Naked in Times Square

Not me, of course. That would be the stuff of a terrifyingly horrible nightmare. But this guy ... it's his living.

I've heard about the Naked Cowboy, and I've seen pictures of him, but this was the first time I've seen him with my own eyes.

Flexing his ... muscles

But this guy is more than just a mostly naked, good-looking man wandering Times Square. He's a business man. He's a musician. He's a legend. He's a ... what? What song was he playing when I passed him today?

Uh, couldn't tell you ... but who really cares?

I put myself to shame

I'm sitting here at 4:30 a.m. on a Friday ni ... uh, Saturday morning ... reading old blog posts from nearly two years ago. Like this one about how to get free Starbucks. Or this one that unknowingly predicted the future. Or my theory on snow globes. I forgot I said some of that stuff. But you know what I noticed? I put myself to shame! In 2008, I posted 77 blog posts. In 2009, 75 blog posts. So far this year? Thirty-two. Not even half and we're nearly three-quarters of the way through the year.

I've got some catching up to do...

I don't drink.

My husband today sent me this article written by a woman who doesn't drink. And yes, by drink, we're talking alcohol. The title of the article is "My not drinking bothers friends," and I was immediately interested. See, I don't drink either. At least, not much. But I find that often in social situations, I feel weird about drinking a Coke, or just water. Although to be honest, it's probably more my issue than my friends' issue. I'm the one who's self-conscious. I can't even have dinner at a nice Italian restaurant without feeling weird that we're the only ones without wine. Why is it SO taboo to NOT be a drinker?

There's a great line in the article where someone asks the writer's husband (who also doesn't drink) why he's not having an adult beverage. His reply: "Listen, I'm a 30-year-old man. Whatever I'm drinking is an adult beverage." I love that.

The writer, who used to drink, quit because she didn't like where it was taking her. My excuses are a little different:

1) I don't like it. Plain and simple. I don't have a problem if you want to drink, go right ahead. But I just don't like the taste of it. I'd much rather spend my hard-earned cash on a Coke than a Cosmo, Corona, or Cognac. (And why ruin a perfectly good Coca Cola with Jack?) Sure, there are times where I feel like indulging, and I do, but it most likely involves a mojito or something peach. And just one.

2) Ignorance. I wouldn't know the difference between a Fuzzy Navel and a Sex on the Beach. All those bottles on the back of the bar look nice, but I have no idea what's in them, and my will to learn is nearly nonexistent.

So there you have it. I don't drink. At least, not much. So next time you're taking me out to dinner (see what I did there?), be glad I'm a cheap date!

The lost months

I have issues remember things on, in, or about August and September. (Apparently, I also forgot to blog for most of August.)

Seriously. I can't remember what number corresponds with those months (5, easy, May, 10, easy, October) and I literally have to count them out to remember that August and September are 8 and 9. I also have a terrible time remembering dates in those months, particularly birthdays. I'm really good at remembering birthdays in any other month, but if you were born in August or September, I'm just going to apologize now, because I'm going to forget. I might remember that you were born in August or September, but I'll have no idea on the day. Or maybe I could guess within three days on either side...

I don't know what it is about those months, but they just don't stick for me. Anybody else feel this way about August and September? Or any other months? Or am I completely off my rocker? (Don't answer that.)