Adventure, Bucket List, Change, Contest, Humor, Lotto, Opinion, POOP, Winning

You’re a Winner

I have always been pretty lucky. When I was a kid, it seemed that any raffle I entered would be a winning experience for me. One time I won a bike kickstand at Bike Safety Day. My parents would take us kids to the Jersey Shore every summer and we would play games on the boardwalk. I’d come home with a zillion stuffed animals. Actually, we all would. The only difference between my sisters’ dolls and mine were how we won them. While my sisters would play games of skill, I’d play games of luck. I always had a knack for knowing what number to put my dollar down on. I once walked up to a claw game, stuffed a dollar in and instantly won a talking Steve Urkel doll. The claw went down and came up with a tiny piece of his rubber glasses holding on (almost literally by a thread). It’s like I just knew I’d win, so I played with complete confidence. Sadly, my 6th Sense has dimmed as I have grown older, but I do manage to carry some luck around with me every once in a while.


He always made me feel like a winner.

Every time I play the Lottery, I am beyond sure that I am going to win. I immediately start planning my life as a millionaire, convinced that I could buy the entire state of Maine if I wait a few years before splurging and let my money sit and collect interest. When I talk to Captain Clam about it, he brings up all of the places in the world we could possibly live, if even for just a few months of our lives.


Investing in Hope and Chance.

My first purchase would be a new pair of pants to replace the pair that I had soiled upon learning of my amazing luck. Then, of course, I would wear those pants to my new lawyer’s office to discuss what the heck was about to happen to me. I might buy a sandwich or pizza somewhere in between the pants and the Lawyer.  I am confident that I would opt to be paid out immediately, meaning I’d receive a little less that half of the entire sum after taxes (I’m okay with that).


Poop Jokes: Around since the beginning of time.

My next order of business would be typing lessons. If you have ever g-chatted with me, you know I am a drunk kitten on the keyboard. I can remember having maybe one lesson as a child, but never understood how many hours of my life would be spent clacking away at plastic letters, so I never took typing seriously.


Typing = Not Serious

My second order of business would be to move my home base. While the Brooklyn Studio apartment that Le Clam and I share with 4 kitties and 2 beta fish is very cozy, it also totally sucks. I think it’s fair to say that we deserve at least a one bedroom…. maybe even an extra half bath. I don’t know if we’d rent or own, but I would sure kiss this apartment (and most likely Brooklyn) goodbye.


Fit for a Clam Fam.

The third order of biz would be to get the hell out of town. I don’t know where we’d go first (and I certainly don’t want you to follow us there) or how long we’d stay, but I do know that I don’t want to live life without seeing wild zebras or the Pyramids in person. I want to feel small and insignificant (more so than I do now).


Captain Clam might be jealous, but the world will be our Oyster!

A priority would be donating some of the winnings. I would donate to my Alma Maters, SUNY Stony Brook and the Fashion Institute of Technology, and ask that they please design a bad ass bathroom with my name on it. Ideally the bathroom would be one stall with mood lighting and music playing, but that might be overkill (at least at Stony Brook). I would also hold a contest for prospective students who cannot afford school, but really really want and deserve to go. As a former Professional Student, I truly understand the passion for learning and the hunger of a starving artist/business school student. The contest would vary each year and would be the greatest contest of all time.

bathroom Raleigh NC

There is precedence for this request… and that last name is so close to my own…. Perhaps bathroom humor runs in the family?

I’d also like to spend time on making art. It’s an activity that I love doing, but have had to give up for the past few months due to laziness and lack of creativity. I don’t think that money will inspire me, but it might help me inspire myself by giving me the resources to afford to even step out of my house.


The good old days.

Of course I’d make Captain Clam an honest man and wear his pearl and become Lady Clam (if he’ll have the company of course). Then we could settle down and have an animal sanctuary in Alaska or Canada or somewhere cold (maybe even the entire state of Maine!). He has talked about wolves and snow leopards and I am thinking more of babies, but I’m sure our issues would be worked out rather harmoniously (as long as there are cats involved).


Apparently it IS a thing!

Another dream of ours is to own a vintage furniture shop. This dream will probably happen even if we don’t hit it big with 5 lucky numbers. You see, His Clamminess and I are huge furniture nerds. We met in a furniture studio and fell in love while talking about writing tables and chaise lounges (with or without tufting?). It’s all very romantic (as romantic as a Polished Espresso Mahogany finish will allow).


It’s true… Clams included.

I do also think that somewhere between the orders of business 1 and 3 , I would abandon facebook. Sorry, but it’s none of your business what I am doing with my money, and I would just irritate myself if I became one of those people who boasts about how rich they are. Boasting about awesomeness is a different story.


Of course our incredible families would reap from our ridiculous stroke of luck. They deserve SOMETHING for having to put up with the two of us for 30-something years. Clam and I are both the youngest of 3; his family is all boys, and mine is all girls. God Bless both of those sets of parents and siblings (I am at a loss in the picture department. Sorry!).

