Top 5 Groupons

Groupon has long been my source of entertainment to kill time. I don’t know how it happened, but if I’m waiting in line or talking to someone boring, I’ll just start scrolling through the app on my phone to see what deals are available in my area. It turns out the answer to that is “a lot,” and also “ridiculous-style deals.” I don’t know what has happened as of late, but the offers seem to be getting more and more absurd. Below are my top 5 most confusing/disturbing Groupon deals available at the moment. Hurry, these babies go fast!

1. The Package Tour: New Kidz on the Block, Boyz II Men (or just Men), and 98 Degrees will be playing Barclays Center in June. No one cares, so they are offering cheap tickets for people who think they recognize one to two of the 12 performers. Those people will be wrong (I too am guilty of mixing up 98 Degrees and LFO). But the tickets are only $53.13 (really, no one could eat the tax cost?) when you purchase the Groupon, so who cares? Grab a long island iced tea and watch some 40 year old men perform outdated dance moves while wearing almost the same outfit (with slight variations in sleeve length, collar style, and scarf volume, of course).

2. Helicopter Lessons: I’ll buy a lot of things discounted. Food, clothing, pets, etc. But I pay full price for my helicopter lessons. This makes me nervous.

3. Three-pack of Banana Bunkers: How many times have you thought, “I love bananas, but grrrrr, they always smoosh in the bottom of my bag!”? Twice, probably. Well, someone has invented phallic containers to keep your bananas intact. Honestly, if you think you’re going to walk into the office and start swinging one of those things around, you better be ready to take a trip over to the HR department.

4. Colon Irrigation: Gross. My favorite part about this deal, aside from the fact that it is exactly 61% off, is that the photo they chose to represent the treatment is of  a woman’s bare stomach, complete with belly ring. I’m guessing this shot was taken post-irrigation?

5. “The Quantum Eye” magic show: The guy in this ad is one of the creepiest people I’ve ever seen. At first glance I thought he was Paula Poundstone. I don’t want to see this man do magic or “mental” tricks, even if the tickets are just $23. Also, that’s more than I would spend to see a well-reviewed play. The worst part about this deal is that it is recommended for “Date Night” and “Girls Night Out.” If a guy ever suggests you go see a psychological magic show, you run. And fast.

There are plenty of other awful things offered on Groupon. I’ve come across offers for boudoir photo shoots, beef jerky, and O.B. tampons. There are more liposuction offers than I care to discuss, and, my god, the options for pets! But I love Groupon, nonetheless. Because every once in a while you scoop up a deal for a nice B&B or delicious dinner for two, and it makes you completely forget about that botched spray tan and detrimental kickboxing classes you purchased the month before.

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May 9, 2013

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Babies Gone Wild

My friend Jen directed me to a very interesting New York Times article today, and I’d like to share it with you. In the piece, entitled Baby’s Latest: Going Diaperless, we meet a few parents who are totally over diapers. They practice elimination communication, which is a diaper-free method of child-rearing, and also maybe one day a dating show on MTV2. The idea behind E.C. is that diapers destroy the earth and your baby’s butt. Cloth diapers are messy and hard to clean. Your baby is smart and can learn to hold his poop. Let your baby poop in a bowl.

At first I was like, “ew,” then I was like, “well…” then I thought, “come on!” and then I checked my Facebook.

The first thing that caught my attention was the leading image of an adorable baby, Loren, being held above a toilet at a store. I mean, really cute baby, and great name. And oh look, there’s a shot of him with his dad, down below. He’s butt-out in an eco-friendly baby store, like a boss. But then I thought, how will Loren feel when he’s a teenager and all of his friends learn that a baby picture of him pooping was published in The New York Times? Probably not great, that’s how. He’ll be at a movie, trying to yawn his arm around a girl, and she’ll say, “Oh no you don’t. I’m not getting pooped on.” Her comment won’t even make sense. It’ll be so far from a “good one,” and yet still…

Against my lifelong instinct to only look at the pictures, I read the article. Apparently, there are “‘diaper-free meetups’ where parents exchange tips like how to get a baby to urinate on the street between parked cars.” So, that’s where all those girls in the East Village learned it.

