Spamerific!

I get some really awesome spam emails at work. Most of them are in Chinese or some weird computer language with funky symbols, but the ones in English are extremely amusing. Today, one asked me this:

"Tired of sunbathing in clothes because you are too fat?"

I felt that was a little harsh, and it really did a number on my self-esteem. I mean they could have just told me I could lose weight easily with a miracle-inducing Acai berry mixture. They didn't have to go ahead and draw attention to my uber-obesity*, which often causes me to lounge around in 90 degree weather with full fabric coverage from head to toe. Seriously, spam. You're breaking my heart.


*Ok. I'm not really uber-obese. But if I were, you could bet that email would drive me to chow down on krumpets and inhale a 2-liter bottle of coke.

Hemingway's Island Paradise

A little over a week ago I went to Key West for a week-long vacation, and I figure I should write about it just in case you're debating whether or not to go to Key West (don't deny it, you totally are). 

First off, let me just say that it's hot. And sometimes uncomfortably hot. But there are nice beaches and it's near the equator, so if you want to lie in the sand and soak up the sun while waves tumble gently in the background, it's ideal. And there's a lot more to do there besides tanning - the island has a literary (Hemingway, Frost), military (lots of forts to see), and presidential history that's represented through several museums, plus there are lots of day trips to take that will satisfy the wildlife/watersporting enthusiast, and tons of bars and restaurants for the foodies/drunkies. And everything is walkable since the island is small, so you won't need transportation. 

The island's mishmash of activities is also something that made it a little strange, since it seemed there was no coherent message that Key West was broadcasting. Often at night, we'd be walking down the main drag (Duval Street, Key West's idea of Bourbon Street) and we'd pass drag queens, nudie bars, raging drunks, and families with small children - all in one block. That was a bit startling, but I guess it's better to have something for everyone than a niche no one will appreciate. 

So that's my oh-so-short review of Key West. I would like to add, though, that the sunsets are unbeatable: 

and you really can't deny the attraction of views like this:

So if you're in the mood for some Jimmy Buffet-worthy margaritas and a day at the beach, head on down to Key West. 

In local news, last night the Phils beat the Nationals in a game that included not one, but TWO grand slams. And I was there for one of them!

 

No, you are not excused

Today I received an email from a colleague with this "disclaimer" at the bottom:

Please excuse any typos as this was sent from my blackberry

Apparently the standard (and sickeningly promotional) "Sent from my BlackBerry Hurricane-or-whatever-its-called" is not enough anymore. Now we must make excuses for our inability to take correspondence seriously, and our impatience that leads us to send emails from our phones rather that waiting until we are at a computer and in a good position to communicate.

Of course, I know smart phones aren't all bad. We live in a fast paced world. Sometimes you really need to close that deal before noon, and your phone is the only communication device you've got on hand. Smart phones help businesses run smoothly and keep us in touch with people we otherwise wouldn't be able to get a hold of, and I'm all for that.

What makes me angry is that I'm being asked to excuse your behavior, when you really have no right to demand that of me. If the disclaimer had said, "Sent from my thingamajigger; may contain typos," I'd be okay with that. You're simply warning me. But to take it one step further and ask me to to go ahead and overlook the fact that I'm not important enough for you to spell-check or use proper punctuation, well that's going too far.

What's next? "Please excuse my use of annoying abbreviations?" Or "Please excuse the fact that I can't take enough time to actually type out a complete sentence?" Maybe just a blank email with "Please excuse this email, as something in my bag hit the send button accidentally and I don't actually have anything to say to you."

Oh to live back in the day when people wrote long, emotion-filled letters to each other. Now that's correspondence.

Merits of my roommate... I mean... boyfriend

Today started out as a sorry excuse for a Sunday - rainy, muggy, and generally bleak. But as I was standing in the Gap checkout line, eagerly waiting to purchase two new bikinis for my upcoming vacation to Key West, I heard the girl at the cash register say, "Is that the sun I see?" And sure enough, I turned around to discover a bright yellow beacon shining through the dissipating cloud cover. And for the rest of the day, it's been gorgeous and warm. I also made several more purchases at H&M and Old Navy which satisfied my need to have cute summery dresses for the trip. And did I mention it was warm?

