Coming down with a case of the hiccups can be one of life's biggest annoyances and I come down with the hiccups often. I think there was a month in college where I pretty much hiccuped ALL. MONTH. I’ve even asked my doctor how to stop them.
So some people have told me to suck on a sugar cube and some people wanna scare the shit ouf of you – nothing works for me. Once I get them, it’s a chronic nuisance.
And of all the random pitches sent to my inbox since I’ve had this blog, none got my attention as quickly as the one for Hicural, an over-the-counter effective hiccup cure.
Of course, once I got the item in my hands, I only had to wait for the hiccups to come! And then, of course, they didn’t. For two weeks. For three weeks. I was so annoyed! Surely the cure was not just to POSESS the Hicural. Of all the times for them to NOT hit me… Ridiculous.
Mind you, I could have given one of YOU the Hicural, but come on. Giveaways have never been a hit on here and frankly, I wanted this.
The research: Hicural is a simple tool made from a polypropylene compound, providing relief in just a few seconds. Simply place the tool in your mouth, bite down, enjoy a nice glass of water and voila! Your hiccups are going, going, GONE! Having even been addressed by health expert Dr. Oz and other television personalities such as Kelly Ripa, hiccups are anything but uncommon; but just because they're a common occurrence doesn’t mean you have to deal with them!
And then this morning, a miracle – I got the hiccups (well normally, this is like an every day occurrence for me, but like I said - it’s now been three weeks since I got the Hicural and BAM! Nothing). And I put the gizmo in my mouth and despite feeling like a moron, IT WORKED.
No joking, people. It worked. I’m not saying it wasn’t all in my head but DO I CARE? NO. Because I cured my hiccups. And I’m telling you, this has never happened before.
The Hicural now lives in my purse.
And they lived happily ever after.
As it happens, I do like to bitch and moan sometimes (ok, I do it often) and this week, I was reflecting on how much Facebook, Twitter and the like have changed the way we socialize. I was thinking that soon, someone was going to have to intehrate online etiquette into Emily Post's lesson plan.
Keeping in mind that these are derived of my own beliefs and opinions, here are some "case studies" on the matter which might inspire your online etiquette:
Twitter stalkers. This one time, I saw a celebrity at a sushi restaurant and I tweeted about it. Within days, legions of his fans were following me on Twitter. Next thing I knew, a couple of them were wishing me a good morning AND a good night. EVERY. DAY. It was incredibly irritating. Mostly because they were on another continent and as they told me good morning, I was going to bed... They got blocked. They got the hint.
Pinterest loons. I realize the very nature of the site is to share things with people but we should all be out in the internets, finding unique things to bring to the table. If you're going to sign on and just repin every single thing I pin, you're missing the point. You're also annoying me. FYI, that's how I came to make this pin.
Furthermore, random company or person, do not tweet, direct message, or pin something that implies you are awesome and I should follow you. That is essentially the #1 way to make sure I do the opposite.
Overcommenting. Heads up - I work in PR and I'm on Facebook and Twitter ALL DAY, but even I can resist the urge to comment on everything I see posted to my timeline. And I appreciate that you think I am awesome, but it kind of creeps me out when you comment on any and all things I post. Within minutes. (And that goes double if you are a mere acquaintance, not someone I know well.)
Lack of response. If it is your intention to NOT write back to people's comments, then you are in the wrong place, bub. Start a diary. Keep it on your bedside table.
Politics and religion. I'm not saying it doesn't belong on the internet but you'd better believe it's going to start a dialogue. That may go on forever. Don't be all surprised.
Don't be an asshole. You post something that makes you happy and someone shits all over it. You post a fact and someone immediately points out how wrong you are. You're loving this weather and someone tells you it's going to rain. Your baseball team is winning and someone wants to remind you how many games out of first they are... Don't be that guy. Never be that guy.
Abusing the Twitter. If you wanna chat with a friend, use AIM. Use your DMs. I don't need to know about your dinner plans in my feed.
Play-by-play blogs. You know why wants to read a recount of your day in great detail? Almost no one.
Game invites. Hey facebooker, if you've invited me to feed your horse on your ranch 18 times and I haven't yet, I'm not going to. I am glad you enjoy that game; it's just not my thing.
I could probably go on. I'm sure I have more however I'd hate to alienate everyone I'm friends with. As it is now, I'm pretty sure a couple of you are going to leave critical comments... Which is fine. I took that into consideration before writing this.
I also asked some fellow bloggers what their social media pet peeves were as well:
As a spin-off, if I may, some Blogger pet peeves. Take note of this, fellow bloggers. As a blogger AND publicist, I am in a unique postion to help you. Does that soung a little smug? Probably. Doesn't mean I'm wrong, though!
Identify yourself. You're clearly blogging. On the internet. Throw us a bone, writers. Tell us your first name. Give us an e-mail address. Gmail is free so there's no excuse. Spam sucks but it's a fact of life. Get over it. Just be smart enough not to click on any links that look dodgy.
Don't say yes to everything. We can smell that a mile away.
