Game 6: Row V

For those that don't know....the letter Z is the last letter in the alphabet, but in the upper deck at Shea Stadium the letter V is the last row. That's right...I have never been happier than to be at game 6 of the NLCS with a die hard Met fan and an arrogant Yankee fan in row V. Below is a picture from our seats!



Even though they aren't the seats that JDF gets for us, Nicky's seats were just as fun. We could see the entire field and I high-fived all these new people that became my game friends! Bring on game 7!

A Spooky Friday the 13th Birthday Happy Hour

Our staff at school is preetty impressive, but most of all they really know how to celebrate a birthday. Thanks to them, I had a wonderful happy hour birthday on Friday the 13th!

We are like family...some a little more than family.

The guy on the left is on roids....he is my workout partner

Perfect display of a double over the shoulder boulder holder with THE GUYS

I think it was only 6pm here

"What did I say to offend you?"

Italian Weddings (Part 2 of 2)

Like I said, Bananas and I attended our friend's wedding recently. I knew it would be a great wedding for a few reasons: 1. Bananas and I decided not to bring dates in order to maximize the fun. 2. Angela (pronounced On-gela by her mother) is about as Italian as they get, this guaranteed everything from the previous post on weddings and more. 3. This was Bananas first Italian wedding.


When we arrived to Glen Island Harbor Club, the car was valeted and we were ready for some action. At first we were greeted by Angela's mother who only made small talk and demanded that we eat. Bananas took my advice and starved herself all day, so she was ready for cocktail hour. Before getting our food and drinks, we got our table cards. Believe it or not Bananas had the only last name that didn't end in a vowel. We signed the guest book right below "Rocco." We found the only other people we would know at this wedding, Angela's brother and fiance, and got something to eat. As any novice attendee during cocktail hour, Bananas went bananas during cocktail hour. I can't say I didn't warn her.

We were very curious as to who would be at Table #14 with us. It was looking like it would be a crap shoot and when we finally arrived at our table in the main dining room we were greeted by Angela's college friends. For those that do not know about NYU, it has a high Asian population. So here I am sitting at my table thinking the following: I just signed my name in the guest book below "Rocco", ate some prosciutto and a rice ball at cocktail hour, and now I am sitting at the Asian table. Please be advised that I have nothing against Asians, but how did I end up at a table that was 50% Asian, 20% Canadian, 20% confused (Bananas falls under this), and 10% Italian (me only) at an Italian wedding?? Maybe Angela felt I could take all these people under my wing for their first Italian wedding experience...it was evident the entire table was losing their wedding virginity together.

white chocolate fondue

Bananas and I had no other choice but to dance the night away. We danced with Ang's brothers, one of which I taught in Somers for a brief period. We decided that we had one mission at this wedding (no, not to score with THE GUYS taking shots of SoCo), but to be all over the professional wedding video. We were fools on that dance floor, doing the lawnmower, the shopping cart, the fishing pole, and even the one where you put your hands on your knees and move your knees back and forth. All this dancing allowed us to stuff our faces a little more.

One rather nice part of the wedding was the centerpiece that Bananas had her heart set on. There were perhaps 60 red roses sitting high up on each table. It was at the point where she probably would have fought for it, but I insisted that the florists would take the centerpieces back. At the point where we were saying good-bye, Bananas notices an older couple take their centerpiece. She ran to take ours at table #14 (since all the Asians were gone) and realized the entire arrangement was about 30lbs. After giving me a look that signaled we can take this entire thing out together, I convinced her to take individual roses and make her own bouquet.

Ribods, Angela and Bananas

So after Venetian hour, we said our good-byes and worked our way to the door (a little slow in walking because of all the food we had). It was at the door where a man offered us some lemon ices to cleanse our palate. Bananas was a little repulsed by any more food, but she truly enjoyed herself at such an event. Not only did we walk out stuffed holding a bouquet of flowers, but we left with the feeling that there are still great guys to meet... at even the crappiest of bars in NYC.

Italian Wedding's (Part 1 of 2)

Bananas and I went to a wedding last weekend and before I can discuss that wedding, we must discuss the Italian wedding. Here are a few things we should all know.

