Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

Back by Popular Demand: Debate Night Bingo

Yesterday I made some debate night bingo cards for the first round of the democratic presidential debates. They were fun enough to do it again. Here are the new and improved cards for night two!

Keep in mind, there are more options than spaces available so each card is different. Download the full set of 30 cards and play with your friends. Tweet me pics of your progress @CorinneFTWin to play along.

Thanks to my Twitter and Facebook friends who contributed ideas.


Thoughts on Depression and the Recent Celebrity Suicides

[This isn’t one of those fun posts.  Trigger warning if you struggle with suicidal ideation.]

Celebrity suicides are always sad but when you struggle with depression yourself it takes on a whole new layer. It’s hard to hear the news.  It’s hard to process.  That person was one of us, they were fighting the same fight we are and they lost. They didn’t make it.  Even if they were successful and wealthy and had all the things we think we want, they still lost that fight.

It reminds us that depression as a disease that can me fatal.  It’s hard to look at it that way.  It’s hard to look at yourself and say, “I have a disease that has no cure and it can kill me.” It’s terrifying.

People who don’t have severe depression don’t really understand.  As The Bloggess is fond of saying, DEPRESSION LIES. Those lies are deep and they are painful and when you are struggling you can’t tell the difference between the lies your depression tells you and the truth. Its hard to understand how difficult this is if you’ve never experienced it. Depression tells you that you are a burden, that you are worthless, that the people who love you do it only out of pity or stupidity, that they’d be better off without you.

Celebrity suicides also expose another side of depression’s lies.  The part that tells you it isn’t a disease, that you just haven’t done enough.  If only you just get that book published or make that film or start that charity or get that promotion you would feel better.  You aren’t unhappy because you are sick, you are unhappy because you aren’t good enough.  You don’t need to get help, you need to work harder.  So instead of going to therapy you spend your time writing or drawing or staying late at the office. And you get sicker.  And even if you do accomplish the thing, your one dream, you discover that it isn’t good enough.  Not enough people buy your book or watch your show and those people on the internet may be right.  WHAT IF I AM STILL WORTHLESS?

Right now I’m ok.  I’m very lucky.  I have a strong group of friends and family to support me and from what I’ve learned in therapy I am usually able to see the lies for what they are.  It’s hard. It’s a struggle. Every day.  And I hate to hear about someone who lost the fight.  Because I get it.  I understand it, way WAY more than I’m comfortable with.


If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, the Lifeline network is available 24/7 across the United States. Call 1-800-273-8255 or go to to chat live.

The National Weather Service has Issued a SantaCon Warning for Your Area

Hazardous Event Outlook

National Weather Service New York NY


Data taken from the SantaCon website by the NWS indicates the formation of a strong and extremely annoying SantaCon this weekend.  A system of drunk individuals from Long Island is expected to converge with an area of Bros heading northward along the New Jersey coast this Saturday at 10am.  The event is expected to begin in Midtown Manhattan and move slowly downtown as the day progresses.  We do not know the exact path as the GFS and the European model show differing possibilities and the SantaCon website has yet to release it’s final map.  It is recommended that individuals living below 50th St. begin preparedness actions now.


This event is expected to bring large crowds of costumed bros, assholes, basic bitches, and drunken bridge and tunnel jerks to the Manhattan area. There is likely to be an increased quantity of urine and vomit in the streets as well as large groups of insufferable and intoxicated individuals in bars and on public transit.  Sidewalks in effected areas may be inundated and difficult to traverse. Visibility may be reduced to a sea of red and white hats in some areas. The first impacts will be seen on Saturday morning as the first Santas begin to arrive on the LIRR and will likely last into the evening.


This SantaCon will arrive on Saturday morning, the time to prepare is now.

  • Stock up on emergency supplies.  Have enough food, coffee and beer for at least one full day as going outside will be dangerous if not completely intolerable. Seamless deliveries will likely be delayed and you should tip extra.
  • If you live on a low floor near the front of a building, make sure you have a good pair of noise canceling headphones for each member of your family.  This will help to drown out the drunken yelling of idiots outside your window.
  • Do not travel or leave your home unless you absolutely must. Staying inside, with your doors and windows tightly shut is the safest place to be.
  • Turn around don’t drown. If you see a torrent of Santas coming your way, turn around.  Any Santa taller than 4ft is enough to annoy the crap out of you.  Three or more Santas are enough to completely derail the afternoon of a grown man.



The Tell-Tale Fart

The Fall of the House of Flusher

Annabel Pee

The Smells

The Shit and the Pendulum

A Stream Within a Stream

Those Four Dreaded Questions

Pretty much every Jewish kid has had to face them at some point and, under duress, recited the stupid things in front of a bunch of ogling old people. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, the Four Questions are a vital part of a Passover Seder. They are traditionally sung by the youngest person present and since everyone ends up being the youngest person at a Seder at some point you end up getting stuck doing it until you can convince a pair of adults to produce a younger sibling or cousin or something.

I thought I would be able to get out of it by the time I was around 8 or so since I’m an older sibling.  But NOOOOO, my younger brother would wuss out every year so now I’m 27 and still doing it.  I remember as a kid getting this sick feeling in my stomach (and Dayenu stuck in my head) as springtime rolled around because I knew what was coming.  A few days before Passover I’d sit by my bookcase with my children’s haggadah, practicing with shaking hands and dreading the moment when all eyes would be on me.

It’s not so bad these days as our Seder is usually pretty small so I don’t mind it so much.  Many years ago however, when I was probably around 11-12ish, I found myself in a Four Questions Worst Case Scenario that I was wholly unprepared for.

