeup time. Yes, 6am. Driving to school truly, truly sucked on Sat, but as soon as I got there I piled in the pack of the T&C (that’s short for Town and Country, our minivan of choice for our Vegas trip) I pretty much went right to sleep along w/ Sarah V and Stu-y-pie and Mikey so no big deal. Although I’m not sure Gil really loved it. But at least he surely got to laugh at me when I made the weird snorting sounds that I make when I’m really, really tired in the car. My mom says it happens cuz you’re so relaxed that your tongue slips back in your throat. They actually wake me up. They make other people laugh. Anyway, continuing on.

Can I tell one more quick story about the trip there? So I’m sleeping, and at one point I wake up and I’m “Gil, I have to peeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!” And I explained that I really, really had to, you know, cuz I’d been asleep so hadn’t noticed it and it crept up. So he’s all, we’ll stop at the next place – and you know, we’re in the middle of the desert here, all “The Hills Have Eyes” style, so at this point anything will do. So I fall back asleep, and I wake up to Mikey asking Gil, “wait aren’t you going to stop at that rest stop?” that we are driving past. And I instantly am like, “Gilllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!! Why the f are you not stopping?!” And he’s like, “oh, I didn’t think that people actually stopped at those things.” And I’m like, “well, honeypie, when you’re on the verge of wetting your pants any old ceramic hole will do.” For the next 10 miles we searched for big enough shrubs to pee behind, but then we discovered some sort of market (no, it was NOT a mirage, Mikey) and I found peace.

Anyway. We had like 5 hours of meetings total once we arrived in Vegas. The highlight of the trip was undoubtedly Sushi Roku on Sat night. Our client insisted on ordering like 2 of everything on the menu. We has sea bass, we had tuna carpaccio, we had lobster tempura, we had rolls galore, etc. etc. etc. Three hours later, when dinner ended, I was so full that I was hungry. Does that make sense? Not really, but I swear, that’s how I felt. I then passed out in full-ness at like 11:30 with the girls while Gil and Mikey proceeded to go out and dance backstage with go-go dancers until the wee hours of the morning. So Sat morning’s two hours of meetings were super fun for them. Between the line presenter giving me really strange looks when I’d make comments related to Kanye West’s sense of style, or the occasional deadpan stares thrown at Stewie for asking so many damn Qs (even though – yes – we would’ve been up shits creek w/out her and her questions) or the alcohol vapors coming off Mikey and Gil, or waves of exhaustion coming off the rest of us as we continued to learn the ins and outs of selling shoes…it was most definitely a fantastic morning. I have never been so happy to get naked in a parking lot and eat McDonald’s as I was after that meeting. That sounded funny, didn’t it. you’re making a silly face now. Well, this is real long and you’ve likely stopped reading. So, on that note, back to work for me. The end.

Akward Situations, Love Em

So first off, I must mention that I totally 100% got called out by the prof the other day for being on my laptop during class. Yep, I did. I kind of was transported back to 7^th grade as that is the last time I can remember getting in trouble by an authority figure. I’ll give you the story in short: I was at lunch, and there was this bitch woman who had really bad hair who monitored the lunch room. We totally hated her. So she comes over and was all, “can you guys pick up the trash around your table?” And we’re like sure. But as soon as she walked away we’re like, “dude, it’s not even our trash.” And I was feeling rebellious that day I guess, b/c instead of picking stuff up, I actually threw a napkin on the floor. She saw me. I had to wash down lunch tables. That, my friends, is why I was always such a good girl. B/c my very (very) rare attempts to be a badass only got me caught, and in trouble, and blushing.

In other news, Sauj asked me to bring her a “sandy” the other day, short for “sandwich.” I made fun of her for using such a gay word. Then I proceeded to use the word in an email exchange w/ a friend who’s convinced he’s not gonna get a job and will have to open up a Quizno’s franchise (hey dude, chill, you’re golden). So anyway, then I had to email Sauj and admit I’d used the word myself. I guess in the end, I really do like the word “sandy,” short for sandwich. It brings me back to the years of my life when I drove my friends crazy with word-smithery, using words such as “sneezles” (for sneezes) or…wait never mind, I have no other examples.

Last story of the day before I go get totally glammed up for Casino Night where we will drink liberally and gamble w/ fake money in between taking stupid pictures w/ my new camera. So, I went on a date w/ this kid a couple/few weeks back, and we discovered that we go to the same yoga studio, which I knew was only going to be an issue. So we had a nice date but I didn’t really feel him that much + he said he didn’t like being led on, so when he called, I didn’t so much call back. So yesterday, I’m chilling on my yoga mat waiting for the 4:30 class to start, and I see this kid behind me, and I didn’t have the vantage point to see him clearly, but I’m fairly certain it was that guy. So much for a relaxing yoga session, as instead of working on my deep breathing and clearing my mind, I spent the majority of my time doing two things: 1) ensuring that I was looking extra hot (which is hard when you’re sweating profusely while contorting your body) b/c even though I don’t want to date the kid he must still realize that I’m hot (don’t ask, women are complicated); and 2) running through the various awkward conversation scenarios that could occur at the class’ end should we end up having to speak to one another. I made sure to rest on my mat for an extended time period in an avoidance measure, and funnily enough, the suspect dude peaced out of there real, real fast…So was it him? Will never know. But umm, sure did suck, so hope we don’t have another maybe-run-in. Ok kiddies. I’m out. PS: Go to Campanille for Grilled Cheese Night. It’s delish!!!!!!!

