Just For Fun, Kvetching, Uncategorized, Wipe the Drool

Oh, Please, No. MY Childhood Relived?!

Oh sure. This looks like a precious baby book to YOU. But what’s inside would make Stephen King cry.

Okay. We all know I have a great family, yadda yadda, and things couldn’t have been that bad growing up if I was on a swim team and had the language skills to say “Oh! Bless you!” after I heard someone cut the cheese when I was 2, blah blah blah…

Oh yeah. It’s all fine and dandy in the beginning.

…but there’s a dark side to my childhood.

I’m lulling you into a false sense of security with my sparse ‘cute’ pictures.

I’m revealing the horror thanks to an exceptional blog called Childhood Relived. At Childhood Relived, Angie Z. focuses on growing up in the 80s, which I think we can all agree is inherently funny. But her quick-wit and memory to match make this blog a non-stop Giggle Fest. I can tell you from corresponding with Angie via email that she is an extremely talented writer, both in and outside of the blogosphere.

Angie has an ongoing Dynomite! contest in which readers submit their most embarrassing childhood pictures.

I don’t know what possessed me to enter.

Because what began as this:

I wish that t-shirt still fit.

Somehow turned into, well, click here to find out.

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Kvetching, Project Management, Uncategorized

It’s All in My Noodle, Right?

No no. This isn’t an Italian recipe post. It’s a post about a humiliating team-building exercise involving pasta. Obviously.

As some of you know, I spend my days working as a certified Project Management Professional in the pharmaceutical industry. Because what else would a gal with a Creative Writing degree and an aversion to doctors do? Don’t get me wrong – it’s a good job for many reasons, and I’m grateful to have it. The people I work with aren’t even nincompoops.

But there’s one thing I hate.

And that’s Team-Building Exercises.

No matter how well we know each other, or how team-y we’ve become, they won’t give it a rest. On Thursday, we had yet another staff meeting, featuring yet another mysterious team-building exercise. After seeing the draft agenda, I immediately tried to devise ways to get out early, before the game show questions or trust falls could begin. I still had 20 of those heroin cough suppressants; maybe I would O.D.

In the end, because I have a tendency to think one false move will get me canned, I went along with it. Again. This time the team-building exercise was a spin on the show Minute to Win It. They divided us into 4 teams, and we played 10 rounds. In each round, a single team member from the 4 teams had to complete a task in 60 seconds or less. Every time you did, you earned a point for your team. The winning team members all got $10 iTunes gift cards.

Not bad. And you know what? It was -I can’t believe I’m about to say this- fun.

Watching coworkers try to unravel rolls of streamers by flapping their arms like deranged flamingos (or in one man’s case, a flag squad champion), and others try to get a cookie from their forehead to their mouth without touching it, was breathtaking. In the good way.

Oh yes. I yucked it up.

Until my turn.

But my task didn’t look too hard.

I had to put an uncooked piece of spaghetti in my mouth, and try to ‘string’ 5 small pieces of penne on it – without using my hands. I put the spaghetti strand in my mouth and knelt on the ground in front of the table holding the penne, trying to ignore the fact that multiple people had their cameras out.

The timer started and the pasta wobbled between my teeth like Lindsay Lohan on the set of Glee. The circumference of the penne now looked like a pinhole. I somehow managed to get the first piece of penne on the spaghetti, then almost dropped it. “Aw, she’s shaking,” one team member called out, while another added, “You can do it! Don’t worry! Don’t look at the clock!” With 10 seconds left, and nearly a dozen people hovering over me, I had only gotten two of the five pieces of penne on the spaghetti. I was a pasta-stringing failure. How had I made it this far in life?

My teammates graciously applauded me, and I, red-faced and sweaty, tried to shrink into the background. I was 30 years old, for the love of all that’s vodka, and this was just a silly game. So why did it take a half an hour before I stopped wanting to cry?

Does this happen to you? Do you get freaked out in ‘public’ situations like this? How do you feel about team-building exercises?

P.S. – In case you were wondering, we came in second place.

P.P.S. – Screw you, team-building exercises. I never liked you.

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

TV Junkie, Uncategorized

How I Feel About Naked “Girls” on HBO

Girls is HBO’s latest 30-minute dramedy, airing Sundays at 10:30pm EST. Starring 4 young women trying to navigate the post-college waters in New York City, at first glance it sounds like the prequel to Sex and the City. Not even close. This show is awkward, edgy, and even a little perverted. And it doesn’t give a scratch about shoes.