* Gaudy is great: I never support gaudy, but when it comes to one of these wedding, gaudy is encouraged. For example, my brother had the ice sculpture martini glass that dispensed apple martinis all night long. As ridiculous as this was, it was a self service martini dispenser. Where do you see those?

* Family: Italian families are big....huge. My dad is the youngest of eight kids and as a result I am the youngest of 22 cousins (most of those cousins are married with kids). Granted, names like Vinny, Anthony, and Maria begin to repeat but there is tons of family all over the place. My dad's side of the family alone takes up at least 6-8 tables at one of these events. Seating is crucial because the older crowd must be far away from the band, but directly off the dance floor for a good view as to what's wrong with today's youth. The cousins are easy....as long as the music is good and the drinks are flowing, life is nice.

My cousin Anna on her wedding day

* Food: I feel for people when they go to their first Italian wedding. These people should wear stickers or have a mentor during the event. First things first...never eat before one of these. A wedding is like surgery, no food or drink at least 12 hour prior to the event. My second piece of advice, pace yourself. I promise you won't go home hungry and if you are on the dance floor when your pasta plate gets taken away...don't worry, more food is coming shortly. This section has to be broken up into sections:

-cocktail hour: most first timers think this is all the food that will be offered during the entire night. You can pick out a first timer by the amount of times they get food at the various stations that can include (but not limited to): veggies, cheeses, seafood, carving station, pasta station, hot antipasto, cold antipasto, breads, and people walking around with trays of food.

This is what not to do during cocktail hour, even if you are the one getting married

- first course: typically a quarter cantaloupe with a piece of prosciutto on top. This starts the night and cleanses the palette of cocktail hour. First timers would be thinking, "what the hell is this...you call this a salad?"
- salad: usually a tossed garden salad. First timer is now thinking, "wow, two salads!"
- pasta dish: Typical penne dish with a nice plain sauce. Not the biggest portion, but it will satisfy your carb craving. After this course the newbie is thinking, "I'm starting to get full, damn."
- main course: This is usually a choice of beef, chicken or seafood. Vegetarians do not exist in my culture. This is a huge plate of the choice meat with veggies and some sort of potato (never a baked potato). The newbie is thinking, "I wish I didn't eat all of that during cocktail hour because this looks good." This plate is rarely cleaned off, even the experienced attendee knows not to finish it off.

The cake table at Venetian Hour

- Venetian Hour: This is almost like cocktail hour with desserts. This is where drinking for quantity stops and quality begins. Now there are stations of espresso/cappuccino, chocolate fondue, cakes, pastries, fried doughs, cookies, after dinner liquors, candy, ice cream, and just pure gluttony. This not a time to think about the starving children in Africa, nor is it a time to talk about your diet. No one wants to hear about it, suck it up, tomorrow is another day.

On Monday, the newbie who just finished digesting their food that morning will brag about the wedding to their friends at work who have never been to such an event. "You gotta go to one of these weddings......" as if one can buy tickets. This guy will usually feel he has gone through some sort of initiation process and will remember it for the rest of his life.

Summer is Over.....Officially

People often believe summer ends at different times. Some believes it ends on the first day of fall. Many believe it ends labor day weekend. Typically in NYC it is easy to see that after labor day everyone breaks out their black and grey clothing instead of their brighter colors. Talking to a colleague today...she said summer ends when she can't wear flip flops anymore. If I went by that, summer would be half the year.

I often like to categorize summer ending with the last beach outing. I thought my summer had come to an end when I had come back from Europe, started school, and noticed I was wearing my grey pants again (with flip flops). On the other hand, this past weekend I got in some unexpected beach time. It has become a bit tradition for Iz and I to head to Long Beach the week after school opens. I enjoy going this time of year because there is more of an appreciation for the beach since it most likely will be my last time in my two piece before I break out the cords and wool knits. We had a great time...hung out with other teachers outside the classroom, drank some interesting homemade bug juice, and watched some volleyball.