The article goes on to describe how the mothers train the babies in Pavlov’s dog fashion, so that eventually Mom can make a sound, and baby does his thang “over the toilet or the sink.” Oooooooook. Not over the sink, please. That’s where I rinse my lettuce.

Luckily, the mothers “usually put them [diapers] on at night and for trips to stores, restaurants and the like…” Phew.  ”…though not necessarily for naps or going to the park, where it is easier to go on the ground or behind a tree.” Well, well, well. Looks like I’ve been damning the neighbor’s dachsund, when really Loren is to blame! There’s got to be a fine for letting your baby poop in the park. A spokeswoman from the NYC health department agrees that this is super gross.

Next, a woman claims that “at three weeks, her daughter could hold her bowel movements until she was put over the bowl.” That is either a) really impressive, b) terrifying, because that’s certainly a demon-baby, or c) going to cause a lot of trouble around breakfast time in a few years (“Bella, not on my Corn Flakes!”). Maybe all three.

A woman goes on to say that she has seen babies pooping in sinks at parties, which sounds like a really adorable version of Animal House. Also, I’m glad I’m not friends with those people. I’d leave all the parties.

The closing line of the piece, made by an avid E.C. practitioner, really sums it all up: “I don’t think you can walk down Fifth Avenue and just let your baby poop on the sidewalk.” No. You definitely cannot do that.

Perhaps E.C. is the way to go. If you have the time and energy to make faces and sounds at your baby until he learns to defecate in a bowl, then more power to you. But even just a few  months is a long time to clean up baby poop, and at some point your kid might realize what’s going on and just start messing with you.

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April 23, 2013

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Home Alone

As some of you might know, I’m pretty strong (I can do 10 push-ups, regular-style). Last weekend, my super-human strength got the best of me, when I pushed my bedroom window down with a little too much gusto, sending a crack down the side. I was like :\

Today my super, Luis, came by at 9:15 am to replace the cracked window. He made it sound like the whole ordeal would take about 2 maybe 3 hours, because the window shop was “right there” (he pointed out the window, and I live on the 6th floor, so he may have been pointing across the street or to Queens). Fine, I thought. I’ll kick up my heels and do a little work from home. And that’s just what I did.

Those of you who work 9-5 jobs (or 10-6, as it were) will probably agree that it is very strange to be at home in the middle of the day. I can’t say that I’ve ever spent a non-holiday weekday at home without being sick. I was majorly confused. Should I shower? Do I have to put on daytime clothes? When can I eat again? I didn’t make any sudden moves, but eventually, life did begin.

I had never been in my current apartment during a weekday at all, because I haven’t gotten sick in nearly a year (I’m going to get bronchitis tomorrow), so there were lots of things I discovered about my neighborhood. First, I learned that there is a school nearby, because there was a crazy fantastic marching band playing throughout the day. I was almost glad that my entire window had been removed; all the easier to hear my little Nick Cannon’s. I also went for a run, and it turns out Crown Heights is quite the lively neighborhood during sunshine hours. My heart almost exploded when I jogged past a group of teachers walking about 20 2-year-olds in private school uniforms. They were terrifyingly cute. I don’t think they were the same students who were playing the drum line music, but, someone, make that movie regardless.

I also learned that the more I eat, the more I need to eat. After my post-run shower, I figured it was time for lunch (it was much too early for lunch), and so I fixed myself a turkey sammie and banana. It was a fine lunch, but 20 minutes later, I found myself rummaging through the refrigerator and cabinets. I had a handful of chocolate chips, half a corn tortilla, some mixed nuts, and a bit of oatmeal cookie. I figured I’d gone for a run, so it was cool.

I became nervous around 1pm, when I realized I hadn’t heard from Luis. I texted him, then I called him, then I stared at my phone for 10 minutes. Why was he ignoring me? I’m fun, right? Did I come on too strong? I was becoming frantic. It’s good that we’re not Facebook friends. Eventually, Luis called me back. They guy hadn’t finished yet, but he’d be done soon. I was outraged. What does “soon” mean? It’s almost 2! I told Luis I could leave no later than 3pm. He promised me he’d be back by then.

After reading some book, I looked down at my timepiece aka iPhone. 2:30. I called Luis. The guy was done. He was going to get the window pane now. I did a bit more reading and some light Facebooking, before noticing that it was 3:10. Oh, was I boiling! I called Luis. He was out of breath. “I’m coming,” he panted. “I got it.” Poor Luis.

