can i just say? vol 13

i'm devoting this entire edition to one subject. like some guy on the WNBC news said this morning (not sure who, i was still half-asleep): "life returns to planet Earth this weekend - baseball is back."

i'm available i would like to take this opportunity to formally announce my intention to step into Steve Swindal's soon-to-be-former role as heir apparent to the Yankees empire. i'm still agape at what an idiot he is. when you stand to take over the Yankees as soon as your crazy father-in-law finishes losing his mind, you don't do ANYTHING to cause your wife to kick you out of the house and file for divorce. but, since he clearly is an idiot and did exactly that, maybe it's just as well that he's out on his bum. i think i am an excellent choice to take his place. why? so glad you asked. for starters, i'm a girl. and there aren't enough girls at the top of that organization. trust me, i've been in that clubhouse - it could use a feminine touch. secondly, i love Derek Jeter. and third, i look great in pinstripes. (see photo.) so, George. think about it. call me. we'll talk.

something's missing last night i was out with my dear friend Sarah (who feels like a superstar when i mention her in this blog, so - there you go, sweetie) and we were chatting away, having a lovely time, but somewhere deep down inside i was aching a little. "Disco Inferno" was playing in the bar and i realized it's one tune i won't be hearing at the Stadium this year. there will be no reason to sing "burn baby burn" because there will be no "Bern" to sing to. and i can't take it anymore - what has happened to Bernie Williams? where is he? where are you, Bernie? he just seemed to vanish into thin air during the off-season, and i think i need some closure. Bernie, if you're reading this (and why wouldn't you be?) come back...come back! (that's my impression of Kate Winslet in Titanic.) even if it's just to say goodbye, Bernie - we need to see you again. we can't end things this way. we just can't.

i'm sorry, i thought you said Carl Pavano was starting... you know it's going to be one of those seasons when your number one pitcher in the rotation hurts himself in spring training and his slot is filled by an infamous character who hasn't pitched a "real" game in 21 months because he hurt his buttocks. yes, that's how the Yankees will start their season on Monday afternoon, with freaking Carl Pavano on the mound. in all fairness, he's pitched well this month and i'm not overly fearful about him starting. (mostly because we're playing Tampa Bay.) and who knows - maybe all that blathering i did the other day about things happening for a reason is actually true. maybe Pavano will knock our socks off on Monday and fully redeem himself and we can all go back to picking on A-Rod.

steeeeee-rikkkkke! i got so excited when i read that a woman was umpiring an exhibition MLB game yesterday. (i know it happened before, but that was way back when i was 12 and not really into baseball. it was my dark period.) i think it's pretty ridiculous that no female umpire has ever worked a regular-season game in the majors, but it seems like Ria Cortesio may get her chance next year, and that just gives me great hopes for my own life. because, you see, if for some reason Steinbrenner doesn't call me for the owner gig, i could study to be an umpire - my dad used to be one and i'm sure he could teach me all his tricks... how different can Little League be from the majors? - and nudge my way into baseball that way. of course, if i was behind the plate when the Yankees were playing, i'm sure i wouldn't last long. i don't think i could resist the temptation to pat Jeter's butt. (what? like you wouldn't?)

on that note, cue New York, New York, grab a hot dog and start slurping the $8 beers. we have a glorious 162 games to look forward to, and life could not be sweeter. PLAY BALL!

mb

i really hope i'm this cool someday

you are my density

i admit i haven't loved "Scrubs" nearly as much this season as i have in the last few years. it just started to get a little stupid in my opinion. (can J.D. really be that big a tool?) but last week's episode resonated with me. it was all about the everything-happens-for-a-reason theory - a theory i find myself pondering often. on one hand, Dr. Cox could be right: there are some things that just happen because they happen. not every last thing in the world has a purpose. for instance, large-scale tragedy and destruction is hard to rationalize. on the other hand, Nurse Laverne also had a point - life can be pretty damn painful at times, and if you can't find a reason (a silver lining, perhaps, an upside) for the crappy things, it can get extremely hard to have any faith in the world.

