1. Join a gym. Yeah yeah, so the monthly fee might be brutal — but those endorphins’ll alleviate the blow of being laid off and the stigma of being “unemployed.” And also, you’ll be able to stop those obnoxious biweekly drug store runs; just stuff some plastic bottles in your gym bag and save some of the gym’s shampoo, soap, etc. for later. If times are really tough, smuggle some TP too. The added bonus? The health club is a great place to meet that sweaty iBanking hottie who can fund your lavish [unemployed] lifestyle.

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The urgency of the moment once more prohibits me from waiting for bjfriend.

I heard some monumental news today.

Again, for those of you who follow me in real life (my, uh, friends), you’re aware of my obsession with Doctor Sanjay Gupta - the ubiquitous, brainy neurosurgeon that CNN calls upon for input regarding every medical news story. Ways to fight the common cold? He’s there. Brain surgery techniques? He’s informed. Obesity in America? He’s ready with input. The nutritional value of yams? PAGING DOCTOR GUPTA!

I bet you’re thinking, “That’s a little strange. If I were a doctor, there’s no way I could know this much about everything. Even if I were a summa cum laude med school braniac, I wouldn’t be able to speak eloquently about every medical topic that crosses the CNN news desk!” Well, friend, you’re no Dr. Sanjay Gupta.

So imagine my surprise and unequovical GLEE when my coworkers informed me that S.J. is going to be the next Surgeon General under the Obama Administration.

EEEEEE!!!!! Um … PAGING SURGEON GENERAL GUPTA!

Ordinarily I wouldn’t write three posts in a row. But my eighth (cyber-)sense tells me that our readers are getting restless for a post, and since bjfriend is in Nippon right now visiting a friend … which cut down his Christmas time with me … *sniff *sniff … No, those aren’t tears. They’re just a manly consequence of the tablespoon of wasabi I ate in his honor. HUZZAH.

ANY-way. Since the economy is getting the best of me and you and everyone we know, I’m scouring the job boards. But everything looks dull. Why is no one seeking a part-time, freelance, location-based SUPERHERO?

Um, LOOK what I stumbled upon on MY MOST FAVORITEST SITE EVER:

It makes me want to:
a) Throw a celebration for my famous bloggernaut companion.
b) Thank the baby Jesus that I know/share a blog with a celebtastic rising star.
c) Grow a moustache.

Answer? All of the above.

Now I need not waste any more time before sending my list to the N. Pole.

A Keyboard for Blondes: Click photo to enlarge.

Why the blogging hiatus? I had to wait for bjfriend to catch up with # of posts. It’s sooo not about me being holiday season lazy …

GASP! The holiday season!

Holiday Friends, 2007

Friends, if you don’t know me IRL (i.e. WC readers): I fucking love the holidays.

Without further ado: a directive to our loyal BCC readers: slurp some eggnog and celebrate last night, the first snowfall of the season on the East Coast (reason #9287 why EC > WC). Cozy up and have a listening orgy with my self-indulgent Sunday morning project: the ULTIMATE holiday playlist.

Adam Sandler - The Hanukkah Song
Alvin & The Chipmunks - Christmas Don’t Be Late
Ben Folds - Lonely Christmas Eve
Blink 182 - I Won’t Be Home For Christmas
Bobby Helms - Jingle Bell Rock
Brenda Lee - Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree
Bright Eyes - Blue Christmas
Celine Dion - O Holy Night
Dean Martin - Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!
Disney - O Christmas Tree
Drifters - White Christmas
Dr. Elmo - Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer
Ella Fitzgerald - Sleigh Ride
Ella Fitzgerald + Louis Jordan - Baby It’s Cold Outside
Frank Sinatra - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Jackson Five - Frosty the Snowman
Jason Mraz - Winter Wonderland
Jimmy Eat World - Last Christmas
John Lennon - Happy Christmas (War is Over)
Jose Feliciano - Feliz Navidad
Mairi Campbell and Dave Francis - Auld Lang Syne
Mariah Carey - All I Want For Christmas
Nat King Cole - The Christmas Song
Ray Charles - Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town
Sarah McLaughlin - O Little Town of Bethlehem
Trans-Siberian Orchestra - Carol of the Bells
U2 - Baby Please Come Home

Thanks to festivities related to a friend-of-a-friend’s nuptials, I’m playing hookie this morning. And as I sit in this crowded Upper East Side coffeeshop, sipping my coffee, I marvel at the number of people in here. And try to resist the insurmountable urge to inquire, “Why the fuck aren’t you at work?”

If I weren’t poor and didn’t occasionally babysit young Disney Channel enthusiasts, I probably wouldn’t have any clue who the Jonas Brothers are - at least, not until Saturday morning, when I encountered a hoard of seemingly possessed female tweens gathered outside the Trump Tower on the Upper West Side. And out they came - in all their pretween glory.

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At my unnamed-place-of-employment, my coworkers and I toiled the night away completing an interim phase redesign. To congratulate us for our successful launch of the site, the company president sent us a one-line congratulatory email: “Way to get it up last night.”

…

…

That’s what she said.

Living in an iconic city, I acknowledge the importance of deviating from the tedious work-to-Associated-Supermarket-to-gym-to-home circuit, and occasionally embrace the New York cliche. So I spent today wandering Central Park, browsing the Guggenheim, drinking bloody Marys at the Boathouse — a lovely UES immersion. But I did have one alarming observation.

I’d not be the first Gen Y blogger to caustically complain about the excessive number of strollers invading the UES. (When I say NYC is the city of the young, I don’t mean the that-young.) But it’s reached a new level of absurdity: The spread of the Stokke Xplory. And this complaint isn’t just based on casual observation; I gathered scientific evidence: Between 11 a.m. and 5 p.m., I observed 21 of these. The punchline? These babies retail at $800. EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS for a contraption that your rugrat will eventually puke in.