Kicking Ass and Taking Names

2007-11-10T02:25:00.000-06:00

Gonna Make You Sweat--Whether You Like It Or Not, Part Deux

Ummm...so, is it me? I feel like it must be. I have no other explanation for why I always seem to manage to stand directly behind or next to the most obnoxious person in the crowd every single time I go to a live show.

Case in point: I went to see Art Brut and The Hold Steady at the Marquee Theater last night. It was a fairly full room, but it wasn't close to sold out. My friend and I pushed up toward the front after Art Brut to get close for The Hold Steady. I stood behind what seemed like a perfectly nice, normal young man and waited for the show to start. Cue the music--and cue this dude turning into the most ridiculous Hold Steady superfan you've ever seen. He jumped up and down like a rabid bunny to every song, even the slow ones, shouted every word to every song to the point where it was difficult to hear the lead singer, and- sweated up such a storm--onto me--that by the end of the show, I looked like I had been caught in a torrential downpour.

And this is not the first time this has happened. Nay, I seem to be have some sort of strange magnetic pull over Mr. and Ms. Overzealous Show Goer, to the point where they sense I will be some sort of safe haven for their crazy rocking out. And in some ways, I guess I am.

Yes, it sort of bugs me when I realize that I am yet again standing next to Joe I-Know-Every-Lyric-To-Every-Song-This-Band-Has-Ever-Written-And-I-
Will-Make-Sure-Everyone-Around-Me-Realizes-How-Much-I-TOTALLY-LOVE-THIS-BAND-
YEEEEEEEEAHHHHHH!!! But then again, I never move to another part of the room. Why? Because even this is part of the reason I love live music. You don't get Joe's energy and--how shall I put this delicately?--obvious enthusiasm for the band when you sit at home listening to a CD. Warts and all, there's something truly exhilarating about seeing a band you love--or even a band you're not that familiar with--playing for a room full of people who are there because they just want to hear something that resonates with them. It's one of life's pure pleasures.

So hey there, Joe, you belt those lyrics out, hold up your lighter and shake your sweaty head, drenching everyone within a 5-foot-radius with your perspiration. Because you, my friend, are part of what makes live music fun. And if I ever get sick of smelling like your bodily fluids, I'll bring a poncho and keep my mouth shut.

2007-11-05T09:08:00.000-06:00

Gonna Make You Sweat--Whether You Like It or Not

So yesterday, my friend and I tried bikram yoga. For those who don't know, bikram yoga is basically regular yoga done in a room that feels as if you are walking on the surface of the sun. There's no other way to put it: it's balls hot. And you're doing all these crazy awkward yoga poses, trying not to look like a complete dork next to all these people who look like they came out of the womb in the downward dog, and all the while, you're also concentrating on not passing out.

Sounds fun, no?

Surprisingly, it is. Actually, maybe fun isn't the right word. Perhaps torturous would be more accurate. But when you leave that room, I am telling you, you are the most relaxed you have felt. Like, ever.

So, like everything in life, it's something of a trade-off.

2007-11-01T09:23:00.000-05:00

Oh, That's Supposed to be a Costume?

So, as many of you know, Arizona is like another planet. At least it feels that way a lot of the time. Case in point: Halloween. I was warned about Halloween in Tempe by several people.

"In Tempe, most girls' idea of a costume is to take something totally normal and turn it into something completely slutty," was the basic consensus.

Yeah, that was the understatement of the century. We went to a "grown-up" party on Friday, so most people were dressed relatively demurely. "Ha," I thought. "This is nothing. Everybody looks very nice, actually." Flash forward to the next evening, when we attended a far less grown-up party, followed by the bars on Mill.

Pick your run-of-the-mill Halloween costume, and there was a slutty variation worn by at least one chick. I swear I saw a slutty nun. I'm not joking. Even the guys who thought it would be funny to dress in drag were in slutty drag. It was all quite amusing to me, especially since the group of friends I was with were all mostly covered up.

But, in the interest of full disclosure, I might as well say it: I was Slutty Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. There it is. After spending the last two years dressed as a dude, albeit an awesome, kick-ass dude (If you haven't seen me dressed as Slash, you haven't lived), I decided to join 'em rather than trying to beat 'em. As they say, when in Tempe...

2006-07-18T02:14:00.000-05:00

Kickin' It in Tempe

Sometimes hardworking girls like yours truly need a little R&R. For times like these, we turn to our cousins, lovers, confidantes in the desert to show us a good time. My cousin Jenifer was kind enough to host me this past weekend at her pad in Tempe, AZ, my possible future home. Why not? Home to Arizona State University, well known for its mass comm/journ program...who's to say it won't happen?

In any case, here are some highlights:

--Watching 3,235 billable hours of Arrested Development and undressing Jason Bateman with my eyes while doing so.

--Me never turning off a light when I left a room, followed by Jenifer asking if I was raised

in a barn. At one point, I thought I caught her not turning off a light, but was then put

in my place with, "Do you see where my hand is?"
--Buying Placenta Shampoo (or Champu de Placenta for our Spanish amigos) at the local dollar store: For those days when you just don't feel like there's enough afterbirth in your hair.
--Acting completely insane and ridiculous at Jenifer's birthday party
--Eating copious amounts of awesome Italian food at Buca de Beppo

All in all, it was quite the good time. And who knows, maybe this time next year I'll be kickin' it in my own house in Tempe. Yeeeeeeeah!!

2006-06-24T00:11:00.000-05:00

Glutton for Punishment

So...I've decided to have another go at the Chicago Marathon this year. Because apparently I just can't get enough of my thighs chafing, sweating my proverbial balls off and having my toenails turn black. Yeah, I'm something of a masochist.

As most of you probably know, I'm not really what you would call a "runner" in the traditional sense of the word. I don't really enjoy it, I'm not really good at it, but at the same time it's something I feel compelled to do. I guess that's why I'm so amused by this running subculture I discovered last year and I'm beginning to rediscover this year.

These people lose their f-ing shit over running. They wake up at like 5 in the morning so they can run 500 miles, and they do it WITH SMILES ON THEIR FACES like some sort of crazy cult. Apparently, they drank the Kool-Aid. They spend hundreds of dollars on products like BodyGlide, which is supposed to keep you from getting chafed and blistered, but really makes you feel like you're preparing your body to get basted like a Thanksgiving turkey; nipple guards for the dudes, which keeps them from getting bloody nips while they run, which, um, gross (any sort of activity that would cause me to bleed from the breast-al area is not an activity in which people should really be participating); and Power Gu, which is a jelly-like substance that comes in small packages and is supposed to keep runners feeling energized during long runs but which instead makes me want to stab puppies because it tastes like their crap.