There will always be next summer, but it's sad to say goodbye to what was a great summer. And this morning was the clincher. I woke up, looked in the mirror at my bronzed face, and heard it was going to be a high of 67 degrees on the radio. I was okay with it though.....on a day of remembrance it seemed fitting that the weather was exactly the same as it was 5 years ago.

Back to the Mailbag: More Letters

Here are some blurbs from the letters I have been reading. Enjoy:

"I don't have any expectation of you Ms. Ribods. You are perfect the way you are." (This kid does not have to do any work....ever)

"This summer I went to East Hampton and rode horses. Then I went to Sweden and came home to ride more horses. I have 5 cats, 1 teddy bear, and a hampster named Peter." (I thought this was cute for some reason)

"I tried a new food this summer in Puerto Rico. It was so good, it starts with a P, but I dont know how to spell it. Basically its a beef, chicken or some other kinda meat...but its great." (...or it might be the neighbor's cat)

"I love to play poker with my family and friends." (love it...good italian boy from Tribeca)

"I would like to let you know that I do Tae kwon do and hold a orange belt, but I will be a purple belt soon." (I feel a bit threatened by this statement)

"I love to take care of children and believe it or not i love to take showers." (glad to see one student is clean)

Letters to Ribods

It is pretty common to have my students write me letters at the beginning of the year telling me about their summer, what they hope to accomplish this year, what their expections of me are and so on in order to get to know them better. One thing I ask them is to tell me something interesting that I wouldn't ordinarily know about them. I have only read one set of class letters, but here are some responses (please be aware spelling and grammar have not been changed from the original letter):

"I think you should know that I'm a model, but not right now cuz I took a break but when I get older I going to be a model so tell Tyra to watch out LOL!!" (You go girl!)

"I expect to get A's and B's even if it kills me.....My dog rex he kows how to open the back door to get out sid so we dont need to" (I might lose a student this year and not sure how the second part relates to anything)

"Well if you don't already know I love to cook and experimment with new recipes. I learn alot from the Food Network"

"I like animals and me and my brother are going to build a tank and get a alagator." (The next croc hunter is in my class apparently)

"My expectations of you is not to be strict since it is our last year, you could cut us a little slack." (Yeah right)

"One thing I learned this summer was how to play Madden '07 on my x-box. That game is exciting and it puts you mentally there." (Mentally there? What's it going to take to get mentally tuned into my class?)

"This summer I went to South Africa and tried building jumping for the first time. It was so much fun and I was happy I didn't die. I like to take risks such as jumping from building to building or other things with in reason." (Gotta love a kid's imagination)

.....And this is only one classs. Whoa!

So much to talk about

I have noticed that a few loyal readers have been checking in to see if I posted anything new. Unfortunately over the past week life has been hectic. Upon my return from Europe I had to recover from jet lag, unpack my bags, then pack my room up to move to the big apple just to be followed by unpacking it in the apartment, and getting my classroom together for the school year. And at some point Pluto lost it's planet status.

You will be delighted to hear that I have a few things I have been debating to post on here: Australian metrosexuals, presence of men in female bathrooms in Europe, the possibility of re-joining MySpace, and a recent discussion of my green pea crystals at happy hour.

This weekend is going to be a wash out thanks to Ernesto, so I will have plenty of time on my hands.

-Er

(Un)Packing

I know I had promised a week full of Europe stories since my last post, but it would be impossible to get it done. I recently got done unpacking from the big European holiday and started packing for my big move into the city. The move is happening on Tuesday and I really have no idea what I am bringing. On top of this, I start work Thursday :( Summer is officially over for me and I didn't even get to hit a NY beach.

I took some interest in this alley in Barcelona during the Gothic Walking Tour

I am hit with another dilemma. When I originally started writing this, it would be a summer thing. Now that summer has ended I am torn whether to continue this or stop until next year. If I keep it going, postings would happen a few days a week. Also, I can write up some stories from Europe. Let me know your thoughts.

