I Have Never Had A Brother...

...but if I did, I think I would want him to be the Mac from the Apple commercials.

He just seems so nice. He's always so kind to the PC, and he never boasts. And for some reason, I can picture myself laughing with him over the crazy antics we pulled when we were kids. Plus he'd probably be able to help me when my computer crashed.

I am not sure how high this thought rates on the weird scale, but probably pretty high.

Songs For Forever...Or Never

Another article from the "are you kidding me" file came across my desk today.

The good folks at UK-Disco.co.uk conducted a survey of UK disc jockeys to determine the top 10 songs couples use for their first dance at their weddings. Most songs on the list are sappy, cheesy, but appropriate love songs. Topping the list, for example, is Aerosmith's "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing." But two of them are just wrong.

Coming in at number 7 is "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt. Putting aside the fact that the song is about a guy who sees a pretty girl on the subway when he's high, the lyrics don't even make sense for a wedding. I cannot imagine myself looking into my new husband's eyes, thinking about the happy, wonderful life we have ahead of us while listening to the words, it's time to face the truth that I'll never be with you.

Number 10 is the Whitney Houston hit "I Will Always Love You." The title has a nice sentiment, but the tune falls short as a wedding song with the very first words. If I should stay, I will only be in your way. It's a breakup song, people! Just because a song has a sweet, lovey title does not mean it is a song about everlasting happiness.

Is it just the Brits, or is everyone this dumb? I looked for results of similar surveys for Americans and couldn't find that such a survey had ever been conducted. It makes me wonder, though, do people ever listen to the lyrics of these songs before choosing them?

I once saw Sting on TV talking about how people tell him they used The Police song "Every Breath You Take" for their weddings, to which he just chuckles and replies "good luck." People who choose this song simply baffle me, because there isn't even a catch phrase that makes it sound like a romantic song. If my fiance ever suggested we make that our song, I'd go straight to the actual police and get a restraining order.

A quick Google search turned up more odd choices. Wedalert.com lists "Memory" from the musical Cats. That's not about anything even remotely connected to a wedding, or love, or anything! It's a beautiful song, but unless you met while performing Cats, you should not use that as your wedding song.

Wedding Web site theknot.com recommends another Whitney Houston hit, "One Moment In Time." I want one moment in time, when I'm more than I thought I could be, when all of my dreams are a heartbeat away, and the answers are all up to me. Even putting aside my cynical attitude toward wedding reception traditions, this song just screams "desperate girl who thinks getting married is the only worthwhile thing she will ever do." Either that or "this couple can't wait to get divorced," since the song ends with the words in that one moment of time, I will be free.

Similarly, weddingtips.com recommends "Hero" by Mariah Carey. That's a song about loving yourself and making it on your own. Why not use the Mary Tyler Moore theme instead? Weddingtips.com also lists "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins. This must the the song for people who hope the exes they'd previously given up on are at the wedding and whisk them away before the cake is cut.

I suppose it's possible that there are some couples out there to whom one of the songs I mentioned has a special meaning. Perhaps they really did meet on the subway while the man was high, for example. Or maybe one of them was stalking the other before they fell in love, a la "Every Breath You Take." I'm all for personalization, and if you're going to have a first dance song, it should be meaningful.

As for me, well, there will be no dancing at my reception, and especially none of those traditional dances. I'd rather do things that have a special meaning for my fiance and me, and our families, than things our guests expect us to do and half of them don't even watch, because, let's face it; people don't dance like they used to, and usually all there is to see is a couple leaning to the music and looking at each other awkwardly because they know the other half of their guests are watching them. Plus, the bar is usually open by that time, and there are rolls on the tables, so there are better things to do.

But for those who like the tradition, I have only this to say. Before you choose your song, please listen to it, and consider whether it is really a song you want representing you on your wedding day. And then pick the shortest song you can find, because your guests are hungry, and the caterers won't serve dinner till you're done.

The Cola Wars Continue

I was quite surprised to see this story in the news today.