So I've been known to buy some of that stuff from time to time, but the one ridic thing I will cop to doing as a runner is being a freak about my iPod. Some people say that running with music is "cheating," but I say that those people can go screw themselves. Whatever gets you through, man. So anyway, I'm a little obsessed with making an awesome playlist, interspersing inspirational 80s tunes with hardcore rap to find that perfect balance that'll keep me going when all I want to do is stop and take a walk break.

I'm a bit ashamed to admit my power songs, but I'll do it anyway, if for no other reason than that perhaps there is a runner out there who is also a bit ashamed of their power songs and is afraid to share. I want to break the spiral of silence.

So, for posterity's sake:
Hold the Line, Toto
Jump Kriss Kross
Mama Said Knock You Out, LL Cool J
Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen

Got any of your own, reading public?

2006-05-15T01:42:00.000-05:00

Barack My World

Does anybody read this thing anymore? I know it's been awhile...I think I was blogged out for a bit. But after reading a comment on my last post asking if my blog ate me, I decided I would give the blogging thing another go round. Perhaps it's too late; if that's the case, I'll update for myself, dammit. I realize writing a blog for yourself is sort of the equivalent of sending yourself Valentine's Day cards on Valentine's Day, which is pretty much the most pathetic thing you can do (my apologies to anyone who actually ever did this), but I don't care. I never said I wasn't pathetic, yos. Anyway, I hope to keep up with it this time.

So for those of you who haven't had me rub their faces in the fact that I got to attend Friday's taping of Late Night With Conan O' Brien, please let me take this opportunity to do so. That's right, bitches, I know you're jealous. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Don't hate me cuz you ain't me.

OK, now that I've gotten that lame attempt at sounding cool out of my system, I must say it was a pretty sweet experience. We waited in 35-degree rain for three hours, but it was totally worth it. I met two cute Canadian boys in line who said things like "aboot" and "eh" but looked at me like I was crazy when I told them they had accents. We played Go Fish using a deck of cards they had bought on their trip to the Shedd Aquarium earlier that morning, so we asked each other for things like red-bellied piranhas and Australian lungfish instead of 7s and queens. I'll never play Go Fish with regular cards ever again.

When we finally got inside, I got to check out George Wendt giving Chewbacca a massage, LaBamba from the band dressed like the Empire carpet guy, and see Wilco for the third time.

But the real highlight of the day was getting within 50 feet of my boyfriend Barack Obama, or as I like to call him, Baracky. Sigh. He's so dreamy. He was pretending to engage Conan in witty banter, but let's be honest, he was totally making eyes at me the whole time. It's cool, baby. I was able to interpret all the winks and blinks. And the answer is yes, I will rendezvouz with you at your timeshare in Antigua.

2006-03-20T00:20:00.000-06:00

I'm ancient

So I'm a quarter century now...I was kind of depressed about it before, but I had a great weekend and I'm looking forward to the second half of my twenties. Thanks to everybody who came out or sent their birthday wishes.

I'm not really quite sure what I'm doing in this picture (thanks for playing photographer, Alana). I'm a little afraid of myself (and my brother). I'm pretty sure I'm also the worst dancer of all time. I get very Elaine Benis-y, especially when I've hit the sauce. So I apologize if I injured anyone with my insane dance floor convulsions.

On an unrelated note, was anybody at work on Friday? I apparently missed the memo that declared St. Patrick's Day a national holiday. I took the day off, and judging from the crowds at the bars at 1 p.m., I'm guessing a lot of other people did, too. Seeing everybody getting drunk on green beer in the middle of the day made me a little nostalgic for U of I's Unofficial St. Patty's Day. It's nice to know that it's still acceptable to ditch class/work in favor of turning your tongue green while boozin' it up.

2006-03-10T10:32:00.000-06:00

Fun Friday Question #1

So to quell the boredom at work, especially on Fridays, when the whole so-close-to-the-weekend-yet-so-far-away factor comes into play, my co-workers and I sometimes give each other random topics to make lists on. Nothing too taxing, but they're usually pretty fun and usually serve their purpose. I thought I'd start spreading the wealth so you, too, can join in on the non-work work.

Here's Question #1 (offered by my co-worker Erik):
"Top 5 meals you’d choose if you’re going to die. And be specific, nothing like pizza, get down and dirty I want details like…deep dish from jake’s with corn crust and extra cheese, sausage and some motzi sticks and 3 rolling rocks to wash it down."

Here was my list:
5. All-you-can-eat sushi from House of Sushi and Noodles—specificially, lots of the Rainbow and Dragon rolls, miso soup, seaweed salad, goma ae
4. Bok choy in oyster sauce, chicken satay, pad se ew with tofu and extra hot sauce from Penny’s Noodle Shop
3. Veggie samosas, palak paneer and matar paneer from Mysoor Woodlands
2. French onion soup, gigi salad (with asparagus, roasted red peppers, hearts of palm) and a big-arse lobster (I know that’s clichéd, but I don’t care—I love lobster) from The Palm
1. My mom’s giant garden salad with Italian dressing, mushroom barley soup, twice-baked potatoes, baked tilapia, and homemade applesauce

OK, your turn.

2006-03-07T04:21:00.000-06:00

Holy Crappy Idea, Batman!!

In today's world, there are many controversial, hot-button issues that seem to divide us rather than bring us together: abortion--pro-choice or pro-life; the death penalty--necessary or inhumane; Ryan Seacrest--irritating tool or endearing dork? But I think I've finally found something that we as an American people can agree on. Now, I've heard a lot of interesting ideas over the years about how to address the age-old--or at least 30-year-old--dilemma of how to handle the last name issue when it comes to children. If the mother is keeping her maiden name, do the kids still take the father's last name? Nine times out of 10, that's probably the case. I've also heard of giving the kids a hyphenated version of both parents' last names, or forming a combined version of both last names for everyone in the family to use. (In that case, I'd be Yvonne Pevusel. Or Yvonne Zusevitz. Yeah, I'm really glad my parents didn't attempt that one.) I think those ideas are a bit silly, but at least they keep everyone in the family on the same page.