Finally, Luis and his sidekick, Guy Who is Always With Luis, rang my doorbell. Apparently the window guy got 9 windows to fix today. Talk about a window pain (wink wink)! Anyway, these fellows did a little click, and a little snap, and the next thing I knew everything was as good as new.

I want to say that it was a long and trying process, but I honestly just chilled at home and waited for people to email me all day, which was pretty great. There were a few things I couldn’t do from home, which drove me insane, but all in all, I’d say that things went well. I’m totally thrown off right now, because I feel as though I have been in this house much too long, but tomorrow might be Saturday, right? So who cares?

 

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April 10, 2013

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Splish Splash

If there’s one thing I don’t want to see on broadcast television, it’s D-list celebrities jumping off a diving board. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Splash! is. I’m tired of watching almost-famous people do anything, and I certainly don’t want to see them in bathing suits, jumping off of a board week after week. I personally have never jumped off of a diving board (it stems from a traumatic experience at a public pool as a wee babe…it’s a long story), but I imagine that it is equal parts scary and difficult. So, kudos to these freaks for giving it a whirl. But these TV execs really need to pull it together. It sounds lame and boring, and the lineup is, well…

Kareem Abdul Jabar: He’s a legendary sport-man, so not a bad choice. But he’s so tall, I bet he dives in, and his feet are in the air while his fingertips graze the bottom of the pool. That’s dangerous.

Louie Anderson: At first I thought this was Honey Boo Boo’s mom, but no. This is Louie Anderson, whom you might know from that episode of The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, and his stand-up comedy special Big Baby Booomer, which is rumored to have aired on CMT.

Drake Bell: This fellow starred in the Nickelodeon show Josh & Drake, where he played the character in the wheelchair. Wait, no that was Degrassi. And that’s the wrong Drake. Nevermind, I have no idea who this is.

Chuy Bravo: Chuy is the very small Latino from Chelsea Lately. He has written a book called Little Nuggets of Wisdom. Poor Chuy.

Brandi Chastain: She won a soccer game and ripped off her shirt.

Rory Bushfield: The show’s website describes Rory as and “extreme skiing air-hound,” so I guess he’s part dog part bird? I imagine that this creature is not very good at swimming or diving.

Nicole Eggert: At age 5, Nicole was Miss Universe in the “Petite” division. I don’t know why that even exists, and her participation makes me distrustful of her. But then she was on Charles in Charge (cool), but then Baywatch (wack), then Boy Meets World (ow!), then she made a Funny or Die video making fun of her weight gain (equal parts yow! and huh?…because she probably weighs about 140 lbs.).

Keisha Knight Pulliam aka My Girl (this is what I always call the only black woman on any show): You probably know KeKe best as Rudy, the adorable youngest daughter from The Cosby Show. You might also know her from this Chingy video or from Beauty Shop. You do not know her from Madea Goes to Jail. She was in it, but I can only hope that you did not watch it. You still my girl though, Keisha.

Ndamukong Suh: This guy’s name is soooo hard to say. His parents are from Jamaica and Cameroon. He is the same age as me but six times my size, so he’s probably not great at diving.

Katherine Webb: Katherine was in some beauty contests. She’s pretty. That’s all.

Kendra Wilkinson: Don’t pretend like you are too high-brow to know who this is. Kendra was one of the Girls’s Next Door on E! She lived with Hef from about the time she could drive a car until the time she could rent a car. Then she married an NFL player and they had a reality show, where the theme song lyrics were “Go Kendra! Go Kendra!” She’s a mom.

So, there’s your gang of winners. I haven’t seen a single episode, and I don’t think I ever will, especially now that Kendra is off…according to the web, she got nervous at the end of the board and quit in a teary fit. She apologized to fans via Twitter, as you do. If you want to watch the video over and over again, you can do so here. So go ahead, and do that.

In conclusion, this show looks like the worst. I think that reality shows should include fewer swim suits and unimportant (yet tan) people and more puppies and free giveaways to viewers at home. But obviously I’m wrong, because they keep on making them, and people keep on watching.

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April 3, 2013

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E-Date

Meeting dudes, tweeting, buying ballet flats. It’s 2013!

