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dishwashers have the worst taste in music. like ever.

27 Nov

Sometimes in life, you lock yourself out of your office, and subsequently lock yourself out of your car, and are forced to either wake someone up, or sleep at work using wadded up cocktail napkins for a pillow and a bottle of Malibu to keep me warm.

For me, that time has arrived. It wouldn’t be so bad here, but the dishwashers are playing the most godawful music I have ever heard in my fucking life. I feel like I’m on a merry-go-round in Mexico City that is surrounded by an accordion-centric mariachi band. I’m all about world music, but seriously? EVERY FUCKING SONG IS THE SAME (sort of like Mumford and Sons only somehow worse) AND I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY LONGER BUT IT’S RAINING AND COLD AND I ALSO LOCKED MY RAINCOAT IN THE OFFICE TOO.
Know what? I give up. I’d rather sit in the rain than listen to this shit. Why can’t they listen to like country music or the Les Mis soundtrack like a normal person?

So now I’m outside. I opted to call Harry. He woke my babygirl up and will bring my spare set. No offense, restaurant, but I hate you right now and I don’t want to spend any more time inside of you than I have to. I still love you though.

It’s cold. My phone is dying. You can still hear the music. I think they just said “please save us from singing this crapolaaaaaa” en Español. Not positive though. I’m about to start walking.

In other news, Harry just got here and my keys are not in my office. They are, in fact, nowhere. Tomorrow I will search high and low, and most likely surface in the mint basket or in the front pocket of my raincoat, which I am currently wearing.

The moral of the story is: I am responsible for not only a business, but also a small child and 35 brand new poinsettias. Good luck to those suckers!


how to survive 9 days running a restaurant in a powerless town full of complaining jews and other people.

7 Nov

Last night some friends came in for dinner and, upon observance, accused me of not once cracking a smile the entire time they were there. It’s true. I’m smiling minimally these days. Don’t get me wrong. Business is booming and I have power and my family is safe and life is special and whatever. I’m grateful for these things. But the fact is, I deal with the public.

And the public has reached the 22nd Hour.

Each September, Jews everywhere observe the holiday of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. During this time, we fast for 24 hours in order to be forgiven for the sins we have committed during the year such as driving on the Sabbath, coveting our neighbors’ wives and eating cheeseburgers. Out of the 24 hours, at least ten are spent complaining about thirst, hunger, stinky breath and supreme desire for bagels & lox. The final 2 hours turn most every Atoning Jew into a miserable, nearly unrecognizable hunger beast. By the 22nd Hour, everyone’s just a fuckin’ asshole to each other.

That’s pretty much where we’re at in the spectrum of this whole hurricane thing. The 22nd hour.

Since the stop lights went out on Broadway, (and Jericho Turnpike, Main Street and whatever woodsy street your house is on, just kidding not you because if you live on a woodsy street you are sitting in the dark inside of it and do not have a phone charger with which to power up this post) drivers have developed an inability to: change lanes, participate in an all-way stop sign, navigate around a roadblock (ie. downed wire, parked car, fallen tree, pooping dog). There is also some sort of lack of brain power when it comes to lining up for gas. I have literally resorted to directing traffic. 

You + Active Driveway = Leave a space.

That’s how it should be.

Not Me + You blocking my driveway + Pouring Rain = Me standing in the falling slush letting you know that there are 15 feet between you and the person in front of you so can you please move the fuck up.

A local (hottie) cop came in last night to pick up some dinner, and when I asked him to arrest me so I can finally get some peace and quiet, he asked if I’d kindly do the same to him. “Ummm, yeah, for sure, no problem. A.N.Y.T.I.M.E.,” I winked. (Don’t worry, Harry knows I’m totally not just kidding. Just kidding.) He said that he keeps getting calls to people’s houses so that they can complain that their dogs are cold from the lack of power, and that he has broken up more fights at the gas station in the past 3 days than he ever has in all the local crack bars. I gave him a big hug and we held hands and I told him it will all get better soon, and we stared into each other’s eyes and… oh shit, that’s for the other blog.