Contrary to this idea, brought to you by a brilliant New York Times reader.

On what planet would this ever be a good plan??? I suspect that even Alien Life Forms would say this is a ludicrous idea.**

All I know is, I want some of whatever Sara Solnick is smoking if she seriously expects us to approve of this ridiculousness. Side note: her husband's last name is Nugent...any relation to Ted? Because then this whole thing would make a lot more sense...

**I apologize if your family purposely uses two different last names and I've offended you. But seriously, somebody needs to slap some sense into your parents.

2006-03-06T06:51:00.000-06:00

Hello...Is It Me You're Looking For?

Hello, my loyal readers (all two of you). It's been awhile, no? I've just felt a bit...uninspired. That, and I've spent my normal blogging time sleeping.

But I digress. So last night was the Oscars. For those of you who don't know, I'm a bit of an Oscar freak. I don't know why; they're boring and long, and the awards are usually based more on politics than merit. But there's something about the ridiculousness of it all, how seriously Hollywood takes itself, that I find really amusing. Plus, I'm a whore for analyzing what everyone's wearing.

I was actually pretty entertained throughout the show, which is rare. Jon Stewart did such a great job...obviously, he wasn't going to be as biting as he is on The Daily Show, but he was as hilarious as he could have been under the circumstances. My favorite Stewartisms:

"For those of you keeping track at home, I just want to make something very clear: Martin Scorcese, zero Oscars. Three 6 Mafia, one." (After Three 6 Mafia won Best Original Song).

"Tonight is the night we celebrate excellence in film...with me, the fourth male lead in Death to Smoochy."

"The show has been a little routine so far, a little rote. There's been no controversy...yet. Now there's word the Itzchak Perelman has been finger-synching."

Oh Jon, how I love thee. The whole Three 6 Mafia thing was awesome...the fact that they got to perform the song was awesome enough, but the level of awesomeocity increased ten-fold when they won. I couldn't understand a damn word of their acceptance speech, but I didn't really care.
I wanted to vomit on Health Ledger and Michelle Williams. They are too much cute for one couple. It's not fair.

I was sad that Brokeback Mountain didn't win Best Picture, because I really loved it. And also because I picked it to win in my Oscar pool. But Crash was my second favorite. So I'm over it.

So, other than the cheese/ice cream/Boone's farm blockage I'm suffering from this morning due to a little too much impromptu Oscar-gathering bingeing, I'd have to say it was a pretty successful evening. Now we can all go back to using the weather as the main topic of conversation when forced to make awkward small talk with random people.

2006-02-15T12:11:00.000-06:00

Happy Belated Ferris Wheel Day!

Yes, yesterday was Ferris Wheel Day!

The first Ferris Wheel was the highlight of the1893 World's Fair. It was created by Pittsburgh, PA bridge builder, George W. Ferris (whose birthday is Feb. 14). Supported by two 140 foot steel towers, its 45 foot axle was the largest single piece of forged steel in the world at the time. The wheel itself was 264 feet high. It had 36 wooden cars that could each hold 60 people. It cost 50 cents per ride - a high price in 1893.

Wow!!!! Isn't that interesting???

Henceforth, I shall only acknowledge Feb. 14 as Ferris Wheel Day (As opposed to a day dedicated to phony sentiment and Hallmark brainwashing. I'm not bitter. I swear. I'm not!).

But I'll make one last mention of VD: I was floored by the number of people I saw ransacking the aisles of Walgreens yesterday at 2pm. I mean, I'm definitely the Queen of the Procrastinators, but that seems like cutting it a bit close. I actually felt a little bad for the guys who got these really sad looks on their faces when they realized all that was left were some plush skunks that sang "Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love" and some picked-over Russell Stover candy (and we all know Russell Stover candy is a nice way of saying, "I love you, but not enough to actually put any thought or money into this gift."

And while we're mentioning Happy ____ Days, happy birthday to my girl Rhi! Also, happy belated birthday to Erin, Scott, Jon and Chrissy. And happy upcoming birthday (because I know I'll forget otherwise) to Jen and Taz.

2006-02-07T17:20:00.000-06:00

The Mane Event

I'll be the first to admit it: I'm not a big fan of the Super Bowl. Well, at least not the actual game part. I do look forward to ingesting copious amounts of guacamole and chicken wings. I still go to Super Bowl parties because I feel like a traitor to my country if I don't. If I didn't watch the Super Bowl, it would be like saying I don't like apple pie or baseball or the Fourth of July. It would be like giving the finger to the American flag. I watch the Super Bowl year after year because that's what George Washington would have wanted, dammit.

But this year, I was actually captivated, entranced, seduced by something so awe-inspiring, so glorious, I was afraid to look at it too long for fear I might go blind. This thing had little to do with the game itself, though it made its presence felt throughout the proceedings. This thing, my friends, was Troy Polamalu's Mane of Life.

Who is Troy Polamalu? some of you might be wondering. Don't ask me. I hadn't heard of the guy until Sunday night. Apparently, he is good at football, because he helped the Pittsburgh Steeler's win the game. I guess he is a safety. I don't really know what a safety does, nor do I care.

The point is this: I have found a suitable backup. For those of you who don't know, it has been a dream of mine for years to convince Slash, he of the awesome mane and rockin' Guns N' Roses guitar solos, to procreate with me, thereby creating the Curliest-Haired Baby in the World. I believe it would be quite a thing to be the mother of a child who possesses a fro both feared and revered. But thus far, Slash has not been very cooperative. I have higher hopes for Mr. Polamalu. I don't know why; he is married, Roman Catholic and a professional football player. All signs point to no. But I have a feeling he'll be into it. If all else fails, there's always the Joy of Painting guy. Oh, crap. He's dead, isn't he? Perhaps I can find a mere mortal with some hot curlage.

2006-02-02T14:18:00.000-06:00

Phuck You, Phil

Not cool, Phil. Not cool. Who the hell do you think you are, coming out of your stupid little mini-cave once a year, telling us there's going to be six more weeks of shitty weather? Did Jerry Taft die and make you meterologist? Because last time I checked, he was alive and kicking, still making lame weather jokes in his lovable weatherman way. So crawl back inside you little hole, Phil. We don't want your doomsday predictions.

I believe Phil Connor of Groundhog Day said it best: "I think This is pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat."

2006-01-30T13:30:00.000-06:00

Please Won't You Not Be My Neighbor?

