So Long, Goodbye, To You My Friend

Brutality, desperation, pain all in the name of football. It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to Team USA from the world cup. The first of two already fallen heroes of my personal collection of favorites (adios República Checa). Beasley and the boys could not pull a win or catch a break from the Football Gods and most importantly the incompetent referee. Even with the help of the oh so beautiful Italian team, the good old red white and blue is now packing their bags and saying auf wiedersehen to the best, albeit cruel, competition in the world.

As I pick myself up off the floor, where I lay crouched in the fetal position after today’s loss, I ask that we all take a moment of silence here, to honor the great team known as Team Beasley USA. Alright, PLAY BALL!!!

Buildings, Like People, Have a Low Heat Tolerance Too

After months of rain and chilly temperatures, uncommon for the Sunshine State, the California heat has finally started to kick in as witness by this week’s heat wave. Temperatures soaring to the 90s even the 100s, in some inland locations, have been witness on several thermometers sending Californians into panic as they all chant in unison “It’s getting hot in hurr,” while they stock up on bottles of Voss water and personal cooling systems. Old people and children have been advised to stay cool and keep hydrated in order to prevent heat stroke and other heat related diseases such as being really pissed off and annoyed at everything.

This heated silent threat, however, has been affecting some of the most vulnerable yet unnoticed Californians, Californians such as my office building that is feeling the pain of the heat. An office wide communication was sent out earlier today as a preemptive defense against the blasting California heat that rivals the temperature of Mars. The alert is posted below, as issued by the building management via our receptionist. Please note that this email has in no way shape or form been altered for entertainment purposes, it is “as is” with the name removed for anonymity (and liable charges).

“XXX XXXXXX, our building supervisor, has informed me, that today’s temperature is expected to reach 107 degrees outside. This building’s system is designed to handle temperatures up to 90 degrees. He suggests we keep the blinds closed to help keep cool.”

Yes, the suspicions are correct…buildings, like people, can’t take the heat. As a result, this building has decided to cave in and quite possibly malfunction once the mercury rises to 91 degrees.

Perhaps it is the years of extreme California temperatures that have wrecked havoc on this building and this is why there is no love in the elevators thus causing them to rattle when you ride them or to get suck in between floors. Or perhaps it is the heat that is why the emergency door handles to exit the stairs fall off leaving you stranded in the stairwell. Or maybe it is the heat that causes all the building specific power outages and resulting non-AC so that you are sitting in a forced team brainstorm in not much else but a cami and slacks pulled up as if they were shorts.

Or maybe, just maybe, it moves beyond the heat and this building is just (peering over my shoulder) ghetto. There I said it! 90 degress, COME ON, this is California not Antartica it gets to 90 all the time from June-September so i am just failing to understand here. I will be glad to say good-bye to this joint come June.

I guess, I will have to sit and wait it out to see what happens. Thank God I wore my “its so hot today and I can’t think” skirt today. Until then, I will take the stairs, have a pair of pliers with me so that I can open the “emergency” stairwell door and hope for the best. And building, just so you know, unlike Easy-E I won’t mourn you till I join you (although the location I will mourn…and Cascals too, so good).

The World Cup, Part II

Mexico, USA…it’s go time! As two of my favorite World Cup teams face either elimination or passage into the Sweet 16 (I am borrowing this term from basketball since I have no idea what the English term for this upcoming round is…Spanish, yes. Portuguese, yes. German, probably. English, no. Ironic since English is my first language…digress) I cannot help but reflect upon where we went wrong, where we went right and what will happen on Wednesday and Thursday.

While I will not bore you with my nervous detailed chatter and outcome predictions (I have Vicky Bee on speed dial thank God) I will say this…we will not fall silently into the night, for tonight (more specifically, Wednesday and Thursday night) is World Cup time!!!! Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap Clap GO QUAKES MEXICO & US!!!!!