i was thinking about all of this on Sunday, when i went to visit my Gram. she's in a rehab center, trying to get her strength back up so she can go home. it's a nice place, i guess, though she shares a room with a moaner (an ancient woman who sleeps most of the time and makes the worst noises in the process - i hate to think what she's dreaming about), the food is pretty bad, and, well, it's not her home. right before i found out she'd taken the spill that got her checked into the rehab center, i'd been thinking how much i missed spending time with her. i used to see her all the time - i even lived with her for a couple months when i first started working in the city. but she lives in a part of New Jersey that's hard to get to without a car, and she doesn't drive anymore so she can't pick me up from the bus stop. i was feeling really sad about it, because she's been such a huge part of my life. i love listening to her stories, flipping through photo albums, talking about life.

i took the bus to NJ on Sunday to visit her - and wound up staying for four hours. it was probably the most we've talked, one-on-one, in a really long time. and it was wonderful. the setting wasn't ideal, and it was hard to see her in a wheelchair, but her spirit was the same, and i felt really close to her. on my way home that night, i couldn't help thinking that if there's any upside to what happened, it's that we got to spend time together for a change. i think it meant a lot to her, and i know it meant a lot to me.

there are other not-so-great things that i can find the good in: my drama teacher in high school told me i was a better writer than performer. it was devastating at the time (i dreamt of Broadway), but clearly she knew what she was talking about. i was fired from my fantastic Disney World internship in 1997 for basically being a dumbass. i didn't get the mouse ears with the tassel, but i did get an article in Seventeen because of it, and apparently i've been an inspiration to other college program participants. i had the worst job ever a few years ago - working at a horrid non-profit in the most depressing office ever - but i met someone who's become one of my closest friends. and all the angst i was going through last week seems to have led to a better understanding of myself and perhaps a clean slate, a fresh start.

you could argue both sides of this theory 'til the cows come home. i don't think there's any right answer. it just comes down to faith, as it does with so many things in life. i think, for the moment, i'm going with Nurse Laverne's outlook. whatever helps get you through life, whatever keeps your spirits up, your hopefulness alive - go with it.

mb

separation anxiety

so the writing workshop ended last night, and it felt a lot like the end of camp. not that i've ever been to camp, but it's how i imagine it would be. there's this bunch of people who were strangers not very long ago and somehow (though you were very dubious at first) you grew to really, really like them. and just as you're getting into a groove, really feeling at home around them - bam - it's time to go. i think the only thing that kept last night from turning into something out of the Mary Tyler Moore finale was the fact that we're all planning to re-up for the next session or, at the very least, meet up regularly and keep each other writing.

last night we discussed a story i'd submitted - one i've literally been working on for years. it's no masterpiece, it's just something i haven't been able to get quite right. and the support and encouragement from the other people in the class was so helpful and comforting. "you'll figure it out," they told me. "keep working on it." when you're writing alone, it's so easy to give up on a story, a character, an idea. you write yourself into a corner and there's no one to help turn you around. i don't think i fully realized the importance of having a writing community until this class. (in college, most of the kids signed up for Creative Writing thinking it was an easy A. they didn't give a frig about crafting sharp, revealing dialogue or delving into a character's emotional layers. idiots!) at times it definitely felt a little like group therapy. at other times, we couldn't stop laughing. but we all wrote, and we all gained something.

it's actually really amazing how my brain untangled itself over the last eight weeks. when i started the class, my creativity hadn't seen the light of day in what felt like years. the writer part of me was like some poor plant stuck in a dank, windowless office with a neglectful caretaker. water? ha! sunshine? puhleeze. but being in the class was like relocating to a greenhouse. (OK, i'm not even a green-thumb type, i can't keep this analogy going.) my point is, i really responded to it. the juices started flowing again, i felt confident (well, warily confident - let's not get carried away here) and like maybe i still had something left in me after all.

so i hope our little group doesn't disband. the next session starts in a month, and i hope the enthusiasm doesn't wane. i still have a lot to learn from this group, my fellow campers - the craziest collection of characters i've ever found myself amongst, and truly special people.

mb

can i just say? vol 12

hello sports fans. i left for work this morning in a short sleeve shirt and a lightweight jacket, and wasn't even the slightest bit chilly, so i'm feeling a little chipper this morning. maybe the fact that it's Friday has something to do with it. anyway, on with the round-up...

sounds of spring there's a sports field across the street from my office building, and last night was the first night this year that i saw the little ballplayers out there shagging flies. well, they weren't so much shagging them as watching them drop four feet to the left, but hey - they looked cute in their uniforms. the coach was at the plate, smacking balls into the outfield, and that sound - metal bat on softball - just made me happy. it's the sound of batting cages and my own days in the youth league (god i was dreadful - i picked dandelions in center field!) and a sure sign that summer is on its way.

