What is it about the moving walkway in airports that makes people act like they've never used those two long stick-like things protruding from their pelvis?
The name of this contraption alone suggests that on it one may want to, oh I don't know, walk and/or move. There's a reason its not called the "no really, you go ahead and relax those gams while I do all the work walkway."
I mean come on, some of us have to build two hours of travel time into our schedule to bank on the fact that we'll mistakenly end up at the end of Concourse B when our gate was all the way back at A3.
But I suppose my frustration isn't only with the moose-like creatures who stand there completely oblivious to everything that's going on around them. It's relatively easy to dodge those guys as they tend to be solitary travelers. But throw into the mix those weasels who could turn moving walkway-ing into an olympic sport (but think women's figure skating intense) and you're done.
Might as well make some theatrical gesture and throw yourself over the side railing. Trust me, I've seen it happen and even after a near spinal fracture, that guy STILL got to his gate faster.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
caution: you and the moving walkway are about to end
What is it about the moving walkway in airports that makes people act like they've never used those two long stick-like things protruding from their pelvis?
The name of this contraption alone suggests that on it one may want to, oh I don't know, walk and/or move. There's a reason its not called the "no really, you go ahead and relax those gams while I do all the work walkway."
I mean come on, some of us have to build two hours of travel time into our schedule to bank on the fact that we'll mistakenly end up at the end of Concourse B when our gate was all the way back at A3.
But I suppose my frustration isn't only with the moose-like creatures who stand there completely oblivious to everything that's going on around them. It's relatively easy to dodge those guys as they tend to be solitary travelers. But throw into the mix those weasels who could turn moving walkway-ing into an olympic sport (but think women's figure skating intense) and you're done.
Might as well make some theatrical gesture and throw yourself over the side railing. Trust me, I've seen it happen and even after a near spinal fracture, that guy STILL got to his gate faster.
The name of this contraption alone suggests that on it one may want to, oh I don't know, walk and/or move. There's a reason its not called the "no really, you go ahead and relax those gams while I do all the work walkway."
I mean come on, some of us have to build two hours of travel time into our schedule to bank on the fact that we'll mistakenly end up at the end of Concourse B when our gate was all the way back at A3.
But I suppose my frustration isn't only with the moose-like creatures who stand there completely oblivious to everything that's going on around them. It's relatively easy to dodge those guys as they tend to be solitary travelers. But throw into the mix those weasels who could turn moving walkway-ing into an olympic sport (but think women's figure skating intense) and you're done.
Might as well make some theatrical gesture and throw yourself over the side railing. Trust me, I've seen it happen and even after a near spinal fracture, that guy STILL got to his gate faster.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Word to the Wise
Word to the wise...do NOT, I repeat, do NOT in a moment of panic (because you think you've exhausted all word combinations of your go-to password) make your boyfriend's name your log in password at work. He may very quickly become your ex-boyfriend, leaving you with a daily reminder of himself that lasts 90 days until the IT department expires it. Especially if you're as technologically inept as this friend I know who may or may not have done just that and now can't figure out how to change it.
Oh that silly girl.
Oh that silly girl.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Don't Knock It Til You Try It
Well wrap me up in a chocolate truffle and call me Gisele!
No really, do it.
According to today's You Swoop deal (which is another Chicago-based Groupon type of program), an uber-luxurious spa in the Gold Coast is offering "slimming, detoxifying, and soothing" body wraps for 53% off.
Here's what the ad read:
"Lose 4-14 inches overall with a M'lis wrap(multiple sessions recommended)
Body wraps detoxify, increase circulation and exfoliate!
Choose from three options: M'lis wrap, moor mud
wrap or chocolate truffle wrap"
I'd first like to point out that I have no clue what a M'lis wrap is. I was too distracted by the chocolate truffle option to care. What I do know is that if you wrapped my body in chocolate truffle you can guarantee that there would not be any loss of poundage.
This is one of those emails that immediately evokes a mental image. Like I walk into a room, all peppy because I think I get to eat chocolate. But then they put my naked lil hungry body on a giant metal table and they roll me around and around in sheets upon sheets of chocolate (similar to the way the serial-killer Dexter uses sheets of cellophane to fasten his victims...) All flavors too, milk, dark, white, peanut butter infused. The layers start to harden because of the industrial size fan blowing a few feet away. Meanwhile, the certified chocolatier is standing there telling me to concentrate on my breathing so that I can really "experience the benefit of the aromatherapy too." By now, I'm like a 6'1" chocolate Easter Bunny. I'm so terrified that I'm sweating and panting and my heart is racing from all the caffeine intake (I would assume) and eventually my metabolism is so extreme that I[drumroll please]....lose anywhere from 4 to 14 inches around my waste.
I always knew in my gut that Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was influenced by the experience of a vain twenty-something with a disposable income.
No really, do it.
According to today's You Swoop deal (which is another Chicago-based Groupon type of program), an uber-luxurious spa in the Gold Coast is offering "slimming, detoxifying, and soothing" body wraps for 53% off.
Here's what the ad read:
"Lose 4-14 inches overall with a M'lis wrap(multiple sessions recommended)
Body wraps detoxify, increase circulation and exfoliate!
