Who needs a blackberry

So yes blackberries are great and convenient and it did take me a while to adjust to life without one until....I realized that you can take your laptop anywhere! On the bus, in the grocery store, at the park, on dates! Now I'll take my laptop just about anywhere and treat it just like a blackberry. I'll be out to dinner with a friend and we'll be trying to figure out where to go for drinks after and I'll pull my laptop out of my bag and within minutes hellooo Citysearch. I'm thinking I need some sort of strap to go around my neck that I can hang my computer from, theres a business idea for you. I really think with so many people losing their jobs and their precious blackberries that this is going to catch on and become all the rage. I mean if Nicole Richie is already doing it....

Lunch Deals

It’s impressive when you walk around mid-town Manhattan on weekdays how many awesome lunch deals you find. Like sit down for a three-course meal for under 10 bucks. Ironic, seeing as how most people worried about lunch money probably can’t stroll out for a two-hour meal. They’re apparently meant for very frugal big dawgs. But now, I too can take advantage of these, even if it means eating alone. I came across an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet today for $7.95. I sat down determined to get my money’s worth and didn’t leave until an hour and a half later. I’d talk on the phone in between servings to give my stomach a quick moment to catch its breath.  I may have stomach pains for a few more hours but goddamn it, it was worth it. Now I know the joys of being a mid-town big dawg. My next task: figure out what ever happened to The Sizzler.

My next job

While exploring possibilities for my next career I think I've landed on a great one -- dating expert/consultant/matchmaker. I realized this on Friday night when (like many Friday nights) my phone was flooded with picture texts of every outfit my friends own asking me which one to wear on their date (which is strange considering many people have questioned my understanding of 'short' and 'tight'). They're constantly asking me to choose an outfit for them, restaurant or conversation topic. I realize that some may say that I'm not qualified for the job since my dating track record isn't stellar but hey, the Millionaire Matchmaker isn't married and if that isn't a problem for people this shouldn't be either. Plus, according to the article I just read about matchmaking blowing up, there couldn't be a better time. It would be the easiest job in the world for me since unlike a lot of women I actually have common sense. Some examples of the wisdom I dispense that keeps girls flocking to me for advice -- No, do not meet him on a street corner for your first date, meet him at the restaurant; If you wore it to work (and you're a teacher or a stripper) you should not be wearing it on a date; If he hasn't called you in 6 days, he is not in the hospital, do NOT call him. Thats just some free advice, you have to pay if you want more...

Blowin' Up

A fan of the blog and fellow blogger, the very cool Morgan Haines interviewed Aldous and I about our lives as unemployed assholes and posted it on her blog (which is way nicer and more professional looking than ours). Thanks Morgan, our egos have officially exploded, next stop Larry King. Check it out:

http://mhgdblog.wordpress.com/2009/04/14/unemployed-and-awesome/

Retards in meetings

One of the very (very) few things I miss about work is sitting in meetings when someone says something truly retarded. That kind of statement where everyone is quiet for a few seconds (I’m giggling like a school girl into my notebook) until someone senior to the retard steps in. That senior person will either ignore the comment or politely try and get it to make sense. The same way teachers had to make sense of dumbass answers in elementary school. I used to enjoy those situations back then too. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my share of bombs in meetings.  Big ones, where all you hear are crickets and my boss grinding his teeth. I found my bombs just as entertaining as those of others. That must have been a sign of not caring or something.

Do you do Powerpoint?

While visiting my parents for the weekend I ran into a lot of neighbors and family friends who I haven't seen in a while. One minute into conversation they all asked how work was or if I had to go back to work on Monday. Welllll...apparently my parents haven't notified the locals that the only job I'm doing is trying to name every cast member of the 21 seasons of Real World. After notifying everyone that I am "permanently on vacation" and letting them know that I've been that way for 8 weeks, many of them asked bizarre questions that I know are a direct result of the Today show pieces they have seen about how to find a job in a recession. Keeping in mind that we are talking about the 50+ generation, a common question (my parents asked this as well) was "Can you use the Internet to find a job?", I told them "no, the Internet was just a fad, newspapers are all the rage now and I can't afford to buy one". But my favorite was definitely, "Do you know how to use powerpoint?", this question really intrigued me so I enthusiastically would answer "Yes!" hoping they knew of some awesome job where I get paid handsomely to add clip art to a slide and make sure all the bullets line up. But sadly that response was followed by "oh oh thats good, thats very important." I'm fairly confident that none of those people have a clue what powerpoint is because if they did they would know that its about as archaic and useless as Lotus Notes. But on that note, if anyone knows of a job where "powerpoint" is the only requirement please let me know, I'm excellent at making intersecting circles and shading. 

Shirley Temples

So I'm out to dinner with my parents this weekend and we're sitting next to a table with 3 kids,all drinking Shirley Temples. This prompts my parents to start talking about how when I was a kid I was "obsessed" with Shirley Temples. I figured that now, at almost 30 years old, was the time I should tell them that the reason I pounded Shirley Temples from age 5 to 10 was because I was fully convinced there was booze in them. They came in a glass with a stir and cheeries so clearly that meant there was some serious alcohol in them. After I got "bombed" off my 5 ST's I did what I had learned was protocol when you're raging drunk -- tear up the dance floor. After wearing myself out my parents would try and tell me its time to leave at which point I would give them "the hand" and tell them I was "going out". I would storm out of the bar and promptly fall fast asleep in the parking lot. Best part was that instead of calling it a night my parents would eventually come get me and put me under their table at the bar and proceed to enjoy drinks a little stronger than Shirley Temples. And I wonder where I got it..