Anyway, it breaks my heart that I can now determine whether or not someone has power within the first 30 seconds of them entering the building. Telltale signs:

1. They have eaten at the restaurant 3 nights in a row. The second they walk back in for a 4peat, I know they’re still in the dark.

2. No mascara. (This typically is only used for judging women, but there is the occasional man who’s looking a little puffy around the eyes)

3. Greasy ponytail. I have known some of these bitches for years, and never seen their anything less than perfectly blown out. So once that ponytail swings in, I know.

4. They enter in a single file line. Families are no longer united. They hate each other. The parents hate the kids because they’re annoying and keep staying with friends and it’s not fair. The kids hate the parents for being too cheap and disorganized to check into a hotel til the lights come back.

5. Beeline for an outlet. The obsession with technology is merely repressed, it isn’t going to dissipate with a setback like no electricity. The lack of power to iPhones is literally destroying lives. Like literally.

6. Wearing an inordinate amount of jackets. Last night there was a guy wearing 2 pairs of jeans. Someone needs to buy him some thermals, he seemed really stiff and uncomfortable.

7. They bring a board game, 2 dogs and a sleeping bag to dinner. Brings a whole new meaning to camping out at a table.


I’d like to dedicate this post to the following people who have changed me from a sort of negative gal to a full on bitch to everyone I encounter:

Guy with Fanny Pack and head tattoos. Sits at the bar talking to himself for 1 hour straight. Loudly. In his fanny pack, he pulls a back scratcher out Mary Poppins-style and begins to rub himself down. FROM TOE TO HEAD. Harry makes me leave the vicinity because a) EW and b) he’s trying to look down my shirt. DOUBLE EW.

Old lady who can’t stand for long periods of time and should therefore sit at a table before the other 75 people waiting. I directed her to a cushy bench by the host stand, brought her some coffee and make her wait like the rest of the pions. Just like the gas line, nobody in this place is cutting the damn soup line.

Couple who wants free shit during a time that I’d really like to direct my free shit towards those who legitimately need it.  We often run a dinner special on Tuesday wherein you get a free soup or salad, but it’s off this week because we’re offering something different. Not ok with them. When I offered to make a donation directly to the Red Cross for the difference in price, they told me that all they wanted was free soup and that they shouldn’t have to donate money if they don’t want to. “Oh,” I managed squeak out. “OK. You only care about yourselves. No problem. I’ll bring you soup.” They nodded and on the way out, applauded me for “doing the right thing.” Karma’s a bitch, medium old people.

Snobbish Douchebag wearing Argyle. “It’s very rude to bring someone a check in front of their other guests,” he tells me, looking down on me even though I’m standing and he’s sitting. Meanwhile, 4 feet away, I am trying to accommodate a restaurant full of people and help bus tables because it’s Monday night and we’re doing Saturday business. He shorts me by 38 cents because “he doesn’t have change and he doesn’t think he should have to round up.” You keep on with your awesome self, my friend.

Family who thinks the restaurant is housing their own personal thermostat. A table is cold when they get inside. So I make it warmer. Then there’s hot air blasting on them. Then there’s a light shining on them. Then it’s too dark to read the menu. Then one person needs hot water with lemon. Then another person needs hot water with extra extra lemon. Then the first person needs cold water. Then they put their coats on the table next to them, even though we clearly need to use it. Then they put their coats back on because they’re cold again.

Table that won’t leave. I get it, it’s cold at your house. But I have 20 guys from Alabama wearing orange vests and hardhats who are waiting to sit down and eat steaks and french onion soups, and you’re sitting smack dab in the middle of a row of empty tables. I understand that your second cousin put the wrong kind of gas in his generator, but we need to save these thrilling stories for another day. I’ve got mouths to feed.  And you already got yours.

Guess what. I just smiled! I’m sitting in Starbucks and a random dude just took it upon himself to carry a very large flag inside that was about to blow away in the wind. He was just being a nice guy. Humanity is saved! All is right in the world!