So my brother, for God knows what reason, decided to find out if any registered sex offenders live in his neighborhood in Harlem. Apparently, he lives within 1,000 feet of a guy who raped a 21 year old. I decided to check out my 'hood here and found out that the gentleman pictured at the right, who lives about two blocks from me, was convicted of criminal sexual assault a couple of years ago. There are also several other sex offenders who live within a mile of me.

I consider my neighborhood to be very safe, so it freaked me out a bit. I also plugged in the addresses of some other people I know who live in what I consider "safe" neighborhoods. Every one of them had a sexual offender living within a couple of blocks of them. There was an article in the Trib last week about how every block in Chicago with the exception of one reported a sexual assault in 2005. I've always been a bit naive about things like this because I live in a "good" neighborhood. I've never been one to look over my shoulder when I walk down the street. Knowing bona fide creepy dudes live so close to me probably won't change that, but at least it'll make me a little more aware, which can't be a bad thing.

2006-01-25T01:36:00.000-06:00

If Your Nose Is Running and You Think It's Funny, It's Snot

I never get sick. OK, I very rarely get sick. But now I am sick. My nose has been running for three straight days, I want to claw out my very itchy eyes and I think I've sneezed on every Brown Line rider in Chicago. My co-worker J has been witness to my misery and yesterday gave me a Q-Tip slathered with goo and told me to stick it up my nose. I guess these swabs are called Zicam and they're supposed to cut the time you have a cold in half. I don't know if I buy it, but it's suprisingly fun to stick goo-covered swabs up your nose. Trust me, don't knock it til you've tried it.

Anyway, I really shouldn't be coming into work. I can't concentrate, I'm not being productive, and by the end of the week I likely will have infected at least two of my co-workers with my virus. So you would think I would call in sick, right? For once in my life, I actually have a legit excuse for taking a sick day (Although I've always claimed a lunch date with Maury Po. to be a highly legitimate sick day excuse).

My problem is that I only have one more sick day, and we just got a huge lecture from our boss about abusing the sick day policy. Apparently, too many people used their sick days last year. Keep in mind, these are sick days each of us earned, but we're allowed to actually take a certain number each year. They have threatened to fire people for taking too many sick days.

So now I am scared shitless to call in sick. The only way I will do it is if a lady spider bites me in my sleep and lays its eggs in my face and then they hatch inside my head and disperse in my body. Then I might call in. Am I the only one who works under a ridiculous sick time policy? Because I kind of get the feeling that my management would rather me come in to work with a highly contagious flesh-eating Ebola-like virus than use my sick days.

2006-01-19T10:31:00.000-06:00

Nobody Ever Says "I Wanna Be a Television Junkie When I Grow Up."

Or at least, I never did. I always said I wanted to be a regular old junkie. Wanting to be a doctor or a ballerina is so 1995.

But I digress. The point is, I never meant for it to get like this. When I first graduated from college, I barely watched any television. I was working crazy hours and was actually going out and doing stuff with real people, and sitting on a couch and staring at a box for five hours a week didn't really appeal to me.

Flash forward two and a half years later. I am officially addicted to American Idol, The O.C., My Name is Earl, The Office, Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy. Not to mention Reunion, before it got cancelled, and Veronica Mars and Rescue Me, both of which I became addicted to because friends lent me the DVDs, or, in the case of Veronica Mars, forced me at gunpoint to watch. Curse you, Clifford!

Now that I have a DVR, the situation has reached Code Red status. I can watch shows on the new, awesome TV in our living room (big ups to Kristin for that awesome purchase) while recording shows in my bedroom.

Every time a show I was previously addicted to starts a new season, I vow not to watch, not to become sucked in again. This was the case with American Idol, after I realized that watching the Battle of the Ages between Carrie and Bo had sucked about 20 hours out of my life. 20 hours I could have spent tending to my rose garden, caring for sick puppies or doing research on the mating habits of centipedes.

Seriously, though. This is pathetic. Most of these shows aren't even good. In fact, most of them really suck. The only ones I actually think are quality are The Office, V-Mars and Rescue Me. Why, then, do I have a panic attack at the thought of missing one second of Patrick Dempsey and his miraculous head of hair making out with a severely underfed Ellen Pompeo on Grey's Anatomy? Why do I think I might die if I don't find it if Marissa and Ryan did it on The O.C.? Why do I freak out if I don't get to hear "Seacrest, Out!" every Tuesday during AI??

WHY???

I don't know why. But if you hear me talking about wanting to start watching any more TV shows, please punch me in the face.

2006-01-12T13:17:00.000-06:00

Let's all take a deep breath. Ready?

OK. Did you take one? Because I seriously think we all need to take one. Yes, Angelina Jolie is pregnant, or as US Weekly calls her, "preggers," with Brad Pitt's baby. Yes, the baby will likely be very good-looking, and yes, it's all very scandalous because Brad left Jen for Angelina and now he is no longer known as Brad, but as one half of Bradgelina (I'm personally more of a fan of the Pittolie moniker, but that's neither here nor there). But can we get some perspective?? Please??

The way some people are talking, you would think this baby was the second coming of Christ. Just because there was some hot peen/vag contact does not mean everybody needs to get their panties in a bunch. Think about poor little Maddox (or Mad, as I like to call him when I come over for our playdate) and Zahara. Do you think they appreciate this fever pitch level of hysteria? Granted, Zahara is, like, two months old and probably doesn't give a crap about anything but eating strained peas and watching Blue's Clues, but I think if she had any semblance of what was going on, she would not be happy. And I'll be honest. I am a little afraid of Maddox. He seriously looks like he could kick my ass. Yes, he's about a fifth of my size, but there's something about that mini-mohawk that gives me the feeling that he would stab me in the face if I tried to mess with Bradgelina. So I'm going to refrain from dwelling too much on this new baby. And I hope you'll join me.

2006-01-09T15:59:00.000-06:00

MySpace Whore

It is official: I am a MySpace whore. After joining Friendster and spending countless hours searching for losers I lived with in the dorms and guys I made out with once freshman year and then never saw again (what's up, random guy from Joe's whose name I later found out because you worked in my dorm library!), I vowed not to get sucked into any other online social sites. And then last week, my cousin wanted to tell me a story, but she had already written it out on her MySpace account and told me I had to join MySpace and look at her profile if I wanted to hear the story. So basically, I was forced at proverbial gunpoint to open an account.