Jet lagged, but home safely

In the past two weeks I managed to travel thousands of miles by air, bus, train and boat. I stepped foot in four countries, ate local cuisines, drank about a barrels worth of wine since it was the cheapest liquid to drink, and got to know people from all over the world (including New Jersey, New Zealand, Australia, and Canada). Since there is so much to tell, I thought I would write my next few posts on things that happened or trends I noticed across the pond. In the mean time, I have some pics to share and summarize the trip:

I had a chance to see some amazing works of art on the beach (Nice, France)

I did what I can to make sure things didn't come tumbling down on us (Pisa, Italy)

Hung out in the Pope's courtyard with Ash and Mitch (Vatican City):

Experienced the Fiesta de Paloma (Madrid, Spain)

Checked out the walled city of Carcassonne (France):

Met a guy named David, but he was a little too tall for me (Florence, Italy):

Checked out the unknown beach hangouts of the Mediterranean (Alan & I in Cinque Terra, Italy):

The first night set the pace for the rest of the trip (Madrid, Spain):

Spent many nights in the piazzas and plazas enjoying the culture (Rome, Italy)

I even managed to be reminded of my family throughout the trip (San Gimignano, Italy)

This is just a taste of the past two weeks. It was an amazing trip, but on top of that I met some great people that I hope to see again and maybe meet up somewhere else in the world. It is a little odd not to wake up in a hotel and have a croissant for breakfast this morning, but after two weeks I think it was time to get home. More stories and pictures to follow though....enjoy.

Time for a Holiday

I am off to Europe tomorrow for two weeks. I am not sure how often I will hit a cyber cafe to email and check in with home, friends, etc....perhaps in France....needless to say, when I get back I will have stories and pictures. In the meantime, feel free to leave comments, they are always welcomed. Hopefully the Mets will still be in first place. And once I get back, I will embark on my final, huge, summer experience.....moving to the city:)

ciao
ribods

(picture above: trevi fountain in rome)

Reading Material for Europe

Ok, so I am heading out on Thursday afternoon for my trans-atlantic flight to Madrid. Total round trip flight time will be about 14 hours, plus airport waiting time, and then plenty of bus time to take in some knowledge. Everyone has told me to bring a good book, but I tend to read a few books at a time. I decided to pick 2 books I already read in short periods of time and 2 books that will be calming. All 4 books are quick reads, fairly short and paperbacks.

1: Angels & Demons by Dan Brown: I already read this book a few years ago when I told a student I was going to read the DaVinci Code. He advised that I read this one first and I am glad I did. Angels & Demons came out before DaVinci Code and in my opinion, was a better story. The DC's story centers around the Louvre in Paris, whereas A&D takes place in and around the Vatican and focuses on the Catholic church. I figure this is rather fitting because I will be at the Vatican my last full day in Europe. Despite this being a long book (480 pages), it is a quick read.

2. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho: Alchemy is an ancient form of science that originated in Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt and spread from there. It involves chemistry, metallurgy, physics, medicine, astrology, spiritualism, and art. Anyway, the book is about a boy who leaves Spain to follow his dream of finding a treasure in the Egyptian pyramids. Along his travels he meets many people (good and bad) as well as an alchemist who tells him, "that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity." Anyone who reads this fable will feel a connection instantly and relate to Santiago, the boy in search of his dream. This 176 book was recommended by a co-worker last year when it seemed to relate to me most. Highly recommended.

3 & 4: The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet by Benjamin Hoff: I recently got interested in the ancient Chinese belief system of Taoism and as a result started reading the Tao of Pooh. Basically Hoff uses Pooh and his friends to discuss and point out different aspects of Taoism. This is more of ancient Chinese belief system rather than a religion, but is focuses on simplicity, appreciating, learning from and working with what happens in everyday life. According to a Taoist, this harmonious way of living leads to happiness (very Winnie the Pooh like!)

I should finish all these books in the next 2 weeks between all the airplaning, touring, talking, photos, and taking in local culture.

Collections

We all have things we tend to collect. My mother collects magnets from all the places we have been. I have a friend who collects wine corks and writes the date the bottle was opened and finshed...often the same date. I like to collect match books. I always felt like every book of matches tells a story. I also have another random collecting interest: blankets from airplanes.

