Isn't it ironic?

Yeah sure, I'm not the first to say it...and either is Alanis Morrisette for that matter...but I'll be damned if it ain't true. Life is pretty freakin' ironic. And here are some perfect examples that prove my point...

I along with my fellow forty-something sisters, battle the dating world, which has morphed dramatically in the past couple of decades. Back in the day, the name of the game was "find a husband, have kids or die" -- and now, years later, with our own homes, money, lifestyle, freedom, and babies out of the equation -- the notion of someone to date and "just have fun with" is far more compelling than having a husband. Ironic. Ya know what else is ironic, I think I am thinking like a man. Isn't it ironic? A little too ironic.

Next ironic item. A few months ago I bought the cutest little puppy -- a three-pound Yorkie-poo/would-be-purse-accessory named Allie. I had such visions for Allie. She was going to peek out of her LV carrier wearing a rhinestone collar and cashmere sweater and look all cute and glam. Of slight, Kate Moss-of-the-canine-world-stature, she was to grow to a mere six pounds. Oh the sample sales at which we could score! What happens? My dog is 18 pounds and totally butch. I'd describe her as more NASCAR than Narcisco Rodriguez, more Mets bullpen than Badgley Mischka, more Lee Toughriders than True Religion. Listen -- I love this dog more than you can imagine -- but you have to agree -- it's ironic.

File this under "isn't it ironic" too ... I am not the least bit technically inclined. In fact, I have a hard time opening a lock with a key (I wish this was an exaggeration)... I fight with my BlackBerries (BOTH of them)...I curse my laptops (BOTH of them)...I don't watch DVDs out of principle (plus I can't get the player to work)...and I definitely shun text messaging (which makes dating in 2008 a challenge). Sooooo, what happens? I start my own blog. Ironic, technically speaking.

Let's talk about this irony. I buy a beautiful new car -- shiny, sexy and white -- representative of my fresh start in life...and with this car comes six free months of SIRIUS satellite radio. The very idea of paying for the radio made me laugh out loud (for you texters - that would be"LOL")...anyway, it was free and I wasn't going to use it -- but what the heck. So what happens? I fall in LOVE (for you texters, that would be "LOVE") with channel 37 -- The Strobe -- non-stop disco...DIVINE! I would sing along to the likes of Sylvester and Evelyn Champagne King, and simply daydream about the days of waiting on line to get into clubs, drinking sloe gin fizzes and dancing the night (and morning) away! Pure bliss. So when the six months were up and I was faced with paying for my disco fix, I coughed up the credit card and renewed. Last weekend, I get into the car with my friend and tell her excitedly "you have to listen to this fabulous station -- it's 37." We click through and see 36 and then 38 -- but no 37. Huh? It has fallen off the face of the earth. Yes, as part of the merger with XM (sp?), they'd off'ed 37, insisting that 7 -- "The Best of the 70's" would offer the same music. C'mon -- are they SIRIUS? Apparently yes...and this whole situation -- quite ironic.

Ironically yours,
Andy