So even though I stepped in dog shit this morning and the wifi doesn’t work up in this joint and it’s FUCKING SNOWING, I still think it’s gonna be a good day.

every week is sunshine week! (for my guest blogger, not me. don’t worry.)

22 Apr

To celebrate the last night of Sunshine Week, here’s a post written by Michelle, who’s the most optimistic girl on my Facebook feed by a longshot. Enjoy her enlightened outlook… She’s quite an inspiration!!


my name is michelle and I’m quite cheery

because i choose to be happy- it’s a choice not a theory

i realized just a few months ago

that life is pretty hilarious and fantastic, if you’re able to let go

let go of what you think you know about who you are supposed to be

close your eyes, turn off your mind, and then begin to see

that voice we call our conscious, that feeling we call our gut

that sacred knowing deep inside- well let me tell you what

i began to accept that knowing, as truth and not just dreams

i began to take the guidance, and let my life unravel at the seams

i went with the waves, refused to believe my objections, let go of all control

and holy shit now here i am, totally trusting and living as my soul!

i broke up with my boyfriend, bought a Living Social voucher to new delhi, agra & jaipur

stopped eating meat, began to smile on the street, and then began to soar

i sold my apartment on the upper west side, and resigned from Grey with tact

next week im moving to the east village- st. marks place to be exact

remember, kiddies, remember one thing, just one thing you should know

that inside we are so totally filled with love, and if you are able to connect to that glow…

your life will begin to turn out, exactly as its meant to be

you don’t have to do a thing, just relax, and smile and see.

ok guys. so that’s my poem. I learned to turn off my mind, and not believe my thoughts (that can say,”WTF are you doing walking away from this salary to start, what?? your own LLC?”!) and tune in to my soul, and listen to and trust it. Completely. And life has been a rockin’ bubble of happiness ever since. One thing I want you to know. You know that feeling when you are thinking of something that makes you smile as you walk down the street, and then as people pass you, they smile back at you? Or if you are tickling the toes of a one year old, and they begin to laugh hysterically? Or when you first start dating someone that you really like, and they text you that first smiley emoticon? There is something that wells up in you, it feels like joy, like giggles, like warm happiness. Well, that’s the love. It’s inside of you all the time- ALL THE TIME! And if you know that and begin to try to connect with it while in the shower, or sitting at your desk at work, I mean, your life is going to be a much happier place to hang out in. It’s crazy groovy when you tap in to it and realize that you can make yourself fill to the brim with love anytime you want- like, turning on a faucet of happiness at a moments notice.

sunshine week roundup!!

22 Apr

So tomorrow ends Sunshine Week, which I think went surprisingly well. I didn’t lose my shit about having to be nice, not even once! (OK maybe a couple times, but not publicly on here so it doesn’t count.) The truth is, I thought I was a minor supergenius before I invented The One Week Happiness Diet, but now I’m 100% positive that I’m a MAJOR supergenius. After 6 days of this wonder diet, I feel fab! The sun feels sunnier! My hair is incredible! And some of my clothes still fit me!! Here’s a rundown of the past couple days…

1. Eat Whatever – Yesterday I walked into Walgreens and bought a dark chocolate Kit Kat and nothing else. This is the first (and last) time I’ll ever do this. I felt so vulnerable, like I was buying condoms, a pregnancy test and whipped cream all in one pop. Today I voluntarily ate not one but TWO salads. It was so weird. Like my body was like “Listen up Shelby. I need some leafy greens or I’m going to give you back fat like you’ve never seen before. Get on it, bitch. There’s more to life than chocolate.” Or at least that’s what I think my body was saying.

2. Do Whatever – Today I climbed on a ladder to change some lightbulbs at the restaurant wearing a skirt.

3. No Complaining – I told Charlie how fat I am and he said “You’re not fat.” And I said “Charlie, I’ve gained weight.” And he said “You look fine.” And I said “Yeah, but you can tell that I’ve gained weight.” And like the great friend that he is, he said “Well you came up with this diet, Shelby. What the hell do you expect?”

4. No Bathing Suit Shopping – Yeah, it’s a good thing it’s not really summer yet. Because the One Week Happiness Diet is 100% not condusive to this particular activity.