Two men have pleaded guilty to one count of conspiracy after being accused of attempting to steal new product samples and marketing plans from Coca-Cola Co. so they could sell them to PepsiCo Inc. A former Coca-Cola secretary is scheduled to stand trial beginning next month for her role in the plot.

I can't help but wonder, are you kidding me?

I'm sure the leaders at both companies have aspirations of world domination, at least insofar as their products go. And of course that means if one comes up with something new and different, the other must respond with a similar product. But what could Coke possibly be cooking up that Pepsi would need to commit industrial theft to know about?

I realize there's something to being the first one out of the gate with a new product or marketing campaign. But these two companies being as huge as they are, I don't think either is in danger of going belly up if the other beats them to the punch.

"I'm sorry," the general public will say. "I've already tried Cheese Coke, so I don't think I'm going to try Pepsi Parmesan." As John Stossel would say, give me a break.

Apparently, someone at Pepsi warned someone at Coke of the impending plot, and it was stopped before anything actually left the accused men's hands. Good for Pepsi, I guess, but I wonder why the men decided to steal the stuff in the first place. Did they have a deal with someone at Pepsi, or did they steal first and sell later? Either way, it's a dumb idea.

In my opinion, if Pepsi really wants to be #1 (a title which currently belongs to Coke), they should focus on the products they have rather than trying to develop new ones, for example, Diet Pepsi. I bet more people would buy it if it didn't taste like crap.

But then I guess there's a lot I don't understand about these things.

An Open Letter To The People Who Post Spam Comments On My Blog

Dear People Who Post Spam Comments On My Blog,

I am glad that you think I have a "great blog!!!" and are eager to share the great opportunity for me to make up to $800 a week. But I might be more willing to fall for your spam if you didn't post the exact same message twice in a row on the same post and three times on my blog as a whole. Come up with some new material, please. And make it entertaining so I at least enjoy reading it before I delete it.

Sincerely,
Erika

Celebrating 10 Years of Adulthood

Today is my birthday. At 10:38 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, I will turn 28.

Whenever my birthday rolls around, I get to thinking not only of the year I've had, but of past birthdays, and this morning it hit me that I have legally been an adult for a whole decade now.

At 10:38 p.m. on October 19th, 1996, I turned 18 at a fraternity house. It was my first semester of college, I wasn't a big partier, and I didn't like the crappy beer they had in the frat houses (Iron City Light -- it's cheap, so it's popular on my old campus, but even when you're underage, you really have to want to get drunk to brave the stuff), so I was stone-cold sober and kind of bored. But since it seemed like a cool college student thing to do, and I hadn't been to any fraternity parties yet, I went, and I got a kick out of legally becoming an adult the same day I reached this rite of passage.

Ten years later, my birthday has again become a significant day in my life, not only as the anniversary of the day I was born, but as a landmark on my journey through adulthood. This is likely the last birthday I will spend with my current last name; by this time next year, I will probably be a Mrs. And since my fiance and I are aiming to buy a house as soon as possible, I may be a homeowner as well. Being married and owning a home will certainly cement my place in the adult world. Add to that paying off my credit card debt, and I'll be a real live grownup!

It's scary, but in a good way. At age 18, I was an adult in name only. I didn't feel like an adult. I wasn't living at home full-time anymore, but I wasn't self-sufficient yet, and even then I knew I still had a lot to learn. Even after I was finished with school and moved out of my parents' house completely, I had years of decision- (and mistake-) making ahead of me.

Today, I have a car that wasn't previously driven by my mom, a balanced checkbook and a kitchen full of gadgets and cookbooks I actually use. I have accomplishments in my past and goals for my future. I have an understanding of who I am and who I want to be.

It's taken 10 years, but I finally feel like an adult.

The Girl Who Ate Michigan

I love to eat.

I know this comes as no great shock. I write about food on this blog all the time, and I talk about food all the time. I just enjoy food. (I get this from my portly grandfather, who once said he hoped he would eat himself to death). I figure that I have to eat anyway, so I might as well enjoy it.

