Joy gifts are stocking stuffers, Secret Santa gifts, hostess gifts, pick-up gifts to make the whole enchilada come together nice and neat; just-because gifts, house gifts, glad-you’re-here gifts, glad-I-know-you gifts.  Gifts that are small-ish. Sometimes they’re silly, sometimes precious; it’s all about the Ah-Ha Moment of finding the great little get.

So. Each and every Friday until we all fall down from holiday exhaustion, I’ll do a Joy Gift Friday. I’ll be sending you some nifty gifty things to cut through the chaos and the insanity that comes with the season.

Don’t panic, help is on the way. No need to self-medicate this year to get through it all. Oh, joy!

xxoxxoxo,
Bobbie.

I’ll admit it. The heat really, really gets to me and puts me in a mood most foul. Cranky is being nice. Some crank:

Magazine Subscription Cards.
Why on God’s Green Earth does each and every magazine have to put so many of those pesky little subscription cards in their magazines? In the past week alone, I’ve collected 37. THIRTY-SEVEN. So I’m being really good & evil and mailing them back … blank. Do these people not get it? They need to plug-in big time.

Cell Yell.
Stop it. Just please stop it. Why do I need to hear about your business in the elevator, on the street, in the grocery store, ANYWHERE? And quite frankly, it’s not that interesting … just annoying as hell. And have you noticed that these people move slower when they’re on their cells? … just meandering along like they’re the only people on the planet. Public places do not equal private spaces. Don’t even get me started on texting, which also sends me into orbit.

Current Solution to Cell Yell.
I have actually asked this question of a cell-yeller: “Why are you screaming?” Yeah, I got a dirty look, but it didn’t match the one I gave. So, hah!

Cocktails.
What makes a cocktail cost $15? I’d like to know. There’s no such thing as a cheap buzz anymore. And when the Cell Yell People drive you to drink, you really need a cheap buzz; you know what I’m saying?

Stores with Summer Hours.
Like I’m a mind reader.

Bad A/C.
Yes, it’s a thousand degrees outside. Turn the damn thing on. Blast me with frigid air. I can take it, I really can. It will get rid of my evil twin.

I am thisclose to melting.

xxooxxox,
Bobbie.

Okay, so I thought I would give you some pointers, hints, tips and insider info on what not to do in the City when you visit. You may not care. You should, though. It’s your patriotic duty. An unofficial list (which could change at any moment) on how to be ‘one of us’.

1. Don’t wear clothes 2 sizes too small. Please. We don’t want to see your skin or your panty line or that extra 10+ pounds you’ve been trying to lose for god knows how long. It’s just not pretty.

2. Don’t wear white shorts, even though they go with everything. Yes, they make your butt look big.

3. But please do smile. Cityfolk love that and it’s disarming. We’ll smile back, I promise.

4. Please don’t walk 3- or 4-abreast on the sidewalk. We’re BUSY, and IN A HURRY and will just mow you down or take you out. Besides, I guarantee you that you will be walking much slower than we are. Trust me.

4½. And that brings me to this: Walk faster. Or at least don’t walk in the middle of the sidewalk if you’re strolling. And really, anything less than Mach 1 is strolling.

5. Lose the big white athletic numbers on your feet. It’s a dead giveaway. If you need to wear sneaks, wear Converse. Those godawful Crocs …. well, I wouldn’t go there. They’re only cute on kids, and just barely.

6. Don’t be rude. It’s a lie that New Yorkers are rude. We’re the nicest bunch of people on the planet, so you won’t be blending in at all.

7. If you want to look up at the buildings/architecture across the street, either do so at the curb or at the building side of the street you’re on. And don’t point at that beautiful building you’re looking at. You’re mother told you pointing was rude, didn’t she?

8. Camera around the neck → do we even need to go there? And while we’re at it, ditto fanny packs, belly bags or anything tied, affixed, riveted or annexed to your waist.

9. Bright colors? Nope. White pantyhose, stockings, whatever you want to call them is also a big fat no. Hot pink or purple? Yeah, don’t do that. And don’t even get me started on white socks.

10. Wear black. We do. It’s easy, slimming, goes with everything and chic. What’s better than that?

There you have it. Pretty painless, unless you’re a Croc-lovin’, white shorts wearin’, camera slinger, fanny bagger. But follow these rules and you may just wind-up being the toast of the town!