Check out Stuff I Like Today.

The title is pretty self-explanatory.

You'll find links that I think are funny, smart, beautiful, thought-provoking, useful or otherwise compelling.
And I want to share them with you.

Bookmark it, blogroll it, subscribe to it.
Or ignore it altogether.
Totally up to you.

*There is a permanent link to Stuff I Like Today in the ABOUT section to the right.

*I have been cigarette-free for two months. And, unlike other times that I “quit smoking,” I have not cheated. Not once. A friend who quit smoking a few years ago told me to think of myself as a nonsmoker, as opposed to an ex-smoker, quitting or something equally flimsy. A nonsmoker? That sounded so uncool, but here I am: a nonsmoker. (Turns out, smoking is not cool. Who knew?)

*I just made another big payment to my credit cards. Hooray for tax refunds! Shouldn’t be much longer now. And then I can save and go on vacations and buy an apartment and go swimming in a pool of cash. OK, that last part is not true, but I’m excited to drop this debt that’s been following me around for years. This will be an amazing step in feeling more like a grown-up, which is something I'm looking forward to.

or, Dude-ing on the Subway?

You have guts. I avoid eye contact with everyone at the gym as much as possible. I've had a couple of brief chats with one of the guys who hands out towels and locks, but that's it. Anyone else who looks at me while I'm there freaks me out.

jenn | Email | 02.24.05

I'm a weirdo. Sometimes I can be really chatty, and other times v quiet. Lately I've been tending toward the chatty, and not just at the gym. It's pretty amazing what can happen if you can think of a way to break the ice.

Tonight on the subway home, a very cute guy standing in front of me was reading a book. I cocked my head to see that he was reading an old paperback copy of The Fountainhead with the cover torn off.

I caught his eye and said, "I noticed your book, and I thought it was funny because about two years ago I came upon a random free copy of Atlas Shrugged with the cover torn off." Which, by the way, is true. And we spent the last few minutes of the ride gabbing about Rand and smiling at each other. Not altogether unpleasant for either of us, I tell you.

*I was responding to the comment, and it got a little long.

Related
*Mass transit: Prejudice on Public Transportation
*Stranger on a plane: Natural Beauty
*Chatty bloggers: 3leggeddog

or, Dude-ing at the Gym

“I don’t wanna rock … DJ,” Robbie Williams sang to me. I was a few minutes away from finishing my workout. Because I ate those homemade peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips last night—and because I only got to the gym three times last week (I have to be hard on myself, people!)—I added five extra minutes and a level of resistance to my usual workout. Huff puff, huff puff.

I was on the elliptical machine next to P’s office. I don’t like this spot. I prefer the machines that face the mirrors; you can spy on more people that way. I can only see the people that are right in front of me at this one. Luckily the two treadmills running toward me were occupied with two attractive guys that appeared to be heterosexual. And I can’t see him, but the guy on the elliptical machine next to mine needed to be properly introduced to deodorant.

I could feel the sweat sliding down my back. “Rock … DJ…”

P, a hot membership dude at the gym, returned to his office. As he ducked inside, he gave me a smile and blew me a kiss.

“Rock! … DJ! …”

I wiped down my machine like a good little gym member, and I waved to P as I headed toward my after-workout treat: the steam room.

“Hey C,” he called from his office. “Come in, come in. Sit down. Rest. Talk to me. I’m bored.”

I took a seat and we made chit chat for a couple minutes. I met P my first day at the gym. He’s only worked here for a few months, so I asked him how it was going. He said something about a perk being meeting beautiful members like me. I laughed. What an ironic thing to say when I felt like a wet towel on the bathroom floor.

“Well,” I said, “I should go. I feel disgusting.”

“Wait,” he said. “I got my business cards. Here, take one. So you can call me. Or email me. Anytime.”

“Ha, OK, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Or you could call me.”

“Hahah, see you tomorrow.”

*This will surprise no one that knows me, so I’m not sure why I’m bothering to type it. But I am. My favorite guy-candy at the gym is the tall jock who wears white wife-beater tanks to show off—say it with me—his tattoos. Colorful ones from his wrists to his shoulders. Yum. Note to self: Start lifting weights so I can come up with a reason to make his acquaintance. Pronto.

[OK, maybe I have one more post in me before the weekend]

President Merkin Muffley: This is preposterous. I've never approved of anything like that.
Ambassador de Sadesky: Our source was the New York Times.

Last week, my company had a communal "Wha?" when we read that we were on the auction block.

Our source was the New York Times.

