There’s an App For That!

Yesterday, I stumbled across this article in the Chicago Tribune about eHarmony launching a new app this week – The Bad Date Rescue app.

Here’s a blurb about what it does:

The free app includes several ways to set up a rescue. Users can pick a number from their address book for the call, for example from their mother or a friend. It the person’s picture is stored on the app it will appear on the screen when the call comes through.

Scripts are available giving the reason for the call, such as a neighbor calling about a leaky pipe; a mother informing that a sister just had a baby; or a boss saying he needs help immediately.

The free app can be pre-set before the date to call at a specific time and there is a quick rescue that can be triggered on the spot to ring in a few seconds or minutes.

File this app under “The Most Useless Thing EVER.”

First of all, we’ve all had contingency plans in place before – let’s be honest.  I’ve had to do it for friends and they’ve had to do it for me (I think).  Because this type of thing has existed for so long, to me, renders this app completely unnecessary.

Second of all, the director of product management claims, “It graciously allows you to play along and to get out of that situation.”  But he’s not fooling anyone.  It doesn’t graciously allow you jack squat.  If you ARE on a date and either you receive an “emergency” call or your date does, both of you are going to know what’s REALLY going on without having to admit it or have that uncomfortable, adult conversation where you just say, “It was nice to meet you, but I don’t think this is a match.”  That’s a total of 14 words most of us are so unwilling to say.

Here are a five apps eHarmony should consider instead:

The Broken Heart app:  Basically Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minds you so that random sights, smells or memories don’t make you temporarily unable to breathe because you’re so upset being reminded of your ex.

The Profile Picture app:  Will send you a picture of what the person you’re talking to will look like five years older and 20-pounds heavier because we all know people put up pictures of themselves that do not accurately represent their current appearance.

The Shut The Fuck Up app:  Download this app so that when you’re on your date and one of you brings up any of those off-limit first through tenth date topics (ex’s, divorces, politics, finance, religion, Ohio State, OJ Simpson, or the Kardashians), the app will immediately sense this and to break up the conversation and distract you will immediately start blaring “MMMBop.”

The Blood Alcohol Content app:  Turns wine into water once you reach a certain level so that you don’t get tanked and make a very bad decision.

The Facebook Status app:  Automatically texts you your date’s status update after you’ve parted ways for the evening, so you know whether or not you’re getting a second one (regardless of whether or not you are FB friends with your date).  Could also be called Thank God I Don’t Have to Obsessively Check My Phone and Accidentally Walk off a Pier app.

I think any of the above would be much more useful that the app they’ve currently developed.  Someone get their product team on the phone, stat.


Here We Go Again

Well, it’s already happened.  Even though I said I was going to try and CALM DOWN about sports, the part diva, part monster in me has once again emerged and turned me into a raving lunatic.

The White Sox have been on a recent tear, and this past weekend concluded their last home stand before the All-Star Break.  Earlier in the week, they swept the Rangers and had taken the first two games against the Blue Jays.  Yesterday, game three, was a gorgeous day to sit outside to watch baseball, and so we did.

The game did not get off to a good start as Dylan Axelrod gave up two, two-run home runs.  In the first inning.  I think it went something like walk – HR – walk – HR, so we were in a 4-run deficit pretty quickly.  No bueno.

Alex Rios managed a 3-run HR in the bottom of the first, but Toronto just kept hitting, and every time we threatened to tie, something would go wrong.  And we came SO CLOSE – final score 11-9.  I was dreaming of the Youkilis game-winner that I experienced on the 4th of July, but, alas…

There were several issues at hand here.  One being that Robin Ventura started Tyler Flowers, presumably to give A.J. a break, but Flowers cannot hit his way out of a paper bag and, I mean, I know you can’t blame the catcher for bad pitches (or CAN you???) but there were definitely defensive plays he didn’t make that A.J. could have – I think at one point Toronto stole two bases IN A ROW.