Send links. Once you've written about something, be a publicist's best friend and forward them a link to the story. Bonus points if you also include a link to the Facebook and Twitter posts about it.
Be nice. It used to be that publicists needed you more than you needed them but let's be honest -- there are THOUSANDS of blogs out there. We may still need you, but not as desperately as some would like to believe. A little courtesy goes a long way.
What the's #1 way to make a publicist immediately close your site? SOUND. Don't play music or especially ads with sound. Horrible.
Can I just start this off by telling you my HEAD is KILLING me?! Dear god, there is something wrong up there. This concussion is out to get me. I'm pretty over it. Also, I could really use a strong pain pill (I'm not going to - but damn). I realize being on my laptop is really not the best thing for me... I simply cannot sit still. It's useless to try. So please expect me to complain about aches and pains, futily, for a while. If it bugs you too much and you wanna read something else, may I suggest this profundity.
I've been trying to wrap my brain around being 33. For some reason, I was really dreading my birthday this year. I basically had to be talked into celebrating and the day of, I very nearly bailed on everything to stay in bed and be a mope. (I'm not kidding- the thought toally crossed my mind.)
I think I've mentioned -- I've been telling people that I'm 33 for anwhile now. It started as "Oh, I'm almost 33" and somehow became "33." Maybe that has something to do with it. I absent mindedly robbed myself of the climax.
I think what it really boils down to is perspective. I remember being 5 or even 15... Someone my age seemed so OLD to me. Someone my age had a husband and kids and a grown up job. My mom did. Actiually, when my mom was 33, I was already 8 years old. My brother was 6. My parents had already been married for over 10 years. They lived in a house - that they owned - with a big backyard and a dog.
And I'm so distant from any of that. At my 33, my career has barely taken shape. I live in an apartment that I share and rent. I am not only unmatched, I am stoically single. And I do not mean to devalue my friends or my life in general -- it's pretty great and I know that -- I just wonder if this all lay in the back of my mind somehow and that's what loomed over me as I was dreading this year's birthday.
But let's be honest, folks. I'm 33... at the maturity level of a 16 year old. ;)
A few weeks ago, a friend and I went to see The Lucky One. Whenever I see sappy movies with said friend, she always sobs and I remain rather stoic.
It's not that I am immune to sentiment, but only a handful of movies make me cry and they are all totally random. For example, Mr. Holland's Opus. It must be the swell of music but that scene at the end just KILLS me. I've tested it out a couple times recently to be sure -- I simply cannot survive the final scene without a fit of tears.
(Ok, seriously, I just looked up the scene on YouTube, and I CRIED AGAIN. Seriously! I didn't even watch the whole movie, people. There's clearly something wrong with my wiring.)
For the record, Steel Magnolias also always nails me. It's the southern accents. It makes everything seem even more tragic.
But it's interesting that when I see a movie like The Lucky One, which I shockingly enjoyed but is pretty much constructed to make people swoon over Zac Efron and then burst into tears, that I remain unmoved. And it inevitably leads to me joiking around that I have no soul and never cry.
Which, since I'm at it, is REALLY interesting because, well, I CRY A LOT.
It's true. It's a badly kept secret so I don't mind saying it. I cried today, in fact. My head started to hurt around lunchtime and on came the waterworks. Same thing on Wednesday night. Sometimes I get mad at myself for being mad and I cry. Sometimes a conversation doesn't go the way I want it to and I cry... Those abandoned dog commercials that are on at like 3 AM when they play Sarah MacLachlan? CRYING LIKE A FOOL. I'm a planner, people, and when things don't go according to plan? I often experience a private little tantrum.
In short, I'm not quite the statue I would often try to convince myself that I am. And I guess I felt the need to let you all on this personal struggle of mine.
Coming soon: Things that make me happy, brave, angry, etc. I may run the whole gambit of shit that makes me emotional.
And now, for your pleasure (and let's be honest, for mine as well), a gratuitous, hot photo of Zac Efron:
I love wine because it make me feel like a grown up.
A grown up who giggles like a four year old watching puppies play on the floor.
I love wine because it makes me brave.
So brave I contemplate running into the cold rain on my front lawn…in my underwear.
I love wine because of it’s anti-aging properties.
It’s proof positive that sometimes getting older really does mean getting better.
I love wine because you pour it into pretty glasses.
Pretty glasses just like the forty-two pretty glasses I just unpacked in my kitchen.
I love wine because it’s an all weather beverage.
Unlike lemonade or hot chocolate, wine is cold going in, but warm going down.
I like wine because wine doesn’t care if I’ve shaved my legs.
Or brushed my teeth, or washed my hair, or sat around in sweat pants all day.
I love wine because it speaks French.
And it makes me speak French when I say Cabernet…or Chardonnay.
I love wine because it’s best friends with cheese.
And who doesn’t love cheese?
I love wine because it’s healthy for my heart.
After only two glasses I start to feel all romantic.
And I love wine because I drank some…
But I suspect I won’t love it in the morning.
Until the next time…I’ll be nursing a wine hangover.