But now it's official: The Gray Lady has paid a pretty penny for our shiny faces.

*Coworker Toby says Too Legit, Too Legit to Quit!
*Coworker Matt says Sold!

I'm not the only one who feels this way, but man, this week has totally wiped me out. So you get this really lazy post. :)

*The iPod Playa [via]

*You've seen The Gates, but have you seen The Buckets? [via]

*A Japanese Flash Video of Dragostea Din Tei [via]
(Clearly, I can't let this one go)

*Tips for Using an iPod Shuffle [via]

*The Nondating Life
If you've got a little time on your hands, or are looking for something print out and read on the subway home, read this series from Ken Wheaton.
Part 1: About Your Friends
Part 2: A Little Advice
Part 3: Cheaters McCheat
Part 4: Spark it Up
Part 5: Friend Zone
Part 6: The Chase
Part 7: You Say He's Just a Friend
Part 8: Or Friend Zone, the Flipside

You all rock. Thank you so much for all the suggestions for my workout playlists! In return, here are a few favorites of my own. (Bold are extra favorite favorites.)

Marilyn Manson - Tainted Love
Pointer Sisters - Jump (For My Love)
Jimmy's Chicken Shack - Do Right
Britney Spears - Your Drive Me Crazy Stop Remix
Geri Haliwell - It's Raining Men
Bloodhound Gang - The Bad Touch
Lou Bega - Mambo #5 Dance Remix
Orgy - Blue Monday
Nitty - Nasty Girl
O-Zone - Dragostea Din Tei [!]
Robbie Williams - Rock DJ
Save Ferris - I'm Not Crying For You
Shakira - Whenever, Wherever
Soul Coughing - Walk Around in Circles
Yello - Oh Yeah
Fine Young Cannibals - Good Thing
Survivor - Eye of the Tiger
Midnight Oil - Beds Are Burning

*Music to Sweat To See comments for lots of suggestions for workout playlists
*iPodlounge Forum: Workout Playlists

As the 6 train pulled into 59th St, the man next to me got off the train, and I scooted into his seat on the end of the bench. I like a seat on the end. You only have to squish against one person, instead of two.

She got onto the train and took a seat across from me. While I was fidgeting with my bag in my lap, our eyes met. It was one of the many fabulous women on my blogroll.

We exchanged the “Hey, I know you,” look. But it was more like, “Hey, I know you … and what are you doing here?” I was coming from the UES and she was coming from Queens.

“Don’t you live in Astoria?” she asked me.
“Jackson Heights, actually. But Queens, yeah. Don’t you live on the UES?”
“Yeah. I spent the night out in Astoria.” She had a nice bouquet of roses with her.
“Hah. I stayed over on the UES.”

What a funny way to start the day.

Hope you had a nice Valentine's Day. ;)

I spent the morning see-sawing about Valentine’s Day. I’m single, but I have a hot date. Am I supposed to love it or hate it? Crass commercialism and relationship labels! Bah! Hot date! Yum! Ow, my head hurts. Valentine’s Day is rubbish.

So I snuck out for a long lunch. I sipped my chardonnay while overlooking a rainy Times Square. Aiden, the blonde green-eyed fella across the table from me, had a funny look on his face as he looked into my eyes.

“You’re pretty,” he said.

Well, maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t all bad.

“Thank you,” I giggled.

I noticed he still had some pasta on his plate.

“Are you going to eat that?” I asked Aiden.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want it.”

“Big boys always finish what’s on their plates. How old did you say you are? Six? Six-year-olds always finish their food.”

“I’m five!”

“You told me you were six. I don’t date liars. Call me when you’re really six.”

Little Aiden started to laugh. He crawled under the table onto my side of the booth and snuggled next to me. We all started to laugh, despite the dreary view.

My cousin told me the story of how he lost $200 last weekend.

“So you got ripped off by a pimp?” I asked.

“Haha, yeah,” he said.

“Did you even really want the hooker?” He’s got a gorgeous fiancé, Aiden’s mother, who was sitting right next to me laughing.

“We were drunk!” my cousin said.

Aiden was jumping up and down. “Toys! Toys!” he was saying. He got me so excited. I jumped around with him in the rain a little bit before I hugged him goodbye.

Share a little joy with the ones you love today. Make someone laugh.

The groom's hot younger brother was waiting for me at the train when it pulled in. I first met this kid when he was 18. And though he's not jailbait anymore, it still feels a little wrong to think he's as yum as he is. (Unfortunately for me, he is still with his girlfriend blah blah.)