Open Letter to Britney Spears

Dear Britney,

Britney, I tried to stick by you I really did. But after tonight’s Matt Lauer interview, I just don’t think I have even an ounce left in me to even give you any street cred.

Cheetos are not your friend. I understand that you are pregnant and that this is your second child, but for the love of God. Look at the likes of Gwen, Catherine Zeta Jones, Angelina, SJP, my sister…they all rock the fabulous duds while being knocked up. They make it have a certain dignity to it, while you give the whole barefoot and pregnant a whole new meaning. Well okay, not so barefoot since you insist on wearing those HIDIOUSLY glorified platform flip-flops you probably call your “cute sandals” ugh.

Instead of supporting that free loading flee infested hoe bag of a husband of yours maybe you should be putting those funds into a good colorist, an even better make up artist and the best stylist you can find. No one likes to see a pop princess looking like a run down chubby Courtney Love. Especially not me.

You should also consider hiring a new publicist and a media trainer. Your eloquence baffles me, I am in awe of such Pulitzer worthy phrases such as “we’re country.” Yes, yes I guess we are a little country every now and again, but you are on Dateline not Texas Justice, please act accordingly.

Lastly, just dump K-Fed and cut your loses. Just get out before he accrues any more interest, err, alimony. While I do not discredit karma at work here for scamming on a baby daddy while the baby mama was preggers, you have somewhat paid for your mistakes and we ALL need to move on. Please, let us all move on without the Fed.

We all love pop princesses and, admittedly, you were the best around. You are one helluva entertainer and an even better hit maker and, I think I speak for all when I say, we long for more maufactured goodness from you.

Sincerely,
A to the n-gee

The Problem With Rap...

I was at dinner with an old friend of mine recently, catching up and having a dandy old time as old friends do. As part of this ritualistic catch up the subject turned from work, to football, to music to which I immediately expressed my disdain for most rap. He quickly reminded me that when we first met, close to a decade ago, I was all about the rap.

Blasts, he was right, I was all about the rap. However, somewhere around the corner of Gettingoldville and Workingfortheman St., I lost my way a little and now scoff and the “nonsense” that is rap. Then I started to think, hey I still love rap...back in the day kind rap, the kind of rap dubbed “old school” by a generation of myspacers with baggy pants and allowances.

So what happened? Where did rap turn so wrong? Below my assessment of the problem with nouveau rap from the rappers, the music to the style.

THE PLAYAS:
Old School Rap:
You can’t beat people like Biggie, Tupac, Snoop…I would love to see the likes of Chingy throw down in a break-dance fight with Tupac. Pac would kick your ass Chingy.

I would like to even take it a bit further to the days of NWA, “Straight Outta Compton” changed my life, or at least it bugged my parents and for a child that is life changing.

New School Rap:
It is just too faux hard core. Does injustice and racial inequality still exist? Yes, but I don’t see how droppin it like its hot is going to help. I will say, I have mad love for pop rappers such as Nelly and Kanye, their tantalizing tunes are ALWAYS good, poppy kinda good and I love pop.

Exception:
Rappers with staying power are also exempt since they will always be hard and always be cool…Jay-Z, Lil’ Kim and Eminem, I am talking about you (although I would consider Jay-Z and Lil’ Kim in the newer old school category)

THE SONGS:
Old School Rap:
Songs like "F*** The Police" by NWA and "California Love" by Tupac, I mean THOSE were the songs that meant something.

New School Rap:
Um, I can’t even understand what any of these rappers are saying. It’s like this jarbaled ebonix, and for someone fluent in the language, I just can’t comprehend.

Exception:
Kanye West’s “Drive Slow” cause that song is da BOMB (see ebonix fluent)! I play it when I want to feel exceptionally hard yet passively aggressively intimidating (you get the same effect if you cruise in an old school Cadillac).