I have been reading up on winning millions and have come across stories where people ran through their money so quickly. I can see how spending money can become an easy task. I wonder what people spend their loot on, and look to celebrities and sports stars for assistance. It’s all CRAP for the most part. I’d like to think that money would not change me, but that would be a silly thought. I do, however, understand that money will not solve all of your problems, and you can only numb the pain for so long with huge toy purchases and other shit no one actually needs.


I do not need this.

The following things would not be on my shopping list, as I feel no sense of need or desire for them:

Caviar – Please google “caviar” and see how brutal the process of harvesting the caviar is. No thanks.

McMansion– That’s so 2004. Plus, I doubt that we need 18,625 SQFT of inside living space. I am dating a Clam for Christ sake!

Tiny Forks– I don’t understand them, don’t need them, and don’t want them.

Super Duper Cars– I don’t have a car now. I don’t really need one, let alone 6 (can you imagine trying to park in NYC with that many cars!?). If I did buy a vehicle, it’d probably be a little pick-up truck. That way, I can help my pals when they have to move!

$450,000 Crack Party– Tyrone Biggums, as portrayed by Dave Chapelle, lost it all! According to my research, a lot of people who lose their winnings do so on account of alcohol, strippers, and bad decisions made on drugs. I love to throw a party, but I think I’ll stick to wine, beer, and fancy tacos.

Cosmetic Surgery– I don’t want to be any other character but me. I might, however, consider Lasers to permanenty remove my mustache, and also removal of my tramp stamp (since it’s no longer 2002 and I am no longer 20).

Friends– Because that kind of weird shit happens. No thanks. Buy your own damn drinks!

Among the obvious expenses (like paying off student loans and other miscellaneous debt), here is a list of Weird must-haves in my millionaire shopping cart:

An Awesome Sofa– As stated above, Captain Clam and I love furniture. I also happen to work for one of the best Upholstery Workrooms in the universe. I think we could get a bad-ass deal on something beautiful, and even add our personal touches by having Le Clam himself design the rump rester.

A Bad Ass XEROX copy machine/scanner/printer- This is the only thing that I miss from my last job. I still think about it quite fondly.

Instant Photo Booth- Sometimes I get sentimental.

A Tree Farm– I love trees! I want to grow and raise all kinds of wood species so we can built our furniture sustainably. It’d also be nice to eat some home grown apples and other yummy stuffs.

Stained Glass Windows – Because why not?

Wanda Raimundi-Ortiz Painting/Drawing– Wanda is a friend of mine from half a lifetime ago. I met her because she was the previous tenant in my old Loft in the South Bronx. I have a few art pieces that were salvaged (one from the garbage and one was literally chopped out of a wall). I’d like to one day actually pay her for a gorgeous creation.

Well, this post has escalated out of control, but then again so has my imagination. On the eve of one of the largest Mega Millions drawings since the last largest Mega Millions drawing, I can’t help but be psyched. I never play Lotto (except for Scratch-off Fridays with Captain Clam every once in a while (75% of the time I win my money back – at least)), but I have a good feeling… kinda like I had when I walked up to the claw machine and won that Urkel doll. Even if I win my $5 back, I am content. If I win nothing, then I am out $5, but blogged up a storm, so it measures itself out somehow.

I am reading back and realizing that my dreams aren’t so far fetched. I mean, I already own some stained glass and just bought a really nice fancy futon (it has cup holders built in!). My advice to all of you, if any of you ever do win, is to sign the back of the ticket. I have seen too many documentaries about Lottery fraud (okay just one hour long show, but whatever) and I would hate to see that happen to me or you or anyone else (unless they were total dick-holes and deserved to be ripped off).

Mega Millions is 400 Million dollars, the drawing is Friday the 13th, and I’m feeling incredibly lucky these days… I better go find myself a good lawyer and sturdy pair of pants.

Adventure, Food, Life, Recycle, Rules To Live By, Save The World, Simplify

Things You Can Live Without

My sweet Clam and I have been going through a transitional phase lately. Well, actually, I have been going through a phase and have been relying on my Clam to guide me, since he is almost an extreme minimalist. When he first started working his clam charms on me, I lived in a 2000 sqft loft in the South Bronx that was filled with 7 years worth of accumulations; things that came from the trash or street, from friends and family,  things both purchased and made. Le Clam lived in a one bedroom apartment in Bed-Stuy and owned a tv, a bed, a coffee table and a night stand. I had 6 coffee tables, 14 tons of clothing, a lamp collection, among other bric-a-brac (I’m not a hoarder, I’m a collector!).

Needless to say when I left my cluttered paradise, I learned to live without a mound of shit and have been transitioning to life without many of the things I thought would be impossible to live without. I am feeling more aware of the things that fill my life and am being more accountable not just as a consumer or junk collector, but I am also being socially responsible as well as environmentally aware… well, I am trying to be, at least.

