I feel bad for Thanksgiving though because it’s like the red-headed stepchild of Halloween and Christmas. As soon as Halloween is over, I jump at the thought that we’ll soon be cooking turkey, making stuffing and spending time with family and friends.  Sadly, as soon as Halloween is over for most, especially retailers, we are thrown right into Christmas. Can’t we give Thanksgiving a chance?

I know Christmas is the holiday almost everyone (who celebrates that is) gets most excited about. Advertisers throw out the big guns to make those end-of-year profits, kids get excited for presents and let’s be honest, who can compete with Santa Claus? But over the last few years, Christmas has been making an early appearance on TV and in stores, leaving poor Thanksgiving in the dust.

Even when Thanksgiving does get some props, it’s mostly because of Black Friday sales and the start of the holiday shopping season. And these days, deals are being launched before you even put down your drumstick!

I don’t need to be swayed, but I hope that I can convince some of you to enjoy one holiday at a time. Give Thanksgiving a chance – don’t let it be trampled on by Christmas trees and tinsel. Be thankful for the occasion that reminds us to give thanks for all we have and shows us that holiday is truly about family and friends, not Black Friday deals and doorbusters.

I know that it is sometimes difficult to tell if a woman is expecting; come on, let’s be honest. But when you see a woman resting her hand on her very large belly that is rounder than that of say an overweight person, you offer her your seat or politely just stand up making the seat available.

In the last week, I have seen two women who are clearly having babies denied a seat on the PATH which I think is disgusting (note: yes, I am standing!). The first time was when the conductor had to literally ask passengers to get up from their seats for a woman who looked as if she was ready to pop.

The next time this happened, I got kind of annoyed and said something. A woman got on the train and stood next to me. She seemed to get a little lost in the shuffle while boarding. It took a minute or two to notice she was pregnant, but she was trying to make it as obvious as possible.

In the seats in front of us were two passengers, a man and woman. They both acknowledged the woman, but didn’t offer her their seat. I understand that they may not have recognized she was pregnant, but in time, my gut tells me they did. These two repeatedly stared this woman down, kept looking at her and for the reactions of those around them. It was almost like they didn’t know what to do or were hoping no one saw them deny this woman seating.

In the end, the pregnant woman was left standing. As I approached the Christopher Street station, I took it upon myself to say, “Don’t you think it would be nice to offer your seat to a pregnant woman?” I don’t know if anyone offered that woman their seat, but at least I knew I did my part to help her.

It’s definitely tough to tell if someone is expecting, but when in doubt, just get up and stand; give women an option to sit. If nothing else, you help out another human being. If you have two legs, stand and be happy you paid it forward.

Unlike many of those I know, I cringe when August comes around, as the heat and humidity have already been enough for one season. While I love sitting on a beach all day, the crisp fall air and smell of spice really brings a smile to my face. I adore fall.

Jamming in the car on my way to work, the return of fall, even if only for a day, reminded me of that first day of school, where you put on your new outfit and start the year off with a clean slate. While clean slates are fewer and far between  as we get older, a day like today really brings me back.

Fall to me represents so many delicious things. The leaves change colors and it gets darker earlier. It means shopping for some of the best clothes and shoes that come out all year.  It’s apple and pumpkin picking. Fall brings football and parties, giving you the chance to see your friends again (all of whom have been at other parties, weddings, the shore or vaca). It’s a chance to shed your summer self and get cozy with your friends and family.

Whether you love or hate fall, breathe in the fresh air and use today as a reason to start anew.

Guilty or not, Antony will soon walk free. She will entertain hundreds of book and movie deals, maybe a reality show. Who knows, they’ll probably even give her a talk show (who doesn’t have one nowadays?). I get that. While I don’t agree with it, I understand it. She was the one involved, the one being accused and likely the only one who knows what happened to Caylee. That’s entertainment for America. What I don’t agree with is jurors trying to sell their stories to the media for compensation.

Juror #6 retained representation and is granting interviews for a 5-figure deal after serving on the jury of Anthony’s trail. The letter from his rep was posted on TMZ. I’m sure he isn’t the only one.

I’m all about making a buck, but I draw the line at jurors selling their stories for a profit. It’s your civic duty to serve on a jury. While most people hate it, understandably so, I don’t think you should capitalize on the public’s growing appetite for sensationalism in the unsolved death of a two-year-old girl.