I was screaming for them, at the very least, to have A.J. pinch-hit for Flowers, which they eventually did (I was like one of those crazy fans that probably calls the White Sox switch board to say things like, “You tell Jerry and Kenny to get rid of Ozzie!”  or “Tell Jerry to claim Player XYZ off waivers!”  or “Tell Jerry I’m delusional enough to think you’ll tell him whatever I say!”).

Another issue was the home plate umpire – Ballsy McBiased.  The difference in his version of a strike zone for when we pitched vs. when they pitched was mind-boggling.  I mean, he may as well have just ruled every ball a home run.  Ventura finally had enough and read him the riot act in the ninth inning – I am dying to know what he said because I imagine it was even meaner than what I was thinking.

(Something along the lines of “You stupid !$%@W&*@)_!*)#!O_!)(#!  Go $^@(*^$ yourself!”)

Ventura was ejected from the game and left the field to a standing ovation.

Look, I know crazy people like to blame the umps for everything, and certainly the way we pitched did not help us at all, but some of the calls he made were completely atrocious – calling a strike on Adam Dunn and then the next inning giving a ball to Toronto for the exact same pitch (or something, I think – see link below)

South Side Sox has a much more eloquent and smart sounding recap of the game if you’re interested.

True to form, I have now decided one loss is the end of the world (false) and there’s no way they can make the playoffs (also false).

In fact, I think this team has great potential.  Ventura has been a wonderful manager thus far.  You can really tell how much he cares about the team.  Ozzie didn’t give a shit last year – and apparently doesn’t this year either because his new team is struggling just as much as his old team did – and he’s taking Buehrle down with him, which is pissing me off! (8-8 with a 3.25 ERA – not horrendous but not great).  Zambrano is 4-7 with a 4.20 ERA, once again proving he cannot back up his mouth with any type of performance.

Wait, what was I talking about?

Here’s to a great second half of baseball!

When It Made Sense In 1997

Right now, My Best Friend’s Wedding is on – a movie that you should not watch after you have just told your guy friend that you want to be more and he rejects you (not that this happened to me, just so we’re clear).

It’s not even the fact that I have a horrible memory of seeing this movie for the first time that throws me off.  It’s all the things in it that are so unrealistic they make me want to throw something.  When I first saw it, I was 16, so the entire movie made complete sense to me.  Now?  Not so much.

For example:

  • Julia Roberts’ character Julianne is 28 and a food critic.  She’s wearing borderline business suits as casual attire, can afford to stay at the Drake and supposedly is immune to falling in love with everyone except Michael.  When I was 28, I could barely afford to stay at the local YMCA, I routinely wore jeans and flip-flops to work and fell in love four times a month.
  • This Michael dude is going to marry a 20-yr old willing to drop out of college and travel with him for his job as a sportswriter.  Um, no.  That would never happen.  When you’re on the road and working, it’s not like you have time to devote to your cling-on significant other.  I know when I was interning at Villanova and got to travel to exotic locations such as Syracuse, NY or Storrs, CT, I didn’t have a lot of free time.
  • The pact that Michael & Julianne have – if they’re not married by the time they’re 28, they marry each other.  As if being 28 and single is the end of the world and means you’ll die alone (okay for me it might, but for most people that’s not true).
  • Michael’s fiancée, upon meeting Julianne, announces that her maid of honor broke her something or other during spring break and she needed Julianne to step in.  Really?  You only have one maid of honor candidate?  No one else?  Two cousins and a stranger are standing up for you but you’re supposedly sweet as pie?  I may have had to repeat algebra, but that doesn’t add up, even for me.
  • Michael and Julianne have supposedly traveled all over the world together prior to turning 28.  Were they staying at hostels?  Did they hitchhike?  Again – most people at 28 cannot afford to travel the world on a whim.
  • The karaoke bar they go to that is supposedly in the Loop – such a thing does not exist.

Sitting here watching this now, I understand the concept – being bat-shit crazy in love with someone and not realizing it until it’s too late – but no 28-year old that I know has the money to fly to Chicago last-minute, stay at a 5-star hotel, wear business suits and try to sabotage a wedding while her editor/boss condones the behavior.

