Watch out, Cupid stuck me with a sickness, pull your little arrows out and let me live my life

As it turns out, combining two terms into something new and funny is something that my friends, who are hilarious, enjoy doing and have done so for quite some time.

Take my friend, Erica, for example. Also, read her blog, which she updates just as frequently as I update mine.

Back in 2004, she and a coworker started making a list celebrity names mixed with medical ailments and the like.

The list had not been updated since that fateful day UNTIL she was inspired by my 80s bakery post and decided it was time to revisit the list. I feel like we’ve created a modern day set of celebrity-based Garbage Pail Kids and I could not be more proud. Also, the bar for things I am proud of is set very, very low. I woke up today! Hooray!

MUSICIANS

Malady Gaga

Katy Periodontitis

Jason Derulowflowpriapism

Gucci Manic Depressive

Ke$ha - It just sounds like a disease, and frankly, it looks like she might have something

Taylor Swift’s Disease

Brucellosis Springsteen

Diseasy E.

Culture Clubfoot

Croup Doggy Dogg

Biggie Smallpox

ChlamyDionne Warwick

Elton Jaundice

Garthritis Brooks

Robert Plantar's Wart

HalitOtis Redding

Cirrhosis Mixalot

ACTORS

Christina Hendricketts

Tinnitus Fey

Mariska HargiTay-Sachs

Rita Wilson's Disease

Amy BiPohler

Julia Louis-Dried Pus

John Hammertoe

Lupus Gossett Jr.

Lindsay Lohandfootandmouth disease

Rosacea O'Donnell

Paris Hiltonsilitis

Johnny Carcinoma

Scarlet Fever Johansson

Hepatitis B Arthur

GonorRhea Perlman

Sickle Cell AneMia Farrow

Bends Affleck (or Ben Afflicktion)

Molly Ringworm

Sharon Kidney Stone

Russell Crohn's Disease

Charles Bronchitisson (pushing it)

BANDS

Massive Attachycardia

Motley Croup

Kings of Leiomyomas

Paramorphea

Temper Trapidheartbeat

MononucleOasis

2 Live Flu

Anthrax

Bon Jovinile Diabetes

Great Whitehead

Stalked in the forest too close to hide, I'll be upon you by the moonlight side

What happens when you find out a friend of yours not only shares your love of everything 1980s but also your desire to open a bakery in Maine?

The following list of potential 1980s themed bakery names:

(Thank you Jen, Jenna and Chris for your HILARIOUS suggestions and reinforcing I have the funniest friends ever)

I Knead You Tonight

Fattyshack

Top Bun

Bread Poets Society

Buns ‘N Roses

Back to the Chewture - A write-in suggestion from Colin S. Brilliant!

Total Eclipse of the Tart

Biscotti Kid Part Chew

Toastbusters

Whip It

PYT - Pretty Yum Things

I Want To Know What Loaf Is

Dexy’s Midnight Muffins

Fondant Goes to Hollywood

Love is a Butterfield

Take My Bread Away

She Blinded Me With Dessert

Love Bites

Take It On The Bun

Hewey Lewis and the Brews

Still Haven’t Found What I’m Cooking For

Another One Bites the Crust

Hungry Like the Wolf

Pour Some Sugar On Me

She Blinded Me With Croissants

Might Morphin Flour Rangers

Indiana Scones and the Truffle of Doom

This is Ginger Snap

Ferris Cruller’s Day Off

Bake Me Up Before You Go-Go

I Love Wok and Rolls

Hit Me With Your Best Pot

We Got the Beat (ers)

We’re Not Gonna Bake It

We’re Not Gonna Cake It

Flock of Struedels
Big Truffle in Little China

LadyFingers In Red

Sweet Child Of Mine

Pie Hard

Electric Creams

License to Fill

Baking Mr. Right

The Naked Bun

Red Velvet

Whisk-y Business

Valley Twirl

Young Buns

Girls Just Want to Have Flan

You Cook Me All Night Long

Half Baked

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Fat Times at Ridgemont Pie

Teenage Mutant Ninja http://www.chocolate-candy-mall.com/images/chocolate-turtles-44610.jpg
Bakers of the Lost Ark

You’ve Got the Right Fluff

Field of Creams

Blade Bunner

I Want Candy

Candy Girl

It Must Have Been Lard…But It’s Over Now.