_i_c_i_e: Shut It.

Preface: Picture #1 is totally unrelated to remainder of post. But that Absolut bottle carved out of ice is pretty sweet. As for pic #2 is concerned, I think it complements the title of this entry quite nicely. Can't you see "shut it" coming out of that girl's mouth? I can. And it's my mouth. So, I should know.

Continuing on...this is me, writing you (well I guess not you b/c do I really know who you are? Not really. You could be anyone), from class. Pay and rewards to be specific. We’re having an intellectual debate regarding the accounting methods for expensing employee stock options, it’s FASB v. the world here. I’m sooooooooooo stimulated right now. I’m sure you have never been jealous of my life before but right now if u r reading this you are probably at the extreme opposite end of jealousy re: my life b/c this is undoubtedly the most boring portion of my day (or week, maybe month) thus far.

Wanna know what’s good though? I think I don’t speak alone when I admit that I am taking this class b/c approximately 1 hour through the 3 hr session the prof has delicious mini sandwiches (3 for me today: egg salad, chick salad, ham and swiss), cookies (a bite of M&M), and drink (glass of pinot grigio pour moi) delivered. Yes, I’m getting tipsy while observing a fabulous lecture on the subject of stock options. Oh wanna know what else is funny? I limit to one glass so I really don’t get tipsy but I have some lightweight friends in this class that actually do. Two sessions ago, I got two texts w/in 10 min from Aly and Meliss both saying: “I’m tipsy!” Ha ha giggle giggle. How fem can you be? That’s more fem than Warren watching What about Brian?.

Anyway, completely unrelated. A game that I used to play frequently w/ Brett (hi Siggy) involved the exchange of our fav songs from rap songs. Actually it wasn’t really an exchange but we’d try to fit them into everyday convo. Like maybe for instance if we were talking about liking something or not, I’d be like, “well my granmama hate em but my lil momma love em” – can you name that song? It’s from Grillz. Thanks. Anyway. Or maybe if we were talking about leaving I’d be all, “Then say they wanna leave cuz they say you outta must’ad!” That’s Go DJ by the esteemed L’il Wayne. Love him.

The point of this (I must interrupt my own self and mention that a certain classmate _i_c_i_e is truly asking a weird question right now. Hey, shut it) is that I have a new fav rap song line. I have always never understood why hood rats buy packs of Hanes ts that are size you’re really really really fat and huge and wear them like dresses. So in the latest song that tops my list of personal favs Andre 3000 espouses: “Your White Tee Well To Me Looks Like A Nightgown / Make Ya Mama Proud Take That Thing Two Sizes Down” Andre: I say thank you! I could not agree more. Make your momma proud damn it!

In conclusion, to tie this all together, hey, _i_c_i_e: shut the f up.

DouLikeMe? And Other Stuff.

Did you know that BMW makes an 8 series? I didn't. But then this morning while driving to school there was this really ugggg-llllyyy car driving behind me with those stupid ass fold down headlights, it was totally Kit from the 80s, at least I think the car's name was kit, but whatever, it was ugly. And I saw the BMW sign on its hood and was like no way that dude must've stolen the ornament and put it on his 80s-Camaro-esque vehicle, so I slowed down to let the car pass me so I could see the rear and indeed! It was a BMW.

It's funny that I started off my day w/ this car thought b/c then in my global ops class we were doing a case on BMW, ironic. But we were discussing the elements of decision-making when men make car purchases, and one item brought up was how men that have families will buy dumb cars so they still feel masculine. And it totally dawned on me that THAT was my childhood, b/c at one point in my youth Dick drove a Porche 911 and you'd think that was hot but in reality it was totally embarrassing if he ever came to pick me and friends up at school b/c it was so f'in loud plus you couldn't really fit into the damn thing. Total mid-life crisis right? He did get rid of it btw, right before my 16th bday. Do you think that's coincidence or planning? I'll plead the latter.

Oh Jason: this is a shout-out to you. I wondered how that blog you're planning to back-date and write is going for you. Did you pull that all-nighter?

And Jason brings me to my last thought of the mid-day which is re: to tv. It's funny, b/c most people actually try to decrease the amount of tv that they watch and meanwhile I'm trying to increase the amount of tv I watch. I went over to my friends' Jason and Warrens last night to revive our Sunday tv and dinner nights (it was Mon but whatever) of yester-quarter and we did 24 and What About Brian, neither of which I actually watch. But I think I'm going to try to get into them. I think that's weird.