Choose from three options: M'lis wrap, moor mud
wrap or chocolate truffle wrap"
I'd first like to point out that I have no clue what a M'lis wrap is. I was too distracted by the chocolate truffle option to care. What I do know is that if you wrapped my body in chocolate truffle you can guarantee that there would not be any loss of poundage.
This is one of those emails that immediately evokes a mental image. Like I walk into a room, all peppy because I think I get to eat chocolate. But then they put my naked lil hungry body on a giant metal table and they roll me around and around in sheets upon sheets of chocolate (similar to the way the serial-killer Dexter uses sheets of cellophane to fasten his victims...) All flavors too, milk, dark, white, peanut butter infused. The layers start to harden because of the industrial size fan blowing a few feet away. Meanwhile, the certified chocolatier is standing there telling me to concentrate on my breathing so that I can really "experience the benefit of the aromatherapy too." By now, I'm like a 6'1" chocolate Easter Bunny. I'm so terrified that I'm sweating and panting and my heart is racing from all the caffeine intake (I would assume) and eventually my metabolism is so extreme that I[drumroll please]....lose anywhere from 4 to 14 inches around my waste.
I always knew in my gut that Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory was influenced by the experience of a vain twenty-something with a disposable income.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Dove...Don't Make Promises You Can't Keep
Dear Dove Dark Chocolate Promise Chefs,
I'd like you to know that I hold loyalty and honesty to a pretty high standard. If you need a gauge, basically I hold them to the same standard that I hold socks with sandals, except one is a must and one is a must never.
Naturally, I expect the same in my Dove Dark Chocolate Promises.
Full of fluff, light on the hard stuff, Dove has really been letting me down the past three months. Ever since Valentines Day I could tell something was off between us. "Sleep under the stars...admire a sunrise...exercise your heart....remember your first crush...think with your brain, feel with your heart." Welcome back amateur hour. Now what am I supposed to use as my moral compass? Apparently not these one-inch by one-inch aluminum foil wrappers like I used to.
First, these aren't even promises, they are commands. I live in downtown Chicago, it's not as easy as you think to sleep under the stars. Normally I would persuade people to go sleep under the stars by offering up Dove Dark Chocolates but no one wants any part of this absurdity. It's equally as difficult to admire a sunrise, something I have no intention of doing at 5:46am.
Secondly, why would I want to remember my first crush? I asked him out six times in one day and he said he'd go out with me if I was in the same grade even after I intentionally knocked down his pencil case then helped picked them up so I'd have a chance to verify that he was "sure about that." This is not a memory I want to relive.
Dove, what I'm trying to say is that I appreciate honesty above all else, so if you have something to say, just say it. Don't be so passive aggressive.
And since I'm here, I have a couple suggestions for your newly branded "Dove's Strong Suggestions":
#1. Go to the gym.
#2. Don't you think you've had enough?
#3. Put down the wine glass.
#4. You are such a sucker.
I don't want to sound too threatening here, but Dove, if you don't step up your game a bit, I'm going to have to resort to fortune cookies to fill the void. At least then I will have concrete instructions to follow, things like "you will fight with a coworker today then make up and become lovers by 3:30pm" or "an icicle will fall from the sky piercing your left shoulder but a studly man will come to your rescue by morphing his Armani suit into a tourniquet."
Very Sincerely,
Hoff.
I'd like you to know that I hold loyalty and honesty to a pretty high standard. If you need a gauge, basically I hold them to the same standard that I hold socks with sandals, except one is a must and one is a must never.
Naturally, I expect the same in my Dove Dark Chocolate Promises.
Full of fluff, light on the hard stuff, Dove has really been letting me down the past three months. Ever since Valentines Day I could tell something was off between us. "Sleep under the stars...admire a sunrise...exercise your heart....remember your first crush...think with your brain, feel with your heart." Welcome back amateur hour. Now what am I supposed to use as my moral compass? Apparently not these one-inch by one-inch aluminum foil wrappers like I used to.
First, these aren't even promises, they are commands. I live in downtown Chicago, it's not as easy as you think to sleep under the stars. Normally I would persuade people to go sleep under the stars by offering up Dove Dark Chocolates but no one wants any part of this absurdity. It's equally as difficult to admire a sunrise, something I have no intention of doing at 5:46am.
Secondly, why would I want to remember my first crush? I asked him out six times in one day and he said he'd go out with me if I was in the same grade even after I intentionally knocked down his pencil case then helped picked them up so I'd have a chance to verify that he was "sure about that." This is not a memory I want to relive.
Dove, what I'm trying to say is that I appreciate honesty above all else, so if you have something to say, just say it. Don't be so passive aggressive.
And since I'm here, I have a couple suggestions for your newly branded "Dove's Strong Suggestions":
#1. Go to the gym.
#2. Don't you think you've had enough?
#3. Put down the wine glass.
#4. You are such a sucker.
I don't want to sound too threatening here, but Dove, if you don't step up your game a bit, I'm going to have to resort to fortune cookies to fill the void. At least then I will have concrete instructions to follow, things like "you will fight with a coworker today then make up and become lovers by 3:30pm" or "an icicle will fall from the sky piercing your left shoulder but a studly man will come to your rescue by morphing his Armani suit into a tourniquet."
Very Sincerely,
Hoff.
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