You're spending all your time collecting and discovering, it's not enough.

I think I find myself drawn to songs that contain counting because it makes me feel like I already know some of the lyrics.

Moving is the best anti-shopping. I’m now going to ask myself, before making any purchases, “Will you want to pack this in a box in a few years? Does the thought of that make you want to kill yourself? Yes? Put it back.”

During the apartment search, the fact that there is a wings place at the end of my street factored into the final decision. Does that make me fat…or just a believer in thorough SWOT analysis?

I realized I was no longer friends with someone on Facebook the other day when I said to myself, “Hey, wonder what he/she is up to, haven’t made fun of his/her updates in a while.” Whoops.

In unrelated news, if you’re a single girl going out on a bunch of dates and you always think it’s “going really well” but the guy always drops off the face of the Earth, there is nothing wrong with him. There is something wrong with you. Your friends won’t tell you that because they are equally as delusional and equally as single with equally as many cats. You may have read about this in “He’s Just Not That Into You” but then you messed it all up by believing that Carrie from Sex in the City and Bridget Jones are real people. There is no need to lead a charge to try to change this type of behavior in men. You are not Joan of Arc and you make him even more scared of other single girls. Don’t email him/text him/call him demanding an answer. Move on, Crazyface.

"It's women like you that keep the rest of us from landing a husband." - Edna Krabappel

(Oh, and it probably WAS something you said.)

(Also, don’t talk about it on Facebook or on a blog.)

The six o'clock alarm would never ring, but it rings and I rise

Kelloggs introduced Sunny and the "two scoops" slogan in 1966 (thanks, Wikipedia!). It's pretty clear this indicates the amount of raisins in the cereal exceeds that of a lesser one-scoop cereal. Why wouldn't someone in 1967 just introduce "three scoops?" Isn't that like when someone is on The Price is Right, and after "coming on down" they guess $1 on the price of the prize (assuming all of the other contestants went over) but they don't realized they are actually the second to last person, so the actual last person says $2 and wins?

It seems pretty obvious to me.

Also, raisins are gross.

She'll tell you she's an orphan...after you meet her family

Isn’t it amazing how much people think they know about angels, even though we don’t actually see them?

Like what gives them wings … the sound of a bell ringing

Like what makes them cry…the sound of balloons popping

Like what they feel like…toilet paper

Just let me state for the record, we're giving love in a family dose

Imagine if you had a job where you only had to show up once in a while, never had to do any actual work and still got paid?

It’s called being a consultant....but in this case, an aunt.

You only really have a small set of requirements (besides fertile siblings) to be an aunt.

-Bottomless pit of love and support? Check.
-Ability to serve as refuge when niece/nephew realizes they have the meanest Mum in the world and need to escape to awesome Auntie Lisa’s house? Check anticipated in the future.
-Prevent all injury and bodily harm. So far, so good!

Now when I brought up the idea of my BF and me bringing my 3-year-old nephew to the Aquarium this past Saturday, people (my entire family) had their doubts.

Can you handle it? Are you ready for this? What if he throws a tantrum? What if he doesn’t listen? What if he starts yelling? What if he starts crying?

In these situations, I’m sure his Mum would give him a warning. A stern talk. A time-out.

Do you know what Auntie gives him?

M&Ms.

(That is an actual photo of the inside of my purse)

I’m not here to enforce discipline. I’m here to look at penguins and have a good time. To the Aquarium!

It actually ended up being a really great day. Sure, it costs about $785 to go to the Aquarium, but I think that was worth it just to see my nephew’s face light up every time one of those gangly toothed sharks swam by the window in which we were standing….for about two solid hours.

“Here he comes! There he goes….here he comes again! Oh, there he goes….but he’s swimming back around! Look at the turtle! No, you’re right. He’s not a shark. The shark is….there he is!”

You know where else they have sharks? The gift shop! My nephew put three stuffed sharks into a shopping basket, by himself, and then walked right over to the checkout line. It was hilarious. Sure, the BF and I had to channel ninjas to get two of the sharks out of the basket without him noticing but we did it. It involved a lollipop distraction and a stealthily executed hand-off.

Kids are SO easy to take care of in four hour increments. Piece of cake.

Speaking of cake, I love beer.