THE DRESS:
Old School Rap:
Rappers in this genre would NEVER be caught dead in the likes of Armani or Gucci. If anything, an ill fitting pinstripe suit may be used for the “Mafioso” effect such as the Notorious BIG cover where he is sitting on a king's throne. Baggy pants, xxxl shirts, pumas and addias were all the order of the day. I still rock my pumas with slacks as a quasi f-u to the man (granted we have a causual dress code so i don't think the effect is the same).

New School Rap:
Not only do these boys have a fashion collection that would rival the likes of Lidnsay Lohan and Imelda Marcos, but they even design and market their own high end fashion duds. Puffy Diddy Sean Combs is just one example of a rapper who has turned into the man. Here I thought we were trying to bring down the man not turn into the man.

I guess this explains the preference of rap among most young professional men I know. Further, I find the more successful they are, the more they are into hardcore rap…ironic, dontcha think?

Exception:
Kanye West. Okay this is not an exception, the man dresses straight country club prep and I think it deserves its own shout out. Easy-E would turn over in his grave watching Kanye fit right in with the golf types. Mourn you till I join you E.

Point/Counterpoint: Paris Hilton

It’s Not That Bad of a Song vs. Anything Paris Hilton Does is Crap

With all of this world cup excitement going on, I think we are all a little guilty of overlooking another earth moving (or shattering depending on how you see it) moment…the “drop,” as the kids say it, of Paris Hilton’s debut music single “Stars Are Blind.” I don’t know if you had had a chance to check it out or not (lordeh knows I have made anyone within my ear shot listen to it) or what your feeling on the matter are; but for me, I am a little torn. On one end I kinda dig on its catchy tune, on the other end I am a card carrying member of Team Anti Hilton. This “torness” can only mean one thing, the initiation of Point/Counterpoint

Point:
It’s Not That Bad of a Song

Okay, there is something I just dig about the song. It reminds me of the good old days of poppy N’Sync and Britney Spears (pre K-Fed and Cheeto encrusted finger nails) and I just can’t get enough. The hook is catchy, the beat reminds me of a Sandals commercial and all around it is just a good time. Lyrics like "Baby, I am perfect for you," I mean that is the kind of stuff I would text funding boy during sappy moments, which can only translate into pop gold! Sometimes I even wake up with the song in my head, and I go around singing it all day. It can’t be that bad right?

Counterpoint:
Anything Paris Hilton Does is Crap

Wrong, dude, it is a Paris Hilton song and I just can’t look beyond that. There are plenty of beotches who plague my iPod (Li-Lo and Ashley Simpson both take up some of those valuable megs). But Paris Hilton?!?! PARIS HILTON?!?!. As far as I am concerned Paris Hilton has the appeal of…oh God, she has the appeal of nothing. I am not one to pass a good pop song, I would even buy a Nicole Ritchie song if it were good, but there will be no nights or singles in Paris for me. While the stars may all be blind, they certainly aren't def, and you my dear are crap.

So You Wanna Be A Football Fan?

Football, Futbol, Fußball, Calicio, Soccer; in any language in any country, what a beautiful sport it is. The passion, the determination, the hot men, what else is there to love? As a football aficionado I have often been asked why I adore this sport, nay, way of life so much and all I have to say is that it is the best game in the world. And while football is one of those sports that you either love or don’t love (and most of the world thank god loves it), there is no way to really explain in than by letting you in on the mind of a true football fanatic.

For those of you who have always wondered what it took to love the black and white ball, here is your chance…an interview to get inside the most brilliant, if not coolest, minds on the face of the earth…inside the minds of hard-core football fans. On with the show…

1. Who do you think will win the world cup?
   Vicky Bee: Portugal or US of course
   Juless123: USA (yeah right)
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Brazil………….6th
   Sergeane Monero: Trinidad and Tobago
   Nellybellly: I am hoping for Mexico for finally fucking take it!
   A to the n-gee: I am going to have to say Mexico, and while I say it every four years, I really feel it this time around (I know I say that every four years as well)
   