I brought flowers. Three dozen roses. It's practically Valentine's Day and this is an engagement party. Romantic, in a platonic kind of way.

Dressed in black and white and gray, I felt very blah in a room full of colorful saris. I wish I could wear a sari. We took lots of pictures of the couple, who weren't terribly excited about the to-do, but were willing to do it to make their parents happy. I scored a ride back home to Queens, instead of having to take the train.



And now, home and full of homemade Indian food, I'm remembering a crush.

I don't know what made me think to do it, but I Googled the name of a college newspaper columnist that I read back when we were at the same university. Lots of girls on campus had a little thing for him. Not only was he hysterical, but he was a cutie too. Turns out he writes for a blog now. The first post begins with a flashback to working at the video store in Boston, a frequent topic of his columns. I feel all giggly like I used to when we'd read him over lunch in the dining hall on Fridays.

I don’t know what I’m going on about.

Say "I love you" to someone today. Preferably several times. Do it again tomorrow.


I love you, valentines.
Have a piece of chocolate from me.

Mike,

I can't believe this is true! We were just chatting about "Million Dollar Baby," whether you should see it or not. You got busy and weren't going to be able to go until next week.

I'm glad I told you how much I admired you, even if you did brush it off. Your independence was in inspiration to me, for real, yo. You were so cheerful and open. And man, could we chat about movies!

I still can't believe this. I'm going to miss you.

Remember Mike Wolf
*Daniella remembers
*Linus remembers
*Dean remembers
*Paul remembers
*Lady remembers
*Heather remembers
*Krissa remembers
*Ken remembers
*Kirsten remembers
*Jim remembers
*Brian remembers
*Kambri remembers

Shaking out all the links I want to share with you.

*Love on the company clock
Includes the disgustingly sweet tale of two coworkers of mine.

*The Saga of Bloodninja [via]
Hilarious cybersex saboteur. Please read it. Made me laugh so hard. A small sample:

Bloodninja: Wanna cyber?
MommyMelissa: Sure, you into vegetables?
Bloodninja: What like gardening an shit?
MommyMelissa: Yeah, something like that.
Bloodninja: Nuthin turns me on more, check this out
Bloodninja: You bend over to harvest your radishes.
(pause)
MommyMelissa: is that it?
Bloodninja: You water your tomato patch.
Bloodninja: Are you ready for my fresh produce?
MommyMelissa: I was thinking of like, sexual acts INVOLVING vegetables... Can you make it a little more sexy for me?
(pause)
Bloodninja: I touch you on your lettuce, you massage my spinach... Sexily.
Bloodninja: I ride your buttocks, like they were amber waves of grains.
MommyMelissa: Grain doesn't really turn me on... I was thinking more along the lines of carrots and zucchinis.
Bloodninja: my zucchinis carresses your carrots.
Bloodninja: Damn baby your right, this shit is HOT.

*Top 15 Firefox Extensions

Blogs I Love Lately
*glorious day
*Petitedov
*Lifehacker
*why was daddy kissing that man in the park? [via]

OK, friends, I need your help.

As a lot of you know, I work on a system of personal rewards. When I do a good job, I give myself a treat. Going to the gym four times a week for four weeks definitely deserves a reward. The defined abs and arms are definitely nice (and will only get more so!) but I want some stuff.

So I got me one of the hottest gadgets** out there. [I've gotten completely snobby service while trying to get my hands on it. What is with the staff at the Apple store? I still don't have it in my hot little hands, but I've reserved one at Tekserve and will be picking it up any day now.]

As you many of you also know, I have horrific taste in music. I like pop music, so any pop songs that make great workout music are encouraged.

You can bet Dragostea Din Tei will be on the playlist. I'll also add I'm So Excited and She Bop.

What do you listen to at the gym?

More
*Load your iPod Shuffle for the gym

**I'm pretty anti-Apple [heard too many stories about repairs and poor service], but dammit, I was totally seduced by the price. Happy now, Chopper?

The Artist and I sat next to each other at a birthday party.

“So,” she asked, “how’s your dude-ing?”

Apparently she has quite a talent for turning nouns into verbs. Dude-ing. Computer-ing. Sex-ing.

“Um,” I said. “… What?”

“Your dude-ing. How’s your dude-ing?”

“Um.” I gave it some thought. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

Dude-ing is all of it. Dude-ing is flirting. Dude-ing is sex. Dude-ing is who you’re interested in and who’s interested in you. Dude-ing is the redezvous, the emails and text-messages, the sleepovers, the talks, the smooching, the panting, the butterflies, the disappointments and the tears. Dude-ing is relationships of the full spectrum of definition and emotion, even to the edge where there is no name for whatever it is you feel.