my new theory i'm assuming even if you don't watch American Idol, you've seen or heard about the little girl who seemingly had a nervous breakdown in the audience the other night. she was downright sobbing over Sanjaya (and not for the same reason i sob over Sanjaya) and it got me thinking. i've heard about other young girls who think he's the be all and end all. ostensibly, this seems ridiculous. why would girls go crazy for a kid who's obviously... well, OK, i'm not going to make assumptions here in the public domain. i don't know for sure what his deal is, but one can make an educated guess about his preferences, no? anyway, let's just say that he is what i think he is, for argument's sake. i think i understand why girls are drawn to types like Sanjaya. i went through it myself in high school. i had a massive, all-consuming, stomach-churning crush on a friend of mine who did all the musicals with me. (that should have been my first sign, right?) he was sweet and charming and loved to talk on the phone. we sang showtunes together (ding-ding-ding! alarms going off everywhere!) and took acting classes together and he was my date for two formal dances. i thought i was madly in love with him, and was devastated when he told me he didn't feel the same way. it literally took me years to realize the error of my ways.... i was barking up the wrong tree. he has since come out, and i chuckle when i think about how tortured i was over the whole thing at age 16. anyway, my point is - i think it must be a common thing for young girls to be drawn to gay guys initially. a cute guy with feminine-ish qualities? it's sort of the perfect transition, isn't it? it's like having a boyfriend and your best girlfriend wrapped into one. anyway, hopefully that little girl in the Idol audience won't be duped for as long as i was. but for now, sob away, honey.

dur so yesterday i took my favorite class at the gym, Total Body Conditioning, with my favorite kick-ass instructor, David. i take the class at least once a week and so i'm used to his routines, his sets, the order of things, etc. there were some new people in the class last night and two of them were completely uncoordinated. i was not laughing at them. i was more charmed by them. i watched them in the mirror and thought, aww, poor things...good for them for trying! well, the yolk was on me in the end. after one set of exercises, i assumed David was moving onto the next set of exercises he normally does. i didn't pay attention and wound up doing something completely different than the rest of the class. i was laying on my back doing chest presses while the rest of the class was sitting up doing shoulder presses. i caught on eventually and laughed at myself. typical! as soon as i get the slightest bit impressed with myself, i am reminded that i'm really just not that cool after all.


OK, well, enough babbling here. i'm still trying to figure out what to do with the story i was supposed to have distributed to my writing class last Monday. i need to figure it out, like now. and, you know, do work-work. but have the happiest of weekends!

mb

meet me in montauk...

i got home around seven o'clock last night feeling tired and defeated. it had been a draining afternoon. i sat down with a glass of wine and a few slivers of Gouda (which may have gone bad, i'm not sure) and flipped through the channels on the TV. as fate would have it, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was on one of the six thousand movie channels we have. it was about halfway over, but i left it on. the movie has a lot of personal meaning for me (not unlike Little Miss Sunshine - i guess there's a theme there) and the fact that i happened to flip to it last night - well, i won't say it was a sign. but i watched it with a completely different perspective.

the whole point of the movie - to me - is that there are some people you can never erase from your life. you may think you want to at various points, but it does no good. whether it's because certain people are meant to be in your life, or that certain experiences - good and bad - have their purpose, trying to blot out the past is impossible. foolish, even. people need the past. for perspective, for learning. sometimes, the past helps you get to a new place. and sometimes, it comes back to kick you in the ass.

i inadvertently hurt someone close to me recently. and i thought about that person a lot watching Eternal Sunshine last night. toward the end of the movie, Clementine and Joel - who think they've just met each other - hear their voices on tape, naming each other's horrible habits and traits. none of it was true, of course. the Clem and Joel on tape were hurt and betrayed and despondent. they just were venting and trying to make the pain go away. they were bashing the very things that had brought them together in the first place - and would bring them together, again and again.