   
2. If you won a “follow your team” package, who would you follow?
   Vicky Bee: Portugal or US
   Juless123: U-S-A!!!
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Brazil
   Sergeane Monero: Togo because I think they are strongest African team in the world cup.
   Nellybellly: Dude Mexico def. If not then the USA
   A to the n-gee: Mexico, Brasil or USA
   
   
3. Where do you like to watch games and why?
   Vicky Bee: Anywhere with a big tv where I can be myself (obnoxious, anxious, loud, etc)
   Juless123: At the sporting event. Tailgates, free crap, decent seats! 2nd option, a sports pub with a huge flatscreen, i.e. Britannia arms with at least 5 people, don’t ask me why.
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Anywhere w/ friends and family
   Sergeane Monero: At home, on the couch because I can scream and shout without disturbing anyone…plus I can do chores at halftime, like laundry.
   Nellybellly: My tv because I have HD
   A to the n-gee: At the stadium, so that I can yell things like “look alive” or “clean game” to an actual audience not just the TV. If the stadium is not an option, anywhere that has high-def.
   
   
4. Do you have any rituals before key games?
   Vicky Bee: Besides being nervous……donning riot gear is always a must.
   Juless123: Listening to Whitesnake, AC/DC, RICKY MARTIN!!!
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Wear long pants b/c I usually injure myself due to being a nervous wreck during penalty kicks....actually any kicks……love this game!
   Sergeane Monero: Yes, I don’t predict who will be the winner because it will jinx the team I are rooting for.
   Nellybellly: Pray. LOL no seriously I pray
   A to the n-gee: Putting on my riot gear and prayer is always good
   
   
5. Who, besides DeMarcus Beasley, do you consider the best footballer?
   Vicky Bee: Cristiano Ronaldo by far is the best looking…..wait you said best….
   Juless123: On the world stage? Are we going based on heart crushes? TODDD!!! Okay no, how ‘bout Ronaldo, did I spell that right?
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Zidane_Zinedine....full of class!!! Sorry gang!
   Sergeane Monero: Ronaldinho…..but best looking Nicholas Anelka or Cristiano Ronaldo…althought Ronaldo has Anelka beat hands down in the looks category.
   Nellybellly: Rohnaldino from Brazil.
   A to the n-gee: As far as I am concerned the world starts and ends with the Bease.
   
   
6. What would be your dream game to attend at any world cup?
   Vicky Bee: Portugal vs. Brasil………Brasil losing 3-0.
   Juless123: USA vs. Brazil
   REAL SSSSSSSS: Brazil vs. Portugal…….I think it would be an interesting experience!!!!!!!
   Sergeane Monero: Spain vs. anyone for the simple fact that they are true eye candy.
   Nellybellly: Any Mexico game.
   A to the n-gee: Mexico vs. USA with Mexico winning 6-5 during shoot-outs
   
   
7. What is the best World Cup song to date?
   Vicky Bee: Um…..huhlo…….the only song as far as I’m concerned……La Copa De La Vida…Oye Ricky!
   Juless123: Do you EVEN have to ASK?!?! ’98 baby, it’s all about ’98.
   REAL SSSSSSSS: La Vida Loca
   Sergeane Monero: Not very familiar with songs.
   Nellybellly: Shoot Ricky Martin dude! Hands down.
   A to the n-gee: I think we all can agree that the Cup of Life/La Copa De La Vida is more than a song, it is an institution
   
   
8. Is there any sport better than soccer? (note: if you say yes, we can no longer be friends)
   Vicky Bee: Hell to the naw
   Juless123: I am your friend = that’s a HELL No.
   REAL SSSSSSSS: noooooo.....in any language!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's a beautiful game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So excited....I am also supporting Czechs, Portugal, & Mexico..............
   Sergeane Monero: No…where can you see such physically fit men.
   Nellybellly: Not better but I am a total fan of American Football. GO NINERS!!!!
   A to the n-gee: There are other sports?
   