It all happened so innocently. I was flying home from Charlotte to White Plains with a two hour layover in Pittsburgh for Easter weekend. I am usually cold because my body temperature is slightly lower than the average person due a malfunction in my blood (nothing serious, promise). A change to a cooler climate can be bothersome. Since I was flying USAir on both legs of the trip, I thought I would take a blanket into the Pittsburgh Airport and leave it on the plane when I arrived in NY. After a travel experience that deserves it's own blog and will probably top any of your flying stories, I landed in Newark Airport the next day on a Delta flight. Throughout this all I had very few possessions: the 1st season of the Sopranos on DVD in which we watched on a German guy's laptop, my dead cell phone, a toothbrush, my wallet, a psychobiology textbook, and my blanket. I slept on the floor of the airport with that blanket; it was warm, fuzzy, and dark blue. And yes, I still have it. This experience sparked an interest to have more airplane blankets, because like the matchbooks, there are memories attached to them.

My most recent blanket came from an American Airlines flight. I was walking on the plane in Miami and I knew I would be cold. No one was sitting in first class, so I just snatched a blanket. To my surprise the blanket was a lot plusher, bigger, and more colorful than the coach blankets. I decided to just put it in my bag fearing the flight attendant would take it from me. Jealously was written all over my friends' faces when they saw this find.

My favorite blanket I acquired on a Singapore Airlines flight to JFK from Frankfurt. Who flies Singapore Air to and from Germany you might ask? Me...you should try it. Aside from the great food, the slippers, playing Nintendo on the plane, the eye shades, hot towels, and the Singapore slings...there were blankets. This blanket it huge and soft. The only downside to this blanket is the color....purple and turquoise plaid, but it does match the entire interior of the plane. Next I have to see how to score one of the kimonos that the flight attendants wear.

The best winter blanket comes from an Alitalia flight from Sicily to Rome. I was so cracked out of my mind the morning we boarded this flight in Catania. My parents felt the need to have a sunrise breakfast on the lava rock beach. This was a great idea, except the closer you get the equator earlier the sun comes up. For those who don't know, Sicily is practically in Africa. It is not an accident we are dark skinned. So there I am at 4:45am eating my pastry with Nutella, drinking expresso, and wishing I were dead. We proceed to the airport to find out the plane just didn't show up. No one, except my parents, were the least bit alarmed by this. Then I heard my father raising his voice in Italian. I just kind of pretended I didn't know who that crazy man was with the hiked up tube socks and fell asleep on a bench. My mother woke me up and before I knew it, we were boarding a plane for Rome. I immediately passed out for the entire 2 hour trip to Rome. I commented to my dad when we landed that the seats were comfortable and he said, "well, I told those (insert derogatory Italian word) in Catania that I demand to be on the next plane to Rome going first class." Look at that, the crazy man in Catania was fighting for his family to get first class and no one told me! I never flew first class before this and I really couldn't tell you what first class treatment feels like. I have no recollection of the experience, but I did keep the blanket! It is thick, gray and flannel! Perfect.

I can only imagine the blanket stories will get better with time. Above is the blanket from Singapore Airlines.

Yes...we are related

Sitting outside on the patio with my nephew Joseph (7 months old) and niece Kaitlyn (4 years old). Megan (4 months old) was taking a nap.

The (Late) Morning After the Storm

So this entire liver flush is done, I am cleaned out as of this morning. I thought I would give you the play by play of the last 24 or so hours:

Yesterday morning: I hit the gym early and drank a gallon of apple juice. This resulted in my early stages of dehydration since I sweated out any water in me and then I replaced it with juice. The bloated feeling was the least of the problems I would encounter later.

12:30pm Yesterday: I had my last rights to a meal. I felt like I was a death row inmate and had to choose a meal that I could savor and enjoy. I went with some left over pork roast from Sunday and some pasta, with a side of 4-bean salad. I am not sure this meal would be recommended since it was big, but I didn't care.