Anyway, I'll leave you with this: www.doulike.com as someone on mySpace messaged me this link. I don't so much get it. But it's kinda funny cuz it's so totally reminiscent of like fourth grade where you pass your crush that note that's all, "Do you like me? Circle yes or no." But for the modern age. Oh, I'm not on it btw, so don't try to find me there. Ciao!

All Women Have Cellulite

Title: Revelation from SDance. Revelation for some. Eye opener for others. Anyway.

Well, shit. I started to write a blog entry like a week ago but it never really went anywhere. It was about Sundance, but it’s funny b/c I guess that was only a week ago but for some reason feels like it was an eternity ago. I think it’s mostly b/c I have four day weekends and three day weeks, and it makes time feel just really out of whack. I don’t think I’m ever really sure of what day it is, b/c Friday is like my Sunday is like my Monday….each day I can pretty much do whatever I want. And I’d like to say I have all this work to do…but that would be a total lie, b/c I really don’t have that much work to do at all. I’m kind of just a total, utter, slacker. I’d also like to say I feel guilty, or that it’s not agreeing w/ me, but I’ve rather moved past that point. I’m starting to realize that never, ever again will I be able to have 4 day weekends and just shape my days to be whatever I want them to be. And sometimes they will be a waste. Take today for instance. I woke up at 11, made an omelet and some coffee, and then hung out w/ Veeve, im’ed, emailed, etc. etc. I finally showered and got dressed at 3 – I had to go over to Melissa’s and advise her on a dress and make a trip to Staples. The funny thing was I then went home and chilled for another hour or so, and then it was time to leave as I was going to meet long-lost Sauj at the Grove for dinner. But by then the outfit of shorts, leggings, and flops I’d selected for my one hour out of the house was weather-ly obsolete – I had to change cuz by then it was too cold out for flops and leggings. Two outfits, one day, and I really did nothing. Hmmm.

Anyway, I think originally I’d planned to write about Sundance, but that’s really hard to do b/c I feel rather scatterbrained about it. I can tell you that we stayed up too late, drank too much, and skied a lot, which led to 10 people having very, very bad colds last week. Highlights include the significant amount of time spent hanging out w/ Nick Canon, which was funny, b/c we were at his after-party and everyone’s like, “we’re at Nick Canon’s!!” And we’re all like, “Umm, who is Nick Canon?” He has a bad show on MTV. That’s pretty much his claim to fame. I can also tell you that he sat across the aisle from me on the airplane and was wearing a gold rope around his neck that was apparently so heavy that he actually removed it and dropped it in his lap when he sat down…I guess that’s how you know you’ve made it in life when you’re of that big pimpin’ genre – you’re chains actually lead you to chiropractic visits.

We also spied PDiddy. He was preserving his sexy. In fact he preserved it so well that we couldn’t’ really figure out who he was. I see this dude, and I’m like, “Yo! Aaron! It’s Kanye West!” And he’s all like, “Nooooooooooooooooooooo!!” And I’m like, “Dude, it looks like him, and he has a body guard following him around.” So I walked past Kanye and told him he’s hot, and then about 20 min later we figured out it was actually PDiddy. I swear, they really, really do look alike. Not bullshitting you.

Oh, the Vagina movie was really good btw. I wrote about that right? The vagina w/ teeth movie? It was…graphic…. I saw several penile stumps, and yes, it was somewhat stomach-churning. But it’s interesting in that this chick is kinda like a heroine who has a super powered vaj that she uses to get back at bad men. So, that was nice. I guess it’s getting picked up though. So, def see it if you can stomach it. And boyz, don’t be afraid, it’s just a myth.

That said, I’m now going to write a paper for my women in leadership class. See there! I guess I am doing something productive. I probably deserve a cookie just for that.

People Like Us.

Tomorrow, I leave for the Sundance Film Festival. It's a film festival, so naturally, I am going to all of one film during my 4 day stay. You wanna know what this film is about? It's called Teeth, and it's about vagina dentata, which is essentially some ancient myth that has been passed through various cultures in various forms, but at its core, it's the concept of vaginas having teeth. It's supposed to scare men away from sex with strange women. Watch out! Your woo-ha might get eaten!

I guess the remainder of the time I'll be skiing, hot-tubbing, drinking, and partying. Or, seeing Matisyahu in concert. Oddly enough, everyone in my house of like 12 people is tremendously excited about seeing that guy. Personally I never got into this particular Jewish rapper. But, I'm going.

It's funny that I'm really doing nothing film related despite the fact that this is a FILM festival, most notably b/c someone in the entertainment business recently harangued me for going. In his words, "People like you are what's wrong with Sundance." Or something like that. "You can go skiing in Park City like any weekend you want, and yet you pick this weekend b/c you want to go for the 'parties.' And then people like US don't want to go even though we're the film people that have a reason to go b/c YOU people make it so damn crowded." I didn't realize it was so us versus them...but anyway, I'll be heading to Park City this weekend, mostly for parties, but also to make it too crowded for the entertainment people.