   
9. Who has the cutest warm ups?
   Vicky Bee: I have to say…..toss up between the US and Argentina
   Juless123: Please see above answers. I’m biased, what can I say.
   REAL SSSSSSSS: France...only b/c of zz
   Sergeane Monero: LOL….
   Nellybellly: I couldn't say
   A to the n-gee: Team USA has some pretty fly ones
   

So there you have it, I hope you feel enlightened and go watch a game (or 20).

The World Cup, Part I

My dear readers, the moment we have all been waiting for is here…the World Cup!!! And while I did not get tickets to this grand event regardless of applying continuously (thanks Germany for allocating tickets to the US, bra-vo) I still will embrace this event as if I were there...celebrating, crying, yelling and having panic attacks all in the name of football.

When it is all said and done with and we celebrate victorious whomever is named the next world champion (fake sneeze: Mexico) I will be there holding my proverbial flag up high singing we are the champions, my dear especial friends, cause we kept on fighting till the end…unless of course I die of a heart attack which is completely plausible during key games.

VIVA LE WORLD COPO (I am so international)

The Walk-Off

It was recently announced at my work that we had acquired another agency and were going to be moving to their digs…new digs that for me personally are about another 20 miles away from my home but whatever.

All earth damaging commute effects aside, I was actually pretty excited on this announcement as it means a bigger office which in turn means bigger clients which in turn means bigger budgets which in turn ultimately means I get allocated a functioning computer that is not taken out of a 1980s elementary school and the use of a working elevator…sweet.

In ode to this announcement, our newly acquired office hosted an engagement party of sorts where we all celebrated the new couple, toasting and cheering as the collective embark through the matrimony of becoming one super agency or -- if we continue on my wedding analogy -- the Bradgelina of agencies (granted they are not married, but I think you would agree with my analogy, non?). Further analogous yet necessary details I should share...I feel that acquiring agency is the future husband as represented by the fact that A) we did nothing to plan the event, just showed up to eat and drink B) we expect our newly acquired “wife” to acclimate to our way of doing things since we “acquired" and C) the need to explain our “wearing of the pants” as further represented by this entire post.

Being that this was the event of the communications century, it was natural that we had donned our Thursday best in this meet and greet of communication powerhouses. And for an office that has made the word casual dress a way of life instead of a only on Fridays attire, trust me we looked fantastic. However, the spiffy dress seemed a little too natural for all the sister/brother wives and I began to get the sneaking suspicion that maybe we were left out of the fashionable memo.

Dramatization (names and conversation have been changed to fit the screen)
A to the n-gee: Hey, it was great to see you, fabulous office
Former colleague, turned future colleague: It was good to see you too
A to the n-gee: Question, I noticed everyone was dressed up in the office, is there a dress code?
Former colleague turned future colleague: Yes, but we do have dress down Friday’s
A to the n-gee: OMG, tell me your kidding, I live in my flip flops in the summer time
Former colleague, turned future colleague: Well you can wear flip flops on Fridays. Jeans are discouraged but sometimes people dress them up during the week
A to the n-gee: Interesting, I was told our dress code would not change
Former colleague, turned future colleague: Well maybe when you guys get here the code will change, but they do like you to dress business casual
A to the n-gee: So what your telling me is that it is a walk-off
Former colleague, turned future colleague: ?
A to the n-gee: it’s a walk off!!!
Former colleague, turned future colleague: Logged off at 1:23 pm

WHAT? Now I don’t know about you, but doesn’t this go against everything an acquisition stands for? Now, I am not going to say I know all there is about the glorious world of mergers and acquisitions, but after watching funding boy in action a time or two, I would say I think I know enough to know that if we acquire it pretty much means its our way or the highway, right?