This past weekend, I flew to Michigan to see my good pal Marla, who appreciates food as much as I do. We routinely e-mail recipes to each other, and for the short time we lived and hung out in the same city, we ate together a lot. We hadn't seen each other for nearly a year, so we had a lot of eating to catch up on.

I've been very careful lately about eating healthy and not over-snacking; I've lost a few pounds and feel great. But it became apparent very early in my trip planning that my diet was in trouble, when people asked me what I'd be doing in Michigan and I listed restaurants. The man next to me on the flight to Detroit had a hearty laugh because all I talked about was food the whole way there. He asked me how I "stay so thin." I've never been particularly fat, but I've always had enough extra fluff that people don't typically describe me as "thin," so this made me feel like a million bucks.

As soon Marla picked me up at the airport, the eating fest began, and it didn't stop until she returned me to the airport on Monday morning. It was like going on a bender, except with food. This is a rundown of my weekend, in food.

After my flight landed around noon on Friday, Marla picked me up and, after a short detour to pick up her friend Sam, we went to lunch at a Middle Eastern place called La Shish. We had bread with hummus and this wonderful garlic stuff that made me glad my fiance was not around to refuse to kiss me. La Shish also makes incredible smoothies, so we had those, and I also ate a chicken shawarma sandwich, which was quite tasty, and I sampled Marla's salad and rice.

After a shopping excursion in Ann Arbor (during which we ate nothing despite allegedly being very close to a fantastic cupcake place -- how strong were we?), Marla and I dropped Sam at home and went to Ikea, where we ate cinnamon rolls. We looked at furniture too, but let's be honest. I wasn't taking any furniture home with me; I was totally there for the food.

I thought I was full, but after some time sitting around Marla's house, we both felt the tummy rumbles again and headed out to Baja Fresh, where I had never been before. I don't remember what I ate, but I sure was full.

On Saturday, we actually skipped breakfast, but it was for no noble reason. We met Marla's mom for the lunch buffet at a casino in Detroit. It was my first time in a casino, so I excitedly put a whopping six dollars on the line in hopes of winning big money. At one point, I was up to $11.50, but I got greedy and lost it, ultimately breaking even. The buffet more than made up for the disappointment, though, particularly the dessert area. I really wanted to be a glutton and take one of everything, but this was the first time I had met Marla's mom, and I didn't want her calling me "that girl who ate everything." (I learned, however, within a few minutes of talking to her, that she would probably come up with something more catchy and with more vulgar words to call me. She was so entertaining; I just want to follow her around for a day sometime and observe her). Anyway, the food was great; I really won big at the buffet.

After an afternoon of ripping the band-aid off (otherwise known as wedding dress shopping), we stopped for an Orange Julius and contemplated an Auntie Anne's pretzel before deciding to have a donut instead. We went to a cider mill and got in the donut line, when I realized I had none of my little pills that make my lactose intolerant tummy not hate me, and with no assurance that there was no milk in the donuts, I passed, leaving me hungry enough for chips and a big burrito at Chipotle. Mmm.

I would like to point out that we spent the evening at the movies and did not get any snack of any kind.

Sunday was a magical food day for me, really and truly. The first food stop was at Bruegger's Bagels, a place I used to frequent when I lived in Pittsburgh. I hadn't been there since those days, and as soon as I walked in, those days of daily bagels and cream cheese came flooding back. It smelled the same, and it tasted the same. It was a very special breakfast.

We spent the afternoon with Marla's grandma, chatting with her at her house (where there was candy) and then visiting her uncle's farm (where there were cookies). We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner, and that was a life-changing experience. Rolls with cinnamon butter and a steak with two sides for seven bucks. Can't beat it. We also got one of those onion blossom things; by the time I got my steak, I was pretty full, but I didn't want it to feel bad, so I ate it. When we left, I thought I would explode. Luckily, I didn't, but it was a close call.

On Monday, we stopped again at Bruegger's, and I was off to the airport. I flew home, back to healthy food in smaller portions.

