Someone is blasting Stevie Wonder on the street in front of my apartment right now ...

And wow, I think I'm going to program "Superstition" and "You Are the Sunshine of My Life" into my phone/alarm clock to wake me up every morning. Stevie's voice makes you super cheery, especially on bright and sunny days!

Orange gets the short end of the stick.

Patrick Moberg illustration via A Shot of JD

How I Became a Caricature of All the Single New Yorkers You See on Some Dumb Sitcom

On my lunch break this afternoon, I was walking along 42nd Street, enjoying the day -- bright yellow sun, check! Crisp blue skies, check! Ex-boyfriend walking exactly three people in front of me, shit!

It's funny how one doesn't realize that she really, really doesn't want to talk to/see someone until she is confronted with the possibility. A more mature person would have kept walking and figured, if we bump into each other at the light on the corner, so be it. Que sera, sera. Apparently, I am not a more mature person.

Without really thinking, I froze. Then I took a step back, scanned for a hiding place, ran behind a green kiosk, pulled my dark glasses out of my bag, put them on, popped my head out to see if the coast was clear, and took off in the opposite direction.

I Once Took an Overnight, 19-Hour Bus Ride From Chicago to Baltimore. Yes, I AM a Trooper.

Bolt Bus is offering one-buck bus tickets between places like NYC, D.C., Philly, and Boston. That's really nice of them (and even the high-end tickets are only 7 or 10 dollars), but how are they making money off $1 tickets? And they are, apparently: Their FAQ says the goal is to offer customers the lowest price possible while still making an operating profit.

Plus, they have free wi-fi on the buses! I know it's a bus and all, and buses are sometimes gross/scary*, but for the price, I totally think it'd be worth checking out. They don't allow small dogs, though, which is no bueno since I'd wanna take Boo to visit friends in MD/D.C.

*I live down the street from a Greyhound station, and I see people piling on everyday, looking pretty pissed that they can't afford to fly. And what's scary is they have all this luggage THAT NO ONE CHECKS FOR ANYTHING. There could be bombs, weapons, whatever! Bring it on, all good! As long as you paid your fifteen bucks, no one cares. Oh lord, I guess buses are pretty scary still, even if the price isn't.

Please sign this petition.

It's a very heartbreaking story that I'm way too sad to explain, but you can read more about it here. It's hard to believe that as much as the world has progressed, horrible things like this—that are completely avoidable and just plain malevolent behavior—still happen.

And you can sign the petition here.

Thank you.

'Recession Dressing' With the New York Post

With the downturn in the economy, the NY Post realizes that most of us are going to have to scale back a bit, and that includes clothing. As a sort of service piece, they include some "steals" that will get us through these troubled times. Like this outfit. So here's the breakdown:

* Rebecca Taylor jacket, $460 at Bloomingdale’s* Viscose Coven striped tank top, $168 at Intermix, 1003 Madison Ave.* Hello! SkinnyJeans DayWash jeans, $178 at skinnyjeans.com* May Day heels, $175 at Kenneth Cole* Rebecca Minkoff Market bag, $630 at Bloomingdale's

Gee, thanks, NY Post, but I think we have different ideas of slumming it.

Nothing This Cool Ever Happened When I Lived in Indiana

And I was there for seven LONG years. We moved from Maryland when I was seventeen, right before my senior year (Thanks, mom and dad!!). I stayed, inexplicably, until I was 24. I made a few good friends and we hung out at old-man bars with names like Old Glory, but generally, very few awesome things happen in the Hoosier state. Until now!

Hot Hillary Clinton Party Photos

Completely Unsolicited Family Advice

I sent my very sweet aunt an e-mail with a picture of my dog. She lives out west with her husband and has two grown children. I asked how they all were doing, nothing more. This is the quite interesting (I think!) response I got:

Don't be in any hurry to get married. If anything, don't get married at all—just live with a person til you tire of them then move on.

My very Catholic family has come a long way.

Custom Cake From Wal-Mart

Via Cajun Boy

If you die, then maybe the least the Washington Post can do is figure out how to write your name properly.

