My Parents are accused of being 'The Rude'

Every time my parents visit me, I find myself doing things a true New Yorker doesn't do: walking 4 across on the sidewalk, talking loudly, slowly shuffling down the street or through stores, and using the crosswalk. A few weeks ago when they were here, we went to the local fruit vendor to but some snacks and fruit to have around. My sister and I lounged by the register while my parents counted cash and coins, handed them over, then decided they had forgotten something and restarted the process. The woman behind us began muttering under her breath, shifting her weight in the "I'm so annoyed I can't believe I'm behind these people" dance.

After my parents were finally done with their transaction, we gathered the bags and ambled through the door. The woman pushed around us, muttering about the perils of under-staffing. My dad thought she was talking to him, so he pleasantly tried to banter with her about the weather. She wasn't interested. She burst ahead of us, yelling, "go back to where you came from!"

Now, I'm no fan of tourists or tourist behavior, but really, I don't thing my parents were The Rude in this instance.

Why Women Love Shoes

So I'm trying to figure out what to wear for a second job interview. I've gained a few pounds since Matt and I started dating, so I can't wear any of my pants. And shopping today was unsuccessful. I hate shopping for pants. I hate shopping when I'm feeling fat. But you know what's always fun to shop for? Shoes.
I've been a size 7 since I was maybe 14. And no matter how my weight fluctuates, I'm still a size 7. I have 3 sizes of clothing: skinny, normal, and fat. But shoes? One size. This is why women love shoes and shoe-shopping. It's because unlike your pants or your skirts, your shoes will always fit.

Party over here, party over there...

My 89 year-old grandmother, my Bubbie, is one of my favorite people in the world. Recently, she reminded me why.

Matt's birthday was December 30th. They met when he came to Kansas City with me for Labor Day weekend and since he's not only my boyfriend, but is very sweet (!), a lawyer (!!) and Jewish (!!!), she lurves him. Bubbie wanted to do something nice for Matt's birthday--she wasn't sure she should send a gift, but wanted to send something nicer than just a card. Her compromise? Sending a musical card.

"Word Up!" the song from the card, has been cracking us up for the last few days, but the song wasn't the best part of the card. No, that would have to be the front text.

"Party over here, party over there," the card read, "Party in your underwear!"