You're Invited!

The other day Flea and I were in a little gourmet/organic market trying to kill time before our burger joint let us in for lunch. We're poking around at the various grains and hippie vegetables when I come across a little fabric thing with a cute cowboy hat/stars and stripes motif. It's a P.I.M.P.

As I'm checking out the other styles, the granola loving vegan at the counter announces, "Those are GREAT! I absolutely love them."

"Them" ... the "P.I.M.P."'s, as it were ... are reusable feminine hygiene pads. P.I.M.P. stands for "Party in my Pants."

Ewwww. Reusable? Pads?Ok. I get the whole organic, love the Earth, stop global warming thing. But answer this for me: Say you're on your period. You're at, oh, the mall. It's time for a new party in your pants. What do you do with the old party? Do you clean it there at the communal sink? Do you swish it in the toilet water and wrap it in seat covers?

I was checking out the Party in my Pants website and it's actually a cute site. Nothing like you'd expect from creepy people who refer to their menstruation as their "moon cycle".

If you're in the comfort of your own patchouli-scented abode, fine. Well, kind of fine. You're still rinsing menstrual blood from a flannel happy face print pad. I can think of few things more hideous than this.

I can think of one thing more hideous. And it came in the form of a "Hot Tip" on the P.I.M.P. pamphlet.

Anybody up for a salad?

Where Have I Been?

Hey everyone -- sorry I've been out of touch recently. We've been pretty busy at work and for the last week I've been on the go with a couple of events. One was a fancy schmancy to-do in Newport, RI. The other was a low-brow shindig in Baltimore. The best of both worlds.

In Newport my clients stayed at a Relais & Chateaux property and enjoyed brunch at the New York Yacht Club followed by a day of sailing on actual America's Cup boats.
In Baltimore, my clients were entertained by Sha Na Na in a ballroom at the Marriott.Yes. That Sha Na Na. These days there are only three original members left, none of whom remembers their infamous performance at Woodstock.Actually, I don't know whether they remember or not. I didn't ask. However, I did talk to their road manager and he had the entire story. Seems that Jimi Hendrix was a little nervous about following The Who and decided he needed an opening act. He saw this band at a bar and asked them if they'd do the gig. That band was Sha Na Na. Jimi paid them with a bad check and somehow Sha Na Na ended up with a TV show and a pretty sweet job in a little film called Grease.

Anyway. I'm back and will be writing again, with fervor, ASAP.

I've decided.

This is my favorite flag:It's Turkey's flag. And I think it's the best flag I've ever seen.

Erica's Creative Team Award

Boy. I have such talented friends (and lovahs). I feel like every week I'm posting a new competition and begging all of you to vote. This one is from the creative team at Weight Watchers, where Erica works, and she asked that I post it.

Here it is:Hello everyone,

I just wanted to let you know (or remind you if you know already) that our “Stop Dieting Start Living” campaign hub is a finalist in one of the biggest Flash competitions out there – Flash Forward. You can view our submission and the other finalists here:

www.flashforwardconference.com finalists - it’s in the “Video” category at the bottom.

Also – it would be great if you could vote (and get all your friends to vote) for us in the People’s Choice Award:

www.flashforwardconference.com people's choice - again “Video” category - “Stop Dieting Start Living”

Voting ends next week so let’s get those votes in!!!

Stick a Fork in Me

I don't think my Zoloft is working. Does anyone know whether it's the kind of drug to which one builds up a tolerance? Granted, there are days when I forget to take it, but more than not, I'm pretty regular with it.

Erica tells me that it's not supposed to cut off all emotions. And if that's true, what exactly is the point?

Of course, it's been a trying few weeks for me. The whole family found the blog (Hi everyone!) and the word from my sister is that I have been anointed with the end-all, be-all punishment of Southerners.

Susan. They all read it. And they are done with you.

My family has always had their ways of being done with someone -- none of which involves direct confrontation (except the year I ruined Christmas -- I'll tell you that one later).

Perhaps the most infamous of the line of the "Done With" in our family was my great Uncle Elzie. As a young boy, Elzie decided to run off to California in search of his dream to be a movie star. Family rumor has it that he actually made it into a couple of films, though I couldn't find him on IMDB. I am, however, pretty sure that this rumor is the only reason the family kept talking about him during holidays after he was done with.

You know, we have a relative that was in the movies

That and as a warning to the youngsters to not betray the family lest you become done with as well.

Uncle Elzie's most vicious crime was that after he left for California he reportedly never returned. Not for Christmas, Easter, Homecoming at the Baptist Church. Nothing. He deserted his Mama and Fitzgerald completely. All because that selfish bastard wanted a life of his own. The only acceptable way you can move away from home in my family is if you return for visits as often as humanly possible. (Because it's always so pleasant when we all get together.) And, more importantly, you should never succeed too much, lest you become uppity or think you're better than everyone else.

Now. My take on Uncle Elzie is this: I don't know him, or his Mama, so I'm not sure what the deal is there. Maybe she sucked. Or, maybe they loved each other and they talked on the phone twice a day and enjoyed their wonderful long-distance relationship. What I do know is that Elzie had a loving wife who visited us once with photos and stories and did her best to get Elzie back into the fold. The family was super nice and sat through the stories and photos and as soon as she left the conversation went straight to how Elzie betrayed everyone.

I secretly envied Uncle Elzie. His story seemed so exotic and exciting. And for me, in a world where the only options I knew I had were to either teach, type or raise babies, Uncle Elzie gave me hope.

Uncle Elzie, if you're out there, know that even though I never met you, I loved you. Thanks for the inspiration.

I made it.