Dith Pran, the journalist and activist whose life inspired the movie The Killing Fields, passed away Sunday. He died from pancreatic cancer, which is very bad and which I have a personal vendetta against. Anyhow! Let's carry on: Poor guy, and you'd think the Washington Post could at least get his name right. I understand that those Cambodian names can be a doozy, but they had NO CLUE. Above, you can see that in the first story that appeared online, the paper was baffled about whether Dith or Pran was his first/last name. So they just decided to run his full name in every reference. Which looked really dumb, as you can see.

They even have a quote from someone calling the guy Pran, which would seem to suggest that it was his first name, and if you weren't sure, why not just ask your source? You could have even asked the NY Times, cause they had it right the first time. Just sayin'. I really respect the WaPo, but you'd think that they'd have someone there who would know these things. Even on a Sunday.

The story was fixed in a later edition. You can see that here.

Stuff I Never Thought Would Happen ('80s Edition)

1. I would watch someone play Super Mario Brothers for 23 minutes. From the comfort of my computer. And find it hilarious.
The Hardest Mario Bros. Level Ever

2. I would discover that Mr. T does indeed have magical healing powers.
Mr. T Brought Boy Out of Coma
Via LiveJamie

3. My favorite Website would make me even happier.
The Cocaine Photos
I think the best pic is the one with the guy giving the thumbs up. Also, note the framed poster of the DeLorean in the background, not to mention the dude posing next to the Duran Duran poster. I also think it's funny that in the last photo you can see there's no furniture in the room. Maybe someone just moved in? Maybe this was one of those help-me-move parties, where they give you pizza and beer for helping, except this time it was cocaine.

Fun Conversations With My Mom

Fun Conversations with My Mom is an occasional series on Lorem Ipsum. I love my mom more than anything, but sometimes she says funny things! Or insulting things! But she doesn't mean it. I don't think ...

This conversation took place in Florida around the holidays. My mom and I were driving to the flea market.

Mom: You wouldn't want to live out here.
Me (putting Fresh Sugar Blossom lotion on my hands): Yeah, it's kind of a weird neighborhood.
Mom: And it stinks! Do you smell that?
Me: I don't smell anything.
Mom: You can't smell that? It's awful!
Me (holding up my hand): Is it my lotion?
Mom: Oh, yeah, that's it.

Dear Clay Aiken

Dear Clay Aiken:

Don't do it. How come?

Oh, no particular reason.

Sincerely,

Lorem Ipsum

Things That Rick Astley Won't Do

Sorry to repost, but I just loved it too much. From Challenged Confessions—if you haven't checked it out, it's wonderful. Also highly recommended for similar reasons: The Triumph of Bullshit.

So I Was Just Watching The Bachelor

I know! OK, embarrassing moment over. Anyhow, here's something you should never say if you were just dumped on national TV (I paraphrase, forgive me). Consider it a public-service announcement:

"I miss my cat's purring. And how he sleeps on my legs. I'm looking forward to going home to him."

Update: OK, here's what Michelle P. really said: "I'm gonna see my cat and make sure she's OK and it'll be great to have her purr again and lay in my legs again and to be with her again 'cause she's the love of my life at the moment."
YouTube at 6:05

Why I Would Have Made a Crappy Banker / Investment Manager / Finance Whatever (Aside From the Fact That I Find Long Division Challenging)

Sometimes you have to come in at 3:30 a.m. for weeks at a time. Bill Gross, who people on Wall Street just love to death (he's a genius!), talked to the New York Times this weekend about the current financial crisis. You know, the recession, comparisons to the Great Depression, etc. (Side note: Maria Bartiromo had the head of the FDIC on her show this morning who was all like, "Big deal, everything's fine! You can trust banks!" Do not believe her! I am going to start storing my money under my mattress.)

Anyhow! Gross runs Pimco, which is one of the world's largest specialty fixed-income managers (please don't ask me to explain that), and he was asked how he and his company are managing the current recession. Aside from somehow managing to set aside $50 billion in cash in the event that trading partners came calling, he also noted that staff schedules had changed:

And every day for the last three weeks he has convened meetings in a war room in Pimco’s headquarters in Newport Beach, Calif., “to make sure the ark doesn’t have any leaks,” Mr. Gross said. “We come in every day at 3:30 a.m. and leave at 6 p.m. I’m not used to setting my alarm for 2:45 a.m., but these are extraordinary times.”