I was on the Orange Line on Friday and a man sitting near me smelled kind of like beer. A normal person might say to him or herself, “Who drinks at 8 in the morning? That’s disgusting. That guy has a problem.”All I could think was “I cannot WAIT to go out after work.” (Can you believe people worry about me taking their kids into the city?)

Also, how is it that on random days I’m the tallest person on the train? I’m hardly a tall, lanky hipster. I’m an average 5’5 but I think a family of tourists was going to ask to take pictures with me when I stood up on the Red Line the other day. And that is nothing compared to the time I was on the Blue Line and almost recruited to play center on a men’s basketball team.

Just another day in the life of a commuter.

Remember, in the subway and in life, when you feel like there is nowhere to go…watch the doors, there is another train directly behind this one.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life...

Oh. There you are!

I know. It’s been a long time. Cut a sister some slack. I’ve had A LOT going on over the past few months.

First of all, I have a new nephew. How awesome is that? I now have not one, but two nephews that I can babysit and let stay up all night and eat pizza and make fun of their parents. Being an auntie is the best. Especially since I realized I can just take them to Home Depot and tell them that any of the men inside is the real Handy Manny and they will actually believe me. I’m a really bueno babysitter.

And I have a new job! It’s fantastic. I love it. Same field, just different company.

I think it might be the best thing to ever happen to this blog. Why? Because if you ever run out of things to talk about on your blog (see: the past 5 months)….start taking the MBTA to work. Guess who has a fantastic rack and will never run out of stories again? This girl.

For the record, I love the T. I think it’s extremely convenient. I give myself enough time to get where I’m going and it gets me there. I read. I don’t have to drive. I don’t sit in traffic. It’s fantastic.

First and foremost, when I get on the subway in the morning (at the first stop), I basically have my choice of seats. I always choose to sit in the last seat, right up against the wall. Why? Because that means I only have to sit next to one stranger. I’ve cut my “stuck next to a weirdo” odds in half. I should fight crime or solve the healthcare crisis.

Somehow, SOMEHOW, on many mornings a woman will get on the train and elect to sit in the seat(s) next to me and frankly, it just doesn’t work. It doesn’t work because, as you may have noticed, I said seat(s). I think I’ve almost had my ribcage crushed a few times by some woman with reverse Shallow Hal disorder who thinks her 36 inch ass is fitting into an 18 inch seat.

I truly believe there should be a ‘do you fit in this seat’ example chair set up in each station, the same way that people can measure if their carry-in will fit in the overhead compartments on an airplane. No one is judging, let’s just be a little realistic here.

And I am not a small girl. I am…how do you say…posteriorly gifted? Bottom heavy? Have back?

Oh, I’m not making this up. I have many examples to back up those statements. The first, and most therapy-inducing, being a soccer memory gone wrong. I was 16 years old, playing varsity soccer and dating a guy from a neighboring town. I adored this young man and was so excited that he was coming to see me play versus his home town. It was a night game, under the lights. His parents were there, cheering on the nice young girl their son was dating. The game was exactly as you would expect it, the intensity of town rivalries played out passionately on the pitch, fighting for each ball as if it was…wait…what? What is that? Do you hear that? The chanting? Are they…are they chanting “Thirteen’s got a big butt?” Oh yeah, yeah they are. Guess who needs a sub and she isn’t talking about a steak and cheese?

As a matter of fact, just tonight (no joke, this blog is practically happening in REAL TIME) I knocked over several drinks with my backside….ONTO a client…while trying to get up to go to the ladies room. My calm and professional reaction? “I have a HUGE ass.”

Who WOULDN’T hire me? Really?

Now that that’s out of the way (and I’ve adequately horrified myself enough to warrant skipping lunch this week), you understand that my comments about realistic ass-to-seat assessments are coming from a good place. An honest place.

A place that does not play a beeping sound as you back up towards me.

A place that does not warrant use of a shoe horn for me to try to get out of my seat and get off of the train.

A place where a round peg does not fit in a square hole, and your giant butt does not fit into this little seat.

Anyway, I’m back. I’ll be writing. Topics to include, but are not limited to:

- The guy that calls me “mama” at Downtown Crossing
- People that don’t take off their giant camping backpacks on the T (and why do you have that? I know you work at State Street not Mt. Washington)
- Pregnant or fat? Pregnant or fat? Do I give you my seat? I can’t decide! Avoid eye contact go!
- Cheez-its. Underrated and delicious.

Keep checking. Keep reading. Namaste.