But I've had no one to share the beautiful day with, which is a little disappointing. Will is at work doing some last minute stuff before his busy season is over, and who knows when he'll be home. I had to go grocery shopping by myself, and I have to admit that maneuvering through the grocery store is tough and carrying heavy bags home is even harder when you're on your own. And don't get me started on how hard it is to get out your keys and open the heavy front door while holding three large bags. I know sometimes I need my alone time, but the simple act of food shopping makes me grateful that I don't have to settle for just one set of hands... and it helps that the other two hands helping me are the hands of someone I love. :)

The Tale of Irish Mayhem

Once upon last Saturday, three good friends celebrated St. Patty's Day. Though it caused their livers much chagrin, it brought much joy to the rest of their lives. The good tidings began at around 3 with lunch and an inaugural drink at Eulogy. There, the friends mused about who the heck St. Patrick is. The doe-eyed, bushy-haired girl was under the impression he was a dude who led some snakes out of Ireland. It sounds outrageous, but the little literature scholar wasn't so far off course.

The rest of the day unraveled as the group had hoped, with much debauchery and celebration that included, but was not limited to, imbibing Irish car bombs and downing shots of Jameson. But, kids, this story is not without a twist, and so I introduce: The Dirty Leprechaun and the Magic Pizza.

At some point in this most wonderful of Saturday nights, one of the friends announced that a shot would be consumed. "What shot?" asked the jolly bartender. "The dirty leprechaun," answered the friend, with a twinkle in his eye. "I've never heard of that," said the bartender. "Pray you, tell me what to put in it!" The friend paused, having no idea what was in the shot he had just prescribed. That's because he wasn't sure the shot existed. (sidenote: it does!) But damned if that friend was going to let the moment pass with nary an alcoholic intake.

So he made the shot up! "Bailey's, Creme de menthe... and... and..." he struggled to name another cordial. Then another friend, sensing his frustration, spoke up. "BACARDI!" she offered, happily. Though the rest of the friends gave her strange looks, the shot was concocted, imbibed, and verily enjoyed. And since it warranted such enjoyment, it was repeated again through the night.

Of course, as the night wore down, the friends grew tired and drunk... with joy. They headed home, but their stomachs cried out for nourishment. "What shall we do?" they asked, frantically. Luckily, they located a pizza place with reasonable prices and hearty fare, and there they placed their order of a large pepperoni pie.

Well, kids, let me not exaggerate from the truth here: the pizza was indeed magical. It's properties were so great as to span not just deliciousness, but also the staving off of a future hangover. Surely the next morning would have been painful had it not been for that magical pizza with its perfectly round pepperoni and crusty, doughy goodness. Surely!

Thus concludes my tale, but the St. Patrick's Day mayhem lives on in the hearts of all good friends, including YOU!

Murder is NOT funny

But all murder aside, there are two things about this NYT article that made me crack a bizarre smile. One - the murderer's name is Mazoltuv, which sounds like it could be some Jewish kid's "hey-aren't-I-funny-and-clever" screen name (to be fair, she is Jewish). And second, this line:

“We are going to drink vodka,” said a cousin [of the deceased], Ilya Khaimov.

I don't know about you, but that's always my first reaction to a trial where a relative of mine is found guilty for hiring a hit man to kill her husband. Get blootered!

Good thing it's just in time for St. Patty's Day.

The Hazy Philly Skyline

The title doesn't mean anything, it's just what I see from my office building window. We're on the 18th floor, which means spectacular views of all the high-rises and the streets below, but also on days like today when there's a wind advisory in effect, we shake, rattle and roll. A lot.

So I wanted to share this article from the NYT (surprise!) Op-Ed section about a new healthcare system that rewards people for staying healthy over a designated period of time, say 5 years. I think this is a really great idea, although as the authors Tom Baker (represent UPenn, woot!) and Peter Siegelman say it would need lots of planning and oversight. Still, they make a good point that lots of young people (ahem... me) don't want to spend money on health insurance that they don't think they need.

I know I need health insurance on a logical level, but I do oftentimes justify not getting it by saying I can wait a year to get a check-up because I believe i'm pretty health overall. I also hate to think that I'm paying into a plan that's helping other unhealthy people and not really benefitting me at all if I lead a healthy lifestyle and don't see a lot of doctors.

With this plan, I'd be rewarded for my overall health, and that's appealing to me. As they say it's an investment, rather than an expense. I didn't wake up at 7AM this morning for a 2-mile jog and NOT expect to be compensated in some way! Sheesh.

As I was complaining about healthcare earlier, I think this is kind of a cool idea. Does anyone else have any thoughts?

Also, I have a new article up so check it out if you're so inclined.