I had my bridal shower today and was thinking about the Thank You cards I need to write.
I hate writing thank you cards a little bit less than I hate getting them. It’s not an environment thing, I waste paper constantly. I also appreciate a good old, “thank you”. But I hate trash.
I decided it would be funny to post an ad on Craig’s list for someone to write my Thank You cards for me. Not because I will actually hire anyone, I am too cheap and too guilty for all of that. But, because I would love to read the response emails I will receive. I will keep you informed.
Reply to: your anonymous craigslist address will appear here
Posted: 2013-02-03, 8:53PM EST
I am getting married and hate filling out Thank You cards. They are as arbitrary as the messages in a year book, so I figure it’s not an issue to get someone else to do this for me.
I have a list of what everyone gave me thus far at my shower, and will do the same for my wedding.
I need someone who can create poetic Thank You’s that my guests will soak up.
I am willing to give like 5-7% of what I earn in wedding cash in lieu of an hourly wage, I also have some gifts I don’t really want.
Serious applicants only.
Thank God “It’s my turn.”
I HAVE JURY DUTY. Granted I was unaware this notice also requested the return of a questionnaire and I posted my notice proudly on my refrigerator to remind me of my date with the law. The jury selection commission sent me a strongly worded letter a few weeks later informing me that further action would be taken would I not return their questionnaire. Obviously information used to sign up for a gap credit card is directly pertinent to a judicial case.
I arrived and sat next to a large woman reading a book entitled, “they are getting together without me, and other concerns.” We were going to be best friends.
Then my name was called.
I am currently in a jury box with 49 other Philadelphians in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania waiting to be interviewed by lawyers to see if I am suited for trial. I have never won any contest in my life, yet somehow I was called first for a panel on a criminal case.
I was thinking of playing racist in order to be sent home, but the only woman here I want to associate with is the black woman I am sitting next to. If I am to perform a deceit, I need to play it full on. I am an actress for heaven’s sake.
Which reminds me of the time in college when I was late for ballet. Performance classes were based on attendance as well as performance so being late counted against your grade. Thankfully, it was Ash Wednesday, so I just put my cigarette out and rubbed the tip of the butt through my forefingers. A smudge on my forehead and I was good to go with an applicable excuse for being tardy. A good actor uses their surroundings and commits.
This is why I cannot be a racist today. It simply will not be believable. Meisner training be damned.
I think today I will use the twelve step program I have been neglecting for months as my scapegoat. The belief system behind such a program would not support the judgement of others. It is for this very reason, I will not be a viable candidate for trial. That and I want a cigarette.
You know how you wonder sometimes if your boss secretly hates you? You exchange pleasantries so you must be on good terms, yet there’s that a sneaking suspicion that after exiting a room the smile on your bosses face turns into an eye roll and a snide remark?
Let me assure you… Your boss hates you.
I have worked enough management positions to hear the “behind the curtain” talk about how frustrated bosses get with their staff. It’s really all they talk about when they aren’t bitching about their own bosses.
They hate you. You are a constant disappointment.
Just recently, I met with a restaurant owner who is seemingly adored by his employees. It’s a “big happy family” at this establishment and as I interviewed to be brought on as a third manager I wondered why another hand was needed in such a dynamic.
During my fourth interview, I asked the owner if the waitresses who had now seen me multiple times had any inkling that another person was about to infiltrate their well established click.
“They aren’t smart enough for that.” he replied.
I realized at that point that this beloved owner was no immune to hating his staff than an owner who was despised. His guise for hated? Kindness.
He must be bringing me in to be the bitch he was too nice to be.
I accept my role and pray for these girls.
These girls think they are friends with one another too. Thats very cute-
They are young.
They will learn that there is a thing as work friends because after you no longer work together, you are no longer friends.
When my last company had a change in management it took about .3 seconds before work friends started turning on one another. Keeping their job was more important than friendships of convienance and even though they weren’t not on trial, they’d throw a coworker under the bus if it meant getting closer to the new boss man.