Anyway, I am excited. Considering the $$$ I'm shelling out for this weekend, b/t my "party pad," my airfare, my concert tickets, my lift tickets, etc. etc. etc., I am actually expected one hell of a weekend. And now...it's time to pack. Oodles of toodles!

When I was 15 it was the only place I wanted to live.

My skin is breaking out something fierce. I think it figured out that we’re moving to SF and it’s very angry and decided to strike back. What a douche.

Anyway, yes, I made it official this weekend – I signed my offer letter and will be managing brands in Oak-town come sometime post-graduation. Somewhere between the view from my 14^th floor hotel room with the splendid city view, the multiple extravagant (and more importantly, comped) meals, and the story from a future coworker about the time he accompanied Backstreet Boy’s AJ to the Playboy mansion for a benefit dedicated to Diane Warren and her life’s work of saving parrots, I decided that I found my calling from a career perspective and might as well make it a done deal.

As far as living in this cold, cold place goes, that, I’m not so happy about. I had to buy a scarf today just to survive. I got a green one, from Nordstrom, btw, but this evening when I put it on I discovered that the ends have several knit flowers attached. This means the scarf will be returned before the end of this week as attached knit flowers might be one of the worst things ever. Ever.

Despite the fact that I’ve really only been an LA’er for like 1.5 years, I’ve grown accustomed to 50 degrees officially falling into the “cold weather” bucket and rain being something that is really something for people who live elsewhere. Now elsewhere will be SF, I’ll be one of those people, and 50 will actually be quite temperate.

Anyway, can I just share the favorite part of the housing tour I went on this morning? We drove past some park, I now forget the name of it, but I guess it’s some really great park, and our tour guide gives her perspective on how wonderful it is b/c it’s so diverse yet so big that everyone gets along in perfect park-y harmony. “So you see, everyone has their space here. Down there at that end you have the Hispanics who come to play soccer. Then up a little further, the Asians come to practice their Tai Chi. And then you have the part on that hill where the musicians come to smoke their dope. And right next to those guys, you have their moms holding their playgroups. And so, you see, there is plenty of room for everyone to coexist happily.”

Charming. I guess this explains why after seeing several puddles of pee, two drug deals, countless crazies, several sex shops and strip clubs, and a couple prostitutes within a certain 3 block trot, we came upon Abercrombie, Juicy Couture, and Bloomie’s. All happily coexisting. A veritable patchwork blanket. Sans attached knit flowers. SF...here...I...come.

Valcor!!!

I just heard an ad for “high-performance” tampons. I understand that we live in a world where high-performance is not just for snow skis anymore but rather regular everyday items like razors that have no business being high-performance, but I fail to see why it would ever be necessary to use a high-performance tampon. I’d really like to know what exactly this HPT does aside from its singular, obvious function. If anyone has some insight, feel free to share.

Anyway, I have been back here in LA since last Tuesday. I didn’t think I could sick of lunching, shopping, and hanging out, but I think that I’m sick of…lunching, shopping, and hanging out. Also, the ridiculous amount of spare time has led to two things: 1) when you have this much time and you actually have work to do, it’s impossible to make yourself do it b/c you’re like whatever, I’ll just keeping “watching true life I’m a meth addict” and do my work tomorrow; and 2) any little thing that is on my mind is on my mind like 28 times worse so that I just obsess over things as I have all this unutilized brain space. I have class starting tomorrow…thank G_d. Did I just say that? I did.

I am actually going to go do work now though believe it or not, but I wanted to leave you with this. Do you see the picture here of this animal? This is some sort of seal, I forget what kind, but they are big and furry and very cute, clearly. But do you see what it looks like? I’ll tell you. I was w/ Jaime the other day and we started talking about Never-Ending Story which is one of the greatest movies of all time. And she noted that she saw this seal thing in Argentina over break that looked like Valcor from NES and here he is, and he really really does look like a black Valcor. I guess he doesn’t fly, and that’s too bad, but oh well.

Alright then. The end.

But where is Frank?

I do love Las Vegas, this much is true, but I have never wanted to get out of a place so badly. It could’ve been the fact that yesterday morning found me setting up residence on the lobby couch of the Homewood Suites in Henderson NV eating Chinese and watching Bobby Flay before going on to have one of the most awkward afternoons in the history of my life (not bloggable sorry), it might’ve been that the desert air was starting to make my skin crack up and my face break out, it could’ve been the disgusting amounts of alcohol that were and always consumed in that city, but I’m so, so, so glad to be back in LA. Although I must say, I think I slept in a hotel bed yesterday for about 4 hours, a couch for about 5, and the backseat of Frank’s Honda for around 5 before my own bed for 10 – and I’m still f’in tired, I am.

