I was told this is "classic Texas"

I've been reading up on Ike and trying to figure out how much wine I'm going to have to buy to make it through the next few days. I stumbled upon this article via Fark, which had this gem of a quote:

"If the island is going to disappear it has to be a tsunami," he said, as he walked along the block where his home is located, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. "If it ain't your time you ain't going anywhere."

I read that aloud to my coworkers, who deemed that "classic Texas". One said that people like that drive her crazy, and I had to break it to her that almost all Jerseyans think Texans talk that way!

Bringing back some Italian hand guestures

One of my favorite book series are the books about Stephanie Plum, a character created by Janet Evanovich. Stephanie Plum is a true Jersey girl, and she often refers to the hand signals notoriously made by New Jersey drivers as "Italian hand gestures". I'm famous for them. Really.

Let's go to the third person for this story. I just think it'll make it more interesting, plus things are always cooler when you talk about yourself in the third person.

We catch up to our heroine, the lovely Vespa rider as she ignores yet another group of men yelling "hey girl" out their car windows. She drives past a construction site and again marvels that men still believe that whistling actually has any effect at all. The gorgeous rider heads down Greenville, cursing under breath at the minivans coasting along at 5 MPH (It's my story, and I can exaggerate what I want.)

She expertly takes a right turn, ignoring the one rogue minivan driver attempting to go 60 down a side street. The light in front of her is red, of course. When riding a Vespa, lights are always red, especially when it's raining, scorching hot or when our heroine is starving.

Today she is starving AND boiling.

Green light. Signaling like any good scooter driver, she advances into the intersection and waits for oncoming cars to pass so she can turn left. This being Dallas, it involves watching one near rear-ending, one person choosing to turn right from the left lane and one car clearing the intersection at about 90 MPH. During all this activity, she hears a honk.

And another honk.

And a lean on the horn oh my lord my wife is having a baby get out of the way honk.

She turns around and sees the mini van driver from before glaring at her, gesturing her to turn left in front of the 90 MPH deathmobile.

Our heroine, ever the cool, calm and collected, waits her turn and turns left.

And drives off into the scorching sunset, middle finger raised in the air.

The trouble with MLB.tv

To start, I guess I should confess something. I am a huge Yankee fan. I know, I know, they're the evil empire, I'm such a frontrunner, etc. I've heard it all. I've also been a fan forever, just like any good Jersey girl. I can remember the 1996 World Series vividly, sitting about 5 inches away from our 12" TV in the kitchen (why I wasn't in the living room, I'll never know) absolutely convinced that Derek Jeter was my soul mate.

Was! Not is! I swear!

Anyway, after moving to Texas, I realized that I couldn't make it the rest of the season without the ability to watch my boys play ball. Not only that, but the Yankees were playing horribly, and when I watch, they win. Therefore, for the good of the team (and with some persuasion from my Red Sox fan boyfriend), we got MLB.tv.

It sucks.

The audio cuts in and out. The high quality video doesn't work and the low quality skips. It constantly says we're logged in on multiple machines. I even broke down tonight and called technical support. They recommended I empty my trash. What?!

That's not the biggest issue. As a marketing geek, I grimace every time there's what MLB calls a "break in the action", a time when cable stations are showing commercials to pay the bills. MLB.tv splits this time 3 ways:

1. Inanely repetitive commercials for the MLB.com store with horribly messed up audio levels
2. Inanely repetitive commercials for Sony starring a Dane Cook lookalike and a scary pale physics professor
3. A graphic that for some reason says "Break in the action", superimposed over the text "134 RBI", which I imagine must be some magic number in the mind of MLB.

I know this is a paid service and MLB might get some flack for selling commercials, but what if those spots had a significant effect on the price of the service? Not only that, but when I subscribed I handed over all sorts of demographic info - info that certainly showed that I'm not in the market for a Sony TV sold by Professor Creepy. Why not put up ads that are targeted to me?

Fine, fine. If MLB wants to avoid the whole paid advertising during a paid service issue, at least put some highlights or anything with audio in there. The same Sony ad 3 times in a row followed by a jarring silence for 45 seconds or more is really throwing me (and thus, the Yankees) off our game.

What's your solution to the MLB.tv quandary?

Long Weekends and Funny Signs

First, this was the sign on an ATM in Jersey. Check out the fine print on the bottom. Looks like they're sorry for more than just not taking deposits! Courtesy of my mom, her cameraphone and some LOLcat building fun:



Thank you, New Jersey. Even when I'm over a thousand miles away, you never cease to amuse me.

My boyfriend and I are taking a day trip out to Fort Worth this weekend for some good 'ol fried pickles and honky tonk country music. I can't believe I just said that!

A Gift from HARO!

I just got my HARO (Help A Reporter Out) shirt and it's awesome:



It came in probably the first hand-addressed envelope I've gotten so far at work!

To all my PR-type and journalist friends (that's right, I swing both ways...friend-wise) make sure you check out HARO. Journalists can submit pitches and PR pros can find out who needs what. We've already pitched a few articles about the museum, and HARO has been a great resource!

(Reminder: make sure you vote for the Hot Blogger Calendar!)