We had been invited to a seder held by some people my mom knew from Temple.  They had a grandson who was my brother’s age so it was decided we it would be a good idea to go.  I say “we” but really I had no input on this decision. I figured I’d at least get out of the Four Questions that year since a) we were not hosting the Seder and b) there were going to be multiple other kids there younger than me.  My suspicions were confirmed when we got to the house.  There was a whole plan set out for dealing with the Four Questions which involved splitting the younger kids up into groups with 2-3 kids per question.  Even my stupid brother agreed to participate! I was asked if I felt left out to which I quickly and vehemently responded that I certainly didn’t.  They asked if I would help the kids out if they got stuck or something and I agreed.  I was in the clear. It was a good thing too since there were about 50 people, most of them strangers, in attendance.

About 5 minutes before we started that section of the Seder everything feel apart.  The kids were gone.  All of them. They just ran off and were happily playing in other rooms of the house.  Not a single one of them was around to do the Four Questions and I HAD ALREADY AGREED TO BE THE BACK UP.  The host came over and told me I would have to do them myself.  I wasn’t really given an option to say no.  I was supposed to be too mature for that. I couldn’t let EVERYONE down.

I remember standing up from my spot at the now empty kids table.  I remember seeing the whole room of expectant adults looking at me. I remember turning away from their oppressive gaze and down to the book and….and.  I wish I could say at this point that I sung it beautifully and without mistakes. It would even be kind of fun to say that I made a fool of myself and it’s a funny story now.  I can’t say any of those things though, because I have no idea what happened. I remember looking down at the book and then the memory stops.  After that point I have absolutely zero recollection of what happened in that room. Sometimes I wonder what it could have been.  Other times, I think maybe I was never meant to know.  Whatever it was that happened there, I may have forgotten it for a reason.


I Feel Old: Turning 26 Edition

Last year around this same time I wrote a post  inspired by my quarter life crisis and the sudden realization that at 25 years of age I was an actual adult.  Today I turned 26 and in the past year I have had a bunch more moments in which made me think, “holy sh*t, I’m a grown-up now!”  Here is that list:

  1. Not only did I have a checkbook but I actually used up all my checks.
  2. A friend of mine from high school just had a baby intentionally. Like she’s married and decided to start a family.
  3. I like split pea soup now.
  4. I have a 401K.
  5. I made my birthday cupcakes with whole wheat flour.
  6. I actually kept forgetting when my birthday was because I was busy.
  7. I was texting with a friend the other day and she mentioned that we’ve been friends for over ten years.  I realized that I’ve actually known nearly all of my closest friends for at least a decade.
  8. I don’t put sugar in my tea anymore.
  9. In less than six months I will be someone’s wife.
  10. I use a self inking stamp at work. (My mom had one when I was a kid that I was never allowed to touch)
  11. The girls in shampoo ads are now younger than me.







Please be Kind

On September 11th, 2001 I was 11 years old and in middle school. I lived in a town within a commutable distance from NYC so you could say it hit us pretty hard.  This isn’t a story about that day.  This is a story that happened a few days later.

I was in the cafeteria sitting with my usual group.  It was the same group that had sat together on the 11th trying to figure out what was happening based on the limited information our teachers had given us.  We had comforted each other in worried whispers.  We had all been scared but be had tried to be brave for our friends.

About half of our table was already sitting down with the other half trickling in when one of our friends dashed in in tears.  I won’t put her name here to respect her privacy. Of course the rest of us immediately huddled around her asking all at once what was wrong.

She told us that some boy had come up to her in the hallway and asked her angrily, “How could you do this to America?”

This friend was a Muslim and was wearing a hijab which I hadn’t really thought of as a big deal up until this point.  I was livid.  How could someone say something like that to my friend who I had never seen be anything but nice to everyone? How could someone make an 11 year old girl cry and feel okay about it? I tried to find a rational explanation, so I started asking her about a billion questions.

“Who was he? Did you know him? Could he have really said something else?” I thought maybe it was a mistake. Or maybe he was just doing it to be a jerk.  I was wrong.

“Some 8th grader.  I don’t know him.  Why would he say something like that? I love America.”

I felt totally helpless.  My friend was sitting here crying and there wasn’t really anything I could say to help.  Yes, that kid was a jerk.  He was 100% wrong and there was no reason for him to say that to her. Of course we knew she loved America, why wouldn’t she?  But we couldn’t tell her it wouldn’t happen again. I don’t know if that was the first time that something like that happened to her but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t the last. This sweet girl was growing up in a country where she was bound to face discrimination because of  her religion and as much as I wanted to protect her I could only do so much.

I wanted to find out who this boy was and shout at him and tell him how wrong he was.  I wanted to tell everyone.  I couldn’t understand how someone could think like that.  I was 11 and I didn’t know very much about the world.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that I’m choosing to tell this story now. In the aftermath of the attacks in Paris a lot of people are scared.  That’s reasonable, something terrible happened.  But please, don’t let your fear get in the way of your compassion.  Don’t direct your hate at people who aren’t really your enemies.

Those refugees who are desperately trying to escape Syria are running from the same people who are attacking the citizens of Paris.  These refugees are regular, everyday people. People just like you who are simply seeking safety and a place to live where they won’t be the next victims of violence.

It can be so easy to demonize others when you’re scared, but before you say something next time please stop and take a closer look at the situation and think before you speak. It may be that the person you think is an enemy is actually just a young girl who just wants to hang out with her friends at lunch.  She’s not scary at all and your harsh words will hurt her more than you will ever know.





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