Me: Making Your Netflix Experience Better

Don’t get too jealous, but I recently received an invitation to fill out a survey online regarding my experience with Netflix. I’d taken “quick” surveys before, asking on what day I received “Project Runway Season 1 Disc 2” and so forth, but this survey was serious: it was all about you, my friends. Part of it was easy: “Do you pay attention to Netflix’s taste-in-movies similarity rating?” (YES!!), but part was more challenging: “Are your Netflix friends close friends or casual acquaintances?” (most of them are people I’ve met in singles chatrooms who I coerce into adding me as a friend and then continuously recommend Fisher Stevens movies to them so...close friends!) Perhaps because I have “more than five” Netflix friends, and I answered “yes” to “Did you recently notice a change in the Friends homepage?”, Netflix asked me for further comments. I made sure to word my criticisms carefully, so they wouldn’t be offended when I mentioned the site’s inability to set default views, and praised the “streamlined” nature of the new design. I also requested an easy way to recommend movies to friends without having to think of witty notes to leave with them. Because what do you say, exactly, about Short Circuit 2?

That's right—I haven't posted in over a week and this is all I have to say

I’m following this Anna Nicole Smith baby fiasco verrrry carefully. Definitely more carefully than someone who subscribes to Harper’s and reads the NY Times every day should. And I have to say: I’m a little jealous of all the guys jumping up to say they’re AN’s baby daddy. I think that’s pretty much the ultimate sign of being a babe—you’re stupid, depressed, and have been known to marry for money, yet people still want to claim your child as their own. This is quite the opposite from today’s episode of Judge Hatchett, which I attended the taping of (if you look carefully you can see me 3 rows behind the defendant). In it, a woman claims that a man (her former ice cream truck driver) is the father of her 6 year-old child, but he doesn’t seem to remember sleeping with her at all. Needless to say, he WAS the father, unlike poor Howard K. Stern, who probably never did sleep with AN, even after their non–legally binding commitment ceremony.

Gross, huh?

I know you were hoping for a pic of me with my new glasses, but instead you're going to have to settle for this optical scan of my left retina. I paid 20 bucks per eye so I figure I better get my money's worth.

Tips for the Temp

Oh, I spent many a summer day temping away. It was really what instilled in me my sicko love of the office, from replacing the toner in the copier do flirting with middle aged married men with ties. So here's some tips for you, SB, for your upcoming gig (you'll get one soon!):


1. Learn how to make the coffee. First of all, it forces you to engage in nonthreatening conversation with a fellow employee. Secondly, it gives you something to do. Thirdly, people always like the person who made the coffee. And finally, you’ll have coffee.

2. Make friends with the ladies before the men (this tip is for women only). Because admin assistants can get very territorial over the guys they have flirtatious banter with, and you don’t want to unknowingly step on any toes.

3. Figure out who the stupidest person is, and ask that person questions that anyone could answer. Such as, “how do you work the fax machine?” The stupid person doesn’t get asked questions a lot and will like you for making him or her feel intellectually superior.

4. If you don’t have anything to do, continually ask if anyone needs any help. This will either keep you busy and away from the temptation of the internet, or make the person who hired you guilty for not keeping you entertained, and therefore sympathetic.

5. Bring a book. Just in case.

What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

An email conversation I had with a coworker today:

1:39 PM, me:
you've never heard of an LA-based band called "After-Midnight Project," have you?

1:48 PM, her:
No. why?

2:13 PM, me:
um, first you have to promise not to judge me for this answer

2:17 PM, her:
You know I can't promise that.

2:18 PM, me:
Damn it, ok, then I'm just going to have to hope you'll love me for it: One of the kids in that band is the son of the non–Paul Reiser dad in My Two Dads.

2:25 PM, her:
Oh, was his name joe or something? The artist. That guy was not only the hotter of the two dads, he was also hot for tv dads in general. Was that show a tv adaptation of three men and a baby? This may sound sick, but I always knew stacey keenan liked that dad better, mostly b/c paul reiser was a whiny douchebag, but also because the artist dad was sexy.

2:26 PM, me:
yeah that's why when she finally got a paternity test she tore it up without looking. cuz she knew if she got caught with paul reiser for the rest of her life she'd be so pissed at herself.