McDonald’s has always had a thing for hearts. As in, high cholesterol, sodium, heart disease, hear attacks….

But looks like the fast food giant is using a new PR campaign to lure customers through the doors (as if the intoxicating smell of their fries wafting through the atmosphere isn’t enough).

The commercial is all about delivering McDonald’s message of being “an established part of your American community.” It’s a solid 60 second reel showcasing 20-some trademark Golden Arches signs, all with different messages to members of the local communities. From 9/11 remembrance and honoring veterans, to “get well soon” messages of hope for sick patrons, the commercial really pulls at the heartstrings to reinforce the feeling that “McDonald’s is so here for us.”

I first saw it during the Golden Globes last weekend and admittedly, felt a little teary-eyed. Sure, I know I was falling for the marketing ploy, but what red-blooded American doesn’t have a soft spot for Veterans? Or feel overjoyed when a member of your inner-circle gets married? Or, feel comforted when a friend shows sympathy in a time of tragedy? Well for a minute, you felt as though McD’s was right there with ya.

Reviews of have been mixed, and a parody of the ad appeared shortly after the ad’s debut Sunday during NFL games and the Golden Globes Awards.

Scrolling through my Twitter lists, plenty of my PR buddies had some….”constructive criticism” toward the campaign.

Color me naïve, but I don’t really see this as McDonald’s leveraging national tragedies as a McNuggets marketing tool. Rather, they’re just showing how they (as a as a brand, this means their employees, customers, shareholders) feel what the community around them feels.

For better or for…french fry, we’re all in this together.*


*Still not eating there anytime soon

View the ad here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93KTpF9JDWo


Remember the book, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” (or perhaps its acclaimed follow-up, “If You Give a Moose a Muffin”) from your childhood?

Maybe, maybe not.

The long and short of it: these [highly recommended!] stories are “circular tales” that open with an activating event [giving aforementioned mouse a cookie], and the chain reaction of actions that follow: needing milk to go with it, then looking in the mirror only to notice a milk moustache….and stray hair, cutting his hair, cleaning up the mess in the bathroom, getting carried away and cleaning the whole house, and on and on. SPOILER ALERT: it ends with the mouse eating a cookie in the end. Sorry.

[How I can remember this, but not what I wore to work on Thursday? No idea. I digress].

The other day, this “circular tale” came to life. No, not with a mouse or a moose. Rather, with your everyday, run-of-the-mill young adult; and no, not with a cookie, but rather the infectiously addictive Pumpkin Spice Latte. Yes, that beverage that’s slowly creeped into your Facebook newsfeed, conquering your Instagram feed and Twitter stream in the meantime. Like crack, Starbucks and other coffee joints are seeing a spike in sales thanks to these beverages. Now that temperatures are in the 50s and 60s, your stereotypical white chicks might as well hook themselves up to an IV for a pumpkin-patch-sized dosage of these drinks.PSL 2

So here we are, where the story begins. The setting: a Starbucks in Chicago, on a gloriously autumnal afternoon. The characters: two white chicks.

  • If you give a white girl a Pumpkin Spiced Latte, she’ll want a pastry to go with it.
  • Knowing the challenges of eating, drinking and walking, they decide to sit and stay.
  • At a cozy table, whilst nomming and sipping, they have time to look through Twitter streams and discuss major breaking news, like Fashion Police continuing its regular taping without Joan Rivers. And ISIS.
  • They notice a tweet advertising a Fall sale at a department store, so decide to check it out. After all, what’s Fall without a new set of boots.
  • The two girls travel to the store, making a pit stop along the way at a drugstore for gum (ew, pumpkin breath).
  • They continue their mile-long journey to department store on the breezy afternoon.
  • It’s really, really breezy.
  • It gets breezier, blowing bags off of shoulders, and hair into the wind….and into the mouth of one girl.
  • Into the mouth, and now attached to gum. Gum. In. the. Hair.
  • The two girls stop at a hotel along the way to extract gum and collect themselves before continuing onto their destination.
  • At the hotel is an afternoon wedding reception, so the girls peer into the ballroom to observe and judge accordingly.
  • The hotel concierge politely escorts the bystanders from the back of the hotel.
  • The two girls continue on the Journey to Boots, ultimately making it to the department store…where every other human in the world seems to be fighting for space in the shoe department.
  • Note that these boot-seekers are aggressive and armed (with like 15 shopping bags from the American Girl store, easily leveraged as weapons for personal space).
  • One girl loses balance after being elbowed in the Battle of Boots, steps backward…. Only to knock over a display.
  • The two girls receive evil death stares from the aggressive shoppers as they assist store associates restacking the display.
  • One evil starer held a bag from a nearby pet supply store (I use this term loosely as they sell dog-sweaters and couture kitten carriers.
  • Taking note of the store and recognizing they needed to get their youknowwhats out of the store, they decide to travel to the pet supply store and pick up a “new puppy” gift for a family member.
  • They reach pet supply store and are greeted by volunteers from a local no-kill shelter.
  • The volunteers, like the department store patrons, are armed….with rescue dogs.
  • While neither girl can have a dog of her own, they feel the need to help.
  • The girls offer to put some signs up along the street to advertise the adoption stand…and are handed 20. That’s a lot of signs.
  • 30 minutes of sign-hanging later, which followed the gum-crisis, wedding-crashing, department store debacle, three miles of walking, one girl notices she’s hungry.
  • What does she want? Sugar.
  • Like, a pastry.
  • Across the street, beaming like the Gates to Heaven is…a Starbucks.
  • The girls travel in and what are all the pastry options? Pumpkin-flavored.
  • She’s satisfied after the pastry. But notices that…..she’s thirsty.
  • What is a solid pick-me-up after such an afternoon?
  • A PSL.

