This Week in Janice: Drinking Tips and the Stock Market

the market doesn't feel well

Subj: stock market has “Tha Vapors”

Oh, I had a day like this in college—having the Vapors, I dropped like a stone and was unconscious, just like the Market today. In my case, it was internal bleeding, and the case could be made that that is what is wrong with us today—internal bleeding for the US Economy.

‘Cept the Market, unlike moi, is populated by a bunch of “Multinationals,” so I am gonna agree with Rick Santelli, who I just heard on the radio. You know, the youngish Chicago trader who threw a hissy fit that got recorded and started the Tea Party Movement. (He’s Famous enough to get himself in Wikipeia. Atta boy, Chicago boy!!!)  Well, on the radio today he said “It is 2008 in Europe today.” Which I thought was really cute. Remember 2008 here, when we all thought the economic world as we knew it was going to end? Europe’s politicos just tried to bail out Greece with a paltry amount of cash, and the Market is afraid that it’s not gonna work. Especially  with Spain and Italy which are definitely “too big to fail.”  There just ain’t enuf Euros to bail those 2 out if they turn turtle too. So you can sleep well tonight. Like in 1914 and 1939, it’s not Our Fault, it’s just those darn Europeans…

Claire vs. Marc: In My Country, Food Eats YOU!

Can't we all just get along?

Claire: I got free Indian food for dinner tonight!

Marc: Yes! I don’t even really like Indian food but I am fully behind anything free and edible
Claire: what are you talking about? Indian food is the best kind of ethnic foo—OOOOOH. NEXT DEBATE

(Editor’s note: Why do Marc and I always talk about food? Is it because we’re too emotionally stunted to discuss our real feelings? We never talk about our hopes and dreams, our fears or concerns. Why is that? What are we avoiding? Eh, screw it. Feelings are for wimps and communists.)

We Have Russias!

oh, just some stuff we have around the apartment

Molly and I love Russia. Her fascination with the coldest, most depressing country in the world started in college, when she discovered vodka read Hedda Gabbler. The book moved her to try to become, in her words, “a Russian bitch.”  Vodka just made her drunk.

My love affair goes all the way back to my early childhood, when my father used to convince me to do things by calling me a communist “Only communists stay up past their bedtime,” he would say. “Only communists refuse to eat their vegetables.” Instead of turning me from communism, his mind games made me wish to become a  Soviet.

Molly and I don’t know very much about Russia. Oh sure, we’ve read Russian novels, watched the occasional PBS documentary about the Romonovs, but we’re hardly experts. We’re not even sure how to say ‘Yes’ in Russian. (Answer: Da. How did we not know that?)

So on Memorial Day we’re packing our bags, donning fluffy fur hats and traveling all the way to: RUSSIA!!

Okay, so we’re not going this Memorial Day. We’re going Memorial Day 2011.  You see, going to Russia is a very time consuming and difficult process. We need an entire year to plan. We have to:

Things We Don’t Hate

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Everyone who isn’t a flaming Liberal is thankful for the obvious things: democracy, family, bacon, etc.  That’s why, this Thanksgiving, Claire and I are concentrating on the meaningless, trivial things that help get us from one day to the next.  Because THAT, my friends, is what the holidays are all about.

1. TV on DVD, Hulu, Netflix, On Demand…basically TV anywhere other than actual TV
2. When friends stay logged into Facebook on our computers
3. Compressed gas spray cans for your keyboard
4. Ridiculous PR pitches
5. White wine
6. Inanimate object Halloween costumes
7. Red wine

Come and Keep Your Comrade Warm!

I love Russia. I’ve never taken a Russian history class and I can’t say anything more than “babushka” and “borscht,” but I have a deep, abiding love for the bleak expanse of depression and concrete known as the former Soviet Union. I root for Russia during the Olympics. My iPod’s name is Vladimir. A few years ago, I read a biography of Peter the Great and right now I’m reading a book about the Trans-Siberian railway. I prefer vodka to other liquors. I briefly considered naming my dog Trotsky* and I own a “Communist Party” t-shirt (which I no longer wear due to an unfortunate encounter with an overheated clothes dryer). When I was nine, I wrote a short novella about a Russian orphan who travels to America to become an Olympic gymnast and adopts a box full of kittens along the way. Oh, and when I first moved to New York I spent an excessive amount of time hanging out in Brighton Beach.

Jury Duty is the Real Crime

I whited out my last name. See #19.

Oh, hello there Internet. It’s been a while. Two days, in fact. You see, I had Jury Duty. Except that I didn’t. Because, apparently, when you get Jury Duty, you may not have ACTUAL JURY DUTY. You might just wait around for two days in a Chinatown Courtroom, avoiding eye contact with, let’s face it, everyone. Which is what I did. And I’m so SAD. I wanted my 12 Angry Men moment! I wanted to fight for justice! I wanted to meet Atticus Finch! Instead, here are my accomplishments from Jury Duty, in no particular order.