Clem hears too much on the tape and she gets up to go, tells Joel she can't be there right now. he watches her leave, but then goes after her. "wait," he calls, finding her in the hallway. she says, "why?" and he says, "i don't know, just wait...for a while." they have a connection that makes no sense and everything around them is confusing, but Joel doesn't want to let her go. he can't imagine meaning all the things he heard himself say on the tape. they look at each other in the hallway, knowing way too much. and then they shrug it off. they say "OK" despite everything.

it all made me think. why do we say such hurtful things to each other? why do we say and do things we don't even mean? i think the vast majority of people in this world are not mean-spirited. they're not bad eggs. but sometimes you can forget another person is just that - a person. you can become consumed by hurt and anger and believing you're right. and maybe you are - maybe you are right. maybe you have a right to be upset. but people still have feelings. everyone has feelings.

you watch Joel and Clem's relationship in the reverse during Eternal Sunshine. their memories are erased backwards. you see where it ends, and ultimately how it began. and along the way, you can see where things went wrong. you can see the choices each of them shouldn't have made, things they shouldn't have said. they get another chance to meet in Montauk - because it's fate? - and you hope that hearing the tapes has some sort of influence on them. maybe they'll realize how important they really are to each other. maybe they'll be slower to get angry. maybe they'll learn from their mistakes.

i know i would.

mb

spring hopes eternal

so it's officially spring again. never mind that my fingers felt frostbitten this morning on my way to work. and sure, it may snow again, temporarily crushing the spirit of everyone who's already pulled out their spring clothes from storage. but there's no turning back now. warmer weather, glowing forsythia and a brand-new baseball season are all right around the corner.

in a word: hallelujah.

i've been reading my old journals lately. really old journals, from right after college. initially i was just doing research for something i'm writing. but now i'm sort of engrossed by them, by who i was then, what was going on in my head. the letters 'PMS' appeared - no kidding - on nearly every page. i can see so plainly now that i was depressed. i blamed hormones, but i was really just overwhelmed by real life, by the fact that there was no syllabus anymore, that i had to figure out what to do on my own. i was calling the shots, but i had no game plan. for someone who had always been so together, so anxious for the future, i was shockingly disoriented and utterly unprepared. my life didn't feel like the life i had hoped for, counted on. i kept thinking i was doing something wrong, so i stopped doing anything. i was isolated and lost and lonely. and i languished like that for months.

then spring came, and i started to come out of my fog. as far as i can tell from my old journals, there was no impetus other than i was just sick and tired of feeling down, of feeling less than. and spring always carries with it a certain promise. the air starts to smell gentler, the daylight lingers into night, people in general seem more at ease. maybe it's easier to get a fresh start in spring. maybe the hope that was nowhere to be found all winter crops up with the daffodils. life just seems a little bit brighter.

the old journals are hard for me to read sometimes. i love that i have them, that i can look back, but i wind up feeling sad for the girl who was writing them. if only she knew then what i know now... and of course it makes me wonder if i'll feel the same way six or seven years from now, when i go back and read my current journal, or even this blog. ironically, i'm feeling a little bit like that girl in the old journal right now: a twinge overwhelmed by real life, lacking a solid game plan. i guess it's too early to say what this spring will bring - we're only about fourteen hours in - but i think it's safe to say some hope is on its way.

mb

can i just say? vol 11

so this morning i was reading the paper and there was a quote from a woman - a tourist - talking about how the drastic weather we're having is "evil." i thought, that's overstating it a bit, no? let's not be dramatic now. uhhh... i take it back. i was just outside and it's ridiculous! we in the office call this kind of weather microdermabrasion. high wind + lots of ice = free facial. free painful facial. anyway.

march madness indeed all we wanted to do was go to a pub last night. but the ides of march got us. every place we tried was wall to wall people. it was hard to tell if it was all about NCAA or pre-St. Patty's partying, but whatever it was, the crowds were insane. we settled on a swanky Park Avenue place that was definitely not a pub. but it had booze and food and a comfy place to catch up - and really, those are our only requirements. it also had flaming menus. long story, but i will say that it's not easy being a firefighter after three glasses of wine. i tried to douse the flames with my glass of water - but the water landed a good three feet to the right of the fire. brilliant.

bracket buster so the place we wound up last night had one flat screen TV. considering hockey is dead, the NBA is boring, and baseball hasn't started yet, it would seem a no-brainer what would be on the flat screen TV. of course - ice skating. i'm not kidding. actually, at first it was soccer. then ice skating. even though i was there to catch up with my girls, i was thisclose to making a smart ass comment to the bartender about the programming choice. but the next time i looked up the Duke game was on. and i immediately wanted the ice skating back on. i wasn't going to do an NCAA pool this year, but at the last minute i did. and i usually pick some upsets, but this year i was conservative. it's served me well so far with one exception - Duke! as my favorite t-shirt says: WTF? so much for my final four. i'm used to not doing well in these things, but to be all but knocked out after the first day? dammit!