Math + Insanely Early Alarm = Deal Breaker for This Girl.

The Most Hilarious E-Mail Exchange Ever Between An Editor and A Would-Be Poet

At the risk of being cruel, I will give you three reasons why our poetry editors passed on publishing your latest submission: First and foremost, as stated in our submission guidelines, TRR only considers previous unpublished material (though, I must confess, we are unfamiliar with the publication, Bitch Factor); secondly, "New Beginnings" suffers from the similar simple rhyming scheme that our editors did not care for in your earlier submission; and lastly, we here at TRR have an unwritten in-house style rule that eliminates poems that employ either the word "panty / panties" or utilize the image of a leaf falling from a tree ...

You can find the whole thing here. Really, it's hilarious in its entirety.

If you're looking for some more light Sunday reading, I also recommend:

Enough Said at failbetter
Gordon Ramsey Has a Nice Quiet Family Dinner at Home at Yankee Pot Roast

Meet My Heroes: The Gentlemen of the Typo Eradication Advancement League

These two guys are currently on a cross-country tour to wipe out spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, and any other typos. For example, they added an "R" to this sign from a bookstore in Galveston, Texas. They are headed west and expect to finish the tour back east in May.

Whew, I was really paranoid about typos while typing that paragraph.

P.S. Hi, TEAL guys! If you read this, just a little tip! There used to be a corner deli in my old neighborhood in Chicago at Montrose and Clark and it said something like "Vegetales" on its sign instead of vegetables. It used to drive me nuts. So, if you're in the Windy City, maybe you could check out that corner?

Husky.

Children's department store, downtown Brooklyn.

There are kinder, gentler ways to advertise clothing for large children, no? I'm sure they were strained to come up with a euphemism for fat, but if I'd been a big kid, I think I would rather have been called just fat instead of husky. Husky implies a rough nature, gruff voice, and (if a woman) manliness. I have not been into this store, but I imagine the "husky" section to be a wonderland of XXL camouflage pants, gun or animal-themed T-shirts that fall to one's knees, and oversize sweats with stretchy elastic. Poor kids.

Way to Ruin Paris for Everyone

This guy Rosencrans Baldwin wrote an essay for the Morning News called "Paris, I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down." No offense, man, but I think that you're the one bringing people down. Or maybe your friends are bringing you down. I mean, you can feel the weight of this essay just pushing down on the guy's shoulders. First his wife has the flu, a cold, vertigo; then he's hanging around with some French guy who doesn't understand American humor (but he fails to see the humor in the French guy's snooty response!); then he invites someone to dinner who suggests that cheap real estate can be had near nuclear facilities. Get new friends; you'll enjoy France more!

I think he's trying to assign the qualities of his small group to all Parisians, and that can be frustrating for the reader when we're given generalities and expected to eat them up as truth. I mean, here's a guy who ends up standing next to Karl Lagerfeld during one point in his essay. Yeah, if I based my perception of New Yorkers on people I met at Fashion Week, then I'd say that a good 50 to 60 percent of NYers are dickheads—though that's not even true, it's just a perception that one might have of them at that point in time. To be fair, Baldwin acknowledges that his malaise is misunderstood by people like me and, well, everyone:

No one hears you when you say you’re sick of Paris. Sick of Paris: three words that make sense to people separately, but not in sequence. And they’re right—what am I talking about?

Don't know why this essay bothered me so much. It's very well-written and I certainly enjoyed it, but such generalities and it just sheathed Paris in this gray, gauzy cloth for me, making the city of lights drab and depressing. Which it isn't! Well, I don't think moreso than anywhere else. I think maybe there's a certain way we have of looking at cities when we're mad at them. I've certainly felt that way about NY, but only in rare moments. Maybe Baldwin is just frustrated and angry with Paris right now, maybe he really loves it, who knows. I think of Joan Didion dissing NY in "Goodbye to All That," it's a city for the very young or the very rich, she knew when it was her time to exit—but she still came back.

Update: Elaine Sciolino is stepping down as Paris bureau chief for the New York Times and offers some really astute and funny observations about France here.