Email This – Thursday April 29th


I’ve been reading about Stephanie Grace, the Harvard Law student who sent out a mass email explaining her view on the intelligence of American Americans. It wasn’t good. The email was long and boring and full of a lot of pseudo-psycho babble bullshit.


Actually, it reads like a chicken who had its head cut off but was still able to achieve high accolades at Harvard Law School then get behind a computer and started flapping its wings on the keyboard right before it finally died. You know what I mean.


It’s a sad story for several reasons. First, obviously, it’s sad to see such a pathetic example of racism and naivete by one of our (or so we thought) intellectual elites. Second, this girl is ruined…she might be a complete asshole, but her life is now ruined because of an email. Third, black students at Harvard (and now, elsewhere) have to read more racist crap just when we all thought we were making strides as a nation.


But the reality of the situation is that this girls doesn’t deserve to be a successful lawyer. If she can’t think ahead two steps to what might happen if you send out a racially charged email, you probably aren’t going to do that well as an attorney. For god’s sake, if you make it to the third year at Harvard law and NO ONE ever mentioned that you shouldn’t put in writing anything you couldn’t read to your boss, mother and grandmother- you’re not going to do that well as an attorney. Granted, I’ve written a lot of emails I regret. A lot. But I’m not going to be a lawyer, and my wild successes have everything to do with my charming personality and wit and nothing to do with my intelligence or forethought.


Maybe these things are obvious to me me because I am the granddaughter, daughter, and sister of very successful lawyers. Or maybe because I’m not a racist. But really I think it’s obvious to me because at my very core I’m just not a god damned idiot.

I Smell A Contest – Wednesday April 28th

Dear Poor Lucky Me,


Your readers must know: What are you going to name your baby? May we submit ideas? I have some very good, unique suggestions that I’m happy to donate to your baby.


With Love,
Idea Factory


Dear Idea Factory,


Thank you! My man and I welcome ALL suggestions from my loyal PLM readers! In fact, I urge you to email or comment your suggestions throughout this pregnancy (which will end around August 25th, 2010).


We have considered the tradition naming-the-baby-after-our grandparents and the old Junior route, but something a little spicier would be nice too. Here are some names still on the table:


Optimus Prime


Patrick Swayze


Peter Frances the Seventh


Led Zepplin




I’d love to hear your comments and or suggestions.


Poor Lucky Me

View From The Front – Tuesday April 27th


Because I am extremely grown-up, I went on a business trip to New York City. Because I am extremely important, I flew first class.


Before I boarded the plane I gulped down some airport food and beverages to avoid what I thought would be a typical dire airplane meal situation. After all, in coach we peons are forced to buy “snack packs” which guarantee at least three days of constipation. It turns out that first class is a pregnant lady’s dream come true. The flight attendants are warm and attentive. The food and beverages flow like wine at a Bacchanal Festival. And best of all- the bathroom is no further than 12 feet from your chair, and never has a line.


When I first sat down I was timid and unsure of myself. I meekly asked for a class of water, and when offered breakfast I stared at the flight attendant blankly. She listed a few things I could order, so I politely asked for a bagel and strawberries. But once my meal came, I turned into someone else.


Just a bagel? No, please also bring me the yogurt and cereal and a glass of orange juice and ANOTHER glass of orange juice and now I’m talking like I’m drunk of orange juice! Now please hold my tray up so I can blob out of my seat and go to the bathroom for the 10th time! Mwahahaha hot towel? Yes! More water! Yes! I felt like King Henry the 8th minus the leg sores and regicide.


The trip home was just as delightful. I don’t see how I can even go back to sitting in coach. This must be how they get you.

LIST- Monday April 26th

1582_310 Phrases or Words That Should be Purged From the English Language:


1. Wheeeeeew ( As in Wheeeeew we won a reality TV-inspired Game show!)


2. Literally (There is literally no reason to use this word)


3. I love that shirt/coat/bag/etc. Where did you get it? (Why do you need to know? Are you going to buy the same thing? Because it sounds like you just want to be judgmental about where I shop. Besides, the answer is probably Marshall’s)


4. The Black Eyed Peas are awesome!


5. I’ll Be Back or Hasta La Vista Baby (As uttered by Arnold Schwarzenegger or anyone doing a Schwarzenegger impression)


6. Awesomeness (I thought it was awesome too- until all kinds of turdy people started using it. Now it’s unawesome)


7. The Taco Bell diet.


8. Going Green (especially if you are a gas station, Barney’s of New York, or any fast food restaurant)


9. I could really go for a massage


10. Skim, Non-fat, extra-hot, no foam, dry, etc etc etc.

Brilliant Mind Poses Important Question- Friday April 23rd

Iceland Volcano

Dear PLM:


I was fascinated by the recent volcanic ash cloud that skulked over Europe and beyond. Part of me was very jealous of the business travelers who were “trapped” in London on company expense accounts. I was also saddened by the stories of students and families who were stuck on their own dime while hotels jacked up rates. Shame on them.