Let’s face it, none of us have time to interact with other humans face-to-face anymore, so I’m always surprised when people get bent out of shape about online dating. We buy our clothes online, we talk to our friends online, we learn new hairstyles online, so why not meet new and maybe scary people online? I dabbled myself back in the day, and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s all the fun of going out to a bar minus the crowds, and drunk people, and putting on real pants, and pretending like you care, plus your own private bowl of popcorn. Online dating is the most fun!

Last night, my friend told me of a few of the very specific dating sites she’d heard of. After all, the whole point of online dating is to meet someone you’re actually compatible with and might want to spend a significant, even binding, amount of time with. So why beat around the bush? There are some sites that are pretty general: Match.com (for people who’re looking to get hitched), OKCupid (for fun, young flooszies), eHarmony (for people who like being in commercials). Then there are the more specific sites, because if you know you want a Jew, might as well find yourself a Jew! JDate (for the aforementioned group), Christian Mingle (duh), Our Time (for the over 50 crowd, hey!),  Amigos (for amigos), BlackPeopleMeet (for black people who like titles that are way too literal), AshleyMadison (for people who want to have affairs, which is apparently an okay thing to do, and they have commercials, what?) and so on, and so forth. Little did I know how specific things actually get.

Stachepassions.com is a dating site for guys with mustaches and girls who like ‘em. I took a quick look at the website, and as you might imagine, the selection is top notch. Lots of creepy men and handsome women looking to have a good time. There  is also LoveMeLoveMyPets.com for singles who freaking love domesticated animals.

There is a site called NerdPassion, for a group of people I never need to meet. DiaperMates is allegedly a forum where people interested in wearing adult-sized diapers or makeshift diapers can search for, share photos with and meet people who have similar interests. So that’s pretty normal.  The Atlasphere is for people who love the Ayn Rand book Atlas Shrugged (so like, everybody, right?). Darwin Dating is strictly for super hot people (it’s where Orlando Bloom and Miranda Kerr met).  Farmersonly.com is for people who will only eat delicious breakfasts for the rest of their lives. TallFriends is for super tall-ies, who probably want to be more than just friends, if you know what I’m sayin’ (high five)!

Chances are, if you are picky, there is a dating site out there for you. Because you might as well weed out the riff-raff and find the lesbian, vegetarian, Apple employee who’s right for you (not a real site…as far as I know).

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March 28, 2013

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“Lemme in now”

#1

The other night, I met a few friends at Vynl for dinner. For those unfamiliar with the place, Vynl is a music-themed restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen. The first time I went, I discovered it’s claim to fame are the restrooms (this was in the summer of 2008, with my Ailey pals). There are four one-stallers, each with a different musician theme: Elvis, Dolly Parton, Cher, and Nelly. During my 2008 visit, I found myself in the Dolly Parton room. I had no idea what was happening. It was quite a treat. This time, I thought I’d try out a different stall. Obviously, St. Louis shawty that I am, I went to Nellyville.

We had a good time, Nelly and I. Ride Wit Me was pumping through the speakers (the first time…the pre-train trip included a track I didn’t know, but I danced anyway), there was a tiny Nelly doll in a glass case, along with a tile mosaic of Nelly’s face. It was definitely the most fun bathroom I’ve ever been in. But later, I got to thinking, how in the world did they decide to devote their only rap restroom to Nelly?

Now, I love Nelly. He’s definitely the best rapper to come out of STL (sorry Chingy and J-Kwon), but New York City is the birthplace of hip-hop. And even if they opened the floor up to the world of rap, there are countless rappers they could have chosen from. I mean, their “white male” choice was Elvis, The King, not Rob Thomas or the main guy from Creed. And their two white ladies, while not necessarily the dames I’d have chosen, are legends in their own right. This restaurant must have opened between 2000–2006, when Nelly was killing the game. Honestly, I think we should all feel relieved that they went with him and not another popular rapper of his era. A Bubba Sparxx restroom might have brought an end to the restaurant.

Another reason they probably chose Nelly is that he is not very controversial. He’s never killed anyone, or hosted dog fights, or given drugs to a baby, or anything. There was that whole “tip drill” moment, but I’m over it, just like you are. He even has a nonprofit organization, 4Sho4Kids. I’m not sure what the foundation tackles, but I’m guessing they teach kids how to fit in numbers where you never thought they’d go!