I appreciate that these 12 people gave up their time (and probably their sanity) to come to a “just” conclusion. That doesn’t mean they need to profit from the murder of an innocent little girl. Apparently Florida agrees with me too. A state representative and local attorney are currently drafting a bill that would keep jurors from profiting right away following a verdict. Support it!

I am not that good at yoga. I have been giving it a valiant effort and have definitely stepped up my skills since my last stab it, but I’m not counting on starting my own studio any time soon.

I have to admit, yoga stresses me out. Go ahead, laugh. I know, it sounds absurd. Something that is supposed to be completely Zen and relaxing does the exact opposite for me. I worry if I am doing the poses correctly, if I am breathing in that “special yoga way” and if I’m using the right body parts.

I am person who is in my head more than I should be, but to me, doing yoga is like playing Twister. I’m upside down, pretzel like, not knowing if I’m moving right when they say left while I try to figure out how to roll up one vertebra at a time. Yet, I’m starting to enjoy it, as much as it stresses me out. I am hoping the calmness yoga is supposed to bring will find me soon. In the meantime, Namaste.

Recently, I have received a lot of calls and emails from people in the industry looking for PR work. Some are just out of school, some are looking for a career change and sadly, some have been laid off.

Having been out of work for over a year in 2009, I am more than happy to offer any assistance in that department. I know how important connections are and how beneficial networking can be, which is why I don’t think twice about giving back. Help was given to me when I needed it, so I like to think I’m paying it forward.

Recently however, I have found that acquaintances and people who have reached out to me because they are connected to me personally or professionally have zero appreciation for my help. Now don’t get me wrong, my close friends don’t fall into this bucket, but I find it so hard to believe that anyone that offers you help or that you look to for guidance  (especially someone you don’t know all that personally) doesn’t even bat an eye when you’re giving up your time for them.

For example, a guy I work with asked if there were PR openings in my department and if I could assist his friend Cindy with some leads I might be aware of. I was happy to help. The girl reached out to me and I sent her names of recruiters and some background info. I never heard from her again.

A former colleague asked if I could help a family friend apply to a media program my company was hiring for. She reached out to me and I submitted her resume along with a recommendation (it turns out she was also an alumna of my alma mater). I emailed to let her I had done the paperwork and gotten her resume to human resources. I also reached out to the man I used to work with to give him an update. Neither acknowledged my contribution.

A few months ago, a friend reached out to me to see if I could help her friend in his job search. I sent him some listings I knew of from PR groups I was a part of and also some tips on what helped me with my job search. He fell off the planet. When I told our friend, she seemed surprised, but it didn’t make a difference.

Look, I don’t need to be thanked for every single thing I do (hello, I work in PR, one of the most thankless jobs out there), but if you don’t know me, and if you do, but not really all that well, show a little appreciation that I went out of my way for you. I know people’s situations change and life is hectic, but you should never burn bridges. I learned that early on in my career. If someone is willing to take time out of their schedule to help you in a job search or anything else for that matter, make sure to recognize their efforts. It’s really not hard.

So to all you folks who are “networking” and “connecting,” don’t forget those that are trying to help you. It’ll go a long, long way.

The weather is seriously putting a cramp in both my styling and closet. Usually this time of year, I start putting the sweaters in a bin in the closet hidden away with the rest of my winter essentials. I live in a one-bedroom apartment in Hoboken which is lovely, but limited on space for two grown people, so I’m forced to pack away. You see, I share a closet with my husband who also has tons of clothes and most recently started appreciating my shoe addiction by starting one of his own, leaving me with even less (of our already limited) space.

Needless to say, I have been unable to store what I normally do this time of year because the climate is having a serious identity crisis. Today I am in suede boots, yet last week, I was wearing the summer dresses and sandals. And it’s not just me! At work, some people are in sweaters, while others are sporting espadrille wedges. Something seriously needs to give.

Who wouldn’t be confused? What do you wear when it’s 50 degrees in the morning, but hits 75 in the mid- to late afternoon and rains every day? I feel like I need separate outfits and accessories  before leaving the house and an entirely new shoe regimen.

So my dear Mother Nature, I kindly ask that you move forward to the warm weather (and less rain just because I miss the sun) so I can utilize what little space I have and dress without such utter confusion!

Every morning, my husband mocked Today or the Early Show for their incessant reporting of the Royal Wedding. I started to feel his pain. A day did not go by that we didn’t hear about invitations, who’d be designing Kate’s dress, who was or wasn’t on the guest list. It had been non-stop.