“You know. Dude-ing.”

I quickly warmed up to this word, which was silly-sounding at first, but describes a ubiquitous concept better than anything I’ve heard in a long time.

“So,” she tried again, “how’s your dude-ing?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I said, smiling, “my dude-ing is fabulous.”

*Oooh. Haloscan now has RSS for comments. (Or am I just noticing it now?) Bloglines is becoming an essential for me more and more every day.

*How to Read Blogs via RSS/XML
-Why RSS is useful
-How to use Bloglines
-Tips for Bloglines users
-How Blogger/*blogspot users can turn on their own RSS feed
-More...

*LiveLines 0.3.3 - Firefox extension to subscribe to RSS feeds with Bloglines in 3 clicks

*Get Firefox - Surf the web the way you've always wanted to

*Subscribe to A Picture of Me (with Bloglines)

*Comments, links and tips about Bloglines and/or Firefox are very welcome.

I have a friend who sends me links to funny videos. The last few haven't been that funny, actually. I think he was too stoned when he watched them. So when he sent me the link to Titanic Pimp, I didn't expect much.

When this fat dude, with boobs bigger than mine, rips off his shirt while lip-synching to Celine Dion, I just lost it.

But it reminded me of a video that I liked even more: Dragostea Din Tei.

I know a lot of people will make fun of that kid, but to me, he looks like he's having a blast.

So I downloaded the song and have it on repeat. I had to get my pop-fan friend in on the action. Sassy's got her whole house groovin'. It's all I can do not to burst out, trying to sing the Hungarian Romanian lyrics! I'm such a sucker for a catchy pop song. But you already knew that.

I'm ready to dance my way outta here!

Ma-ia-hii!
Ma-ia-huu!
Ma-ia-hoo!
Ma-ia-haa!

Dude: [girlfriend] and i were talking about valentine's day, and she said "who gives a crap, you know I love you."
Me: awwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Me: i love that
Dude: well, you should have heard the way she said it... more of a frustrated tone
Me: oh
Me: that's not how i imagined it
Me: i pictured it like, "who gives a crap, you know I love you" as she threw her arms around your neck and gave you a smooch!
Dude: you're too nice inside
Dude: no, it wasn't like that at all... you need your soul to die a little more...

On the ride to the movie theater, we’d remarked how clear the night was, how bright the skyline looked—the Citicorp Center, the Chrysler Building, the UN and the Empire State Building. The city was optimistic.

We got out of the car and climbed over a tall pile of dirty snow on the curb. The Mr. walked ahead of us. His Mrs. put her arm around me and she hugged me. I don’t know why and I didn’t ask. But I loved it.

I’d just been blathering about how gorgeous the view was up here on Cloud 9. Last week, someone told me I was a ray of sunshine. (Though we concluded the two Cokes I’d had before lunch might have played a role.) I may have been a little manic on Friday night when a friend told me to decelerate from my million mile per minute velocity.

Tonight I got a real hug.

The fates have smiled on me and everything seems so good, that I’m almost skeptical. How long could momentum like this go on, really? Just a month ago, I was as down in the dumps as I’d been since The Bedbugs.

Pish posh. Enough of that! Why, you ask, am I feeling so … happy?

*May I direct your attention to the diagram on the right. Below the books. It’s been over a month since I quit smoking. That means I smell nicer and have fresher breath. And I’ll probably live longer.

*Also notice that I have made considerable strides in paying off my credit card debt. That kicks ass. I can’t wait till my paychecks are all mine.

*I wouldn’t call myself a “gym rat,” per se. Rat is the game we play while we wait for the subway. Perhaps, a gym hamster? That sounds stupid too. I go every day after work. I feel amazing. I just hope I can keep it up for real this time. I want to. I’m not saying I’m old because I know I’m not; but it has occurred to me that, actually, I’m not getting any younger, as I have been under the misapprehension of for years.

*This one may sound stupid to you, but it’s a big deal to me. All of my bills are now being paid on time. That’s a weird habit I haven’t been able to break, well, ever. Until now.

All this with some lovin’ on the side. Hot.

A few weeks ago, one friend told me she thought I had my shit together. And I laughed. I challenged her, and all I could come up with was that I have a messy apartment. Someone else told me the same thing last night, the shit-together thing, and again, all I could say was, “I have a messy apartment.”

There are worse things, friends.