3:30pm yesterday: I had to ingest my first cocktail of Epsom salt. The directions say that 2 tablespoons were to be dissolved in 1 ounce of hot water. After getting a visual of what an ounce looks like and what 2 tablespoons look like, I realized the laws of concentration would not allow the salt to dissolve no matter how hot the water was. I had an extremely large supersaturated solution. So I added more water and a few drops of lemon juice for taste. The solution had no smell, but the taste was something to bring on nightmares. Nothing is worse than expecting one taste (salt water) and getting something else (abrasive bathroom cleaner with paint thinner). I had to hold my nose to take this down and chug OJ to kill the taste in my mouth. My reaction to the drink was similar to Justin making me a vodka cocktail while claiming there is hardly any alcohol in the drink. My face cringes and I get the shakes for a brief moment. Well multiply this by a factor of 10!

5:30pm yesterday: It was time to ingest my second cocktail of Epsom salt. I took a nap after the first one partly out of disgust and feeling violated. This time I switched it up. I understand the reason for the hot water to be mixed with the salt...for chemical reactions occur at higher temperatures inside your body. On the other hand, there is a reason our bodies are 98.6 degrees F. Let my body work towards heating up the water. I also decided to mix the salt with apple juice to kill the horrible taste. Although it was foul tasting apple juice, it beat the hot water.

6:00 yesterday (dinner): My father spent the day in Brooklyn and stopped by my cousin's bakery for bread. He brought home 4 loaves of fresh bread. I was only able to smell the bread and had my three oranges for dinner and laid back down. Within an hour of dinner, the laxative power of the Epsom salt kicked in and my entire body had flushed out all waste products. I weighed myself before and after this moment and lost 5 pounds of water and waste weight. I had to drink water at this point because I was getting very dehydrated and weak.

10:00pm yesterday: So my body is cleaned out, time for oil and lemons. I squeezed out 1/2 cup of fresh lemon juice and added some sugar and water to make very sour lemonade. I also measured out the 1/2 olive oil (1 tablespoon = 14 g fat). They were not mixed because Justin and I had a thought they would curdle. So without much thought, I stuck a straw in the oil and sucked it down. The oil itself did not taste like much, but the consistency was enough to make me gag and gag and gag each time I swallowed. As soon as I was done with that, I chugged the lemon juice. This tasted AMAZING! About 30 minutes before this, I had taken a tylonal PM to make me sleep. I got into bed, laid on my right side with my right knee up to my chest and said a prayer. I even listened to my gallbladder with the stethoscope. It was loud!

7:00am today: I woke up with a headache, dehydrated, and on my way to feeling violated again because I had to take my last Epsom salt cocktail. I took it with apple juice and went back to bed for 3 hours.

10:00 today: The laxative power took over again and I made a run for the bathroom. Whatever water I had in me came out and then there were all these green pea size balls in the bowl. There were about 50 of them, most of them tiny. But I managed to take out the larger ones for inspection. They are soft, wrinkled, and bright green. I even took a photo of them for you after washing them off. You know you have been waiting for this! So I guess I am cleaned out. There weren't a ton of balls because I am fairly young to do this and pretty healthy. I imagine an older person or someone who eats a high fat diet would have more green balls coming out. I managed to eat breakfast, drink water, and I am starting to feel better.

Would I do it again? Maybe....if they somehow involve vodka, kool-aid and vitamin water into the entire regimen. Until then, I'll pass.

You might like this.......

So my friend Marc is leaving Corporate America to embark on his career in film at Columbia Film School. I am a huge fan of his writing and hate the corporate world and Metro North about as much as he does. Below is his own blog about his last week of work. I look forward to one day seeing one of his films and accepting an Academy Award, but for now I will continue to chuckle at his writing.
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Last Week of Work

Yes, the time has come. My final days in Corporate America (CA) have dwindled to merely a few, and with them, I am overwhelmed with memories. Or is it the Pakistani kid's body odor? Regardless, here are some of my favorite memories over the past four years in CA.

1. The Guy Who Won't Shut the Fuck Up: We all know these assholes. They feel like they need to talk, incessantly about nonsensical subjects such as the color schemes of the various ties they wear, the operating system upgrade they just had done on their computer, their latest rentals on Netflix, or how their kids are "awesome athletes."