So now I am on MySpace and I've wasted even more time on it than I ever did on Friendster. And I am obsessed with getting friends (because clearly, the number of friends you have online is directly correlated to the number of friends you have in the real world, and thus directly related to how good you should feel about yourself as a person). I recognize that I am pathetic. And yet somehow, I do not care. But this, too, shall pass; within a week, I'll likely be bored and move on to trolling AOL chat rooms for underage boys (I keed, I keed). But in the meantime, if you are on MySpace, you should, like totally be my friend, because I'm friends with the Postal Service and Kevin Federline, which makes me totally cool, and you can be cool be association if you are my friend.

2006-01-05T10:38:00.000-06:00

My funny little man

I am so very excited that Jon Stewart will be hosting the Oscars this year. I think he is one of the funniest comedians working today, and I can't wait to see how he uses the sense of humor he usually reserves for Capitol Hill to skewer Hollywood. Then again, I think Chris Rock is hilarious, and he pretty much bombed at the Oscars last year. So I guess there are no guarantees. But I think if Jon Stewart can't liven up the Oscars, ain't nobody's gonna be able to. Oh, Jon, don't let me down. If nothing else, at least try to be better than Billy Crystal. I think the only people who still find him funny get a social security check in their mailbox every month.

2006-01-02T23:53:00.000-06:00

Setting the Bar Low

I hate New Year's. It's one of the holidays that, like prom, always holds the promise of being awesome, but never ends up living up to the hype. You wind up hungover, $200 poorer and pissed off that you expected so much out of it only to be disappointed. Or maybe that's just me.

So this year, I decided to go into New Year's with very low expectations. My only goal was to not be surrounded by assholes at midnight and to not spend more than $40.

And, lo and behold, it ended up being one of the more entertaining New Year's I've had. When the clock struck 12, I was with good friends and other assorted non-obnoxious people, and I only spent $20. Sweet.

I think this bodes well for 2006.

Things to do in January:
--Finally watch Boondock Saints, Happy Gilmore and Tommy Boy. I know, I know, I'm a terrible, terrible human being for not having seen them before.
--Actually make use of my gym membership.
--Use Jedi mind tricks on Kristin so she does not suck me into being addicted to yet another television show.
--Hang out with more has-been rock stars.
--Decrease the sugar-to-blood ratio coursing through my veins (current count: 3 parts sugar to one part blood).

Happy birthday to Jess, Erick, Amy, Courtney and Lisa :)

2005-12-29T00:03:00.000-06:00

Ms. Yvonne Goes to Washington

I just got back from a mini-vacation to Washington, D.C. with my mom and brother. We got to see a lot of cool things: the Washington Monument, Mt. Vernon, the Lincoln Memorial and a bunch of other memorials and museums.

But despite their majesty and historical significance, none could quite hold a candle to the one attraction I was bound and determined to see when I found out we were going to D.C.: The Puffy Shirt.

Housed in the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History, the shirt is the centerpiece of one of my favorite episodes of "Seinfeld" and, in my opinion, one of the best episodes of television in the past 10 years.

I think it's telling that right next to the Puffy Shirt was a case with a pair of the Ruby Red Slippers from "The Wizard of Oz," and more people were gathered around the puffy shirt. Judy Garland is probably rolling over in her grave as we speak.

Other Seinfeld items I would have liked to see if it was a larger exhibit: The Black and White Cookie, the signed birthday card for George Steinbrenner, Kramer's jacket, Elaine's sponge.

2005-12-22T13:17:00.000-06:00

A Year in Film

I saw Steven Spielberg's new film "Munich" last night. I though it was incredible. It dealt with some complicated issues and was difficult to watch at times, but it remained riveting for its entire 2 hours and 45 minutes. Plus, Eric Bana is hot.

It got me thinking that I've seen a lot of good movies this year, although I didn't get to the theater as much as I would have liked. I know there's been a major dropoff in attendance, but it can't be blamed completely on a lack of good movies. Of course, there has been a TON of crap released, as well, but there were definitely some quality films to counterbalance that.

My personal favorites (keeping in mind I haven't seen a ton of movies I've wanted to see, including King Kong, Brokeback Mountain, Kontroll, Murderball, March of the Penguins and, of course, XXX: State of the Union) are, in no particular order:

Dot the I--A fun, twisty thriller. I'm sure everybody else in the theater got the twist long before I did, but I'm an idiot about stuff like that. I hate watching movies with people who lean over halfway through and whisper, "I bet he killed his mother." And they end up being right. Bastards. But anyway, Gael Garcia Bernal brought the hotness, which made up for lack of ingenuity in the plot.

Millions--The kid in this movie is freaking adorable, and not in that precocious, Macauly Culkin or "Boy Meets World" Stuart Minkus kind of way that makes you want to punch him in the face. It's a really sweet story, and the fact that it was directed by the same guy who did "28 Days Later," which scared the living shit out of me, made it even better.

Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room--This movie also scared the shit out of me, but for very different reasons. A really good documentary on the train wreck that was Enron.

Kung Fu Hustle--It's hard for me to know what to say about this movie other than it rocked. It was like a Chinese live action version of old Warner Bros. cartoons on acid. Or something. And they're making a sequel, which I'm super excited about.

Crash--Despite the presence of Brendan Fraser, who inexplicably annoys the crap out of me, I loved this movie. It kind of beat you over the head with the message, but it was so well done that it didn't really matter. Terrance Howard gave the best performance of the year. Also, Ludacris was surprisingly convincing.

Batman Begins--Christian Bale is the only Batman since Michael Keaton who actually does the role justice. Plus, like Gael Garcia Bernal and Eric Bana before him, he brought the hotness.

Me and You and Everyone We Know--Another movie that's hard to describe, but which was so awesome. There were times it got a bit pretentious, but it was unlike anything else I saw this year. Another adorable kid. This one talks about poop in a hilarious scene that alone is worth the rental.

The 40 Year Old Virgin--There seemed to be two camps: those who liked this movie and those who preferred "Wedding Crashers." I'm sorry, but this was hands-down the funniest movie I saw this year and one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. "Wedding Crashers" was "Son of the Mask" in comparison. OK, perhaps that's a bit of an exaggeration.

Capote--Philip Seymour Hoffman rocked my face off with his performance. The movie was better than average, but only because of him.