The most gripping tidbit about this new show is its creator, Lena Dunham. She’s only 26 and oh yeah, did I mention she’s also the star and [typically] the director? Judd Apatow, the show’s executive producer,  discovered Dunham after watching her independent film, Tiny Furniture (2010), and was so impressed he emailed her. (Dunham claims she thought it was a prank, because the email was titled, “From Judd Apatow,” and, seriously, who does that?)

Apatow and Dunham. …What’s that? Oh, I know. I should totally be there.

Apatow interviewed Dunham for a short feature on HBO, and mentioned one of the resounding lessons I’ve learned from starting this blog – humiliation makes the best comedy. (Apatow also offers another brilliant nugget: if you’re writing a script you’re going to star in, write yourself eating the food you want to eat. They have to bring it to you.)

It took me a few episodes to decide how I felt about Girls because, as I hinted, it’s a little twisted. Dunham is unabashed and -literally- bares it all. It’s not a show about geek-chic girls or career ladder-climbers, but it’s raw and funny. As Dunham has said, it’s a show about smart girls making stupid choices.  It’s one of those rare gems that’s hyper-real; sadly, the kind that usually gets canceled after a single season (think My So-Called Life or Freaks and Geeks). I believe today’s viewers are much better equipped to handle a show like this, though, and am confident it will thrive.

Have you seen Girls? Do you think there’s such a thing as a fictional show that’s too real? Where do you stand on fiction vs. memoir/soaps vs. reality TV?

***SUPER IMPORTANT ALERT THAT YOUR HAPPINESS PROBABLY DEPENDS ON: I’m wrapping up the Go Guilty Pleasures slap bracelet extravaganza, so if you have any unseen slap bracelet pictures, I hope you’ll send them to me at Julie.Davidoski@yahoo.com. Oh and I think you’re swell. Even if you don’t have a slap bracelet.***

Photo Credits

  • Photo #1 (cast) –  hbo.com
  • Photo #2 (Apatow and Dunham) – gq.com
Just For Fun, Lists, Uncategorized

How Would You Spend Your Fantasy Fortune?

This upsets me more than you could possibly ever know.

Sometimes, when I’m not busy fantasizing about getting paid to blog about guilty pleasures or chipmunk tea parties, or asking myself why on EARTH anyone would put a scorpion in a paperweight, I like to think about money.

Money is very important to me, because I like living in a house and going to movie theaters where they serve you beer.

I often ask myself: What would I do if I had REAL

I’d really have to watch out for Zeal.

money? More specifically, 1 million dollars? Would I allow myself to indulge in any guilty pleasures (like, I don’t know, say, a state-of-the-art karaoke machine)?

My answer might surprise you. But you can blame the cost of living in New Jersey. Here’s what I’d do:

1. Pay off the mortgage. Quit my job.

2. Pay off the mortgage.

3. Hoard Invest the remaining $100. …Kidding. But I would invest the rest.

4. That’s it. (Unless my investments pay off, then I would travel, travel, travel!)

I know. My answer is so boring. Which is why I really want hear YOUR answer.

So, if you were given 1 million U.S. dollars (after taxes – it’s all yours), what would you do? How would you spend it? Any guilty pleasures? Would you loan/give any to family or friends (…you would, wouldn’t you? Don’t you ever watch those specials about lottery winners? You are so one step away from wiring money to a “bank” in Nigeria)?

Photo Credits

Food, Marriage, Uncategorized

Why I’m a Terrible Wife

Yesterday at 8am I found myself driving to the closest drug store. Giggling.

Peppermeister had a bout of…well, he had an upset stomach, and it was all my fault.

Back in our uber blonde days, I only laughed at him when he fell during band performances.

The previous night, I’d convinced us both that getting food from Sonic, a fast-food chain where you park and order old-school style, was a really good idea. Never mind that we’d recently eaten at a post-baptism party*, and that normally trans fat is about as appealing to me as watching 30-year-old men play video games in their parents’ basement.

On Saturday, Sonic cheese tots seemed absolutely necessary. It might have been the after effects of the heroin cough suppressants talking. (If you’re doubting my commitment to the guilty pleasure-ful life, know that I indulge in bacon and butter in a way that would make the Two Fat Ladies proud. It’s all-natural fat… Okay. *sigh* Sometimes White Castle just RULES.)