In any case, I’m glad that of all the rappers they had to choose from, they went with my dawg Nelly. And you know, I’m not even that bothered that they went with a now-forgotten rapper instead of a true legend of black American music (like James Brown, or Stevie Wonder, or Aretha Franklin, or Whitney Houston, or Prince, or Michael Jackson, or Sam Cooke, or Etta James, or Ray Charles, or Tina Turner,or Patti Labelle, or Marvin Gaye).  It’s cool Because, as my friend Emily pointed out, the decision was likely made based on what dolls were available at the pop music doll store. Luckily, my dirty Nelly was still in stock. And now, generations of New Yorkers who might never have heard “Air Force Ones” will, and that’s what makes this America.

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March 21, 2013

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Old Dog

It has now been almost four years since I graduated college, one of the scariest facts of all. I guess I’m doing alright, what with my hugely successful blog that has wordpress in the url, and all. But there’s something about higher learning that just can’t be replaced. So, instead of going back to school, which requires money and direction, I’ve taken it upon myself to educate myself the modern way…online.

My first foray into online classes started last fall, when I purchased a Living Social deal for a 6-month online language class (I have about four hours left before it goes away). I decided that my 6-month language would be Italian (oviamente!), since I’d studied it in college, even spending a semester in the great land of pasta and leather goods. Much to my surprise, I remembered much of what I’d learned so many years ago. I even got a 100% on my first mini-quiz!

The one drawback to the class, though, was the “repeat-after-me” section. That’s not what it’s called, that’s what it is. The little Italian man in my computer says “no ho niente da dichiare,” and I repeat after him, then listen to my voice, which (luckily) has been recorded. It’s true. I have nothing to declare. I’m usually fine, if a little embarrassed by the sound of my own voice and the fact that my roommates, during the peak of my Italian studies, heard me repeating “dove si trova il bancomat piu vicino?” (where is the closest ATM located?) through my bedroom door. The computer records your voice, and you get to hear how good you sound compared to actual Italian people. It’s always REALLY good. But sometimes, those words are just too complicated for my Midwestern tongue. I was completing my online lessons fairly regularly, two or three times a week, until about two months ago, when I came across a word that tripped me up majorily: “i bagagli.” Luggage. I recorded myself slurring “i bagagli” about four times, before giving up. (The last recording was just me laughing into the computer microphone.) The idea is to kind of blend the soft G with the L, but that wasn’t happening here. I just sounded drunk and confused. And I was only confused. End of Italian classes.

Then I discovered Coursera, a wonderful program that partners with universities to offer free online classes. I elected to take “Women and the Civil Rights Movement” taught by a professor at the University of Maryland. I figured I had better take this class, being black and a woman, and it has turned out to be very informative (there’s a lot of stuff I didn’t know about me). The professor is particularly lovely, teaching classes while standing in front of bookshelves, donning handsome neck scarves, or shooting close-ups in her office…always a favorite. She sometimes trips over her words, which is charming. Silly Prof!

The problem with the class, though, is that sometimes I can’t get through a 15 minute lecture without exploring the rest of what my computer has to offer. Halfway through my third short lecture last week, I found myself browsing espadrilles on Gilt. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It was like I blacked out. Just sandals, everywhere. Pull yourself together, I thought to myself, clicking on the Coursera tab. Focus. But what I’d really wanted to check out on Gilt were the dresses. Had I seen 90% off somewhere on that page? The good news is that I did not buy anything that evening. The bad news is that my lack of attention resulted in my getting a 16/20 on my first quiz. Womp werrrrmp. Online shopping is not the opposite of what “Women and the Civil Rights Movement” is all about, but it’s definitely NOT what “Women and the Civil Rights Movement” is all about. Lesson learned. (The next day, I tried to simultaneously watch Girls while listening to my lecture, which also didn’t work, but I feel like Ida B. Wells and everyone would have been more okay with that than the Gilt thing.)

They say that you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and they may be right. I’m not even that old, but I’m like let’s stick to the old tricks. Sometimes, though old dogs need intellectual stimulation, so even if you are an old dog who absorbs very little of the tricks you’re trying to let the internet educational system teach you, at least you can say you tried. Either that or you’ll find some new footwear.

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March 5, 2013

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