All in all, it was a great weekend. Not just for the food, but that certainly was a highlight. I can't wait to go back.

Because after all that talk of food, I sure am hungry.

Taking A Chance On Fashion

I am wearing a funky belt today.

It's way funkier than I would ever have chosen for myself; I hardly ever wear belts to begin with. In fact, it might be too funky for the outfit I'm wearing, but I thought, what the heck, I'd give it a try.

This is my first time wearing the practically-new belt, which I brought home on Sunday from a clothing swap at a friend's house. Four of us got together, brought our used-but-still-nice clothing and traded it for each other's used-but-still-nice clothing.

I wouldn't say I'm a totally hopeless case when it comes to fashion (the "What Not To Wear" people haven't knocked on my door yet, but who knows, it could happen), but I am a pretty boring dresser. I go for basics. My closet is full of khakis, sweaters and solid color cotton shirts. I don't often take a chance on patterns, and I cannot accessorize to save my life.

The one thing I can do is color-coordinate. My nail polish always coordinates (notice I didn't say "matches," I'm not that weird about it) with my outfit, and I always make sure that my tops, bottoms and shoes go together. Of course, that's not that hard to do, but at least no one will ever say, "what was Erika thinking wearing that shade of green with that shade of brown."

My color coordinating abilities aside, when I went to the clothing swap, I was determined to bring home some fun new items. The gals who went all seem to have more variety in their wardrobes than I have in mine, and they can accessorize, so I thought the swap would be a good opportunity for me to take a chance on trying something new. Perhaps this would be the dawning of a new day for my closet.

Of course, even with my blah wardrobe, I had some things to offer. I mean, everybody wears khakis sometimes, right? I had several pairs of pants and a skirt or two that just don't look right on me anymore, and a few items I've replaced with things I like better. I think about half of my stuff is now hanging in someone else's closet. (Everything not claimed at the swap was taken en masse to a Goodwill box down the street from the hostess' house).

I ended up with some nice things too. I brought home two skirts, three or four sweaters and a handful of jewelry, as well as the aforementioned funky belt. The belt was actually a last-minute decision. As I said before, I don't wear belts too often, and this was not normally something I would choose for myself, but the girl who brought the belt was talking it up so much that I had to take it.

It's a really nice belt, she told us. She just didn't like that it didn't lie flat. The other two tried it and didn't like it, so I took it. What the heck, I thought, I wanted to try something new, and knowing my inability to accessorize, I knew I'd never trust myself to choose and buy a belt at a store.

It was about then that I grabbed the jewelry, most of which is also way too funky for me, but it was just going to go to the Goodwill box anyway; if it doesn't work for me, I'll take it there later.

We all left satisfied with our bags of loot and happy that our previously loved things had found new homes. We agreed to plan a swap like this twice a year, so we could help revamp our wardrobes every season.

For the past three days I've worn clothing swap merchandise to work. Earrings, a sweater, and now the too-funky-for-me belt, which I've probably made out to be a lot more funky than it actually is. The belt is just black leather; it's the buckle that's different. And that's just two loops that the belt goes through, then you need to turn the end of the belt back to put through one of the loops to make it stay in place.

I think that really brings it home what a boring dresser I am. When I showed the belt to my fiance this morning, he crinkled his eyebrows at me and said "that is pretty funky," in a way that I could tell he really meant, "what happened to your khakis and solid color cotton shirts?" I guess I can understand the confusion. I'm also wearing a sweater with stripes of several different colors, so he probably thinks I've gone completely crazy.

OK, so a striped sweater and a belt probably isn't going to make people take notice; it's not exactly a bold and daring new look. But one small step in fashion is a giant leap for me. Today a belt, tomorrow, who knows? A print instead of solids or stripes? A hat or scarf that was not designed for winter use?

Whatever it is, you can bet it will be funky.

Quick Take Updates

Much has happened since I began this blog, so I thought I'd update my two or three loyal readers on what's been going on since previous posts.

- I watched The Nine, and I think it is my new show.

