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You’re stuck in a confined space, suspended 30,000 ft in the sky, with nothing to do for the next nine hours. Airlines try to accommodate you to the best of their abilities for spending a small fortune on their dangerous transportation. There are TV screens with all the latest mind-numbing releases to keep you distracted so you stop pressing the “call” button for the stewardess. As we’ve learned though, the screens are really there not to rob you of watching your plane on the news for four hours in case one of its landing gears doesn’t ascend as planned. There are radio stations so you can pick soothing meditation to match your elevated state like a true yogi. Meals are provided which only work for those who like to stuff their face when they’re nervous and those who’re also sitting on their neighbors unbeknownst to themselves (the airlines conducted surveys and decided those two categories of flyers have the most frequent flyer miles and to hell with everyone else). Alcohol is served to take the edge off and better assist you with finding and making it to the nearest exit in case of an emergency. There are also overhead compartments so you have some leg room and supposedly if they’re tightly shut nothing falls on your head when you least expect it, since that’s the primary concern if the plane takes the occasional nosedive. The instructional video informs of the oxygen masks to play with (remember to secure your own first) before you wake up your neighbor and start attempting to plaster one on their unsuspecting face “just in case”. Broom closets are being passed off as bathrooms to empty whatever has accumulated in the past six hours of sitting in cold sweat. Good luck making it directly into the dwarf toilet with the combination of turbulence and alcohol (I feel sorry for the last person on that line who gets to enjoy the aromas of accumulations of all those ahead of him). There are seat belts  (most ilkely used instead of straight jackets because it’s assumed we’re all mental patients/terrorists), only to be taken off when in line for the broom closet. I say stuff those waiting in line into the overhead compartments so they don’t fall on our heads. The flight attendants are supposed to be at your beck and call (unfortunately they do everything in their power for you not to bother them). Basically you’re sitting there strapped to your tiny seat with the oxygen mask on, stuffed, drunk, and afraid to get up and use the bathroom because the all-powerful captain hasn’t turned off the seatbelt sign. Have a pleasant flight!

The fine line between beauty and the opposite of beauty

Have you ever noticed how a person can look amazing one day and like the bum next door the day after? I’ve never been able to solve this mystery and it always interested me. How does one individual have two faces and who is responsible for picking which side of the coin will show up on any given day? We all wake up and hope for the best but sometimes hoping is not enough. I’ve read some helpful advice, claiming to be written for those having an “off” day but basically for extremely unattractive folks. Use this information as you see fit.

Smile
You're on candid surveillance. This is like a slap in the face because if you look bad what’s there to smile about, your debt? You’ll feel even worse about yourself if you happen to be endowed with the lips of an ape and the teeth of a chronic tobacco and caffeine abuser. Should you smile anyway? I think that would require a serious self-esteem to be able to pull off without being considered offensive. This advice needs to be amended to: Smile ONLY if you have a pleasant smile, or have nothing left to lose, otherwise don’t bother. Of course feel free to smile in the privacy of your own home as much as you like.

Take care of your skin
I know people who’ve been using so many facial creams, masks, Proactive solutions-you name it. They are still old and pimply. Are they just having some off days? This suggestion makes them question if they’re using enough. Here’s a thought: Maybe all those products are the ones making them look bad.

Be nice, kind and polite
Again, like smiling, I wonder why would anyone be in a good mood if they’re sitting there looking like sasquatch? We expect those people to be rude and mean. It would be extremely unsettling if a disheveled witchy woman came up to me smiling and in high spirits, offering me tea with biscuits while showering me with compliments. You are how you look (not what you eat), so please act accordingly.

Don’t compare yourself to others
But how do I stop others from comparing themselves to me? All of a sudden I will have a surge in popularity because more people would accompany me to lunch solely for the purpose of looking better in comparison. Moreover, how does not paying attention to others make one feel less hideous unless the side effect is disappearing mirrors? Notice there is no ban, however, of comparing yourself to yourself. If I see a bad image of me and still remember the good the end result is the same: automatically deflated mood.

I don’t know who this is trying to fool but if you fall for it than you’re also having a bad day in the cerebral department in addition to your failing looks. Stay tuned for advice on what to do if you’re not up to par mentally (either today or most days).

Beware of hidden vitamin killers

Ah, the pleasantries of going through the dreaded physical exam. In the past week, I’ve been tested, prodded, pinned and needled, sampled, and interrogated. My arms swelled, my eyes bulged, and my skin chapped. I’ve never been more beautiful.
Still the experts have not been able to determine what ails me. The best they’ve come up with was a severe vitamin D deficiency. I turned to google for worst case scenarios. It turns out that besides a futile attempt at ruining my looks, this quiet culprit boosts the chances of diabetes and osteoporosis. Thankfully, this can all be avoided by basking in some UV radiation. While deficiency is bad, so is an overabundance. I have to choose carefully. Milk or cod liver oil? Supplements or tanning salons? The prospect of my treatment alone, gets me excited. Yesterday at lunch, once I heard the disturbing diagnosis, I flew out the back of my building, threw off my sunglasses, and sprawled out on the cold stony bench (obviously also having a problem with Vitamin D absorption). The patrons of the same building were casually eating lunch (oblivious to my condition) and taking up all the space, which could’ve been used by those with a real “D-isability”. I’ve noticed that people only start caring about a particular cause once it directly affects them. They set up charities, donate to research, hold press conferences-all for “the cure”. I am thinking of becoming the voice for all the vitamin D deficients out there. I will start small, like posting signs, not unlike the ones we see on the subways every day, on the beaches and other sunny areas. “Get your healthy butt outta here and make some room for your fellow brethren, who may be in danger of osteoporosis. Oh yeah, it’s the law!” If you have a fair complexion, the consequences may either be a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, you will always have a seat if you look too pale and sickly. On the other, you will finally see how many people consider you pale and sickly.

Loopy mon/Mono ploy

Monopoly is evil. It unscrambles into a shady Jamaican calling you crazy or a ploy to pass on Mono. It brings out the Jew in your Hispanic friends and it makes your Jewish friends live up to every single negative stereotype. All of a sudden the sweet innocents become lucrative deal makers and business owners. Where were you during the Apprentice auditions?
My mind works differently. When they say this is a game of chance, they ain’t kiddin’. To give you an idea how chance works: I don’t know the value of money, I suck at negotiating, and I just don’t give two craps. Armed with that information and the fact that it was my very first time playing, guess who won?
This game proves that people go crazy over any kind of money, even the fake kind, and all of us want to be wealthy real estate owners. Nothing feels better than charging poor suckers rent-evidenced by the delirious rush of excitement when your best friend lands on your property. You can show your true colors without appearing greedy or immoral. If I ever had to collect rent from a friend I’d have to act cool and collected but if I confiscate said friend’s life savings and housing during Monopoly I’m allowed to jump for joy. I now have an idea of what landlords do in the privacy of their home when all the checks come in.