5. Alternatively Exercise – Harry and I have taken up Zumba. Hahahahahahhahahhahaha just kidding. But we did move some tables and chairs together  in the party room tonight. Also did some hardcore grocery shopping for Hashbrown Harry’s. And today we went to an Eco Carnival [read: dreamy hippiefest] and I opted to not bring a stroller, so I chased and/or carried babygirl around for 2 hours while lifting large rocks to see what insects live underneath and playing the beanbag toss. Harry was very busy eating organic burritos and cane sugar sweetened grape soda so he was unable to assist in the carrying.

6. Take your Music Vitamins – Tonight I did a Sweet 16 at the restaurant, and joyfully had to make a playlist. She told me that she wanted Nicki Minaj and Drake type stuff. No Biebs, no Demi Lovato (I was sort of sad about that one, but who am I to argue). Found some great new tunes on the way! Check it out….

7. Enjoy the Results – How can I not be happy? This is my life….

the babygirl + the boy.

On my way home tonight I listened to a live Jimmy Buffett concert. He played one of my favorite songs and I just feel like the lyrics are great. Almost as good as his perennial favorite, “Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw?”

Oh, yesterday’s over my shoulder

So I can’t look back for too long

There’s just too much to see waiting in front of me

And I know that I just can’t go wrong.

With  these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same

With all of my running and all of my cunning

If I couldn’t laugh I just would go insane

If we couldn’t laugh we just would go insane

If we weren’t all crazy we would go insane.

Just in case you’re dying of curiosity, here’s what I’ve got on my plate over the next few days…

  • Making cakes
  • Frosting them
  • Making marshmallows
  • Eating them (fuck Sunshine Week, I’m keeping the Happiness Diet going until I need a motorized scooter at the mall)
  • Pacing and biting my fingernails until the HH t-shirts arrive.
  • Reviving my parents’ plants before they get back from their vacation so they don’t know that I’m totally neglecting them.

Isn’t it so strange? Apparently Hashbrown Harry’s is pretty popular and there are only like 7 seats left. Weird that my totally random and pointless blog post turned into like an actual thing that actual people actually want to actually attend.

In other news, to celebrate the final day of the 2nd ever Sunshine Week, I’ve got a great treat for you! No, it’s not pot brownies, get your head out of the gutter. It’s a very special post written by a very special guest.

Stay tuned!

sunshine week kickoff (there’s a happy ending, don’t worry)

16 Apr


For all you haters/skeptics/assholes out there, here’s further proof that Hashbrown Harry’s is real:

REAL PRESS FOR A FAKE RESTAURANT. An interesting fact about this link is that I have no idea what it says. I have neither a Newsday subscription nor an Optimum account, so I’m blocked from this particular site. Soooooo if you can cut and paste it into something visible for me I’d totally totally love it.

Visit for all the fun fun fun details, and remember. RESERVATIONS ARE REQUIRED SO GET OFF YOUR ASS, OR STAY ON IT FOR ALL I CARE AND EMAIL STAT.

So as we discussed yesterday, I’m celebrating the 2nd ever Sunshine Week by going on the One Week Happiness Diet that I invented yesterday. It went so well that I’m not going to even write about how much I love Harry because he does adorable things like shop for collars to put on the dog we don’t own. I’m just going to review the steps to Happiness and let you know how I implemented them into my everyday life.