- I played regular Monopoly, and it was weird. Somehow dealing in ones and fives is disappointing after dealing in millions.

- I bought a car charger for my ipod, and it doesn't work. When will the madness stop?

- The Shrieking Machine still goes to my gym, and she still annoys the crap out of me. But last week, I heard the instructor tell her, "less shrieking, more punching," and I felt my spirits rise. She kept on shrieking, but it's good to know she annoys the crap out of more people than just me.

- Mr. Heckles held the door for me last week and even said hello, like a normal person would. I think we're best friends now.

Blog Of Note

My pal Steve is overseas in Japan teaching English.

He speaks very little Japanese, and, being a big American guy, really sticks out in a crowd over there.

I've really enjoyed reading about his Japanese escapades, and I hope you do too.

Check out his blog at http://walrusmobile.blogspot.com.

An Open Letter To Healthy Choice

Dear Healthy Choice,

I wasn't one of those children who ate paste in kindergarten, but your frozen chicken alfredo has helped me find out what it would have been like.

Sincerely,
Erika

A Show Of My Own

Everybody says, "I don't watch much TV," but from most, it's a lie.

I don't know why we say it. Maybe we believe it makes us sound more sophisticated, or perhaps we want people to think we have more interesting things to do than sit in front of the television. But the truth is, most of us spend a significant amount of time parked in front of the boob tube.

I say it, and I think I say it because when I watch TV, I only watch reruns, the news and movies on TV. (That last one, though, I don't really count, because if I watch a DVD, I don't count that as TV, so movies on TV shouldn't count either. Reruns on DVD are different, because they were originally TV shows, so I am still sort of watching TV. The point is, however you count it up, my butt is on the couch, and the set is on).

I used to have shows that were appointment viewing. Throughout college (and in spurts after, although not now) I watched or taped the soap Guiding Light every day. I watched Friends every single week. The summer I had cable, I watched Sex and the City. And for a time, I even got into Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed.

Lately, though, there just hasn't been anything I wanted to watch. I tried to get into Desperate Housewives, but it bored me, and despite the efforts of my Grey's Anatomy-loving roommate, I just couldn't get into it. Even if I could have gotten past my dislike of hospital shows, I don't think I could ever get past Sandra Oh's enormous head. She's a fine actress, but every time she's on the screen, all I can think of is, I wonder if that thing is heavy.

Another problem is that every time I get hooked on a new show, it gets cancelled or moves to a new night when I can't watch it. The Simpsons was off-limits for the longest time because I had piano lessons on Thursday nights, I lost Sex and the City when I cancelled my cable service and other shows simply did not last. The ABC one-season wonder My So-Called Life, an Aaron Spelling soap called Savannah and the short-lived WB show The Mountain all hooked me in and then disappeared. Why bother getting into a show if it was just going to be yanked as soon as I got into it?

Come to think of it, the only show I've watched for more than two seasons in prime time is Friends. I wonder if the networks have some sort of sensor on my TV that shows what I'm watching so they know when to pull something? If they do, then Lost fans have me to thank for the new episodes they are currently enjoying. I really wanted to see that one when it premiered, but I missed the first episode, so I figured I wouldn't bother.

Yet I'm really tired of only watching reruns. Hearing all of my friends go on about their favorite shows makes me feel a little jealous. While I'm still watching Friends and Sex and the City, my friends are watching episodes of new shows. They're learning new things about new characters, while I'm still hearing the same old folks say the same old lines I've heard a million times. They're having Grey's Anatomy parties, and I'm staying home for fear I'd go on a tirade about Sandra Oh's head and make everyone mad.

So this fall, I decided to get myself a show. It couldn't be a new season of an old show; I needed to get in on the ground floor of a brand new, wrapping-still-on show, watch it from the very beginning and fall in love with it. That way, a few years down the road, when someone said, "remember when this happened in the first season," I could say, "yes, I sure do." Granted, no show I've watched from the beginning has lasted more than a season or two, except for the two I had to stop watching because of schedule and cable issues, but there's always hope.

