Heartburn and Heartache.

Ug.  No matter what those little unsalted green/brown/magenta nuggets of goodness whisper to you, pistachios won't help your heart burn.

I felt the need to share this.  I am still not sure what I think if the election this year.  I question anyone who says they do.  I've just been a little despondent since Edwards dropped.  Regardless, I will probably be a vote for Obama or not vote at all.  Still depends.

Spooky, in't it?
I will be so pissed at America if you do it again. Seriously, I won't even invite you to my birthday parties, and at our thirty year reunion when people ask, "Hey, whatever happened to America?" I will just scowl and get all slitty-eyed and make a face that lets them know I DON'T want to talk about you.


The Eye to London

So AM New York offered me an illuminating article this morning about the "Telectroscope" at the foot of the Brooklyn anchorage for the bridge by the same name.    The back story was delightful, as were the three images included in the short piece.  But what has captured me the most in this fine example of journalistic prowess is the new addition to my vocabulary it has afforded.  "...a 3,000-mile tunnel lined with mirrors, creates this jaw dropping artistic example of 'steampunk' (a term used to describe a fusion of Victorian style and futuristic technology)."  While I feel like I must have heard the term before, I think it is fair to say, and if you know me at all, you will agree, that this word will soon become a favorite in my lexicon.
Sometimes you can't help but love it when the media openly embraces a lie.  I can't find the specific article online, but here's a little more information.

Top Five "steampunk" related items:

1. The City of Lost Children directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet
2. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
5. Stardust by Neil Gaiman


Audio Learner+Visual Learner does not= AV Learner

So I have been working at this real estate group for 6 weeks now.  Here's my main problem.  Relational being that I am I am going nuts that everyone I meet here has a duel personality.  It is not through any fault of their own.  
It's just as if I have met twice the people.  The phone voices, and the suited faces.  Spare a handful of people who walk up to the front and TALK to me once in a while, I see and smile at people when they come in and out, even carrying on a friendly banter with some of them, but the minute I buzz their desk, who knows which one is which.
I wonder if this situation has any commonalities with phone sex?