  1. Eat anything you want: I wanted Indian food (can I be totally honest with you? I have never eaten in an Indian restaurant. I have no excuse. I feel weird admitting that) but Harry wanted 5 Guys, so we compromised on California Pizza Kitchen. I bought Electrolyte Water at Trader Joe’s, Fresh Chocolate Milk (and incense?) at Whole Foods, and Uncrustables at Target (strawberry and grape). Riley and I shared a banana while we shopped. 
  2. Do whatever: I bought a plant at Whole Foods that’s a succulent with flowers. I feel confident about keeping it alive. This evening, after a lovely family dinner, I cruised over here:There are no actual words for the hour-long massage I paid $28 for. I would have to climb on top of you while you’re laying on your stomach, straddle you and squeeze my kneecaps into the sides of your ass BECAUSE THAT IS LITERALLY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME. Oh, and at the same time, my little 90 pound masseuse engaged in a fully (and apparently quite humorous) Chinese conversation with her boss. Basically, I spent an hour getting the shit beat out of me, with a little extra attention paid to my feet. Regardless of whether or not that was a happy ending to my night, I left with sex hair like no other. Good thing I ran into people I knew at the pizza place afterwards.
  3. No regretting what you’ve eaten or done: I actually can’t wait to finish this post so I can go grab a little bag of Pirate’s Booty. And I kind of like what I did today… especially the parts where I sort of got molested and folded 4 giant loads of laundry.
  4. Don’t shop for bathing suits: I did walk by them, but didn’t make eye contact. Instead I wore my cowboy boots with their new matching country girl skirt and a really cool Gilly Hicks bra that’s a little too sporty for weekends at work (and a shirt). I dressed my babygirl exactly like me. She looked fab, obviously. Also, I made the official decision that the messy top-o-my-head bun will be the main hairstyle I’ll be sporting for the next 4-7 months. Or the post-massage fuck-me ponytail. Can’t decide.
  5. Exercise alternatively: First I played soccer with Riley but it turned out I was wearing cowboy boots and she doesn’t know how to kick a ball. Moved on to playing on the seesaw, and I concluded my circuit training by playing an intense game of street hockey with Harry and Austin. Kindly note that me and Austin’s team won. Because we’re so adorable.
  6. Take your Music Vitamins: Riley has officially memorized the choreography to “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees. Unfortunately you can’t record a video while you play Spotify, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
  7. Results may vary: Incredible things happened today. First, my phone autocorrected the word “F-Bomb” to Bong. Then, at Target, a woman came up to me. “Old Gringos?” I had no idea what she was talking about until I remembered my boots. “No, Corrals.” Did I have to look at the bottom? Yes I did. “They’re beautiful.” I felt like how Carrie Underwood must feel like all the time – like a Celebrity Cowgirl. THEN at the register the total was $40.79, AND I PULLED EXACTLY 79¢ OUT OF MY BAG!! I shared the moment with all the shoppers and cashiers around me. They were really impressed with my mad skills. Oh, and to top it off, there was this:

Sunshine Week has started with a bang… but it only gets better. Tomorrow I’m going to see Charlie AND IT’S POETRY TUESDAY!!!!!!

it’s baaaacckkkkk…..

15 Apr

Sunshine Week that is! Back by popular demand, not because I want it that way.

Sunshine Week Mascot.

During this particular Sunshine Week, I’ll be going on The One Week Happiness Diet, which I invented a few minutes ago.

Here’s how it works:

  1. You eat anything you want, including 2 Crumbs cupcakes in one day.
  2. You do whatever tickles your fancy, such as buying a kayak or sitting on your couch for 30 hours straight watching “She’s All That” on a loop or getting a Peace tattoo on your midle finger.
  3. You are not permitted to complain about how fat/poor/wacked-out/unproductive you are, not even once.
  4. You are restricted from swimsuit shopping for 7 days.
  5. Exercise frequently, but only in the form of non-traditional workout activites – darts, bamboo forest exploring, karaeoke, reading “50 Shades of Grey,” laughing, spring cleaning.
  6. You must take Happiness Diet vitamins 2x daily (also known as some groovin’ tunes according to yours truly).
  7. When people ask you why the hell you keep smiling, you tell them that you’re on the One Week Happiness Diet, which you read about on the greatest blog of all time ever ever ever.

Are you going to enjoy Sunshine Week? I sure am!

Since Sunshine Week hasn’t yet begun, I’ll let you know that I’ve decided to pen a novel. The title is:

Instead of Complaining, Just Tell Me What You Want For Free

& other stories of a saturday night.

See you tomorrow for CHARLIE’S RETURN FROM LAS VEGAS!!!! Can you think of a better way to kick-off Sunshine Week than the reunion of the century? Me neither.