Sunday, January 31, 2010

So you think it's funny?

I was on the train recently when I overheard - and trust me, it was impossible not to - a conversation one young girl was conducting on her cell phone. She very excitedly was retelling how one of her friends got so drunk at some party that on his way home he was stopped by a cop driving in the wrong direction on the one way street. To make the story even funnier - for the girl on the cell that is - it was the street where the guy lived and knew very well. The guy was so drunk that he could barely answer cop's questions - the girl was practically giddy with laughter talking about it. At the end, since the guy was practically two houses away from his home, the cop let him go scot-free. At that point I thought the girl would pee her panties with excitement. "Can you imagine? So drunk blah, blah, blah, hee hee hee."

This was one of the very few times in my life when I had a very strong urge to either yell or shake or do something to a person I did not know at all. I didn't think that there were people over the age of 13 who thought that drunk driving was hilarious. It's as if we don't know how many people get killed or maimed by drivers like this girl's friend. I find it hard to understand why the cop let this guy off the hook. Hopefully, the guy learned a lesson, but if he didn't - I pray he doesn't injure anyone after another party and gets stopped by a cop who is a bit less generous towards people who are careless with health and lives of others. But I might be hopeful in vain because it seems that cops care more about giving tickets to sober drivers standing at the pump while dropping off their offspring at the nearby school.

I might be hopeful in vain because few weeks ago our neighbor's fence got knocked down by a car that swerved out of control. If this were summer, or morning, or week-end or late afternoon, there would be children behind that fence. I shudder to think about the odds of their survival if they were there. The words "zero to none" come to mind. SubHub ran out to see what had happened and to offer assistance to the driver. The guy was not injured, but was so intoxicated, he could barely talk. He, however, had enough presence of mind to flee the scene of the accident. He was later apprehended by cops who told SubHub and a few other witnesses that the driver of the car would most likely not be charged with anything since there was only property damage. How about the fact that he was drunk? The cop only made a face and let people know that he was too busy for trivialities like that.

I wanted to blog about this story before, but every time I thought about the girl on the train or overly forgiving cops, I would inevitably get angry. I want to know what the heck happened to all the tough laws against driving while intoxicated? What is their purpose if cops let people caught driving drunk go left and right? Do we only enforce them when someone gets injured? Seriously, what the hell?

And now with Purim approaching, I decided to post this. Because drinking and driving is just not funny. And definitely not in the spirit of the holiday.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Her name was Lola...

SubHub came home a few days ago and told me that some guy tipped him off about a huge sale on paper goods. I wonder how the conversation even got to this point, but I could be wrong about male stereotypes and maybe some men actually are budget conscious and tell each other about the latest prices of chicken legs and TP. (Moshe, you are the only one I know.) But I digress.

The guy was perplexed by SubHub's cool reception of the news, so SubHub had to explain that we barely use paper/plastic goods. The guy was shocked. "So no disposables?" "Only cups." "No plastic plates?" "No, very rarely." "You MUST have a dishwasher?" to which SubHub replied, "..."

At this point I rudely interrupted SubHub's recount of the conversation with, "Yes, yes we do! Her name is SubWife!"

SubHub didn't find this joke nearly as amusing as I did. I wonder why. Then again, he didn't bring home any paper plates either.

Monday, January 18, 2010

There was once a dog

This is one of the best cartoons I have ever seen and now I have finally found it on Youtube. There are English subtitles, which unfortunately don't do justice to the original, but there are that many words to begin with. Hope you'll enjoy as much as I did.

Consumerist stole my post!

Ever wonder why baby products cost more - and often MUCH more - than their adult versions? And if there are no adult equivalents, then the one can be guaranteed to pony up a lot of dough for almost nothing. Examples? Just off the top of my head - baby food, formula, diaper rash creams, toys, children's books, clothing, shampoos, baby bottles, breast milk bags ... the list could go on and on and on.