it doesn't make sense switching gears... the shootout in the Village the other night was messed up for a million reasons. i actually had no idea there was such a thing as an Auxiliary Police Officer until two were killed that night. and i have to admit - while i don't know all the facts - i do think having unarmed uniformed "cops" roaming the streets is really foolish. especially in this unpredictable city. how can you expect officers to protect citizens against nutjobs, when the nutjobs have more resources (ie ammunition) than the officers? i don't know what the solution is, but it seems there needs to be one.

green day it doesn't look like i'll get my corned beef & cabbage (and, ohhh, homemade Irish soda bread) tomorrow, thanks to Mother Nature. but i 'spect my Irish eyes will be smiling tomorrow nevertheless - with some help from a few pints, of course. i do love St. Patrick's Day, especially in New York. wherever you are tomorrow, wear something green, do a little jig... and take advantage of having a great excuse to get hammered! (ha!)

happy weekend... pray for spring!
mb

peer pressure

i'm being harassed into posting something, even though life has been hectic and i have nothing specific to write about at the moment. it's been one of those weeks when everything happens at once. work is at its busiest right now, i had a last-minute job interview this morning, my poor grandmother wound up in the hospital, and to top it all off, it's going to snow tonight and tomorrow, even though it feels like May outside. oh, no, wait - to really top it all off, Sanjaya will live to sing another song on Idol.

but you know, it's actually all OK. i realized last night, as i was putting in my 12th hour at the office, that i sort of thrive on this. not that i want my life to be like this all the time - i would surely keel over - but when there's too much downtime i go crazy. i usually like having too many things to do. i think it's genetic.

anyway, my grandmother is actually doing fine, and hopefully she won't mind me sharing this story. (i highly doubt she fully understands what a blog is, let alone is able to get on the internet to read mine, so it's probably a non-issue.) anyway, she took a spill in her condo earlier this week. she's 81 years old, lives by herself, and of course it was an unpleasant experience. however, it could have been much more unpleasant, to hear her tell it. i spoke to her yesterday on the phone. she told me she was feeling good, getting double-doses of painkillers (which was quite evident in her voice - i haven't heard her sounding so jovial in a long time). she explained that she took the spill in her bathroom. "my arm went right in the toilet bowl," she told me. "but, i hadn't gone yet." well, thank goodness for small favors, Gram.

OK. i actually have lots of "real" writing to do, so that's all from me for now. (happy Sarah?)

mb

random funniness

crazy time at work, but i had two funnies i thought were worth sharing... especially after my rain cloud of a post on Friday.

Saturday night i had a really hilarious dream. but first, a little back story: my mother used to be a reporter for our local paper. when Jack Wagner - then most famous for his hotness on General Hospital - was touring in a production of West Side Story (as Tony, natch), she had the opportunity to interview him. we were at the Jersey shore at the time, and so she interviewed him over the phone from a real estate office down the street (because our cottage didn't have a phone - this was before cell phones, if you can remember that far back.) anyway, it was a big to-do. we were all a-twitter. and a month or so later, my mother took lucky me to see the show at the Valley Forge Music Fair. our hearts thumped for Frisco (i mean, Jack) as we watched him sing and dance and gang-fight live on stage. fast forward 20 years to last week, when his name popped up in the gossip pages as the new boytoy of Heather Locklear (his former Melrose Place co-star). all of this was inexplicably swirling in my brain Saturday night as i slept, and the following fantasy was born:

i am in the cast of Ugly Betty and Jack Wagner is the guest star that week. in between filming scenes, he's getting all handsy with me. finally, after one particularly blatant groping, i spin around and hiss, "watch it, Wagner. i've had about enough of you." and he says, "i can't help it. being near you, i'm reminded of the time i danced with your mother." my jaw drops open. clearly my mother's relationship with this washed-up soap star was far more intimate than i realized. i force him to spill his guts, and he confesses he'd been in love with her all those years ago. i am outwardly outraged, but inside can't help thinking All right, Mom!

i woke up from this hilarity and burst out laughing. i will definitely not be analyzing this dream. too scary.