Walk the Line--I'm not gonna lie--I cried like a baby for the majority of the movie. The on-stage scenes are amazing.

Honorable Mentions:
Downfall
The Constant Gardener
Green Street Hooligans'
In Her Shoes
Shopgirl
The Squid and the Whale
The Aristocrats

Worst:
High Tension--Way to waste a perfectly good movie with the most craptacular, cliched ending EVER.
Must Love Dogs--Must love crap is more like it. I was dragged against my will by my mother who, incidentally, loved it. Go figure.
Hide and Seek--Are you kidding me? Did this even seem like a good idea on paper?

Upcoming in 2006: "Die Hard 4: Die Hardest," "The Santa Clause 3" and "Garfield 2." Score! It's gonna be a great year!!

2005-12-21T13:03:00.000-06:00

A Blast From the Past

The last time I listened to Q-101, I was still rocking tapered jeans and I hadn't yet discovered the joys of being able to drive. I try not to listen to the radio too much in general, if only because I am a firm believer that hearing "Laffy Taffy" more than twice a day will cause me to hurt myself or others, and there's no escaping it if you listen to the radio on a regular basis. It will find you.

So imagine my surprise when my co-worker Z, who sits next to me, turned his radio to Q-101 and Ween's "Push Th' Little Daisies" came on. I hadn't heard that song since it came out when I was 13. Yes, it's a completely bizarre song, but I love it! Apparently, the station is doing something called "13 Years in 13 Days," where they play the top 100 songs from every year starting with 1993 through the present.

I am extremely excited by this. I missed 1993, but yesterday I got to hear "Mmm Mmm Mmm" by Crash Test Dummies, Live's "Lightning Crashes" and Soul Asylum's "Runaway Train." Today, 1995, I've been rocking out to Ass Ponies' "Little Bastard," Rusted Root's "Send Me On My Way" and Pearl Jam's "Immortality." I miss Pearl Jam! I miss these songs! I am actually semi-excited to come to work tomorrow so I can hear 1996! I know that's pathetic, but I don't care!

It was in the mid-1990s that I actually started to care about music and develop my taste for what I liked and what I thought sucked (I am aware that "Little Bastard" is not a quality song, by the way, but I hadn't heard it in so long that I kind of liked it when I heard it). It's so cool to be able to hear for the first time in a long time songs that defined my adolescense. I imagine it'll get less cool the closer they get to 2005, but through 2000, I'll be rockin' it old school style with the Q.

2005-12-19T13:49:00.000-06:00

House Party, Kid n' Play Style

Whoa. After this crazy weekend, I was fully reminded of how nuts Decembers can be. Between holiday parties, holiday shopping and holiday pigging out, it's a very draining month. We hosted Winter Formal 2005 on Saturday, and I would say it was a solid success. I don't have photos yet, but I can paint a picture for you with words. No need to tell me how poetic that was.
Highlights included:
--Hanging out with several dashing-looking men in sport coats and ties
--Taking a swig of cheap tequila out of Greg's flask, which made me feel like the floozy at the junior high dance hanging out with the bad boy
--Watching a guy who we didn't know (a friend of a friend, who, incidentally, was sporting a 70s porn mustache) completely faceplant on our kitchen floor
--Eating half a cheese log at 2am (it seemed like a good idea at the time)
--Watching Mike put an empty cracker box on his head (I'm sure to him it seemed like a good idea at the time)

I'm sure there are others, but the evening is all very hazy to me in hindsight, especially the last few hours. Thanks to everybody who came out, though; I hope you had a fun time.

*A shout out to my roommate, who appeared in her first Second City show this weekend and totally rocked. Watch out, Tina Fey.

2005-12-14T14:32:00.000-06:00

Take Your Diamond and Shove It

Diamonds are pretty, no? All sparkly and shiny, they make you think of love and hope and all that crap. I have nothing against diamonds. They've never done anything to me.

But seriously, if I see one more commercial before Christmas for Jared, Zales, De Beers or JB Robinson, I am going to straight up lose it.

Seriously, are these not the worst displays you have ever seen? The women in the ads are all, "I don't want another tea cozy for Christmas this year, so I made sure to tell my man to go to Zales." Are they for real? Like, are there women out there who are actually going to kick their guys to the curb if they don't receive a 24kt rock? Was your wedding/engagement ring not enough for you, you crazy lady? Do you really NEED more diamonds? Is that what Jesus would really want for you on HIS birthday? IS IT??

OK, I'm done now. Check it out, though, someone agrees with me:

http://www.thephatphree.com/features.asp?SectionID=11&StoryID=1862&LayoutType=1

2005-12-13T13:17:00.000-06:00

Why can't this be love?
My brush with superrockdom yesterday rocked. As you can see, Mr. Anthony is quite a short man, but he has a big heart (as well as a big goatee and a big mullett.)

Highlights included:
-Alana and I making fools of ourselves on Mancow when a guy shoved a mic in our faces; Alana blanked on the name of a Van Halen song and I announced Eddie Van Halen as my favorite VH singer (I thought the guy asked my favorite VH member).
-Meeting a guy who looked and acted exactly like Wayne Campbell. I kept expecting him to tell us to party on.
-Getting to hear about how Michael Anthony proposed to his wife in a McDonald's drive thru.
-Eating tons of awesome food, most of it fried and/or greasy. If only I had been hungover, it would have felt like being in college all over again. Because I always hung out with rock stars in college. In case you didn't know.
-Having several mullett sightings.
-Having him sign a CD to my mom: Loretta, ya doll! Love, Michael Anthony.
-Him telling us that "Eddie has issues, so a VH reunion doesn't look too good, but me and Sammy are working on a bunch of stuff." Van Halen gossip! Score!
-Turning Michael down when he asked me to come on tour with him. OK, that didn't actually happen. He asked me, but I haven't turned him down yet. I told him I need time to think about it.

All in all, a rockin' afternoon. Thanks to my comrade in rock, Alana, for accompanying me; we were by far the coolest people at that table (other than Michael Anthony, of course).

2005-12-12T01:50:00.000-06:00

Right Now...I'm rockin' out with Michael Anthony

One of my favorite lame things to do is call in to win radio contests. I'm actually not too bad at it. I realize that dialing a phone number takes little skill, but I like to believe I have the Zusel Touch when it comes to these things. I've won many CDs and movie tickets over the years just from keeping my dialin' finger strong.