Anyway, the trip was good, of course it was, I was there. Let me give a run down and focus on the highlights. I’ll start at the beginning, last Thursday, I’m home in IN, and around 3pm I begin puking and I keep going until around 7 and finally get in bed around 10pm to get a good night of sleep before waking up at 5am the next day to catch my flight back. This is relevant, as my day of sickness prevented me from going out post-rehearsal dinner. It didn’t keep Winnie, Kokko-monster, Frank from going out. I talked to Winnie around 11am the next day. I guess they were awake until 8am and then got a room at the Palms where they slept until around 1.

It was revealed around this time that Frank had been kicked out of the club at some point for reasons unknown, and by 3pm he was still missing. At 4:45 the wedding ceremony was over and Frank was still missing. At 5pm Winnie got on the phone to 311 which is like 911 but for non-emergencies. Eventually he tracked down Frank, also known as Inmate # 2592710. He had been picked up for “vagrancy lodging.” We still don’t really know what happened and never will, but somehow he ended up sleeping in room 411 at the Hampton Inn v. room 411 in Homewood Suites. How he got in, and how he was discovered, are both hidden deep in Frank’s hazy drunken memories never to be recovered, but around 6pm he did show up looking very dapper indeed with good stories about his crack dealer roommates and trays of gruel. We decided that jail kind of sounds like being stuck in the airport for 10 hours.

I’d also like to note that Kenny Lee (not his real name but I don’t so much know him anyway) passed out on the Homewood Suites lobby before finding his way into the hotel room of the groom’s parents and vomiting profusely, and Dingo (who I also don’t really know but I guess he ate your baby) passed out at the country club and was delivered via cop car. The night was topped off with some gambling and drinks at the Green Valley Mountain Ranch which is a massive off-strip casino somewhere in the middle of nowhere NV. This is the part of the night where I hurt myself. I was wearing the highest and skinniest pair stilettos in my wardrobe and mind you they are sandals and offer no foot support. I was half-way down a massive escalator with another chic and we were apparently not supposed to be going down and I suggested we just sprint back up. I did very, very well and nearly made it when I bit it at the top. I was rewarded with several bloody toe cuts (I was much more concerned by the blood on the sandals than the cuts) and three very nice bruises on my right leg and feet. A job well done I say.

As for NYE, I ate dinner at Applebee’s with Winnie and a bunch of Garg’s old frat brothers who I might add are exceedingly obnoxious although not really in a bad way so that really kicked things off right. It might be noted here that Sean is a dbag and ditched out to chill with his cousin who he’s clearly tight with given that he had not seen her in about 4 years, and KokkoMst left around 10am that morning with nary a word of goodbye b/c he apparently “just couldn’t take it anymore.” Frank meanwhile was with 2 college friends and his family that we eventually met up with at Mandalay Bay where we remained until 4ish. Besides me losing $100 in under 5 minutes and taking many many lemon drop shots I haven’t much to say. It was fun and I have to note here that Frank’s college friends are from a family of 4 boys that are each 1 year apart. They were born in the UK and thus all have great accents and I don’t really get it but they were all dressed up in various outfits: one in Lederhosen, one in a safari outfit, one as a circa 1987 suburban gangster, and one in a pee-wee herman costume. I see neither the link nor the point but they were highly entertaining. Of course most things are post many lemon drop shots and glasses of champagne.

So there you have it. Another wedding, some new stories, and a brand new year. And guys, early prediction: this one is gonna be a good one. Wanna know why? b/c 7 is my lucky damn number and it’s 2007, and therefore, it has to be awesome. So cheers to that. The end.

Joining the rest of them.

Every holiday season Jane recieves a massive pile of holiday cards. Many of them are not cards but those letters that go on and on about how great life is in the family. And if it's not great - i.e., a divorce or something else equally un-good - then they make it sound like it's great anyway - i.e., no mention of the split: instead, "Margie is doing GREAT!!! She is dating up a STORM!! And they are all rich, handsome, and super duper awesome!! Great!"

So I decided to write one for us this year, b/c really, what else do I do in IN aside from shop, eat, and take up space at my parents' house? So if you're curious how we here at my house do holiday letters, indulge. If you want to read the only line I really like, then skip to the very end and read the paragraph about getting older:

Warm tidings from a very frigid climate!

Or at least frigid in the opinion of the writer of the first ever and very official Linderman holiday letter, who now lives in the warmth of LA and thus is unable to deal with Indiana winters. It has been a good year for Dick, Jane, and Spot as well as Dick, Jane, Sara, Greg, and Jack, and that, combined with the inspiration of years of fantastic letters from friends and family, has led to the sending of this letter.

All in our house will agree that the highlight of our year is the new bundle of joy that has taken up residence at 511 Cornwall Court: Mr. Jack Bauer, our beloved new golden retriever who since joining the family as a wee one in June has sprouted into a beautiful and very spirited 60 lb adult. Of note is the fact that Jack may be the only 60 lb golden retriever who sees himself as a 10 lb lapdog extraordinaire.

Jane, Jack’s fare caregiver, unfortunately discovered just how spirited Jack is in early October when he pulled her down on the hill. Physical therapy has been going well for her and she has graduated from crutches and is doing much better to the delight of the family. As we all know, she keeps the household running, so her speedy recovery is prayed for by us all.