On the other hand, this creates a bright business idea. Just add the word "baby" to your product - and voila! You can charge 30% more without any justification! Too bad, there's no accounting for babies, or I would get seriously rich seriously fast. Hey, there's an idea - Baby Accountant video series! Guaranteed to teach your baby how to count, use a spreadsheet, get comfortable with debits and credits, and as a bonus feature - how to defraud the government and your shareholders. We do not guarantee results, but if your baby doesn't show any interest in the above activities, he will definitely fall asleep!

Anyone willing to invest?

Thursday, January 7, 2010

My Clueless/Die Hard moment

A friend and a fellow blogger Sally Hazel had posted today about mixing up Ecuador and El Salvador in a conversation. Something very similar happened to me, and I was wondering how to turn it into the post, so now Sally gave me an excuse and provided much needed inspiration.

A few weeks ago I was having a highly intellectual (insert: sarcasm) discussion with a friend about news and hostage situations in particular, and the topic shifted to the Stockholm syndrome. We discussed it for about ten minutes, and I had referred to the syndrome by its name probably a dozen times. After I hung up, all of a sudden I felt the insides of my stomach getting cold. To my shame and horror I realized that throughout the entire conversation I had referred to the condition as a "Helsinki syndrome". Yikes! And the person with whom I was having this conversation did not correct me either and let me make a fool out of myself over and over again. Wonder if she was stifling giggles on the other line. (For the record, I am sure she wasn't because she is super nice. I am really blessed with good friends.)

And now for the extra credit:

Why would SubWife make such a silly mistake???

Before posting this, I decided to Google Helsinki Syndrome, just to make sure that such a condition does not exist. Ta-da! I found the answer and the person to blame it on.

It's HIS fault.

I blame Alan Rickman! I had watched Die Hard just a day or two before this conversation, and in that movie they had gotten their geography completely wrong and indeed referred to the Stockholm syndrome as the Helsinki syndrome. Here's the quote from

The Helsinki Syndrome mentioned in the film is a reference to the real-world Stockholm Syndrome. Why it was changed in the film is unknown. Coincidentally, the newscaster incorrectly informs his viewers that it refers to Helsinki, Sweden (Helsinki is actually in Finland, while Stockholm is in Sweden).

OK, case closed, SubWife not completely crazy, moving on with life.

DDT - You are not alone

One of my favorites songs, which for some reason "speaks" to me today...

Monday, January 4, 2010

Would you like a menu?

I discovered tonight, to my great shame and embarrassment (which I of course had to share) that the kid who had been whining and crying and finally screaming for the past hour (and waking up every half hour for 2 hours before that) was NOT doing that because she was a) teething, b) in need of a good burp, 3) in pain, 4) needed a diaper change, or 5) simply trying my patience. She, actually, was hungry, a fact obscured by her refusal to eat apples with oats, lukewarm acceptance of cottage cheese and a look of disgust and contempt she gave me every time I offered to nurse her. Turned out the kid wanted real food. She wanted chicken and wouldn't settle for anything else.

Her whining turned into giggles as soon as she saw me taking a chicken leg out of the fridge. Now that she had filled her little tummy with the food of her choice and once clean kitchen floor is covered with pieces of half-chewed chicken that were previously smeared all over her face in a fit of gastronomical euphoria, my little carnivore easily dosed off without rocking, holding, nursing or a pacifier. And I am still up, feeling like a horrible mother who deprived her child of nutrition.

One would think that after experimenting on the first two, things of this sort wouldn't happen with #3. Alas, that's not true, or I am somewhat motherly challenged. To my defense I have to say that a) I feel terrible, b) bothered by her lack of interest in solid food, I have searched Internet for a good portion of the day trying to figure out how much a 10 month old should eat, c) unfortunately (or fortunately) she is the only child of this age I encountered, mine or otherwise, who would rather go hungry than eat something she doesn't WANT (but likes at other times, just not today).

Fortunately (or unfortunately) she's #3 and guilt won't keep me up much longer.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Out of the mouth of the babe...

DS, patting his protruding ribs and concave tummy after lunch, "I have a big tummy, just like Mommy and ___." There were quite a few other names, but I won't mention that...

Currently trying to decide whether to multiply this year's goal for weight loss by 3 or by 4. Baby steps are obviously not working.