Well, last week it served me well yet again: I won a bottle of Michael Anthony BBQ sauce. You may be asking yourself, as I did while I was calling in to win the sauce, 'Who the hell is Michael Anthony?' Apparently, he is the bassist for Van Halen. Who knew? Sure as hell not me. I mean, I like Van Halen and all, I rock out David Lee Roth/Sammy Hagar-style when Jump or Running With the Devil come on the radio. But I am by no means an uberfan. Which is going to be awkward come tomorrow, when I am set to share a two hour lunch with Mr. Anthony. Because, you see, when I won the sauce, I also qualified to win lunch with the man. And win I did. And I am going to go. I might not know much about him right now, but by the end of the lunch, I expect to know all the ins and outs, the nooks and crannies, of Michael Anthony Sobolewski. That's right, his middle name is Anthony, but he uses it as his last name. Didn't know that, didja? Well, neither did I until two seconds ago. The Internet is a beautiful thing. I want to know what makes the man tick. I want to know his hopes, fears and desires. Mostly, I want to know how he rocks a hard core mullet and still manages to look semi-cool.

I'm a little freaked out that he will quickly catch on that I am not The Biggest Van Halen Fan of All Time and be annoyed. That's why I'm planning on teasing my hair, wearing acid washed jeans and asking him to sign my cleavage. I figure I can blind him with my groupie imitation and get him reminiscing about the good ole' days.

Anybody have anything they want me to ask him or have him sign for them? Also, any Michael Anthony factoids that I can impress him with would be greatly appreciated. Wish me luck!

**BTW, if anybody would like to accompany me, I get to bring a guest. I just found out about this yesterday, so I haven't had a lot of time to find somebody to come. If you are free between 12:30 and 2:30pm tomorrow and you're interested, let me know.

2005-12-09T01:08:00.000-06:00

Nothing like a little alcohol to weed out the office pervs

As a general rule, I don't like blogging about work. I am, however, a fan of blogging about the awesomeness of getting toasty with coworkers during a yearly event known the world over as the Company Christmas Party. I'm sure everybody has been to at least one. The worst ones are painful at best, excruciatingly painful at worst. This is usually the case when you work in a small office where most of the employees have no interaction outside of work, so when you do end up hanging outside of work in a social setting, it's muy awkward. You end up having to listen to Louise talk about her cat Snuggles for an hour, and when she mistakes your polite interest for genuine interest, out come the pictures, at which point you have to ooh and ahh at a blurry photo of Snuggles' crap clumps in its litter box when all you really want to do is poke Louise in the eye with your fork and you end up realizing no free meal is worth this torture. But I digress.

I'm actually totally psyched about my office party tonight, though. And yes, I did just use the phrase "totally psyched." I had just started at my company right before last year's party and didn't really know anybody; this year, I'm the coolest kid in the office and everybody wants to be me. Actually, that's not true at all. But I'm at least friendly with several people, and we are all planning on taking advantage of the open bar and making fun of the losers in the other departments. Those bitches in Client Services aint got nuthin on us, yo. We're gonna throw up the Publishing sign when we walk in the door, and they're gonna know what's up. I've dared my co-worker E (he of the out-of-control Chuck Norris love) to request the R. Kelly classic "Bump n' Grind," and then ask our boss to dance. We'll see if he pulls through.

What I'm most looking forward to, though, is watching the American Idol-style talent show that's held at the end of the night. I didn't stay for it last year, but apparently I missed out. There's nothing I love more than listening to a bunch of tone deaf drunks belting out "I Will Survive" and "Achy Breaky Heart." It's so going to rock.

2005-12-08T10:43:00.000-06:00

I always said I had a little black in me...

NEW YORK -- They have baggy clothing, backward baseball caps, the "bling bling" and racy lyrics. And these days, rappers sometimes wear yarmulkes too. Hip-hop music, which grew out of black inner cities, isn't typically associated with Jews, but as the genre has grown more popular, some Jewish artists have embraced it as their own, while transcending theological and ethnic differences. New York-based Hip Hop Hoodios, whose name is a play on the Spanish word for Jews, is a Latino-Jewish group that has recorded in English, Spanish and Hebrew. Their lyrics include such sardonic lines as: "My nose is large, and you know I'm in charge." A popular 26-year-old Hasidic singer, Matisyahu, raps in a brimmed hat and dark suit over reggae beats. "Torah food for my brain let it rain till I drown, Thunder! Let the blessings come down," he says in "King Without a Crown." The growing genre has also seen artists like Remedy collaborate with mainstream acts like Wu-Tang Clan. "It's very much a representation of the cooperative state of Jewish and black relations today," said Rabbi Marc Schneier, president of the Foundation for Ethnic Understanding, which is chaired by hip-hop impresario Russell Simmons. "I view cooperation, not conflict, as the defining element."

Has anybody seen Matisyahu on MTV? That guy rocks the mic like a vandal, lights up a stage and waxes a chump like a candle. That's him rocking out with Death Cab for Cutie above. I'll let you guess which one he is. My grandma lives in a predominately Hassidic area, and next time I visit, I'm expecting a Rabbi to start busting out with "Laffy Taffy." Hey, it's a kosher candy, yo.

2005-12-06T17:04:00.000-06:00

Mario Rocks

Has anybody seen that commercial for Super Mario Strikers where a guy dressed in a giant Mario suit runs out onto a soccer field and throws elbows at soccer players, trips the referee and scores in his own goal? It is hilarious, and it makes me really nostalgic for old school Super Mario Bros. on NES. Mario and Luigi were a big part of my childhood, and several people have messed with them over the years, which I am not happy about. Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo in that shitty excuse for a movie, the people responsible for the crappy cartoon version, and my brother. I will never get over him selling all our old NES games at Funcoland when we were younger to fund his POG addiction. Not cool, Mike. Not cool. POGs were a fleeting trend; Super Mario Bros. is forever. Have some loyalty, for God's sakes. I have to say, to be fair, I was an equal fan of Duck Hunt, but we lost the gun and my dad wouldn't buy us a new one. Jerk. Pointing our thumbs and index fingers like guns at the TV screen Charlie's Angels-style stopped being amusing very quickly. Anyway, I stumbled across this and it made me happy. I especially love the naked one. Any favorite NES moments from your childhood?