So, there you have it. Consider yourself warned of the events that can surface if you give a girl a Pumpkin Spiced Latte: losing some hair, being escorted from a hotel, getting assaulted by aggressive shoppers, serving as a humanitarian and NOT getting boots is entirely possible.

The world’s better off with Peppermint Mochas anyway.

Like many of my fellow twenty-something females, I’m guilty of having a pop culture obsession. As inundated as we are with social media and real-time updates on the web, it’s near-impossible to avoid. 

“Keeping up with the Jones’” is now “Keeping Up With the Kardashians.”

Staying abreast of Taylor Swift’s love life can easily be a part-time job.

Thanks to the watchful eyes of the paparazzi, we can see what groceries celebs load up on from Whole Foods (kale is the new black, in case you were wondering).

And OHMYGOD did you see who Gwyneth Paltrow was spotted having lunch with five minutes ago?

While doing some educational reading in CVS earlier, I saw a photo spread in Us Weekly featuring some pictures of Oscar winners running errands, fashion designers eating ice cream and an award-winning TV anchor pushing her two-year-old on a swing, all under the headline: “Celebs: They’re Just like Us!”

Um, what?  I can’t really agree with you, Us Weekly.

I don’t wear Manolos to the park. I don’t own Manolos [yet].

I don’t wear my sunglasses into the store to shield my pupils from flashing cameras following me around.

I’m also not certa-freaking-fiably insane.

Hear me out: is it just me, or have celebrities recently been a particularly special breed of cray-cray?

Exhibit A: Paula Deen. Go figure the woman whose Southern twang necessitates subtitles, whose main ingredient to life is butter and who openly flirts with her son on television is a raging racist.  But seriously: are you insane, woman? Do you not know people are listening to you and to apply a filter if you don’t want to offend the masses and not lose the majority of your multi-million dollar endorsements. Normal people don’t do this.

Exhibit B: Kanye West. This guy’s kind of a regular on these sorts of “WTF, bro” lists. I mean, he performed in a leather skirt for the Hurricane Sandy fundraiser for crying out loud. But despite the fact he recently entered fatherhood and is supposedly “humbled by his new role as dad,” Kanye compared himself in an “artist and activist” class with Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Henry Ford and Howard Hughes. Some lyrics off his new album, Yeezus, actually draw comparisons between Kanye and God. So I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that most men don’t sport leather womenswear and most humans aren’t comparing themselves to Higher Powers terribly often.

Exhibit C: Amanda Bynes. Right, OK. Again, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say most of us haven’t tossed a bong out our apartment windows, racked up three DUIs in one year, pierced our cheeks, gone on Twitter rants threatening to sue the media for “mind reading” and planned to launch a rap career recently. I could be wrong, but going to go ahead and say this celeb is not scaling high on the spectrum of normalcy. Also, the whole pouring bleach in hair, vomiting in public places and planning to launch a rap career? Not sure us normals are picking up what this celeb’s throwing down.

Exhibit D: Miley Cyrus. So yeah; watch that “We Can’t Stop” video on YouTube (viewer discretion advised. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.). Closest to pornography these baby blues have seen and I’m sure Billy Ray’s proud of his little girl. So I guess sister gets herself this fancy, new P!nk-inspired haircut, has a new lease on life, is getting down with her badass-self (throw in some taxidermy for good-measure) and spends 3:34 twerking in front of a camera and calls it a day. She says it “reinvention.” Others call it “art.” Color me prude, but I’m calling it “%^&*&.” Miley regularly complains of being “stereotyped by the media” and claims to be a “normal woman figuring herself out.” Yeah, you’re right Miley. At 19 I was totally shaving my head, tattooing myself, grinding all over the Internet, wearing see-through apparel to events and “shaking it like we at a strip club.” Normal…definitely normal. 