(Reminder #2: follow me on Twitter: @agardina)

Traffic's like a cattle drive

Granted, I've never actually witnessed a cattle drive. But, I have seen a cow, which puts me ahead of a lot of my fellow Jerseyans. And the most recent cow I saw was at Visions on Friday night (that's right - there was a cow at a women's expo. Don't question it, this is Texas.)

Before I get too into the weirdness that is cows at a trade show, let me lasso this one back on topic. I'm a Jersey driver. I scare my Connecticut and Upstate New York friends with my constant honking, Italian one finger saluting, cursing self. I've driven to Boston in rush hour, something I will never EVER do again. I've had several near-death experiences as a passenger in New York City - in a cab, in a van and (perhaps worst of all) with my mother (just kidding, Mom!)

Therefore, I consider myself an expert on bad driving. Bennys (tourists to the Jersey Shore from Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark and New York) are classic examples: running stop signs, turning right from the left lane, I've seen it all.

Then I moved to Dallas.

People here are out for blood. They drive crazy, they own guns and they tailgate you at 80 MPH in giant Ford pickups on monster truck wheels. Route 75, the highway that runs north/south, is so insane during rush hour (which goes from 6 AM until 4 AM as far as I've seen) that I find myself wishing for the relative sanity of the Parkway South on Fridays in the summer.

Let's review some traffic laws that Dallas drivers have decided are optional. Red lights don't really mean stop if you were anywhere in the vicinity when they were yellow. Signaling from turns, heck, even being in the correct LANE for turns is considered a sign of weakness. Nodding in the general direction of stop signs is just as good as actually stopping.

Luckily, these drivers seem to be confused by my little Vespa and me. They keep their distance (or pull up next to me and catcall), and for that I'm grateful. Nevertheless, I'm still not afraid to honk or yell - even if I am on a scooter.

Hot Blogger Calendar

I'm not sure how this happened, but I managed to get myself nominated for the Hot Blogger Calendar. And, since I work in marketing, I'm no stranger to shameless self promotion. Thus, in order for you all (y'all?) to make an educated decision, here's a picture of me in all of my glory (granted this was taken during a vacation in Hawaii when I was tan, relaxed and full of pina coladas, but it's a close approximation)



Now you can all go off and make informed decisions! (And if you're still feeling confident about your decision, vote here!)

I'm really in a pickle

(Note to new readers: I love bad puns)

I've noticed this odd trend in Texas. Everywhere I go, there seem to be pickles for sale. Not in jars, not on sandwiches, just a big vat of pickles for the sellin'. Movie theatres, 7-11s, they all have pickles placed in the same prominence as other big sellers like popcorn and lottery tickets.

Always eager to point out that I really don't know what's going on in Texas, I decided to ask my co-workers about this pickle fascination. The response? "What fascination? Don't you love pickles too?"

Now I'm not one to make fun of another culture's culinary decisions (and if you don't think Texas is a completely different culture from Jersey, visit both and compare). However, this pickle thing is a little too much for me. Apparently Texans have decided that popcorn + a pickle is an ideal movie snack. When lounging at home on a Saturday night, a pickle + Cheetos is a great snack, and a pickle by itself is a... treat?

I find myself, again, in this North/South pickle (I had to do it). So I ask you, dear readers, should I take the plunge and embrace my inner pickle-loving Texan, or should I stay true to my Jersey roots and save it for the sub?

Best Headline Ever Award

Just a quick post to award the "Best Headline Ever" award to CNN:

McCain Roach Wins in Landslide

I just also have to point out that this race apparently took place in Jersey, so a big shoutout to my home state - you sure know how to pick 'em!

Adventures in Unsocialized Medicine

When I was studying abroad in London, I had some fun experiences with socialized medicine (that later led to 4 weeks in a foot brace, but that's another story). I'm not a hypochondriac, I'm not plagued by terrible medical maladies (thank goodness), but I am pretty clumsy and pretty.. well, clumsy pretty well covers it.

I also haven't had a physical in 5 years (switching insurance companies 3 times in 3 years while away at college didn't help). I'm one of the lucky few (again, I'd like to send a big "thank you" to those of you who killed our economy) who have full-time employment and affordable health care. Unfortunately, this "affordable" health care comes from that lovely company known as Humana. I've encountered Humana before, when I worked as a researcher for the Project on Government Oversight. We researched Humana and found over $125 million in lawsuit losses. What a model company.

I'm furious right now because they're denying a claim from my recent tetanus shot with whooping cough booster. I haven't had a tetanus shot in over 10 years. Unfortunately, according to Humana, after I turned 18 I lost all rights to immunization. That's right - after you're legally an adult, you can no longer get all those wonderful diseases prevented by vaccination. What a time saver!

My coworkers have also had wonderful experiences with Humana, ranging from sudden revelations that in-network doctors are now out-of-network to a policy that makes deductibles for surgeries astronomical.

Well, Humana, you messed with the wrong Jersey Girl. Thanks to your policy (page 17, section 2, paragraph 4), I, along with my coworkers, will be pressuring my employer to change providers. They may not be much better, but I'll take the risk because they're probably better than you.