2005-12-05T02:31:00.000-06:00

I'm assuming my invitation got lost in the mail

So Archbishop Don Magic Juan, my personal favorite of the Archbishops (right in front of Desmond Tutu), graced Maywood, Ill. with his presence this weekend at his Players Ball Convention. You might remember the self-proclaimed "King of there Pimps" for his memorable turns as Himself in the acclaimed documentaries "Pimps Up, Hos Down," and "American Pimp," or perhaps you're familiar with his personal mantra, which speaks to the soul and to which I'm sure we can all relate: "My favorite colors are green for the money and gold for the honey." I feel you, Don. Truer words were never spoken. He also recorded a lovely little ditty with his pal Snoop Dogg.

Right. So The Magic was there on Saturday, presiding over the Player's Ball, where he gave out an award for "No. 1 International Pimp of the Year," celebrated his birthday and drank enough Moet and Courvoisier to flood a couple of small towns.

Here's a man who has contributed so much to society, who gives it to you straight with no chaser, and yet some haters still have to rain on The Magic's parade. Hey fools, don't hate, participate.

Don't get me wrong: I'm definitely not a fan of pimps or what they do to women. But pimping has become such a parody of itself that it's hard to take it seriously, anyway: Nelly hawks Pimp Juice energy drink; Ice-T, the most celebrated of the pimps, has gone legit as a detective on "Law and Order: SVU" and Vince Vaughn played a pimp parody in the movie "Be Cool." Actual pimping is wrong, but there's a difference between beating and exploiting women and taking an outdated element of the lifestyle and turning it on its head.

Wikipedia says that as of late, the verb "to pimp" has acquired a meaning not related to prostitution: to promote, to advertise or to push, as in "ESPN has really been pimping T.O. a lot lately."

Then again, if I lived in Maywood, I don't know if I'd want a Player's Ball in my backyard, either. Would you?

2005-12-02T01:25:00.000-06:00

So I was having a drink with my girl AL last night, and she tells me about a guy she recently met, a friend of a friend who was wearing a wedding ring when she met him. Naturally, she assumed he was married. It turns out he was single; he just wears the ring to the bars because he thinks it makes women feel less threatened by him, like he's not going to try to pick them up, so they can just be themselves. Once they open up to him, he drops the bomb that he is, in fact, single. Apparently, this has been a successful tactic for him on several occasions.

Is this guy for real? And do real, live girls actually fall for this?

Have you ever made up a story this ludicrous to pick somebody up at a bar, and it actually worked? Because I would love to hear about it. And meet the idiot who fell for it. Hopefully you are not dating said idiot now. Because that would make you an idiot, too.

On a side note: I'm feeling agressive today. This kind of describes my mood, although the people I most want to beat down are not metioned on the list...Don't worry. It's not any of you. Probably.

2005-12-01T09:47:00.000-06:00

I think most people are familiar with the awesomeness that is Chuck Norris. Karate master and acclaimed actor, he brought to life a character most actors would give a vital organ to play: Walker, Texas Ranger. Yes, The Norris is a force to be reckoned with, a man who could take you down with a single roundhouse kick to the face. Yes, you. I don't care how tough you think you are--The Norris is tougher.

You can read about his awesome-ocity here

OK, so we've established that The Norris is awesome, right? Here's the problem: my two co-workers are obsessed with him. They happened upon the above list last week, and now The Norris factors into just about every conversation they have. A dramatization:

E: Hey, did you see that thing in the paper about that woman who got killed and robbed in Evanston?
Z: Yeah, that was crazy.
E: Man, if Norris was there, he would have just roundhouse kicked the guy who did it in the face, and it would have been over.
Z: Yeah he would have! Norris would have messed that guy up!!

Don't get me wrong--these guys are great, and I consider them my friends. But it's getting a little out of control. They are talking about buying and wearing these and putting these
up in their cubicles. I'm assuming they're being ironic about it, but the level of Norris Worship has reached an all-time high. Z has taken to making up his own "facts" about The Norris; he just sent this to me:

when the CIA was first created in 1947 by president truman, it was originally called CHUCK. it consisted of only one man, chuck norris, who dealt out justice around the world. future presidents, however, deemed this unfair and thought it would create such an unbalanced political and military climate that norris had to become a texas ranger and serve up roundhouse kicks on his own time.

Now before you start thinking, "Oh, she's just got Norris Envy. She's jealous that they're paying more attention to The Norris than they are to her," let me stop you. It's not that I don't love The Norris--I am a firm believer in Chuck's Code of Ethics.

It's just that I think that if things continue in this manner, I might have to stage an intervention. In the form of roundhouse kicks to the face.

2005-11-30T20:54:00.000-06:00

Hey, bitches! Yes, I finally caved and decided to start my own blog. Yeah, I'm a huge follower. Got a problem with that? Didn't think so.

What better way to start off my inaugural post than by giving a shout out to my Jewish homegirl, Elizabeth Brooks, whose Daddy paid $10 million to throw her a Bat Mitzvah party for the ages. Performers included Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Kenny G, Steven Tyler and Joe Perry from Aerosmith, Don Henley and Joe Walsh from The Eagles, Stevie Nicks, DJ AM and, drumroll please, everybody's favorite Hebrew Hammer: Fifty Cent.

That's right, for a mere $500,000 young Elizabeth got to hear the words that all Bat Mitzvah girls long to hear on the day that they become women: "Go shorty, it's your Bat Mitzvah, we gonna party like it's your Bat Mitzvah."

Would God have wanted it any other way?

Read about it here

Now, don't get me wrong; I rocked it hardcore at the Chicago-themed "Yvonne's Kind of Town" Bat Mitzvah party circa 1993. But if Howie Z. would have ponied up a couple of mill to pull down some actual talent for my soiree (rather than, say, the dude pushing 70 who provided excellent DJ services for my grandparents)--who would I have chosen?

Considering that fact that I was a pretty huge nerd whose first CD purchase was SWV (Sistas With Voices, holla!), I think my wish list would have looked something like this:

1. 4 Non-Blondes
2. Soul Asylum
3. Whitney Houston (pre- her "Crack is whack" days)
4. Jon Secada
5. Spin Doctors

And of course, the piece de resistance: Snow singing his acclaimed international hit, "Informer."

Who would you have secured for your rockin' Bar or Bat Mitzvah party? (I realize that 99 percent of people reading this are not Jewish, but rock the Jewfro for a moment and pretend your last name is Jackostein or Cliffordberg. Work with me here, folks.)