Designer Clothing

I don’t know about you, but I hate being a walking Billboard. I hate those big ugly handbags with logos all over them and their buckles and tassels and unnecessarily high price tags and terrible plastic knockoffs. I see no reason to have to buy clothing or accessories that are overpriced and will only be worn a few times before I realize just how ugly that “trend” is. Call me a Plain Jane, but a high maintenance lifestyle is not my type of back alley. I also hate the idea of spending money on something that gives free advertising for a brand. If I am going to be advertising for you, then shouldn’t I get paid? Sorry, no logos for this gal. Also, my ass is juicy enough, I don’t need a general announcement that states a quite obvious fact.


Bottled Water

I visit friends and family and everyone is all about the individual 8 oz bottles of water. Have my friends and family never heard of a Brita Water Filter and a re-usable water bottle/canteen?  I also notice that the biggest culprits of the bottles water sin-fest don’t recycle. Why is that? “Designer” water has a 280,000% markup (read more HERE) than tap water filtered through a state of the art Brita, and causes disgusting amounts of waste and litter. Bottled water is wasteful for both the environment and hard earned money. Get a filter and get on with life.



Your Parents Money

At a certain age, it’s embarrassing to need money from your parents. You hit this age by (hopefully) 25. By 25 you should be out of your parents’ house and making enough money to support yourself and whatever habits that you might be ailed with (like working out and eating). If you are still dependent on your parents for things other than their shared health insurance and their deep wisdom and endless advice, then it’s time to stop being a spoiled brat and get your shit together. While it is alright to accept money from your parents as a gift, it’s not okay to expect it.


Oh mom. You’re so funny.


You don’t need religion. You only think that you need religion. There are plenty of ways to find meaning and purpose in this life.  Try falling in love or starting a family. You can even (gasp) volunteer and help your fellow man. You are a good person and THIS is the life that matters… not a life after death in a magical place where the streets are paved with gold (seriously?). When you die you return to the earth, just like all other living things. Do you think a plant goes to plant heaven when it dies? No. It turns into nutrients that help other plants grow. Some of these plants feed human and animals. The stomach lining and digestive track of an animal can hardly be compared to any sort of gilded heaven that I have ever heard of.


If you’re lost, then go find yourself.

A Car

I realize that in some situations this is not a realistic scenario, but public transportation does exist in most towns, and bicycle technologies have existed since the early 1800’s. There are also these two long bendy things attached to our lower bodies. They are called “legs” and can also be used for transportation.  While a car is difficult to live without, it is easy to afford NOT to have a car. You are not paying money on gas, insurance, the loan you took out to buy the coolest, largets, shiniest car you could find, tolls, maintenance, or any sorts of tickets, parking or otherwise. Just because you don’t have a car doesn’t mean you can’t BE in a car. You can rent a car, using car share programs like ZIP CAR. You can call a cab or car pool. And there are always those sexy little Vespa-esque scooters that can help you toot around town.


Early bicycle built for two designed for hot dates in sexy outfits as well as car-pooling.

Plastic Disposables

Plastic forks, knives, spoons, plates, razors, bags, wrap, cups, table cloths… shall I bore you with more? We are so wasteful and don’t even realize it. There is no reason not to have an extra cup or mug at work (or bring in utensils). We are lazy and we either don’t care or pretend not to. Sometimes I open my purse and laugh at myself for having a million spoons clanking around in there. It’s more rewarding than finding broken soup spoons on the beach at Coney Island in August (soup at the beach? Seriously?).

Plastic is magic, but we use it so wastefully. I was once guilty of throwing out plastic sandwich bags, even when they just had bread in them. Since I met my Clam, it seems silly to throw a bag out just because it had bread in it. BREAD! We wash and reuse and that’s the full story. Not only do we save on plastic baggies, we reduce our human impact on the rest of the world. The same can go for disposable razors and other plastic items. Find a better alternative instead of the lazy way out.

Click here for My Plastic Free Life dot Com.


It’s pretty amazing that our society has reached a point where the effort necessary to extract oil from the ground, ship it to a refinery, turn it into plastic, shape it appropriately, truck it to a store, buy it, and bring it home is considered to be less effort than what it takes to just wash the spoon when you’re done with it.


Just kidding.


Pet Clothes

As adorable as it is to see a little dog wearing a raincoat and rain boots, it’s just fucking stupid. The only time I can recall ever seeing the need for animal fashion is on horses… in winter… outside. Does your dog really need a raincoat? And rain boots? You give your dog a bath frequently, right?  Does your dog use a shower cap when bating? Unless it’s Halloween, your dog looks stupid and is probably more likely to not get laid dressed in an argyle sweater vest, tie and hipster glasses.


An excellent visual pun.

