Immature at Heart

I’ve decided the key to buying good baby gifts is seriously considering what you’d like to have if you were that age again and then just going for it. This is why I give Jumperoos and “Carry me up the mountain, Mommy” backpacks.

I picked out my signif’s nephew’s 2nd birthday present today and opted for what can only be described as a starter Whac-a-Mole.

It’s a toy with a mallet. How can that not totally rule?

What Would Jacki Watch?

My old friend Rob directed this film, and I didn’t think it was coming to DC because it seems we never get cool docs here. But I just found a screening and am totally excited to go see it. Rumor has it the film is superfunny and really great. I’ll let you know. In the meantime, Rob is a solid guy and at the very least, go see it to support a truly terrific human being.

Preview here:


Most joggers I know hate cyclists. Come to think of it, so do most drivers I know.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for choosing the pedal over the pump to save the planet. And I’ll always encourage exercise because too many people don’t get enough of it to begin with.

But many bike riders around here have this sense of uber-entitlement that drives most of us batty. What part of the “Walk Your Bike” sign is confusing? When did stoplights stop applying to you?

Don’t bark at me when I fail to yield to your refusal to literally get off your ass. And it’s not the car’s fault you insist on the perpetual right of way. It doesn’t make you right.

I was all ready to shoulder blame today when a cyclist came up on my left, and I didn’t hear him over my headphones. My bad. Maybe they were a touch too loud. Then I remembered I was in a no ride zone, and I ditched apologies for defiance.

Granted, he was well past me by the time I composed my rant, but his back sure got an earful. And yes, it did sound a lot like this.


My loved ones know by now I am a lousy gift-giver.

Oh, you get it. And when you get it, you get it good. But there’s a standard delivery delay between event and receipt. And it’s more 4-6 months than 4-6 weeks.

It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I care too much. I search for the perfect gift, and it invariably takes too long.

Anyway, I’ve started this year’s holiday hunt online just to get a sense of what I might buy. And while there’s no one on my list who needs these (or the USB pole dancer shown above for that matter), it’s fun to share the silly stuff I come across along the way.

Speaking of ridiculous and holidays, my signif and I bought what we thought was a wreath this weekend. Turned out to be a garland. So we improvised:

Happy Monday.

Confessions of a Stripper

I’ll admit it. I’ve been stripping for more than 10 days now. 11 to be exact.

Actually, it was my Mom who suggested I give it a try.

I started slowly. The first 4 days were less traumatic than expected. Then I upped the ante with a fresh new routine, and it’s paid off.

Today’s my last day. In a strange way, I think I’ll miss it. But I got what I wanted out of the experience, and it’s time to move on.