Exhibit E: Alec Baldwin. I’m fairly certain that anyone with a normal level of common sense knows better than to Tweet homophobic comments to a news reporter and expect to just…let it slide and go UNREPORTED. Then you can factor in the whole “tens of thousands of followers,” a high-profile and regular Tweet-ranter, and commentary along the lines of…oh something like “I’m gonna find you George Stark, you toxic little queen, and I’m gonna f**k you… up,” and you’re going to come off as a loon.  Not really normal reasoning there, Baldwin. 

I rest my case.  There is “normal,” and then there is vomiting in public, a new and slightly offensive level of “discovering womanhood,” flaming bigotry and comparing oneself Christ. 

In the words of The Holiness himself, “that sh*t cray.”


Retool Preschool



Fifteen years ago, Robert Fulghum’s simple (but true) credo, that “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten,” put into words what we all needed to hear: that some of life’s most important lessons are what we learned at the ripe ages of five and six (or seven if you were that kid).

As a college sophomore, one of my British Literature professors had us translate excerpts of the book into iambic pentameter.

Fact: this was an enormous waste of time and did absolutely nothing to benefit my understanding of the book existentialism, nor the adaptability of the essays’ messages to real-person life.

Now five years into the working world, I looked back and reread some of the essays from English 320 and know now that Fulghum was totally onto something (go figure. Seven million copies and New York Times bestseller was legit). Although I doubt Fulghum spent time working in Corporate America, we can all draw from our experiences as esteemed Kindergarten Alumni (I mean, I hope) for some of our own, personal “Keys to Surviving the Nine to Five.

Remember: Funny Kids are the Cool Kids

I remember the coolest girl in kindergarten. Her name was Sarah Stanley, she had a dog named Fred and a baby brother born on Christmas.

You were pretty much the luckiest person ever to get paired with her as your Break Buddy for the week. Why? It wasn’t because she was tall and blonde and pretty.

Nor was it because she had football star boyfriend or the hottest pair of this season’s Marc Jacobs pumps (I mean, we were like, five).

It was because that Sarah? She was freakin’ hilarious and made all girls AND boys laugh really hard.

In kindergarten, it wasn’t the looks or the stuffs that made one “awesome.” It was the jokes you had and the ability to proudly fly that freak flag and make other laugh.

For some reason, this element of awesome takes a major hiatus once you hit middle school and lasts through high school and a good portion of college. Once you’re working long workweeks and under pressure that humor becomes a saving grace to you and your peers, and keeping others’ smiling becomes the coolest thing ever. Fly that freak flag, people. Funny is the coolest.

Get Some Nap time

Back in kindergarten, teachers carved out mandatory Nap Time for students. After all, coloring inside the lines and crafting complex macaroni necklaces really takes a toll on a human’s energy level, right? Right. At that time in life, Nap was the worst.

Like, the absolute pits.

I mean, WHO? WHO IN HER RIGHT MIND wants to lay in silence (in the DARK) there are way more mission critical items to attend to, like putting the final faux fur touches on her bunny ears for the Mrs. Rabbit school play NEXT WEEK WHEN SHE IS THE LEAD BUNNY IN MRS. RABBBIT’S GARDEN??

You expect me to NAP?

“Napping is important. The mind needs to rest to keep the bodies busy,” Mrs. Butler would tell us. At the time, this seemed like a load of crap.

Well color me corrected, Mrs. Butler, but these days I’m pretty sure I’d try and kiss my boss if she instituted mandatory afternoon Nap Times. I know I’m not alone when I say that beneath-desk-spaces of cubicle space are perfectly designed for us fetal-position sleepers. That Michigan State snuggie of mine is dying to make its way to the office and would serve as an awesome conversation-starter. You know, when I finally emerge from Fort Napspace

Sharing is Caring

How nice was it when your Break Buddy let you use his/her fresh-to-death pack of 64 Crayolas because your wimp-ass set of 32 were just not cutting it?

That was really nice. Because Forest Green and Jungle Green are so different.

The agricultural realism of my artwork was infinity improved due to the generosity of aforementioned Break Buddy.