Dick is taking up some of the slack but has been busy getting his new office in order. He moved North and is now just around the corner (close enough to come home for lunchtime each and every day) from Cornwall court. The office has been open for nearly a month now, and thanks to Jane’s keen eye, it looks fantastic. We hope that fake breasts continue to be in style and also hope that North-side woman value this chic accessory even more than their South-side counterparts.

Greg and I continue to thrive in LA, where fake breasts are of course valued more than ever. Greg has made dean’s list once again and will be graduating from USC’s School of Engineering this summer. Watching Top Gun 3 times a day for years on end has finally proven worthwhile, as Greg will most likely become the modern day Maverick (or perhaps Ice Man?) when he attends flight school and learns how to be a “naval aviator” in Pensacola this coming year. He is now taking orders for official-issue aviator sunglasses.

I too will graduate…again…this summer. You might know my school as the one that defeated those dastardly Trojans this winter, in what is the greatest upset in college football history, ever…or at least that is what I call it. I’ll be an official MBA. I will be leaving behind LA to pursue a career in brand management at Clorox in San Francisco, or, as Greg likes to call it (at least once/week), the most expensive city in the country, this fall. When I’m not creating the newest packaging sensations for bleach, I’ll be happy to do freelance consulting on your behalf for a very, very hefty sum. But I might offer you a special deal.

With many good things to celebrate, celebrate the Lindermans did to close out 2006, with a week in Cancun. Focal points of the week included testing the various angles of the chaise lounges to obtain optimal tanning positions and sampling the local cervezas and cocktails. Wow, it was exhausting.

We aren’t sure how another year has passed, but we prefer to think we haven’t aged at all. Except Greg, who aged 5 years to close the gap between him and his 26 year old girlfriend.

On that note, fair tidings to all and a most joyous New Years! We send you all good fortune, good health, and good spirits!

Much love,
Dick, Jane, Sara, and Greg

OH PS: random Mexico pic for you.

Fine, fine, we'll have the chowmein. (Post #100!)

I really don’t like minivans. I actually kind of hate them. They are by far the most unfashionable of all types of automobile and I care not if they are just great for soccer moms hauling around their soccer kids, I will never, ever, drive one. If my mom had ever tried to drive one (she was an SUV mom thank you) I think I would’ve stolen the keys or something. Sorry if I’ve offended… Listen, plz don’t take offense. It’s ridiculous to hate a car genre b/c it’s unfashionable anyway….yes…it is.

Anyway I just had my dislike renewed b/c on the way home this evening I was driving behind one and they had a tv inside playing something or other. And I swear it was incredibly distracting to me. I could barely pay attention to the ride b/c I was so preoccupied with trying to figure out what they were watching inside. Was it The Hills? And…was I on it???

Anyway, they sure are Midwest. Wanna know what else is Midwest, aside from the hideous, brutal, miserable cold of winter? Cheap drinks. I say amen. I had dinner tonight and ordered a (non-well) cocktail and it was $4.95. Let’s forget about the “0.95” aspect of that which is totally dumb and focus on the cheapness. That is unheard of in LA. Which sure is nice.

So what else do I have to say. Well it’s been…I think…10 days of pure unadulterated family time for me so far. I have seen more of Dick, Jane, and Greg and only D, J, and G than I ever thought imaginable. And we’re all still alive, which is good. But I will say this. I was due to lunch w/ my bf, Annie, this morning, at Patachou, where I order the lentil pate on sour dough w/ extra blue cheese horseradish spread like it’s a religion, as we do every time we come home. I came down for my coffee this morning and Jane is all, “I didn’t know you were having lunch w/ Annie and Mare this morning! Why didn’t you invite me?” That would be b/c I didn’t know we were having lunch w/ Mare and Jane either… Jane couldn’t make it, so it was just the three of us, but I was sure to give Annie a big, hearty, and sincere thank you for nearly giving me yet more time w/ my mother. I do love her, I do to death, but I need to change up my company. For my sanity.

After lunch I went to the gym w/ Jane, where, after my workout, I did something so Midwest girl, I hit up the tanning bed in winter. You see I have a lovely tan right now thanks to Cancun, but I’m most worried right now about losing it. I have a wedding on Saturday night and I am bound and determined to be the f’in tan girl at the wedding. No one is going to take that away from me, even if it means putting my real-sunned body under some fake-sun and walking away with the faint scent of cooking skin under my sweaty workout clothes and into the 30 degree cold. So take that you bitches, I WILL be the tan girl.

Final piece of news I have. In Cancun we ate ridiculous meals for dinner every night. I took down more steak, lobster, and seafood dripping in cream than I cared to see in a single span of a week. And our first night back in IN Jane cooked leg of lamb. I of all people am not one to turn down savory culinary treats, but last night, when Jane brought out the pepper steak and prepared to serve it up with scalloped potatoes, we put the kibosh on dinner and said no. No more red meat, cream, and starch all in one meal, nope, not going to happen.