Social Media

Yes, it is possible to live in analog. People have been doing it for millions of years. There are even technologies called telephones, where you can call someone up and say “Hi. I miss you”… or share a fantastic story about how your kid said something silly or you can even describe your lunch to them… better yet, invite them to lunch so that they can see it in person. This is called interpersonal communication and is a skill that is quickly dwindling from the culture of current society and future generations. I never thought of communicating face to face as something that needed to be learned, but that is where we are heading… quickly.

There is no reason that we should live our lives out on social media for all the world to see. Seriously, most people could give two fucks about what’s on tonight’s menu or how adorable the 258th baby picture of your 2 week old baby is (although, they are probably really cute). Most of us are guilty of an over indulgence of social media, but consider this: Have you ever asked yourself “How many friends do I truly have?” I can tell you that the answer is NOT 741. Wake up, friends. Life cannot be lived while sitting down at a computer machine.


Oops I made too much. What ever shall I do?

A Smart Phone

Get your face out of your phone. I am so sick of walking around and everyone is so absorbed by what is going on on their phone. Yes, it is an amazing technological feat that the entire world is literally at the tips of our fingers, but do we need to let such a small device run our lives? NO! Smart Phones can go to hell. As nice as it is to know where my closest bank branch is or how fast I can get from A to B on Hopstop, I do not need to be distracted by my twitter feed or Facebook messages while simply trying to read a text or retrieve a voicemail (ok, you all know I never activate my voicemail, but you understand what I mean). I have been living without a smart phone since June, and I won’t lie that it was really hard at first, but now I love it. I am not one of those people walking around with my face in my phone. I am smiling at you and saying good morning.


Christ! Just send a text!



GPS is making us dumber. It also takes the adventure of going on an adventure. While it is helpful, it also makes you feel reliant on a machine to solve your problem. This thing tells you where to go and what to do in a British accent. You don’t have a problem with that? Because I surely do (of course if it were Samuel L. Jackson, I’d be okay with that, Mother Fucker).

gps wrong

Fast Food

When I say “Fast Food” I am talking about nasty gross McDonalds, Burger King, Wendy’s, KFC — those processed fast food mega giants. You know, there are other places to get food fast, that is healthy and yummy and nurturing, but those corporate slow suicide eateries are not it. In a blatant effort to toot my own horn, I have not had fast food in about two years. I did sample a bite about a year and a half ago and realized just how disgusting fast food is. Seriously, it’s not even delicious. There is nothing more satisfying than a gorgeous, juicy burger, but only if it’s home made (that’s what we are having for dinner tonight, don’t worry, I’ll facebook a picture of it). Make your own menu and learn how to cook. You’d be surprised how talented you can be in the kitchen (or the bedroom (read more HERE).


Of course I’ll have fries with that!

Cable & Television

Go TV Free!! You don’t need that machine rotting your brain. Cancel your cable and throw that damn contraption out (or donate it (or sell it)). You don’t need it. There are way better ways to unwind and actually make contact with other people, like your mate or your children. You can play games or read books. You can go play outside (gasp!) or have a real conversation. The TV sucks up way too much quality time to be of significant value to relationships or quality time with the people you love. Even Netflix and Hulu are dangerous luxuries that take time away from the stuff that matters and can form habits of laziness (as well as drinking too much beer and eating too many tortilla chips or letting the TV babysit your kids). HERE is an excellent post on living without TV.


I am working on embracing this list as a set of goals towards living a simpler life. None of us are perfect, and since the dawn of the modern era of technology and convenience, it’s second nature to participate in waste and want. While some of this list ridiculous to most of you, it’s not impossible. I am adding to my life by subtracting from it, hoping to live more by having less. Simplicity, just like Captain Clam taught me.

What kinds of things could you subtract from your life to make it better?

Adventure, Employment, I hate cats!, I love cats!

Mattress Emergency


It would seem that the kitties need a babysitter. Since Captain Clam and I have returned to the land of Capitalism, the babies have peed inside of my favorite purse, broken a vase (destroying the plant inside), peed all over my fire escape garden, and destroyed our bed…. and when I say ” destroyed” I mean we had to throw the mattress out because they pissed their hearts out all over it and all of our bedding. Apparently they need a larger litter box for their bathroom pleasure. Jerks.

The romance surrounding a bed is so very important, although the Clam and I have been camping on the floor for a few days (efforting at the passion of being completely uncomfortable and sleeplessly grouchy (makes pitching a tent in the Living Room completely undesirable)) with the intention of taking advantage of Sleepy’s Labor Day Sale (can you believe it’s already Labor Day)? When we went to Sleepy’s, The Mattress Professionals, the Mattress on sale was unbelievably awful.  We sat down on the the floor sample and I am pretty sure that I actually broke it (and ew, I hate sitting on mattresses that are not covered. Like could you please put a sheet on this thing? Raw mattresses just plain gross me the eff out. They are greasy and dirty looking).