We perused the unfamiliar menu on our lap tops. Peppermeister fixated on the Sonic Blast shake, which was vanilla ice cream mixed with candy bar bits. He wanted Snickers.

What I’m trying to say is it was big.

When he returned home with the “food,” I couldn’t see him behind the cup in his hand. Picture the Duggar family lined up side by side, and all their cousins stacked on top.

“It’s got to be a whole gallon of ice cream,” I marveled in the way people marvel at puppeteers and Charlie Sheen.

“I know!” Peppermeister replied gleefully as he dug in. Between his only two options, medium and large, he was confident he’d made the right shake-size decision.

My own super-sized cheese tots were less than satisfying, despite the promising heat-saving foil sleeve they came wrapped in. Melted American cheese slices covered the tots, as opposed to the globs of glow-in-the-dark Cheez product I was looking forward to.

We passed out watching the only unseen episode of Modern Family we had left (you chipmunks were right. That show is the shiz!).

I woke up several times during the night to down large glasses of water. The amount of salt in my meal rivaled the Dead Sea. My lips are still wrinkled.

Peppermeister faced a far worse fate. I witnessed a true guilty pleasure overdose.

“C’mon, Uncle Jesse!” I called to the dog in the morning, loudly enough for Peppermeister to hear. “We’ve got to go get daddy some more ice cream!”

Giggling during the ride to Rite Aid, I immediately realized I was a terrible wife. But I couldn’t stop picturing that giant cup and his utter delight as he devoured the shake, and maybe you just never get too old for potty humor.

If you’re expecting that I learned some kind of lesson as a result of this ‘terrible wife’ revelation, you should probably know that while Peppermeister moaned beneath the heating pad, I suppressed laughter and wrote this post.

What regret looks like. (That’s a full-size bottle of water! …Okay. It’s not. But still. Don’t even think about trying to tackle this shake without a well-stocked medicine cabinet.)

Have you ever laughed when you shouldn’t have?

*filed under: Things I’m Not Allowed to Blog About.

Photo Credit (Duggar Family) – tlc.com

TV Junkie, Wipe the Drool

Dear Tom from “Restaurant: Impossible”

Dear Tom from Restaurant: Impossible,

You’re nice and I like you, Tom.

Some people might be reading this and scratching their heads. I say ‘some people’ like a lot of people will read this. But my blog, much like your career, is grossly underappreciated.

Anyway, Tom. I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re pretty special. You’re the unsung hero of The Food Network’s Restaurant: Impossible. That strange-looking, beefy guy seems to get the lion’s share of the attention. But all he has to do is yell

I think you’re taller than him, Tom.

at people. He even yells at you, Tom! You’re the man who makes it all happen! You turn that failing restaurant into a shining masterpiece, with only two minutes and six dollars.

You are sexy grace under pressure, Tom, but I worry you will soon crack if someone doesn’t give you the credit you so deserve.

I was so proud of you, Tom, when you decided to branch out from your carpentry responsibilities, and take on the design, too. Who needs that petite brunette, right? I’m sure you were sick of someone telling you lime green is a good idea. And look at those lamp shades you made from scrap wood! You can do anything, Tom.

Look, Tom. YOU did this.

Please tell that man with the muscles that you want a raise or you’re walking your wares right over to HGTV.

Love and chipmunks remote controlling the universe,



What’s your favorite food/restaurant-themed show right now?

Photo Credits

Just For Fun, Lists, Uncategorized

Being Sick is No Laughing Matter. Okay. It Totally Is.


I really hope those of you with blogs aren’t writing anything good right now. Just try to hold off for a few more days, okay?

Because I’m sick.

And did you know bronchitis / sinusitis warrants opiates in the form of cough suppressant pills?


In my head last night, I wrote a whole post that ended in, “Is this real life?” In my head last night, I responded to all of your comments with funny, meaningful insights, like, “I can’t feel my legs.” In my head last night, I still had a voice, and that voice could SING!

Let’s just be glad all of that stayed in my head. Unlike this list:

Things That Made Me Cough Laugh About Being High Sick

Don’t stare directly at them! …And don’t check the basement.
  • Telling the nurse, who asked for my family health history, that “we all croak from cancer”
  • Discharge papers that say both “avoid dairy” and “eat yogurt if taking antibiotics”
  • After the nurse felt my throat and asked, “How does this make you feel?” me saying, “Like coughing all over you”
  • …Dang. I guess that’s it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to get back to High School Musical. …These kids don’t look high at all.

…Is this real life?