So what ensued. We went to a 7pm of Pursuit of Happiness (pretty good). And then we left and everyone craved potstickers. And we did the most cliché modern Jew move: we totally stopped and picked up Chinese takeout at 9:30pm on Christmas day. We have resisted for so many years, but we finally succumbed. I can’t say I’m proud of it…but I will admit that it happened.

And I figured since we’ve already indulged in this one really big cliché, might as well indulge another: want to know what my project for tomorrow is? Writing a “holiday letter” for the Lindy family (Jane does New Years cards v. Xmas time cards). I like to think mine will not be as sappy and irritating as all those that pile in our kitchen every holiday season…but…let’s be real. If you’re going to go cliché I think you may as well go all out.

With love from IN: The end.

Don't worry about me, I'm doing just fine.

Greetings from my really big and marble-y hotel room in Cancun, where i'm sitting in my big huge white robe and super fluffy slippers. I am pretending that I have no Internet access on this vaca but that is kind of a lie as I do, but you do have to pay for it, so I'm capped to a couple hours. But anyone who writes me emails that deal with anything that I don't want to think about which is pretty much anything that relates to reality - as far as they are concerned I have no Internet.

But if having the Internet means I get to log on to blog and tell you kids how incredibly fabulously wonderfully great vaca is going for me, then it totally exists.

I guess the only drawback is that I really have nothing at all to write about. I could tell you about my daily routine, whereby I wake up at 10, go to the gym, work up a sweat, shower and change into my bikini, and spend the day reading and sunning. I could mention that it's puntuated by a salad at 2, a Dos Equis around 3, and a late afternoon mojito. I could describe my seating arrangements, which include your standard chaise as well as these chair things that are kind of built into the the pool so you can kind of sit in about 3 inches of water, just enough to keep you nice and cool.

Oh and I could offhandedly note that yesterday involved a deep tissue massage. I guess I do have one thing to say bout that. I typically go to a massage in undies, but yesterday feeling very tropical and free I went w/out as I guess that is what you're supposed to do anyway. So I think the masseuse sure did touch my ass a lot. I didn't feel violated really, but I might have if he had been unattractive. I don't know. Perhaps he was just very lower back centric, but I'm fairly certain he saw the majority of my butt. How do I feel about that? Unsure really, kind of unsure. A little bit unconcerned.

What else could I tell you? Well I guess I coudl show you with pictures, but that will have to wait until I'm back home. I know that you're really really excited about that and can't wait to see the photos. But until then it's time to climb into my really, really big bed and go to sleep b/c I have that hard day in front of me again tomorrow. I think I'll be parasailing too. Anyway, please don't be worrying about me down here in Mexico, as I'm doing just fine. Hugs and kisses around. The end.

Your next MTV reality star: Right Here.

It still gets me super confused when I have days like this. I was up at 9am this morning right? And now it’s 6pm. That’s a lot a lot of hours. Technically I should not have any issues with taking care of the few key tasks that I have to finish before I head to my crazy Cancun vaca tomorrow morning at f’in 5:30 – laundry, packing, some email shit, AMR (kill me). Instead, I brunched (Aly you are most def a domestic goddess and I’m in awe), I have mani/pedi’ed (hot pink thank you), I have shopped (bought a dress which was the object of my obsession and to avoid any further obsession I just bought it, sorry couldn’t help it, have absolutely no self-control). And now it’s like 6 and I want to take a nap and then go out but instead I have all this shit to do – so clearly I’m digging right in. it’s not like I’m blogging to procrastinate. Anyway I really really needed to update this b/c you know I don’t want to neglect it and stuff.

So anyway. I have a story.

The other day, I’m shopping on Robertson w/ Aly (that’s a double shout out for you dumpling!) and we see that something is being filmed. We go into Lisa Kline and we’re in there trying to figure out who the hell they’re shooting. And then I see her: Heidi, my favorite blond ambition(less) flake who spends her days tanning and her nights drinking in those gorgeous HWood Hills. She was having truly retarded conversations with some new girl who most likely is her new best friend that MTV went out and found for her. So anyway she’s totally all up on in the sales rack which is not cool b/c I can’t afford anything in that store if it’s not on the sale rack and then even then…I really can’t…so I’m trying to stay out of the way of the crew but apparently…I didn’t do such a hot job.

Cuz on our way out they ask us to sign release forms cuz we were in a bunch of the background shots. Most awesome thing that happened to me all week. I’m totally watching The Hills next season (like I wasn’t going to anyway but whatever) and watching for my little moment of fame. Too bad I looked like ass, no makeup, hat on, huge bulky sweater, will most likely look like some random ugly girl wearing too much clothing and attempting to hide unwashed hair from the world. But I guess you have to take it as you can get it.

So now that I’ve told my story…I’m going to start packing my BIKINI b/c I’m going to the tropics and I cannot wait!!! Until then, mistletoe and eggnog and too much family time to you.