So, with the nasty mattress being so cheap and gross and springy, we learned that delivery was still one day away (plus 100 million dollars extra) and Customer’s Own Pick up was, like, One Million Years away. Now, there are a few “furniture” stores in our neighborhood, so we decided to shop around and see what the sales were and maybe even find something right around the corner from the Chateau de Clam. Well, it seems like it’s okay to sell “refurbished” mattresses in NYC, even with the bed bug epidemic (so gross to even think about). We didn’t even look, but there are rumors and I am sure to be overreacting, because I am so totally misunderstood.

So returning home totally disappointed, the Clam and I hunker down for another romantic night of sleeping on the floor. We set up our campsite on the IKEA area rug and gather a small (and I mean small) camping mattress, a yoga mat, a sleeping bag, a fleece blanket, some fabric samples (used to make extra pillows (that just sucked and were not even worth the effort)), pillows, and a crocheted poncho my mom made for me. Now that I am writing this, we seriously need to do more laundry or buy more blankets (how sad we are always playing “catch up!”).

After a few days of mattress turmoil, we realized just how stupid we were for sleeping on the make-shift living room campground. We went to the dollar store and bought a blow up mattress (WHAT IDIOTS!) I heart you dollar store)). I don’t think I have ever slept so soundly on a blow up mattress, and it certainly felt like I had never slept so soundly in my entire life. Sadly, I am still exhausted and my body is aching like a MoFo.

Every night I have to add air to our lovely new mattress (and I totally pretend it’s floating on the lava sea and if my feet hang off or touch the floor then they are total goners) and every morning when my handsome Clam rolls off of our new temporary bed and desperately stumbles to his feet (he’s 6’2), my body seeps to the floor and I am reminded of how awful it was to camp out inside. I am sorry to have waited so long to remember that blow up mattresses even existed. Silly Goose on my part!

The plus side to this debacle is that now we have a blow up mattress, which means that we can have grown up sleepovers, that is if the cats don’t sabotage our new accessory. I have clipped their nails in anticipation for the uprising. We are now in defense mode and holding the opposition at bay…. for now…


For your viewing pleasure…


Adventure, farts

I Like Farts

It’s true. We all love farts. And if you don’t like farts, then you are a fucking liar.

A good friend recently Facebook messaged me, asking if I had ever farted so smelly that it was like something had died inside of my bowels. Of course we have all been there. I answered back with, “Yes. It will be so bad that it actually is impressive.” Then about 10 minutes later messaged her to let her know how proud of myself I was for just doing what she had mentioned.

I am shameless (most of the time). I can talk about anything, and definitely don’t mind talking about poo or pee or other bodily functions. I’m okay with all of that to the point that my friends know they can talk about it (they even call me out on it when I don’t realize I am talking about it). Of course I keep my own bodily functions inside (pun), and always give a good bathroom freshening when I am done using (or abusing) it.


And my Best Friend sent me this today, Aug 5, 2013. Just goes to show this blog is straight up legit… and so are my friends.

Bathroom humor has been around for ages. I’d like to think that bodily function jokes were one of the original “things” to ever laugh about. I mean, every living creature does it. Hell, dogs get to do it in public. Why is it okay for a dog to pee in public, but humans can’t find relief in a dark alley in an emergency situation? Totally not fair.


Another beauty sent to me this past week. Ahhh My friends know me so well!

Whenever I go to a concert I visit is the toilet immediately. I grab extra toilet paper to ensure a semi-hygenic visit at the end of the show. Whether or not I use the portable bathrooms or the cleaner environment of the woods or parking lot, I am wiping with a clean piece of tissue. If you are “Shit out of Luck”, you can always take a piece of paper, crumple the hell out of it to make it soft, and use that for wiping.

You might be wondering why I am talking about all this nasty stuff (that’s totally natural, by the way). Well, Captain Clam and I just purchased a ridiculous amount of sushi and I threw it all up. By “all of it,” I mean, ALL of it. A total waste on my part, but maybe it was bad? The Clam feels great, but he’s a clam and used to seafood. Clams will eat anything! So, we really have no idea.

Anyway, back to poop.

What do you do when you can’t poop? Captain Clam believes in coffee and cigarettes, but gives me prunes, which I love, but I have grown an immunity to them. It’s all rather tragic. My secret is to relax the muscles and jog in place a little bit. That somehow does the trick 99% of the time.The other 1% I just cry and bloat and eat a bunch of fruit.

I recently purchased a huge box of Epsom Salts, because I love to take baths and ran out of my fancy Israeli bath salts (not the hallucinogenic kind that turn you into a flesh eating zombie). I was reading the box for all of the amazing things you can use Epsom Salts for, and apparently you can make an elixir for constipation. How wonderful!

On a  side note, I recently cut the shit out of my finger whilst “fixing” then fan. I took an Epsom Salts bath a few days later, and within 24 hours the cut on my finger was significantly healed. I was balls-out completely amazed, so I took another bath with comparable results. This mineral bath is the shit! Yay!