and, just another quick funny... i've had a long tedious day at work and i'm off to writing class tonight. after sitting through a mind-numbing meeting from 4 to 5 o'clock, i needed a pick-me-up, so i ran across the street to the bodega to get a can of Enviga (which i discovered just yesterday is actually quite good) and a little bag of Mike & Ike's. Enviga, you may know, claims to burn calories, though i'm not that gullible and it's not why i like it. it just tastes better than Red Bull and it's a nice burst of caffeine. anyway, the nice bodega man sees what i'm buying and says, "why you buy dis (the Enviga) and dis (the candy)? you burn calories but den you put dem right back." i tell him it all evens out, and besides, i need the energy. "you be careful you don't fall down in street!" he tells me. i smile and reply, "trust me - i'm bound to fall down anyway."

when i can't fall asleep tonight, i'm sure i'll replay that conversation in my head. and then, with any luck, i'll dream about Jack Wagner again.

mb

can i just say? vol 10

sorry for the dearth of posts this week. it's been a crapola one, for many reasons. (i'm using my new favorite picture of my cousin Scott to illustrate my mood.) but i couldn't let a Friday slip by without sharing my two cents...and that's about all i have after my losing lottery tickets.

vote for who you want to stay, people i think everyone who votes for American Idol is confused. or, as Howard Stern apparently thinks, the call center is really in India, thus the reason Sanjaya is in the top 12. not that i was a big Sundance Head fan (his name reminds me of how Scott sometimes calls people Coconut Head) but the Sanjaya hula footage shown Tuesday night is forever burned on my brain and i would just as soon not see him perform ever again. incidentally, $20 says that hula footage is hauled out of the archives in 10 years when he gets arrested for doing something creepy. (you know it's coming.) on the bright side, at least Anotella got the boot (yes, i know i spelled her name wrong, and last week too - i'm just going with it.)

jersey pride the mayor of Bloomfield, NJ is refusing to let the final scene of the final episode of the final season of The Sopranos be filmed there. he thinks the show is not only demeaning to Italians, it's demeaning to New Jersey. he doesn't like the way people think about his beloved state thanks to The Sopranos. umm, correct me if i'm wrong, but i think people were slamming the garden state loooong before "dese guys" showed up on HBO. but, hey, i was born in good ol' Jerz. i think it's cute that he's trying to protect it from being cast in a poor light on a show that people have all but forgotten about. that'll show 'em, mayor!

just outlaw them already that huge fire in the Bronx is really upsetting. eight kids? all because of a space heater? there was a blurb in the paper today about how most fires in the winter are caused by space heaters. if they're so easily misused or prone to combustion, i'm wondering why they're legal. or why someone hasn't come up with a better version. losing eight little ones is just too much to bear.

things i'm over this week: scarves, hats, mittens and other accessories necessary in sub-freezing weather conditions... sub-freezing weather conditions, especially in march... playing the lottery... repeats of The Office (how long do they intend to make us wait to see Roy pummel Jim?)... celebrities in rehab (it's not a spa, it's called recovery)... craigslist housing ads (what is wrong with people?)... Angelina Jolie adopting another child (collecting kids as a hobby!) ... and oatmeal - i don't care, muffins are just so much more enjoyable at breakfast.

OK. that's all. oh - don't forget: they're screwing with our internal clocks and whole way of living this year by moving up daylight saving time. set your clocks ahead on Saturday night and lose some more sleep. happy weekend...!

mb

hmm...

one of the winning lottery tickets was sold in New Jersey. i have many relatives in New Jersey, though I haven't received any phone calls or mysteriously large checks as of yet.

gram, you better not be holding out on me... i know where you live!

mb

just planning ahead...

i suppose writing this is a surefire jinx, but on my way to work this morning, with the so-cold-it's-just-mean wind blowing right through me, i thought of the lottery ticket in my wallet and started fantasizing about what i would do with $135 million after taxes. a daunting task, but i persevered. **this is an unofficial list, subject to change if i actually win...