I had just about enough when I spoke to a colleague in London who told me more about the festivities. She said the event had been declared a public holiday and the excitement was everywhere. While she wasn’t planning on watching this monumental moment with hundreds of thousands of spectators outside Westminster Abbey, she said the British sure knew how to put on a celebration and that was thrilling for so many people.

I became so intrigued by what it must be like to be in such close proximity to the Royal Wedding, I wasn’t so bothered by all the attention it was receiving; instead, I was curious! I suddenly became interested in many, but not all (Al Roker’s London weather reports and Erica Hill trying on hats), of the details. I started reading the online news items from People, Us Weekly and CNN that I normally would’ve skipped over.  I even went to the Royal Wedding website! Oh the shame!

While I am not totally sucked in, I finally realized what an exciting moment this must be for so many people. If nothing else, it’s a happy time; one that celebrates love and a fairy tale that many girls grow up dreaming about (marrying a prince!). Nowadays, all we hear about is the bad happening in the world. This is a joyous refresher.

So while I don’t plan on getting up at 4:00 a.m. to watch the latest wedding coverage, I will no longer be groaning at the sound of Kate Middleton’s name. Instead, I will be anxiously waiting to see what she wore!

I have lived in Hoboken for over 10 years, both uptown and downtown, and have never owned a parking spot. I constantly struggle to find a place to park my car legally, praying that someone doesn’t hit me (which has happened more than I would like to recall). Yet, it never ceases to amaze me the lengths that people will go to find a spot in town.

Today for example, I had to move my car from its Wednesday spot to avoid a street cleaning ticket. If at all possible, I try and find a space where I don’t have to move more than twice a week. I found a Monday spot which was perfect, but a man was preventing me from parking there. He was “saving” the spot.

I motioned from my car window that you can’t save spots. It’s not a table at a restaurant where you’re waiting for the rest of your party to show up. While I watched him ignore me, I then rolled down my window and told him that even though I could find another spot, you can’t just stand and “hold” a space for someone. He told me a van was on its way and they needed to be in that specific spot. I went on to tell him if that were true, there would be designated signs blocking it off. He didn’t give a shit. He just stood there smoking his cigarette, waiting for his friend to arrive.

This is not the first, nor worst, that I have seen with this type of behavior in Hoboken. My favorite instance was a few years back when a girl was standing in a spot on Washington and 11th Streets one weekend evening. As I proceeded to pull into the spot, I saw her standing there, smack in the middle where a car should be. I continued to move into the space, figuring she was just waiting for a friend, or a taxi perhaps, and would step aside. Little did I know, she was holding the spot for someone.

I had been driving around for nearly a half hour; the last thing I wanted to do was deal with some dumbass out-of-towner who believed in saving spots like a lounge chair at the Shipyard pool (which is a whole separate story in and of itself). And I certainly didn’t want to keep looking for a place to park when there was one right there.

Just like I did with the guy this morning, I told her she couldn’t save parking spots. That’s when she asked me who was going to stop her. After I thought about it, she was right, who was going to prevent her from just hanging out there waiting for her friend to show up? She could have been there all night. As I began to drive away feeling frustrated and defeated, I saw her lay on the pavement in the dark, all just to save a parking spot. Someone could have clearly ran this girl over, as she was no longer visible to drivers who saw an empty space. All for parking!

I know parking in Hoboken sucks to the tenth power, but you can’t save spots. It’s wrong, unethical and unfair to those who have been driving around looking endlessly for places to park. It’s first come first serve, not first come, first save. Do your part.

It has been announced that these two entities want to curb your caloric intake by disclosing nutritional figures for theater concession stands. When I first heard the news, I almost gagged.

I know we are a weight obsessed country, endlessly counting fat and calories, debating if celebrities are too thin or too fat, but this is ridiculous. Haven’t we all heard how bad movie theater popcorn is for us? Everything in moderation people. A tub of popcorn from your favorite theater is not going to kill you. Eat it every day and there might be cause for concern, but seriously, how many people are eating that much popcorn?

Sometimes, the popcorn is the best part of the movie-going experience. If I want to count calories, I’ll go to Weight Watchers. If I want to indulge, shouldn’t I be able to do so without the government forcing me to know exactly how many calories I’m consuming?

I understand some restaurants have to put nutritional information on their menus, but the theater is a place you go to immerse yourself in fantasy, science-fiction, romance or belly-aching laughs, not feel bad about treating yourself to a tub of buttery goodness every now and then.

So please, kindly step off my movie theater popcorn. I’m going to continue eating at my own risk…and enjoyment!