Monday, June 29, 2009

Web Site Story

A musical for the Twitter-Facebook generation from College Humor.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Tossing Petals

As some of my dear readers might know, I hosted a prom last year to make up for the one that never happened in high school. With that developmental milestone finally conquered, I figured I could move on and live a happy, healthy life, free from neuroses. But after I took down the streamers and removed my hideously pink dress, I realized was not healed. There was still something missing, something that I was supposed to do as a child or teen but never got around to. And then at my most recent Shabbat dinner, someone mentioned her experiences in flower girl-dom. That's when I knew what was still wrong with me- I've never been a flower girl.

At the age of four, I was supposed to be the flower girl at my first cousin's wedding. But that week, according to my mother, I had misbehaved a lot. She decided that she actually wanted to enjoy her nephew's wedding instead of minding a bratty child for hours. She hired a babysitter and went to the wedding without me. My basket of rose petals withered and died, never to be tossed in the bride's path.

Now some of you might be thinking- perhaps your present anxious situation is the result of being raised by the kind of mother who would leave you at home instead of taking you to a family wedding where you were supposed to be the almost center of attention. (She was also the kind of mother, who when asked for a puppy, looked at me and said, "But I've raised two children," as though that dog rearing and child rearing were somehow equivalent.) To them I say, I already have a shrink and am well versed in Freud. My problems have nothing to do with my zany yet lovable mother and everything to do with not having been a flower girl. All I need to do is reenact this milestone and perhaps then I will be ready to settle and have a wedding of my own.

So now I ask any soon to be brides- how would you like a 26 year old flower girl at your wedding? I am willing to walk down the aisle on my knees in order to be appear shorter? I am also willing to break dance at the reception if that sweetens the offer?

Any takers?

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

It's the Ultimate Loop "Hole"

In an earlier post, I discussed the legend of the sex through a hole in a sheet but I obviously neglected to note an important use for it. Thankfully, the good folks at the Upright Citizens' Brigade made a video explaining how to properly use a hole in a sheet.

Upright Citizens Brigade
Hole in the Sheet
Joke of the DayStand-Up ComedyFree Online Games

But for those of you afraid of dirtying your linen or walking around dressed as a Halloween ghost, I propose a different solution: the shinnui, which comes from the Hebrew l'shanot. This means "to change." I learned the term in a discussion of Sabbath laws and restrictions where it refers to "awkward changes." Practically, this means you can do certain prohibited things on the Sabbath if you do it differently from the norm- such using your left hand instead of your right, or twisting your arm and performing the deed from an unusual angle. Let's say you wanted to move a blow dryer that is in the way. Now technically you are not supposed to touch things you're not allowed to use (such as electronic devices) but if you moved the blow dryer with your left hand it would be okay since the left for most people would be the non-dominant hand and using would imply a change from normal use, or a shinnui. The rabbis believed that if you did it awkwardly you wouldn't for a second forget that it was the Sabbath and accidentally plug it in and do your hair. Like my politics, I'm a lefty so I would have to go right.

Now, rabbinically speaking, use of shinnui is limited but when I started to dabble in electricity on the Sabbath, I decided to apply the principle to my transgression in order to minimize culpability. I used to go around flipping light switches with my elbow. My right elbow that is. Dvora: 1. God: 0

I had been inspired by one of my cousins who joked that you, "could eat pork as long as you did it with a shinnui." Or through a hole in a sheet.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Is health insurance the new Mustang?

I was at a typically uninteresting Upper West Side rooftop barbecue when a man at least fifteen years my senior approached me and introduced himself. "I'm Sam," he said. (All names have been changed to protect the awkward.) Sam, I learned, was a physician's assistant at a Manhattan hospital. "What do you do?" he asked.

Lately, instead of replying, "Well, I'm marginally employed," I've decided to legitimize my career and therefore answered, "I'm a writer."

A few more minutes of awkward conversation passed and Sam asked me, "Do you have medical insurance?"

"Yes," I said. I felt triumphant because up until a couple of months ago, I would've had to answer that question differently.

"But you have to buy your own, right?" he questioned me, doubtlessly surmising that this marginally employed freelance writer didn't receive coverage from a job.

"Yeah," I answered, "and it's pretty crappy. But at least I have something."

"You know, one of the upsides of working for a hospital is that you get really great medical insurance," he said with a degree of pride.

"While that's true I don't really think I have a skill set that a hospital would be interested in so I don't think I'll ever enjoy their coverage."

"Well you don't have to work for the hospital. You can marry someone who does." While he didn't wink, his comment was pointed enough for me to get the hint. I excused myself to go get more dessert.

As I gorged on cake and strawberries I wondered whether I had experienced a new phenomenon. Aren't guys supposed to show you their car to impress you? Or in a city like New York where few own or drive, weren't they supposed to flaunt their six figure incomes or apartments overlooking the park? But I guess that in today's grim economic times of mass layoffs and rising health care costs, good medical insurance might be the newest way for guys to impress girls. As in:

Hey baby, wanna see my Aetna insurance card? It's PPO, not HMO. You can see all the specialists you want.