It’s a confusing assessment as to whether your work associates are friends when you hang out with them day in and day out. These people become the closest to you. But are you hanging out outside of work? Do you talk on the phone?
I work under a rule of thumb that if you still associate with a “work friend” 6 months after the job ends… you are friends.
The transition of work relationships to friendships exist 27% of the time and that’s an accurate assessment that I just made up.
I wish these girls luck. That is until I fire them.
I am typically the boss. And I assure you, I may hate you.
If they are on sale, how are they ALSO free?
Jay Z is a moron. His song, “30 something” is supposed to depict the new saying “30 is the new 20.” He goes on about how, as opposed to his 20’s, he now has more money, his car is more fly, and that he no longer wishes to venture to the mall (the 15 year old at Orange Julius has one less asshole to wait on).
While I concur that I am no longer the wild mess of a sub-human that I was in my 20’s, I have an issue with the notion that “growing up” needs to be met with this trend of forgiveness on a number.
Every decade is a difficult transition. I wanted to write initially about my struggles as a 30 something who owns a home, is getting married, and doesn’t see herself ever having children. My friends, on the other hand, seem to hover in two groups: those who have kids and those who get drunk daily. Personally, neither of those options appear palatable. I am in some limbo where I am too selfish and poor to have any children but I also have no interest in being out any later than 10pm, so that leaves me watching a lot of TV with my dog.
The idea that my uncomfortability with myself has anything to do with my age is bullshit.
It has to do with the choices I have made in my life.
For instance, If I hadn’t been a junkie I may be up for parting with my pals more often. Shit, I am jealous when I hear their illustrious stories of passing out in a bathroom stall. My brain hardly ever hurts anymore unless I have an actual head cold.
And kids might not look so scary if I had stayed in the suburbs like some of my other girlfriends. The city is a different animal. It moves quicker yet maturity move slower. I’m inclined to say that city fumes may even slow the reproductive organs.
All I know is that I am happy in my stasis. It has taken many years for me to get here, so status quo is just about all I can handle.
What my 20 something friends and my 30 something friends are doing is irrelevant. I am doing well.
I could be better. I have been worse. I have no idea how to relate to everyone. I have no interest in trying.
I am 99% sure Jay Z will look back on his 30’s and think his “swag” back then ain’t shit compared to his 40’s.
Being someone who falls asleep to the hum of a television, I always flip through the channels before going to sleep. Recently, I came the most brilliant game show I have ever seen. I haven’t slept since.
I’m an avid fan of the Game Show Network, it’s my go-to as far as “fall asleep” material. Richard Karn’s unimpressive presence is uninteresting enough to be just a the lullaby I need. However on a Thursday night around 12am, all of this was about to change.
A beautiful woman appeared on television with a suitcase in front of her that would not be shown to the audience until the end of the program. Next to her… was Jerry Springer.
Jerry told the studio audience that this woman had a secret in this luggage. Was it that she had maxed out her ex-boyfriend’s credit card on bubblegum and buttplugs? Had she once been held in a Mexican Prison for running a Drug Cartel? Will she only pee outdoors?
These were not the particulars of this episode, but they were just as ridiculous, and I was sold.
This was a dating show to boot. This woman and her baggage would be meeting three men with three suitcases of their own; small, medium, and large. Being of excellent moral fiber it would be up to the woman to tell these men whether their “baggage” was in fact, too much for her to handle.
The premise of the show is that “Everyone brings baggage into a relationship- but only on Baggage do they bring it all to the first date”.
When interviewed, Jerry Springer described his own show as, “a step up because the people here have teeth.” He is very proud.
Interestingly, what bothered me most was the long commute these relationships would require. Most of these potential matches lived in different States all around the Country. Couldn’t the matchmaking wizards at GSN find singles that live within a 10-20 mile radius of one another? How could love based on mutual shortcomings ever thrive with such a distance between it?