So two weeks ago, I sat myself down to watch the new NBC drama, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. It seemed like the perfect candidate. It stars Steven Weber of Wings fame (a show I watched only in reruns -- when I started watching the new episodes, the show was cancelled) and is about a comedy show, so it's bound to be funny sometimes, right? I've watched three episodes, and, well, I'm not wowed. It's not bad, but nothing much is happening yet. If I missed a week or two, I don't think it would matter much. I'm hanging on, though, to see if it gets better, and also because I am determined to have a show, whether I like it or not.

I have another show I'm going to try, The Nine. It stars Tim Daly (another from Wings), and it sounds a little more action-packed than Studio 60, so I have high hopes for it. So if I like it, sorry to anyone else who does, because it's not likely to last long.

Household Chores I Don't Mind Doing

1. Vacuuming, but only if the carpet looks dirty. My current carpet is that berber stuff that doesn't look any different when it's clean or dirty, so I get absolutely no satisfaction out of vacuuming it.

2. Cleaning the toilets. It's not like I enjoy it, but it doesn't take very long, and you don't actually have to stick your hand in there or anything.

3. Laundry. It's easy, and it's nice to have clean clothes, sheets and towels.

4. Cooking. I love to eat, so I ought to love to cook too. I tend to get a little messy sometimes, though, which is part of the reason why cleaning the kitchen is absent from this list.

5. Dusting. An easy way to make home look nice.

America Has Voted, And The Results Are Weird

They say, "if you don't vote, you can't complain about the results of an election," but does that apply when speaking about an election I hadn't heard about till after its conclusion?

The truth is, I have mixed feelings about the new Monopoly game, Monopoly Here and Now. I played it today with my fiance's brother, and although I had a fine time (and won by a lot, for the record), I really think Hasbro could have done better.

The idea behind the game was to remake Monopoly as they might if it were invented today. That means different properties and higher denominations of money. The former makes it interesting; the latter makes it annoying. It was much easier back in the day to buy Marvin Gardens for $280 than it is now to buy the Golden Gate Bridge for $2.8 million.

However, the way the makers chose the properties was even stranger. They named various landmarks in several cities across the United States and let people vote on what landmarks they wanted in the game. The more votes a landmark got, the better its spot on the board, and it was obvious that a few mayors were campaigning hard. New York's Times Square got the top spot at $4 million, previously occupied by Boardwalk. I can't argue too much with that; New York is an All-American city, and Times Square is one of its most famous spots.

But the Park Place spot from the original game is now occupied by Fenway Park. I have no problem with the place being in the game, but with such places as Hollywood, Disney World and The White House sharing the board, I was surprised that Fenway Park got next-to-top billing.

Obviously, the folks in Boston are as passionate about their board games as their ball games.

My other beef with the voting system is that the combinations of properties are sometimes a little strange. For example, The White House is grouped with Las Vegas Boulevard and Wrigley Field, because the number of votes those places received were close. In my humble opinion, properties should have been grouped by type, i.e. Wrigley Field with Fenway Park (sporting venues), Las Vegas Boulevard with the French Quarter (wild, crazy fun venues) and The White House with the Liberty Bell (historical American venues).

There were some fun additions too. The railroad spots are now occupied by four airports -- Chicago O'Hare, Los Angeles International, New York's John F. Kennedy and Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson. The utilities have been updated to internet service and cell phone service, and the "luxury tax" is now "credit card interest." (Touche, Monopoly). The Chance and Community Chest cards are basically the same, but the Get Out of Jail Free cards say things like, "receive a presidential pardon," and others reward you for appearing on a reality show or make you pay the other players because you lost a class action lawsuit.

Even the pieces have been modernized. I, for example, played with a serving of McDonald's fries, while my future brother-in-law chose a jetliner. Other options included a cup of Starbucks coffee, a laptop computer and a cell phone.

All in all, I enjoyed the game. I've always been a fan of Monopoly, and I hadn't played in years, so this was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I'm not sure I agree with America on its choices, but since I didn't care enough to vote, I suppose I can't complain.