Back to fun, gross stuff.

Did you know that asparagus is really good for your urinary tract? It actually makes your pee smell, but that means it’s working! Beets are good for your liver and will actually turn your pee red! In most cases, I’d be freaked, but it’s normal to experience multi colored urine while under the influence of specific vegetables. Fruits also help with certain male functions… All I’m gonna say is, “Gentlemen, eat pineapples.”

There are lots of gross things. Like, cleaning your feet and toes. I could sit here for hours and pick the cuticles from my toenails since I am too broke to get a pedicure (well, not with the Clam working full time recently, the first thing I am going to do is get my feet did!). There are things that we women do to our bodies that we can’t even talk about (well, I can!).

Seriously, when is the last time you cleaned your belly button?

And when was the last time you talked about your body with a good friend? You’d be surprised at how much fun it could be, or what you can discover about the human apparatus. Sometimes you can mention one little thing, and BOOM, you have discovered that you are actually sick and maybe on the road to some sort of disease (goodness gracious, I hope not!). I know talking about poop and other stuff might make it hard to be the self righteous and “Proper” people who belong to humanity, but just get over it. We all fart. We all shit.  We all pee and we certainly all get sick. My grandmother died of breast cancer because it used to be “taboo” to talk about such things. I mourn her everyday. What a loss to the world! And what a ridiculous life for my Grandma Sophie to live! You should NEVER be ashamed of yourself, especially in sickness.

And sometimes, we’ll shit all over ourselves. If you have never shit your pants, then you are not even human. We have all done it and surely remember it. Even in a thong. Yup, I went there.

There is no shame in being human.

Dear friends. I love you, and you know this. Take care of yourselves and mind your poo. Talk about it. Pay attention. Most people only notice their poo when it’s not moving. Well, get some Epson Salts and get your shit together (um, literally). And for goodness sake, clean your belly button and behind your ears. Seriously, when is the last time you even thought to do so? Do it for me and you and Captain Clam.

PS. Happy Birthday Linda.

Adventure, Employment, Food, Unemployment

Captain Clam Goes to Work

Captain Clam Joins the Clam Race!

Captain Clam Joins the Great Clam Race!

YAY! One of us is gainfully employed! Of course the cats are just lazy little heffers and don’t really budge from their queen size throne all day, so we count very little on them for financial support (although the bugs are kept at bay (Squirrel likes to eat them as an afternoon snack)).

Squirrel: Captain of Bug Patrol Services.

Squirrel: Captain of Bug Patrol Services.

So, Captain Clam, after a long job search has finally found work worthy of his immense talents. He had been working freelance for a few years as an industrial designer (mostly furniture and all that sort of interesting stuff that design nerds feast on), but the market has proven to be too awkward and fluxuated for guaranteed survival. It’s either a million dollars a week or $150 a month.

Once he began his search, Clam realized just how hard it is to find a job, especially in the summer when everyone is hiring interns. Or they are hiring overly qualified, desperate people for mid level jobs. It’s a sad sob story (See Adventures In Unemployment).

Anyway, The Clam has been heading off to work at an ungoldy hour since Tuesday. The job is growing on him. The commute, however, is not – an hour and a half each way. uggh! He is commuting to the Bronx from Brooklyn, which wouldn’t be too bad, but we live kinda deep in the Brooklyn, and his job is really deep in the Bronx. We are now looking for apartments closer to his job (Hopefully my old stomping ground of Mott Haven.


Shameless Plug for my pal, Jamie Jones and New York Graphics Studio. BUY THIS SHIRT HERE:

I feel bad about his commute time and keep telling him about this awesome book that I have read and love… it’s a Roald Dahl Short Stories book (for grown ups like me (it’s so awesome!)) Check it out at Best Of Roald Dahl. He told me if I don’t shut up about it, he’s gonna hide the book and no one will ever read it again! So I gave him a different book this morning. I will, however, revisit the Roald Dahl discussion in a few weeks (I can be very persuasive).

I have been getting up with him at 6:20 every morning, packing his lunch and even leaving little love notes in the “bag of yum.” Today’s note was from one of our cat’s Wee (he insisted on writing Captain Clam a letter in regards to the greasiness of his lunch). The Cap‘n used to do the same for me when I was employed, but too poor and fat for take-out everyday.

He Loves Me!

He Loves Me!

Of course, I take a 14 hour nap after he leaves for the trenches and then get up and am completely besides myself because I have no idea what the day (or afternoon) has in store for me.

So I clean (kinda). And I cook. And then I clean from cooking and then cook some more (I love to cook!). I prepare a few blog ideas, work on a few projects, eat, check facebook and blog stats every 10-15 seconds (I have twitter, but find it kinda boring. Follow me anyway! @yourmommasmomma), and maybe sweep a little and pet the kitties. I go on a beer run around 4, since I feel like there is a happy hour somewhere. When Captain C. calls me around 5, I slap my apron back on, start the oven and begin cooking all the food I prepared for first half of the afternoon.

