Happy ‘Oprah’s Favorite Things’ Tuesday

Home to such iconic milestones as New Britney Music Tuesday, today we celebrate the Q4 release of Oprah Winfrey’s Favorite Things. Twenty of the best and brightest come to the forefront on this most magical of days. Seven dollar cupcakes, books about science, fancy baking things and refrigerators with hdtvs built-in. But it was these pants that brought me to blonde memoirs to write. See even on my most tiresome day, a day which took thanklessly and left me a shallow shell of the girl I was, would I ever approve of this outfit. But Oprah likes them, so I’m sure sales will be ridiculous-like. (Disclaimer: In no way is the posting of these pants or mention of seven dollar cupcakes an endorsement by the staff of blondmemoirs.com).

Happy Oprah’s Favorite Things Tuesday, and for the entire list, you can find it here
www.oprahs-favorite-things.com/

Code Pink

It what appeared to be a very real problem between my very good friend and myself to distinguish what she termed "real emergencies" and those that threatened my social life, I devised a system mirroring that adopted by national security organizations. For example, "there is a guy at this bar that I hooked up with at a wedding and now I'm freaking out" is not the same sort of emergency as "I'm at the top of a canyon and my car has overheated."

Something along the lines of "We're not on the list of this club," not an emergency, I get that now.
Hence the new system: CODE PINK.

If things have escalated and say my hair lady quit on me on the day of my appointment and we also can't get on the list for this club: CODE FUSCHIA. I repeat, CODE FUSCHIA. From that point, there is only one way to go. You must go dark, undercover. It's an emergency which you may never return from. Say goodbye to all you've known. We have a CODE BRUNETTE.
CODE BRUNETTE.
To be used only in the most serious crisis'.

Our new system has eliminated any misunderstandings in what she deems "real emergencies." But I think she took off-ense to whole brunette jab.

Oh well, can't please em all.

Thinking Thoughts

We had gotten all our clothes off, and all I could think to myself was, I think I'd rather be making a sandwich. - Rebecca Wareham

Chintan

Chintan is my co-worker. He is convinced that if I talk about him on my bl0g, I will make him famous. It certainly is worth a shot, right? You would like Chintan. I like Chintan, and not just because he shows me how to use JIRA and fixes computer shit I break at my job. He also says some pretty funny stuff. You should be friends with him. Because when he does get famous, you can say, I knew Chintan back in the blondememoirs days.

Also I noticed on my google analytics this morning, I have a new unique from Massachusettes - so shout out to the big MA. What what. How's it be? Cold, I'm sure. Look at me, using google analytics. It's like it's completely untrue what my exboyfriends have said about me being more stupid than them.

Ok, I'm out of here. But you should stay. And not simply to drive up my analytics score. You should also teach yourself something new, compliments of Wikihow.


How to Walk on the Ceiling

Get a mirror, preferably about 20cm x 20cm or larger with as little frame as possible.
Hold the mirror's flat, reflective side facing upwards, in front of your face, level with the end of your nose or there abouts.
Look down into the mirror. It should appear that you are standing on the ceiling!

Happy November the 7th

Happy November the 7th. It's only happening one time this year, so you should celebrate it by doing something equally awesome as yourself. In my case, that means going to Jerry's Deli for dinner with friends. In your case, that could mean drinking a piping hot glass of apple cider. I am sorry there was no new content on blondememoirs.com. Duty calls, if you will. And by duty I mean my annoying job. So instead I looked up for you on a very special site called wikihow. I urge you not to go there. It's very addicting. Even more so than wikipedia. It's like filled with knowledge. So instead I just went to wiki how and researched a topic that I thought you would find interesting. Please read it thoroughly, and feel free to not comment, as that is not an option on blondememoirs. Thank you again for your loyal viewership and happy november the 7th.

How to Impress Your Friends on Your Bicycle

Ride No Handed: This is a pretty easy trick to master.
When you are starting out, find a stretch of flat road without any cars.
Slowly lift your hands a few inches above the handlebars. If this is too hard, you can first lift one hand, and then the other hand. Once you do this often, you will master it easily.
Note that some bike frames are not built with a relaxed enough geometry for this to be possible. Riding no-hands is more dangerous on these bikes, as their ability to right themselves and ride straight is reduced, or absent. This is true more with older or more expensive road bikes. Cruisers and mountain bikes are good candidates for this trick.
Ride No Handed (another way).
Start coasting, and stand on your pedals.
Lean forward until your thighs are resting on the handlebars.
Stand up straight and lean back, keeping your body behind the front axle. It feels sketchy, but you can coast like this and even turn. Don't use your front brake too hard or you'll faceplant. With long enough legs and a small enough frame, you can even pedal in this position, but if not you may hit the stem. Watch out for the family jewels when attempting this!
Do a Wheelie.
Think about jumping high in the air.
Do this while holding on to your handlebars, and tilt back a little. Some people can do this for a second, while others can go down a whole street on their back wheel.
Do an Endo.
When you're going to stop completely, and want a bit of a flourish, use only the front brake, gradually adding more and more pressure (too much and you faceplant, don't lock it up at once).
Lean forward and brake on the front. Soon you'll be balanced on your front wheel.
Stand on your bike.(Very dangerous!)
Get decent speed on a flat or slightly sloping road.
Then put one foot on the seat while coming up.
Take the other foot and put it on the seat.
Gradually loosen your grip on the handlebars.
Stand or crouch for a few seconds no handed and then drop back down.