Also, Julia’s character finds Cameron Diaz’s character in the bathroom of Comiskey Park.  I’m sorry, but if I were running away from my fiancée who I saw making out with Hooch McGooch, I would not go to a ballpark stadium on the south side, even if my dad DID own the team.  I would put my ass on a flight out of O’Hare to the tropical island of my choice.  I know it’s just a movie, but how often to things actually tie up in such a neat little bow, like it did in this movie?

So – this whole movie circles back to the age-old question.  Can men and women ever really be friends?

What is the POINT?

I seriously do not understand the point of All-Star games.  In MLB, the league winner secures home field advantage for the World Series, but in every other sport, it’s completely meaningless.

It’s seriously a popularity contest.  It reminds me of when I consented to being nominated to represent the Drama Club for Homecoming Queen and no one voted for me.

Even if you can argue and say the games ARE based on talent – it’s really based on talent AND popularity.  And since the games are truly meaningless, I think they should be eliminated entirely.  Just rest up and work towards a championship.  No one cares if Blake Griffin can dunk over a Volkswagen (at least I don’t).

Anyway, moving on…

It’s been 100+ degrees here all week.  Or I guess today is the third day in a row that we will exceed 100, but it FEELS like it’s been 100+ for the past week.  My apartment does not have A/C.  It hasn’t really been a problem up until maybe a week ago.

I have ceiling fans, which have been doing the job up until now, and I bought three small fans that are barely doing anything.  I need to get at least one window unit, but I haven’t had time, although at this point I will need to make time because drowning in my own sweat seems like a really unpleasant way to die.

This is by far the hottest summer we’ve had in Chicago since I’ve lived here.

I took the bus four blocks to Starbucks this morning because it’s too hot to walk.  Katie and I are supposed to run ten miles tomorrow morning, but at this point I’d rather just lie in a dark room with ice on my forehead.  Sounds WAY better.

Wish us luck.



Things I Do Not Understand

Currently sitting here watching Sleepless in Seattle in amazement. Not just because it’s totally condoning stalking, but also because they keep dropping words like “fate” and “magic” and then Meg Ryan asks, “Is this crazy?” And Rosie O’Donnell answers, “No, that’s the weirdest part about it.”


Fate does not exist and there is no such thing as magic. (Hello – my reservation is under Bitter & Jaded, party of one.)

Listen – I am all about seizing the moment and following you heart and all that jazz, but flying across the country to knock on someone’s door who you’ve never even exchanged DMs with on Twitter? Not cool.

This movie is less realistic than Joe Versus the Volcano, when they trick Tom Hanks into thinking he’s dying and he and Meg Ryan wind up jumping into a volcano and surviving to save some random tribe.

I have seriously horrible taste in movies – I love the best, worst movies. Like today, at my friend Kate’s bridal shower, we were talking about the movie Someone Like You, which is GOD AWFUL, yet somehow I own it (probably plucked it out of the 2 for $1.00 bin during a Blockbuster sale).

If you ask me what my top five favorite movies are, they probably are not romantic comedies, because I really don’t believe in everything falling into place that neatly at the end. I know movies do it so as not to leave you hanging and because they need to provide a resolution, but real life just doesn’t work that way (at least mine doesn’t).

For the record:

1. Adventures in Babysitting (it’s a classic and if you don’t agree, bite me. I mean, “don’t fuck with the babysitter!?” Classic)

2. Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead (see explanation above – “I’m right on top of that, Rose!”)

3. The Fugitive (partial to movies that take place in Chicago and this one was so well done)

4. Shawshank Redemption (can’t watch the end without crying)

5. Twister (I have no explanation)

Some people are wondering if my book will have a happy ending or not. Maybe the ending will just be me finally realizing I deserve better than what I’ve been settling for in the past – and knowing that will lead me to make better decisions.

After the latest fiasco with Tad Hamilton, I’m more convinced than ever that I’m never getting married. But I’m so used to being alone, it’s fine. It’s not like I’ve always been in a relationship and being alone is a new thing.

But back to my original thought about this movie – unrealistic in so many ways, yet the core of it – finding your “soul mate” – makes sense. If only it were as easy as the movie makes it out to be.