Yesterday I made the mistake of going grocery shopping alone. I thought I could do it all in one trip. Normally The Clam comes with me and carries all the heavy stuff. I thought, “Well, I’m a tough bitch, I can do this!” Ha! Tough Bitch my Ass! All of my canvas shopping bags were full and I had about 6 plastic bags (that’s what you get when you go to the store hungry). I went to four different stores and was stupid enough to buy 10 pounds of kitty litter. Although I was only three blocks from my apartment, I had to stop four times to rest. No one helped me, although my rear end received numerous shout outs along the way.

Today, my arms hurt.

And now I give you BAG LADY by ERYKAH BADU (she is the shiz on a shiz sandwich)

Tonight we are eating spaghetti in a garlic/olive oil sauce with shrimp, brocolli and fresh tomatoes. His new co-workers are gonna be so jealous tomorrow. I hope he brags about his little home-maker (AKA unemployed) girlfriend and her phenomenal cooking abilities (he better!). I should stop (but should I?). He once called me a “short order chef.” And that, my friends, is a cold hearted Captain Clam Compliment! Of course, I am the queen of making something out of nothing, and making it DAMN GOOD! I also make things sometimes that are just plain gross and inedible. We try to eat them and then just laugh and throw the meal out and order a pizza. The true test is to see if MR T. (one of our other cats) will eat it (She will seriously eat anything).

Mr T laughing at my attempt at cooking. You think this is a joke? jerk!

Mr T laughing at my attempt at cooking. You think this is a joke? Jerk!

I hate to admit it, but I am growing less bored each day with Captain Clam out of the house. It’s nice to miss him! After spending 3 months virtually glued together, we actually have stuff to talk about that isn’t cat related or laundry-argument focused. Of course now I have to do laundry! He told me to wait for him to do laundry, but I know he didn’t mean it!

Oh, Captain Clam, I love you!

I made him wear this tie on his first day (no I didn't).

I made him wear this tie on his first day (no I didn’t).


This post was approved by Captain Clam.

Opposites Attract

Things That Don’t Mix So Good

This post goes out to my mom, a sassy, yet extremely polite, little lady who gives the best damn hugs and head rubs in all the land. If you ever meet her, she will make sure you are well fed… and that’s an understatement.

Undoubtedly , there are things that are in the natural world, spiritual world, and technological world that simply will not mix. Here are some of my latest findings. I know how curious you are, since I am so cool and all.

Moms and Computer Machines

This little tale is what inspired the blog post you are currently reading. I hope my mom can forgive me, as she explicitly asked me not to write about the incident, when during said incident, I told her I was going to blog about it.

I called my mom asking for a favor. I have to prove to my Credit Card Company that I am indeed collecting unemployment and am eligible to not have to pay monthly payments until forever. I do not have a printer to print out the Official Benefits Page (I effing HATE Unemployment), so I give mom a call and email her the page. Of course she obliges my request (because she loves me so much). She has to go upstairs to her computer room, wherein lies her “new” computer. The computer wants to update 1 million applications. We wait…. and wait…. ultimately the file will not open. So I send her the file in a different format…. three times. Then we check her “other” computer. Still no success.

Long story short… After three emails, 12 different ways of trying to open the file to print, one dead cell phone, yelling and screaming into speaker phone, sweat, tears, and about 9 hours, she calls me back to let me know that my sister (love you, Chrissy) came over to help her and all she needed to do was download “Adobe Player.”   Thanks, Mom!


Mom, You’re the Best!

Deadlines and Poor Internet Speeds

It is seriously like your computer KNOWS just how stressed out you are when that deadline is lurking. I swear I give off an electric energy that makes my computer either NOT work or the internet ceases to function properly until I calm the fuck down. WHY?


Oh My God, are you KIDDING ME?

Bras and Heat Waves

OH MY GOD!! Please make it stop!

As soon as you hit a certain age (30, which is the new 25) you sweat like all the sweat that you ever had in your whole body has never let itself loose. Any movement makes the ducts flow, dripping saline and grossies, and you are left with boob sweat and stained t-shirts and ruined dresses and poor self-esteem.

And when you do take your bra off, you realize just how big your boobies actually are and you praise the gods for the heat wave… until you need milk and eggs and cheese. Then you go to the store and forget you have no bra on… and even the girls are looking.


WooHoo! No Bra!

Whiskey and Wine


Gaaahhhhhh! I am such a mess!

DON”T EVER DO IT.  It’s just ugly… like Angry, Sad Crying on Valentine’s Day. True Story.

High Heels on a Picnic

This action is actually Do-Able, if you are careful, play your cards right, and simply don’t give a damn about the shoes you have on. Any situation can be overcome with a little bit of grace.


Strawberry Fields Forever!