Here is my question: If sophisticated jetliners weren’t able to fly, what are the implications of an ash cloud from a military perspective? I’m not sure if you have a jet pilot’s license, but I am curious.


If jet fighters can’t fly in an ash cloud, we should consider developing an ash cloud defense system. Simply create an ash cloud (maybe from Whitney Houston’s career) and sprinkle it over our enemy. They would be trapped in airports, forced to sleep on cots, and gouged by food and drink prices.


Am I brilliant or crazy?


Former JROTC (Junior Reserve Officer’s Training Corps)


Dear Former JROTC,


While I do not have a jet pilot’s license, I do have a nose for good ideas and what you have is a damn good idea. Unfortunately I don’t know anyone of any actual importance who can help implement your incredible idea. Still, I urge you to make it your patriotic mission to take this to the top.


I’m talking about Jack Bauer top. I know what you’re thinking: ‘Isn’t this a little non-violent for Jack Bauer’s taste? And isn’t he about to get his ass cancelled anyway?” And yes, both things are true, but I just know that he’s the man who can reach across party lines and put an excellent idea into action. Well it’d be more like crushing party lines, or shooting party lines in the knee caps to make them talk. But you get the idea.


Of course we have to be concerned about setting off an arms race- or a weaponized ash cloud race. We build an ash cloud, China builds a more sophisticated ash cloud, Rush builds an aggressive ash cloud but can’t fund the upkeep…you get the idea. We’ll leave that to the Army to figure out though.


Poor Lucky Me

The Truth About Garrett’s Popcorn – Thursday April 22nd


Dear Poor Lucky Me,


What is really going on inside a Garrett’s popcorn? It looks from the outside like it’s a popcorn shop, but that can’t be.


Every day, all day, a line forms at that place going around the block. It’s mostly tourists. Sometimes I think if I were ever going to really try it out I would have to dress like a tourist to even be allowed in that lines.


Can you tell me what’s happening? It’s not just popcorn…right?


With Affection,
Assuming Its Drugs


Dear Assuming,


Garrett’s popcorn is not drugs in the traditional sense of the word. It’s modern drugs- drugs for the 2010′s! It’s popcorn used as a vehicle for butter cheese and sugar.


The place is packed with tourists because vacation is the best time to eat like an insane person. You might have bad eating habits at home too, but most people have a sense of shame about it. On vacation you can eat fried dough right out in the open. That’s the whole reason people go to Disney land and Six Flags. It’s not the roller coasters, it’s the corn dogs.


Honestly, I used to eat Garrett’s about twice a month. It was when I was really broke all the time and needed to eat food with a high caloric content just in case I had to spend the rest of my money on parking tickets. You can eat a small bag of that stuff and be ok for about 48 hours. So it’s pretty useful. But that was back when really aggressive people worked there. It was like The Wiener Circle does snack food, and it keep all the tourists away. Now that all the workers have to be nice and the line looks like the line outside the Louvre it’s not worth it.


Poor Lucky Me

Clamtastic – Wednesday April 21st

Dear Poor Lucky Me,
I think I’m in a bit of trouble. I called in sick today and told my boss that I had eaten bad clams. He replied “you should quit eating clams, this is the third bad batch you’ve had in a year”. Needless to say I almost crapped my pants. I just hadn’t been paying close attention to my excuses, and clearly he’s on to me now.


What do I do? We are days from my yearly review and I do respect my boss. I just don’t like going to work all the time. Please answer fast, I’m sort of freaking out.


-Name Withheld


Dear Name Withheld,
Go into work tomorrow and tell your boss the following:


I’m sorry I lied but it’s only because I picked up a stomach virus when I was in college and went to Eastern Europe with my parents. The virus usually lies dormant in my intestines but occasionally gets stirred up and wreaks havoc on my entire system. (Look down at the floor when you say “system”).


Explain that you didn’t tell him before because people at your other jobs got all freaked out about it even though the virus is decidedly not contagious. Try to remember to wring your hands and actually feel the embarrassment.