Fast-forward and we cannot thank our gal pals enough when they spot us a $5 for a cab fare, or loan you a last-wedding-season dress because you just don’t want to splurge for another. They share a Netflix login so you can catch up on a show and not wait for it to rerun or rent yourself. It might be someone at work who has an extra iPhone charger to share when you dip to that dangerous point and fear cardiac arrest if you can’t thumb through Facebook on your way home. Maybe a co-worker shares some of his/her archived work for you to learn from. Whatever it is, sharing is caring and makes life just way easier.

Wash Your Hands

Teachers would remind us of this all the time. In 1990, this was probably to get the sticky snack residue off of my hands and not onto books.

Today, this is SERIOUS, PEOPLE. The 2012-2013 flu season has officially been classified by the CDC as an “epidemic,” with emergency rooms overflowing, Tamiflu wells running dry and doctors having to turn anyone not elderly/pediatric/handicapped away.

The flu is miserable. We’ve all had it. Not everyone gets an annual flu shot (guilty as charged); and if you go out in public, touch anything at all, engage in human interaction or…you know..breathe, you’re basically at-risk. The best we can do is wash out hands to be as germ-free as possible.

For real. As the Bubonic Plague of 2k13, washing your friggin’ hands is kind of important.

Others? Share your knowledge.


With a New Year comes new beginnings and fresh starts. Many set resolutions and goals to improve areas in their everyday lives and become “better versions of themselves” (so what if these typically result in failed gym memberships, empty financial planning spreadsheets or unread books on bookshelves. The effort’s there! Right? Right.).

A New Year is also an opportunity to leave some not-so-fresh things behind. From questionable trends to an unpredictable fiscal future, 2012 was a little bizarre if you ask me. Looking back on the last year, there’s plenty we can all agree upon that can be left behind.  I’ve suggested some 2012 head-scratchers to which I’d like to bid adieu – and doubt I’m alone on any…

Honey Boo-Boo

Listen, I feel like someone owes us all an explanation for the phenom that is “Honey Boo-Boo.” Having never forced myself to sit through a full episode of the TLC show, I cannot delve terribly far into the [what I’m sure are complex] characters in the Boo-Boo family or [what I’m sure are intellectually stimulating] plotlines. But based on what I’ve seen from clips reels, this show is weekly hour-long mockery of a family that has issues with basic manners, makes a varsity sport out of bobbing for pigs’ feet at their town’s “Redneck Games,” practices extreme couponing and fine dines on “sketti:” butter and ketchup-topped pasta.  This needs to go away.

Gangnam style

More than 2 billion people have viewed and “liked” the “Gangnam Style” music video on YouTube since it debuted in July, and I can firmly assert that I am not among them. I appreciate a good earworm; I’ve been caught humming “Call Me Maybe.” But I see no benefit or up-side to the irritant that is PSY. The dance moves are unflattering, the melody nonexistent. His pants are outright offensive. And then it gets stuck in your head. Please: no more


Seemed like 2012 was the year for highlighters to explode across humankind. From clothing to hair tips, fingernails to makeup, neon shades of color took over and blinded us all (unless you were wearing your neon-framed sunglasses, of course). For the sake of optical health, this one can stay in 2012.

“Baby Watch”

No offense to the pregnant ladies out there (I know you’re hormonal or whatever. Please don’t hurt me.), but the degree to which “Baby Watch” spiked in 2012 was overwhelming. My fellow pop culture enthusiasts were lambasted with coverage of celebrity baby bumps and “pregnancy practices.” Seriously, real-life preggo people loathe the nine months of child-bearing and would rather be on a sofa with jars of Jif and a spoon – not sipping a skim organic grass seed smoothie while doing mommy-and-fetus-bonding-time yoga.  Not every issue of weekly rags need to track the circumference of a woman’s stomach – especially when she’s like Jessica Simpson and pregnant for like, 100 months. And I know social media channels were established to engage and share personal news, but I’m relatively certain that not all of Facebook needs (or wants) to see every single ultrasound picture. We still can’t tell it’s a baby in that blurry picture. Draw a few lines in 2013, ladies.


Donald Trump Political Commentary

I suppose Donald Trump proving himself a giant idiot via political opining wasn’t specific to 2012, but far more “in yo’ face” given the November elections. Though endorsing the same candidate as he, I nearly face-palmed each time The Donald opened his mouth to spew right-winged pearls of wisdom, provide enlightened election commentary, have one-sided debates on the major policy issues at stake and share totally sane  perspectives and opinions on our current legislatures and leaders. Near as I’m concerned, he should just focus on a better Celebrity Apprentice cast for all 2013.