Let's be real, OK? Your tie is ugly. Your computer needed a system upgrade because you downloaded too much porn. Your taste in movies sucks. And your 15 year-old son might be able to throw a 70 mph fastball, but he reads at a thrid grade level.

Why don't we talk about that?

2. The Boss Who Wields WAY Too Much Power: He can't work an Excel spreadsheet if his family's life depended on it, but he's making $500,000 per year, and laughing at you while he asks you to change the water in the water cooler. You do more work than he does, and usually, your contribution anihilates his output by a factor of ten.

3. The Bitter Single Women: Corporate America loves to take these women in. Give me your tired, your poor, your over-the-top MAN HATERS! Misery loves company, and Corporate America does in fact breed much misery among its participants. But really, check the man-hating at the door. Please. No guy wants to hear what an "asshole" the guy you met "at the bar" turned out to be because he "won't return your calls." Maybe, after meeting you, he lost faith in the entire female population and killed himself! That's right, he's probably dead. It's not that he didn't want to call you back. It's that he would rather have walked into the on-coming cross-town bus.

4. The Cleaning Crew: When you're at work so late that the cleaning crew comes around, and there's that one Latino girl who is border-line cute, and you say to yourself, "wow, you know what? Staring at this computer screen has made me so blind, I'd probably bang that."

The man-haters hate that guys think about this, but it's a simple fact. Work enough hours for enough days, and there is a reasonable, 99.9% chance you will think about having sex with a member of the cleaning crew.

5. The Fucking Fax Machine: Why do you need a PHd in Engineering from MIT to work this piece of shit? "Oh, you need this faxed? No problem. Let me just figure out what number this garbage document is supposed to be faxed to. Is it international? OK, which country? England? Great. What's the country code? Can I go on the Internet and look it up? No problem. Looks like the country code is 44. Great. What's the dial out number? Is it 9, or 8? What do I have to put before dialing the international number? Oh, 011? Awesome. So it's 9011? Oh, so I should try with 9, and if that doesn't work, use the 8? Got it. Which way does the paper go? Up? Down? Fowards? Backwards? OK, I'm dialing. I'm hitting 9044, FUCK. 44011, GOD DAMN IT! OK, 901144............BUSY SIGNAL. Jesus Christ. (15 minutes later) OK, it just went through. But now I have to stand here and wait for the confirmation, you say? Oh, sweet, here it comes! Wait, why is the page blank??? It's out of ink??? Now I can't tell if the fax went through! Who changes the ink? I change the ink? Where do I get the ink cartridge from? Oh, from Staples. Now we're talking. How do I order it? WHAT!?! I HAVE TO ORDER VIA FAX!?!"

6. The Elevators: There are two potential situations in the Corporate Elevator, both of which are right up there with the firey pits of Hell.

6a. The crowded elevator where no one talks, except for two people who don't care that everyone can hear their conversation. Worst of all, they'll say things like "Ugh, I can't believe Dan made me work overtime again last night!" or "I am SO SWAMPED." Hey, maybe "Dan" is creating more work for you so that you'll bang him, late night. Or maybe, Dan is just the kind of guy who likes seeing other people bask in their own misery. Either way, I like Dan. Dan's a good buddy of mine. We met one night while staring at the cleaning crew. So I'm going to tell him you said that, and get you fired.

6b. The crowded elevator where one guy decides that he cannot spare an extra 15 seconds and wait for another elevator. And it's always a guy. The doors are closing. Everyone's ready for the ascent back up to their cubicles, but here comes fat bastard Larry, closing in on the elevator faster than Seabiscut on War Admiral at motherfucking Pimlico. That look on his face is priceless. His eyes squint. Beads of sweat drip from his wrinkled brow. His flapping gut wiggles as his chubby legs tries to get him there in time. His ugly tie flies in the wind. The doors are closing. Everyone's thinking, "Oh my god, this douchebag is gonna take on the iron doors of the elevator!" And then, WHAM! The door closes right on him, and he barges through, into the already packed elevator. And everyone just kinda looks at poor Larry, not knowing whether to laugh, or to berate him with obscenities for instantly exceeding the maximum weight limit and putting everyone's life in danger.