Am I supposed to shelve my pumas and flip-flops and dust off my Miu Mius and Choos just so that I can have the look of success 24/7 and not just when the guys that pay the bills are in the office? What is it about clothes that require pressing and shoes that require practice that would make one more successful in their job anyway?

In true territorial fashion, sans the pee to mark territory bit, we (the sister/brother husbands herein just referred to as “we”) are planning to stage a walk-off, old school rules apply, to see who wins the battle of the dress code. While I know that we should move on and dress the part (hey it might even be a great boost to our self esteem to sport the look of success), we just can’t move on and now seemed embodied in a bitter “we wear the pants in this relationship” battle that we are the only ones privy to, and by we I mean the few sister/brother husbands that live by the code of the flops.

Henry David Thoreau once said, “Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes”, amen brother, amen. I would just like to add “or any enterprise that requires that your ‘going to bars’ shoes double as work shoes”. May the better flops, uhh shoes, win.

How To Become a Lady who Lunches

On my way to Draegers to get lunch today, I ran across the plethora of carefree women enjoying their spinach salads and diet cokes...women that are the staple of Bay Area living at is finest. These women -- all sitting, laughing, enjoying the beautiful weather together who do not have a care in the world-- are simply known as the Ladies Who Lunch (LWL).

As I scurried back to my car rushed to get back to work, I pondered how these women were so carefree and how could I be a part of it? You have to hand it to them, sitting there in front of that deli eating their gourmet south beach approved salads while their nannies tend to the children, no work, no worries…it could be a life that I can get accustom to.

After years of working in the Palo Alto/Los Altos area and having to endure a many a run in with these mystical creatures, I think I have finally broken the code on how to become part of this secret society.

Below, my take on how to become part of the LWL.

1. Marry rich or be born rich, then marry rich. There are no if ands or buts about it. Lauren by Ralph Lauren, Pottery Barn and daily nonfat lattes don’t come cheap and if you intend not to work you need to have a financial backer, or as my boyfriend would say “funding.” The caveat, you have to start shopping at stores like Ralph Lauren and Pottery Barn exclusively.
   
2. Quit your job. Planning the wedding is always a good excuse to quit your job due to being “overwhelmed” with the matrimonial plans. Then continue your state of unemployment under the guise of “trying to get pregnant.” You can hide your BC pills in a drawer ala Nicki in Big Love if you want to buy some time.
   
3. Have two to three kids. Kids are the key ingredient to becoming a LWL. Names like Tyler, Emma, Bethany or Porter are good. You could also take the celebrity route and name your kids after random crap like fruit (is Kiwi taken by anyone?). Names like Chuck, Billy Bob or Tankeray are bad, very bad.
   
4. Get a nanny. A nanny who speaks a language other than English is good, a nanny who speaks a language other than English that you cannot understand is better, a nanny who speaks to your child/children in a language other than English that you cannot understand but they can is best.
   
5. You have to be willing to spend time in an outdoor coffee shop discussing the latest and greatest in feel good books. Once, while waiting for my own funded nonfat latte, I overheard an animated LWL on the divine secrets of the ya ya sisterhood. I am not sure if those ya yas were really that divine or not (maybe Dr. Reys would approve), all I know is that those ladies were drop dead serious in formation of their own sisterhood.
   
6. Groom early and groom often. The perfectly pressed kahki shorts and polos, immaculate ponytails, and well placed “day” makeup regardless of the time of day are essential to get the look of a LWL.
   
7. Own one or more of the following branded hang bags…Dooney Bourke, Kate Spade, Coach and of course LV…the ultimate look of LWL wealth. Special props to anyone sporting the beloved Murakami bag as a diaper bag...very SJP of you.
   
8. Belong to a charity board, particularly a board that gets its fundraising parties featured in San Francisco Magazine or 7x7. I hear the foundation for the beautification of downtown Los Altos is looking for applicants.

With these tools in hand you are on your way to becoming a certified Cayenne driving, house in the hills LWL and leaving behind the littleness that is work...see you at Draegers.