Every year, a Strawberry Fields Picnic in Central Park (Manhattan, duh) is held and hosted by me and a group of friends (who are now scattered across the country and world). This year, I did an early Spring Picnic. Captain Clam and I needed to get out of Brooklyn and see some old friends. Of course, Central Park is a reasonable meeting area for our  (generally) debaucherous gathering.

What I didn’t depend on was the attendance of my good old friend from Long Island popping in with her New Girlfriend. Of course she had RSPV’d via facebook, but facebook is so unreliable when it comes to me and event planning. Everyone is a liar or a pessimist these days. ANYWAY, the new girlfriend shows up dazzling (!) as if she is meeting the most important people in the world (OMG, me!). So here she is, buxom, beautiful, totally confident, wearing full make-up, toting replica pearls, and dragging along a bag full of quiche (qhiche!!)…. and wearing heels. Not little heels, but HEELS. I do believe I  made a joke about it (someone had to), but I definitely made sure I could get away with the joke before it fell out of my foul mouth. See was game and totally wonderful!


Oh, I got this.

Eventually we came back to Captain Clam and my BK studio to catch up. We ended up playing the “BEST OF BOTH WORLD’S DRINKING GAME“. It’s the double Start Trek TNG BORG episode drinking game that I made up. You drink whenever anyone says BORG. It’s dangerous. I am still finding replica pearls in my apartment!

Car Keys and a 12 Pack 

Unless you’re hanging out with 12 people for at least an hour, DON”T DO IT. It’s dumb… and so are you (if you do it).


 Strong Accents and Telephone Calls

Wowzers. I just can’t do it.  My old Landlord is Isreali, and I would make him meet me so we could talk. I had no idea what he was saying when we were on the phone. I have a heavy Lawn Guy Land accent myself, so it’s like a turkey and a chicken talking (does that even make sense?). It’s not happening… It’s like calling an American based company and getting an “outsourced” employee. The American Dream is spreading! Sadly, I am void of accent comprehension. It’s not anybody’s fault.


I’m sorry, can you please repeat that?

Cats and Cats

I am a crazy cat lady. You did not hear it here first, unless you never met me (a future blog post is in the works). I love cats and I love MY cats…except Squirrel, he’s a dick, and he belongs to Captain Clam.


I might be pretty, but I’m still a dick!

Squirrel was acquired during the small amount of time that Captain Clam and I lived in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. He showed up so cute and little at our window one day. We fed him and eventually let him in and he peed on our bed.

When we had to move, he was still a little baby. Captain Clam was in love with him and I couldn’t say no… so we took him to the neuter van ( and brought him into the family. My older cats hated him… and they still hate him one year later. Sadly, the little bastard hates me too, and all I want is a good snuggle from time to time. He eats my plants and terrorizes the geriatric cat population. It sucks getting old.

Shout out to Wee, Mr. T, and Merdok. Don’t let Squirrel Bring you Down!

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Tequila and Anger 

DON’T DO IT …Unless you really just wanna dance!


Good Shows and Bad Endings

This heading is self explanatory. But let’s recap, shall we?

Merlin – skipping ahead for no effing reason = not cool. And what happened to the white dragon?

Movie: City of Angels – Are you serious? I started crying from halfway through the movie until the very end! WHY?!

Lost – Just plain stupid. Wasted my time imagining the possibilities.

Arrested Development – Should have just left it where it was. Or maybe it was because I watched that last Netflix season in one day…. Sadly, I wasn’t entertained.

Nip/Tuck – Where was the drama in the ending? BORING!

Movie: Cabin in the Woods – So good until the end. LAME! But thanks for the Sigourney Weaver Cameo!

Sopranos – LAME. Sorry. Please don’t give me concrete shoes and RIP Mr. G.

Smallville – We never really got to see you fly! Why Not? Whaaaa!!!! ‘Nuff Said.

Movie: The Ledge: First of all, Jax from SOA would never do that! Or would he for Tara? I don’t know! BUZZ KILL… Did you REALLY have to kill him at the end?! So LAME! But Liv Tyler was a beauty, as usual! Damn.

The Tudors Why not just go on to the end? Kill that cheating bastard? History demands his death!

Dollhouse:  Why was this show ever even canceled? Eliza Dushku is so hot right now! And this show could have been even hotter. 2 seasons?  Gross.

Prison Break – Seriously. How many prisons are you planning on breaking out of? And REALLY? You can remove tattoos just like that? BORING… and NOT TRUE.


What the….?

I know, I know…. I only touch the surface and there are a lot more incompatible things in this world. It’s a weird world though. Luckily, you can disagree with me, or even add to my obvious very in-depth scientific research. I’d like to hear from you. There are some things that don’t mix, but sometimes they do.

I love you.

Thank you to My Sweet Mom, Carol, of course, Priscilla and JoJo, My kitties, Isaak, JKwasna, JDHuizing, LTDan, GBueche, and Captain Clam.