That was totally worth getting dismembered, Larry. Good show. You do realize the extra 15 seconds of productivity translate into literally one extra penny on your bonus. Dick.

Shish Kabobs

A shish kabob consists of a wooden or metal stick with cubes of meat, fish, fruit, and/or vegetables then roasted on a grill. The name translates to "skewer of grilled meat" in Persian. The earliest recipes were documented during the 10th century in present day Iraq and consisted of slices of meat grilled in a frying pan. Some of you may be familiar with the doner kebab. You can't really find this in the United States outside of New York, but it is a sliced lamb or chicken ropped together roasting on a vertical, rotating spit. The meat shaved off the spit and often served in a gyro with hummus, lettuce, tomatoes, and a yogurt sauce.

The above picture happens to be tonight's dinner. Below the colorful veggies are lemon-pepper shrimp kabobs. They will be served with veggie kabobs (red/yellow peppers, onions, and zucchini). I plan to grill both of these and serve them over couscous....a wheat grain typical of Arabic cuisine.

My Green Thumb

I think in another lifetime I was a landscaper. I have always taken a liking to cutting the grass, picking weeds, trimming the hedges, and so on. My friend Mara and I always joke around about opening up our own landscaping business. Our slogan would be "we're hot and legal, not like those other guys!" Of course, I am not sure what we would do during the winter months...bartend in the Caribbean? When everyone turned 16 in my town, they got a nice set of wheels. My dad bought me an electric start lawn mower that was self propelled. The best part was, I was okay with this. I think I have been cutting my grass since I was about 7 years old. Occasionally my brother would do it, but I would pitch a fit because he never made nice symmetrical lines on the lawn like I did. When I was living in the city, my father hired someone to cut the grass and I was highly disappointed at the quality of the cut.

Since I am home for the spring and summer months, I decided to earn my free rent by going back to landscaping again. I'm back on the riding mower, weed whacking, and the 16th birthday gift is still going. The other local landscapers on my neighbor's lawns have wondered who I am, but always give a nice wave as if we are buddies. My neighbors still get a kick out of me cutting the grass as well. The flower beds look good, the hedges are trimmed, the grass is always just the right height and recently my landlord (Nick) has asked me to go above and beyond the call of duty and trim these huge pine trees that he planted when I was about 3 years old. I'm up for the challenge, but I might pay off one of my landscaper compadres across the street to do it!

The picture above is of my front yard against the house. I just recently trimmed the hedges and weeded the bed.

Bird's Eye View

I took this picture before landing in Laguardia Airport the other day. It is the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and it connects Staten Island to Brooklyn. It is the longest suspension bridge in the United States and the second longest in the world to Humber Bridge in England. The total span is 7,200 feet from anchorage to anchorage. I thought it was pretty cool that the water looked red due to the sun setting.

Forza Italia

Despite not initially calling for Italy to win this year's World Cup, I could not be happier to see the Azzurri take home the trophy. Even though they did not play great on Sunday and the game was rather lack luster on both sides, Italy played a great tournament (only allowing 2 goals the entire tourney- one of which they scored on themselves against the US). Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo wins the Hottest Player Award in my book and those who know me, know I have been following him throughout this entire tourney. On the other hand, Italy wins the Hottest Team Award (please note the correlation between greasy, dark haired, olive skin complexion teams).

Since I have plenty of time to read these days, I came across an article in the Navhind Times (the daily paper in Goa, India) with an interesting response from the Italian captain Fabio Cannavaro when asked how he keeps in shape:

“For an athlete it’s as important how you behave off the pitch as you do on it,” Cannavaro said at Tuesday’s press conference. “Eating well, getting plenty of sleep and having sex - all of these things are important. You body needs the right fuel to keep going. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink alcohol, I’ve never liked it. I live a normal, healthy life. I’ve been disciplined for many years and that has served me well.” Asked how often he has sex, Cannavaro replied: “Whenever I want to, it helps me.”

You gotta love Cannavaro (above) and the Italians.