I couldn’t believe some of the admissions in these suitcases. “I am part of an orgy society”, “I wear adult diapers”, “I am bad in bed”… “I may or may not have murdered my Grandmother”.
After a barrage of what should have been embarrassment to these people, the original dater whittles down the three contestants and chooses whose baggage is the most acceptable (or least intolerable) for them. Then, when you think you have learned enough about these individuals, you get to find out what’s in the picker’s suitcase. The chosen contestant then gets to chose whether THAT baggage is then too much for THEM. It’s an episode of Melrose Place in a dating show.
Do these relationships work? I went online to find out.
I did not find any statistical data, however I DID find a casting notice for the show.
NO GLORIA! IT”S Actors? SAY IT AIN’T SO!
It’s not a bad deal actually. “ Singles ages 28-45. $500 to participate in a one day in studio shoot”, the ad says nothing about an actual date so I would imagine that following through with the actual purpose of the program would be up to the discretion of the “winners”.
I looked at the show in a new light. Amazing improv practice for struggling actors in the California area. I enjoyed that. Bravo brilliant actors. Bravo.
I am an avid GSN watcher. My 2nd favorite show, as I like to start a blog as randomly as reviewing number two, is “The Family Feud.” This little gem, first hosted by Richard Dawson in 1976, has seen many transformations over the years but has remained true to one winning formula: Two families compete against each other in a contest to name the most popular responses to a survey question posed to 100 people.
I love this show for every reason. Naturally, depending on which host you are watching the episode can be more entertaining than others. Louie Anderson reruns almost never air, he was a waste of a host. He is an example of what I call, “a mouth breather.” and he sounds like a duck. Few can watch and/or listen him in human form which is why he fares best as a cartoon.
Richard Karn was about as lively as any other inanimate object on the set, but his voice doesn’t grate your soul so… step up. Like a bland bowl of fiber cereal. He got the job done.
John O’Hurley had that grey quaf going on and the “I may touch your wife’s breasts during Fast Money” thing.
FINALLY, the genius behind this show got it right and brought on Steve Harvey, Mr. Hightower. Whose constant snark towards his contestants behind his impressive mustache is only heightened by the announcer stylings of previous Backstreet Boy, Joey Fatone. 2010 wasn;t good for Haiti but it was epic for “Family Feud.”
My curiosity with the show runs deep. Who are the 100 people they question? When is an appropriate answer to “A kind of bear” “Papa bear”? Well 4 out of 100 people somewhere have decidedly said so. Americans are stupid. What would change if the producers only asked Mensa members survey questions? What if they only asked 6 year olds? These contestants are at the mercy of the intelligence of the population rather than correct answers.
I get so angry when one family is able to answer an entire series of questions but strikes out on the very last answer and the other family wins it all with one guess. Those fools didn’t do all the work! I would be pissed as shit if I were family one. “Did you know that agriculture was a job people have in California more than any other State? No Jones family, you didn’t but because my stupid cousin guessed waitress you got to steal our whole board. Fuck you.”
Family Feud unwritten rules:
1. It is almost always a black family vs. a white family. I have not figured out why, but I have taken note and passed along the information.
2. Contestants MUST say, “Good answer” when their team member says something stupid or else all morale is lost.
3. Answers have to be read in unison by contestants and audience alike.
4. The car offered as a “ free prize” will look like your Gym coach’s Toyota Corolla and the winner will have to pay taxes on it, pay to register it in their state and figure out how to get it home.
5. The show has been cancelled a billion times. But it’s like Herpes and keeps coming back just when you forgot about it. Herpes or the Kardashians.
6. The grand prize on Family Feud is 20,000$. That’s a lot of money. But not for a TV game show in 2012. In 1955 there was a show called the “64,000 Challenge”.
If you have never seen an episode, do not fret. This show is on almost every hour on either CBS or GSN. Nothing airs more. Oddly, I watch the show religiously and have yet to see a repeat. Maybe one day I will be lucky enough to be on the set myself where I will promptly kiss Steve Harvey square on his chocolate face. #Thingsonabucketlist