Donuts for Dinner

A week shy of the 10 year anniversary of adulthood (a mark of voting and such - and not so much the hard stop of making terrible decisions) I pause to blog. Long around seven, I convinced my sister our parents hated fun. They had some political agenda against it. "Practice your piano." "Learn your times tables." "Get outside and get fresh air." "Eat healthy shit." Fish, sprouts, vegetables fresh from the garden. At the point I thought it couldn't get any more terrible, my Dad learned of a "dirty rice" recipe on the television. Suffice the title as enough of an explanation. When my mom learned I loved mac and cheese she researched a recipe for it with whole wheat pasta.

Why must my parents destroy all that is good and holy? Why?

I left home at 18 - for reasons completely outside much of what I've just written. For years I was brainwashed. Fruits and vegetables, legumes, salad bars, low cal, low fat, low taste, low fun. Not long ago a light bulb went off: I can do anything I goddamn want. Is this what freedom feels like Thomas Jefferson?

I planned to celebrate adulthood and my God given right as an American - to eat donuts for dinner.

Its been a while since I've visited a donut shop, and most of what happened next can at least in part be attributed to donuts being as cheap as they were. I wanted one, I promise. But they were two for a dollar. And if two, why not four? I'm not confident that's logic which could stand up in an American courtroom, but we're just talking donuts.

I got milk. And four donuts.

I felt a little bad as I peered through the window at the Taco Bell across the road and knew that would be a healthier option. But it was too late - my fate was sealed. I clutched on to that white bag containing the four donuts that would become my dinner. Donuts for dinner. Was this what being an adult felt like? Had I discovered total freedom?

I got home and looked again - there they were. One cake. One long twisted sugar. One chocolate bar. One original. I uncorked the milk. I took one last breathe in. I knew in some way my life wouldn't be the same - or at least the night. The night wouldn't be the same.

Once I started I couldn't stop. I hadn't just gotten four donuts - I'd gotten four different kinds of donuts. Once I was done with an original, there was chocolate, there was sugar, there was always more, more, more donuts to eat. I couldn't stop myself. In the end - I had eaten them all.

I sat there stoically on my couch. "What have I done?" "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" My belly became raised and I held myself tossing from side to side. "What have I done? What have I done?"

What had I done?

It was a tough night, and a tougher next day. But what I found the most difficult, was forgiving myself. I eventually learned to let go. To look back and laugh, if you will. There would be no more donuts for dinner. It was a terrible decision, and in no way any true hallmark of adulthood. It would be a harsh realization adulthood was more about fun in moderation coupled with the making of good decisions. Decisions that didn't leave me rocking side to side humming "what have I done?" But for a brief time, as I picked out those donuts, and carried them home, sat in my apartment as king of my castle, I felt like a grown up.

Rebecca's Mom Dates On The Internet

I get it, half of everyone's parents split. It blows, you cry, you're kinda resentful for a while, you play them off each other when you're a teenager to get the new Nintendo and see R movies, but eventually you get over it. You grow up, you want your parents to be happy, and you succumb to the inevitable - they will start dating again. Dating is just so ugly that must be why it usually happens to your parents before you get here. But I'm lucky enough to see it now in all it's glory.
So my mom is dating again. She's slimming down, toning up, having coffee dates, buying cute minis - I'm happy for her. Honestly. A few weeks ago she joined jdate. What really could go wrong?

*ring ring*

Mom: "Rebecca - I need you to come over right after work. I accidentally indicated woman seeking woman when I filled out the profile thingy, and I can't get all these women to stop writing to me."

Yes, what could go wrong?

Networking

Making deals and breaking hearts.

"When I think of the Dodgers, I think of efficiency, I think of pride, I think of a measuring stick," Torre said. "You always measured yourself against the Dodgers, because they always did everything right."

A Mad Mad Tea Party of A World

When life gives you lemons, you make a delicious lemon bundt cake.

So last night, I met this guy from Serbia. Which, who are we kidding, he met me. He was gorgeous. Times have been few and far between I have met men that good looking in my short stay on Earth. We were walking from Santa Monica Blvd and Doheny to Sunset and Fuller. Somewhere short of the Astro Burger he professed his love. "We should marry," he says. It's a long walk to Sunset and Fuller. What else would I be doing. I have time to get married on the walk. "Yes I will marry you ." "What will I buy you," he asks. "A golden retriever, of course." "I will buy you this - and what else." "Nothing else. That will be all thank you. I am an independent woman of the 21st century." We argued. As best I understand, he communicated he felt as though the early stage of our marriage was plagued with an inability for him to give me things I needed. I got his point, but I didn't care much for all the arguing, and he still hadn't bought me the golden retriever, so I didn't think the marriage was going to work. "I'd like a divorce," somewhere near Hamburger Mary's. It's been undecided if I'll get the golden, or who will keep it. We haven't reached resolution. I will leave that to my lawyers. I don't know Serbian law. Not familiar.

Then I met another man. His name was Joey. When he asked me questions about myself I gave him all of Alice's information. "My name is Alice and I was peacefully reading a book with my cat Dinah when a white rabbit hurried past me and down a hole and before I knew it I was speaking to hookah smoking caterpillars and having mad tea parties and things of this kind. I don't think he really believed any of that despite the alcohol he was also consuming.

The third and final suitor of the evening was beautiful also. He asked for my phone number and I gave it to him - in sign language, as I walked away, backwards. I don't know my thing with walking backwards - I think it makes me look mysterious. It really just invites tripping over potholes. I'm guessing I won't be getting a phone call on that one.

And when my mom asks when she's getting grandkids "it will be a while" is appropriate.

2007 Holiday Party Season

The joyous season is upon us and to kick it off, Rebecca Wareham is now accepting applications for the 2007 holiday party season.

Serious inquiries only. Submissions with photographs will be given priority review.