Once a victim, twice a victim

Don't you hate when you set personal rules for yourself and then they get in the way of stuff you really want to do? Like, I have a rule that I will NOT ever blog about my personal/intimate/dating life. I need to maintain some air of mystery... But then, I just exchanged/heard an awesome, awesome story, and I totally want to write it, but if I did, it would violate this rule. So, alas, I cannot do it. But know this: it will kill me softly, for at least another hour or two.

Anyway, so I think someone is out to get me. You may recall that a few weeks ago, I got f'in egged. Egg, all over the back of this one black jacket of mine. A jacket that I happened to wear again last night - it's back from the dry cleaner and all better. (Side note on the black jacket: it's a very fine gauge corduroy, but something about i t makes it looks really super soft I guess even though it's really not b/c people were touching it all night last night). So, I am at this party in SMon. The party was awesome as I got to eat a lot of freshly grilled meat with my hands, drink very fruit-packed sangria, and play flip cup on a kitchen counter top.

But then we leave and head to a bar, and I shit you not, I packed 10 people in the Honda. Safety first guys, safety first. Anyway, I am approaching my car and I see something all up on my driver side window. As I get closer, with my 9 passengers, I see that my car has been EGGED. I have been an egging victim twice in less than one month.

At first I thought, eerie coincidence, right? But the more I think about, the more I wonder if there is some deranged person out there that really has it out for me and is determined to make my life hell by coating my person and my vehicle with chicken placenta. All I can say is I guess if that is the worst it could get then I do have some level of safety.

Hmm. I am off to the car wash to de-egg. Stay safe and watch for flying white orbs!

Unbelievable

So for me, yesterday was a big day in the world of sports. It's really v. funny that I'm saying that, b/c if you know me...you know that the world of sports is generally a world I could care slightly more than less about. Only slightly. But yesterday I got all wrapped up in it, I think mostly b/c little Greggy and I have an intense rivalry of trojans (who suck) v. bruins (who are awesome) that threatens to rip our family in two. Not really. But I can't resist sounding dramatic.

Anyway, so it was the big game. We started drinking around 10:30 am and then somewhere between jello shot number 2 and tequilla shot number 1 and beer number 58 I got a ticket to the game for free. I went to the game w/ a bunch of friends and our plan was: tailgate - yes! game - no! Why pay like $60 to see your team get slaughterhous fived? But anyway you see I had much to drink and little else to do if I went home as I'd only fall asleep on my couch, so when the free ticket found its way into my palm I accepted.

And then what can only be described as the biggest upset in football history (at least that's what I call it) occurred, and UCLA won. It was mad exciting, and I cheered until my nodules were in full effect so I could not even talk by the end of the night. PS: that is me there, in the foto, with the fat arm and the the blue hat.

Oh can I say? The end was freaky. To prevent any field rushing they had mad cops out and security and muzzled dogs and tons of pepper spray canisters and even a gun thing. They did pepper spray us even though we were committing the heinous crime of stnading in the stands and cheering...I coughed. So that was that. A great historical momentous occasion.

And! The DDeacons won the ACC championship and are now headed to the Orange Bowl. I have not a clue where the bowl is and I still don't understand why it's such a big deal but I got more texts about that then about the UCLA game so I guess it's kind of a big deal...so...yay. Anyway, that concludes my sports notes for the night. I"m off to Houston's w/ my brother and his girlfriend who I think is becoming a permanent fixture in his life. I continue to work on getting over the fact that she is my age and has 5 years on him. I really am working hard...

Yep, last time I checked, I was stilll white.

So I was in Altadena (somewhere out by Pasadena…) today and btw since inquiring minds like to know (that is fun to say) I was there for my little internship thing, that’s where the offices are. So anyway I left around 6:30 and was supposedly going to hit like all this mad crazy traffic and I was starving so I was like f’ it, I am going to eat McDonald’s. Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.

Anyway. So I walk in, and near the back of the restaurant there is this table of like 6 or 8 black guys. And they see me, and they start pounding the table and chanting “White girl! White girl!” They just did it like 3 or 4 times, but wtf? Are you serious? I was not really offended nor did I feel particularly troubled, I was just really, really confused. I paused very briefly in my steps and gave them a look, but I don’t really know what the look even said, I think it was mainly…confusion, like I said. Cuz yes, I am a white girl, this is true. But I mean, what if was like, “Black guys! black guys!” Then what? Then they would’ve been all up in my grill and calling me a racist little bitch or something right? I don’t know. It was weird. And, Veeve asked logically, was this an area that is low on whities? But it’s f’in Pasadena, so no, it’s def not so far as I know. Very odd I think, very odd.

Not quite as odd as the movie called Wild Things about the men of the American Ballet Theatre that I watched at Greg’s last night…yes, I said that…he loves that movie…don’t ask why he and his fiancé own it, I’m not sure about that, but it’s f’in hilarious watching these silly men in tights talk about their careers in ballet. Anyway, I’m peacing out. Ta-ta, toodles, nightie-night.