1. quit my job SO hard.
2. pay off my credit cards and student loan.
3. call my father for financial advice (but know that he'll probably pass out before he imparts any guidance). call Suze Orman instead.
4. go out for lots of champagne and red wine with my friends, but don't tell them anything yet... just mysteriously pick up the tab.
5. after the grand announcement, book a vacation for all my friends and family, probably to Disney World, just because.
6. buy a dog (like the Boggle in the picture hanging over my soon-to-be former desk at work) and name her Margaret because it's a funny name for a dog, but call her Maggie for short. Mags for shorter.
7. buy my parents an island, or at least a place on an island.
8. buy everything for sale in Anthropologie.
9. buy new luggage.
10. travel for, like, a year, wherever i feel like going - i'll bring Mags with me - and come back with so many stories.
11. buy a house - but not too big - wherever i decide to settle. maybe i'll want to settle in a few places.
12. buy everything for sale in Crate + Barrel for said new house(s).
13. buy Yankees season tickets. no luxury box, though - i want to be behind the dugout. (oh, guess i'd have to settle somewhere nearby then.)
14. make sure my friends and family are taken care of and happy (Kerri gets $1,000,000 because that was our deal).
15. make sure my someday-children have enough for college (and med/law school, if they so choose).
16. make my cheese-of-the-month club membership a lifetime thing.
17. donate money to my high school, with the explicit instructions that it be used build a state-of-the-art theater. it shall be named the Rosie Alvarez Performing Arts Center, in honor of my last stage role there. (and its curtain shall be velvet and red, not barfy yellow.)
18. buy a convertible, just to have it.
19. buy a Vera Wang wedding gown, for future use.
20. give the rest of it away, randomly, to people and places that really need it.

i guess that's it. i wonder how much items 1 through 19 would actually cost. these people who have billions of dollars - what do they do with it? i'm having enough trouble trying to spend $135 million. NOT that i would mind having such trouble. well, anyway, if i don't update my blog for a while after today, you'll know i didn't jinx myself. fingers crossed.

mb

can i just say? vol 9

so it's finally March - whee! i actually saw a robin yesterday, red breast and all, down in the West Village. a hopeful sign? i'd say so. now, onto the bitching...

whosawhatsit? that was my reaction last night when A.J. was sent home on Idol. that kid with all the hair, who creeps me out the same way Michael Jackson creeps me out, is staying? and A.J. is going? and Anotella, the naked web wonder, who can't carry a tune in a bucket - who chose a Celine Dion song - gets to torture us for another week while Leslie (who isn't great, but is at least more likable) is booking her flight home? it's Idol insanity! all in all, this week was better than last, i think. i loved the guys (Sanjaya excluded), and the girls were decent (Alaina excluded - she drove me crazy by singing "Not Ready to Make Nice." such a bad choice on her part. i wasn't sorry to see her go.) one more thing, before this turns into another American Idol blog, how awkward was that whole Kellie Pickler segment last night? the spider sushi banter was so forced, and helloooo boob job! i felt so bad for the poor thing when she started to break down during her song. but i couldn't help thinking she looked so farty with that new hair style. maybe Daughtry will be the special guest next week, and last night will just be a bad memory.

i snooze, you lose i admit i wasn't so geared up for the Oscars this year. i really just wanted to see if Ellen danced in the aisles. it started out all right, but as soon as the gospel choir appeared, i got queasy. with very few exceptions, the broadcast was a snooze - literally. i kept falling asleep out of sheer boredom. even Jennifer Hudson seemed a little zombie-ish - like she'd been anticipating the moment for so long, now that it was actually here it didn't seem real, or as good as she thought it would be. or maybe she was just freaked out by those interpretive dancers. yeah, that was probably it.

spring swing yesterday i went to the gym on my lunch break with the sole purpose of watching a few innings of the Yankees first spring training game. it was so worth sweating for 40 minutes on the elliptical! Chien Ming-Wang looked great, A-Rod had a nice play at third, and Johnny Damon smacked a home run in his first at-bat. ahh, happiness. and i wasn't the only one longing for baseball. half the gym's staff was gathered around one of the flat screens, watching the same game, as giddy as i was. i don't know if it's just this city, or if it's a universal human need, but baseball seems to be an antidote for all that ails.

the new money honey? the Megamillions jackpot is now... $267 million dollars. that's why i bought a ticket this morning, in the little bodega across the street from my office. it's run by two kindly Indian gentlemen who regularly sell me Red Bulls and oat bran muffins, and i figure it's as lucky a place as any. can you imagine? it would literally be the answer to my prayers if i won. i know the odds are that the cash will be split 26 ways by a group of assembly-line workers in a teeny town in Michigan, but hey, you never know.

happy-first-weekend-in-March!

mb