If your boss has any social skills whatsoever, he will mumble an apology while slowly walking backwards and holding his hands up in a “don’t come near me” gesture. This method is a bit of a gamble because some people will ask a lot of follow up questions. Do not get defensive, or make up detailed answers. Instead act like you are dying of shame and want to melt into the floor. Excuse yourself quickly and awkwardly.


Most importantly, take this opportunity to learn your lesson. Yes, write your excuses in your home calendar. And do not lie if you can’t handle the consequences. It’s a better idea to just go into work and hide in the stock room or the bathroom until the day is over. Spend the day calling co-workers and asking questions that elicit long responses. Calling in fake-sick is so 1995.


Poor Lucky Me

My Metamorphisis – Tuesday April 20th

When I first started to look pregnant I joked that I was becoming Gregor the Beetle from Kafka’s Metamorphosis. I felt awkward and had a weird appetite and didn’t want to go out in public. Then I stopped making the joke because my brother said no one reads Kafka. I don’t know if that’s true- I had it assigned in high school- but nothing’s worse than having to explain a literary joke and look like a nerd/snob so…


Then I realized what’s really happening: I’m turning into a giant baby. I’ve got chubby arms and legs and have to pee and poo at inconvenient times. I’m hungry every two hours. I want to sleep or be held all the time. I can’t get out of bed on my own. I cry a lot. I fluctuate between being fussy and giggly.


I think this is nature’s way of building empathy in me for the creature I’m about to be in charge of. When this little baby comes out of my giant baby body I think I’ll take one look at him and say, “I know what you’re going through my friend.”

LIST – Monday April 19


10 Legitimate Reasons Why I’m Afraid Of Going On A Cruise


1. The Flesh Eating Virus. One person gets that and the whole shit is screwed. Same goes for the Bubonic Plague.


2. Buffet meals. I like the occasional buffet but you know they use the same food over and over again and let me assure you that those so called sneeze guards aren’t keeping everything safe.


3. The very real possibility of meeting a couple who we think we like the first night, then finding out the second night they’re annoying, then having to dodge them for eight more nights. I just don’t have that kind of strength.


4. When you flush the toilet…where does it go? I don’t think it goes into the ocean, I think it stays on the boat with you.


5. Eventually someone is going to force me to participate in a group activity.


6. Those cruise ships seem really high. If you fall off the side, are you doomed? I’m a strong swimmer but I think that fall might be a problem.


7. Is someone making sure the captain isn’t getting drunk and ramming us into stuff? Like mountains or other ships?


8. Once you’re in the middle of nowhere isn’t the chance of getting hijacked and forced into white slavery pretty good? I mean if I were a pirate/white slave proprietor I would go straight for the cruise ships and I can’t be the first person to think of that.


9. What if a seagull gets into the little window in my cabin and it flies around wreaking havoc and contaminating the food and fresh water I had been hoarding?


10. What if I can’t afford a cabin with a little window and sleep the entire trip because I never see any natural morning light to wake me up? That happened to me my senior year in college.

Grownupism – Friday April 16th


I got ma’am’ed twice today. I know it has happened before, but when your belly is so big you don’t trust yourself shaving your legs and the only shoes that fit are Converse sneakers you get a little sensitive. I got one from the maintenance man in my parking garage (I swear he used to Miss me) and one at Starbucks (usually I get a Love from the Irish girl but she wasn’t there today).


When I tried to complain about it later my work associates rolled their eyes and pointed to my wedding band (a substitute, the original doesn’t fit) and the baby in my belly. “Yes” I insisted “but what about my unlined forehead and impish expression?” They rolled their eyes again.


What a cruel foul fate that we don’t care about being perceived as youthful until we’re not. Just a few months ago, I was complaining about not being taken seriously at my job because I look too young. If I believed in God or Karma or fate I would feel uncomfortable about that conversation now, post-ma’am. I think I was bullshitting myself too, because I work in advertising. In this industry youthfulness is a sign of cool, and cool is more valuable than experience and respect. I just happen to be in the ad niche where looking too young is a more obvious sign that you probably don’t know what you’re talking about, which in my case is often true. During my short stint on the creative side, Stupid Kid was King. That’s why I’m still perversely drawn to novelty tee-shirts and blogs.


Anyway, I just had to vent. As I write this I’m realizing that ma’am isn’t the worst thing that could happen to me- personally or professionally. At least now when I get a parking ticket I can pay for it myself instead of calling my Dad-or my brother when my Dad was out of town. I earned my ma’am. I had a bunch of annoying jobs and boyfriends and destructive habits and now I’m a well-functioning contributing member of society. I donate to NPR, I can feed myself, and if a ma’am comes along with that I can live with it.

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