Pouty Professional Sports Leagues

Wishful thinking, I know. But between the NFL referee lockout of the Fall and the current NHL strike, I’m thinking that more grown men cried in 2012 than any other year over the professional sports franchises’ dollar-driven strikes and lockouts. With amateur stand-in refs calling the shots of the NFL games for the entire first quarter of the season, bad calls were made that resulted in skewed scoreboards and led to unjustified losses.  I’m pretty sure that Green Bay population was on suicide watch and the city on riot watch, while the ENTIRE beer-and-wing industry continues to suffer immeasurable losses as the 2012-2013 NHL season remains in jeopardy. In 2013, perhaps these guys need to accept the fact that multi-million dollar salaries are, in fact, ok and leave the wahh behind.

See ya, 2012!


An update to a prior post.

Vinny [name has been slightly altered to protect the identity of parties mentioned] was fired.

Riddle me why?

Apparently, he was “making tenants uncomfortable with awkward conversation.”


Hope he’s ok. And that someone else gets him Snickers bars.


** Unrelated news: I addressed the new doorman as “pledge” this morning.





I have, near religiously, been following the @BitchesLuv Twitter handle as of late. Not just because it’s hilarious (that’s about 41 percent of my reasoning), but more so to wait for an inaccuracy “Luv” that I may be able to refute.

Sadly, there isn’t much (though some inappropriate and targeting the CoEds out there).

Citing everything from “rain boots” to “house parties,” “lazy Sundays” to “taking ‘selfies,’” this handle pretty much nails all-things-B*tches.

Sure, we’re predictable. Despite our moodiness and incessant need to follow and change with the trends. But you brothers? Not so different.

As such I bring you: my take on a @BrothersLuv….


@BrothersLuv: Decorative Packaging.

Doesn’t matter if it’s the same brand, make or model – put that product into a new (colorful? Loud. Shiny? Athlete-endorsed? Easy to grab-and-go) packing and brothers be all over that.

@BrothersLuv: Reminiscing.

“Remember when….”

“Ha, dude – back in school when…”

“There was once, when…”

“A guy I knew back in…..”

“This time at ____ (insert former education, professional, personal interest affiliation)

Could be a job, school, a club, a sports team, party, an event, a former bro, a trip or vacation with their fellow comrades….

Doesn’t matter the site, scene or players: brothers love recounting stories from the days of yore.

@BrothersLuv: Updates

Saying goes “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

This saying does not apply to brothers.

Brothers love version 2.0 (also, 3.0, 4.0 and 2k12). They love sequels. They love re-watching old stuff replay with new commentary.

But it’s updates. So obviously, it’s better.

@BrothersLuv: Stats.

RBIs, voting records, little-known-facts, pointless digits.

Brothers love spewing numbers and statistics in your face. This bodes well for people like me who gravitate toward the written word as opposed to numbers and have failed for 20-some years trying to understand how to keep score in golf.

@BrothersLuv: Half-Full.

One could call it “subliminal optimism.”

Another may call it “hoarding.”

If there’s a plethora or extra resource within an arm’s reach, brothers help themselves before they’re close to completion with current stockpile.

Case in point: you’re seated at a group-dinner setting with a few pitchers of booze milk at the center of table, as well as a sharing-size appetizer. Before his plate or glass is half-empty, BOOM. Like magic, it’s FULL again before close-to-empty.

@BrothersLuv: Accessories.

Girls are all about accessorizing themselves with purses, shoes, jewelry and their spaces with pictures, knick-knacks and keepsakes.

Hate on our “collections,” of bags all you want, brothers. You’re no different.

You are the ones to whip out sunglasses inside at a moment’s notice.

You’re also the sucker who buys the random (pointless, likely noise-making) desk accessory by the cash register. Electronic accessories that serve no purpose (that is, unless you happen to have a ton of spare time on your hands to configure, charge, recharge, reconfigure, reset and restore)? You’ve got three!

How many keyrings are necessary for a like, three keys?

@BrothersLuv: Buttons

It’s as if all brothers have nervous ticks. Or, the natural reflex to see a button and feel a need to push it “just to see what it does.”

No, no one texted or called, or emailed, or tagged you since you last pushed the round/ Home Screen button on your iPhone…38 seconds ago.

@BrothersLuv: Picking Sides

There’s no such thing as neutrality to brothers (it’s like the concept of Sweden is lost upon them). Not necessarily to be confrontational, but brothers be all one-upping each other in nearly every aspect of life. Sports teams, politicians and political affiliations, views on culture, geographic locations, American versus foreign (anything), food…. I could go on.

Bottom line: a brother is always right.

Anyone in the world who disagrees with him? WRONG.


Others? Share ‘em.

Don’t get me wrong. Brothers are lovely people; yet, just as at-fault as us Bi*ches for loving the same…sh*t as the next.