I have to return some videotapes.

Please Cut It Out, 2011

2011-02-03T08:45:00.000-08:00

My father passed away last week. I was flying home from my business trip, and when I got home my mom gave me the news. Anytime your mom calls you at 11:45 pm, you know it’s not going to be good.
We’d been preparing as a family for the inevitable, but no amount of preparing does you any good when you actually hear it. I’m still trying to make sense of it all, but I just hope my family can make peace with his death and the cause of it.
My mom, sister and brother all flew to Boston so we could at least gather and give each other a hug in person. In a way, the repairing that happened over Christmas prepared us a little more for this, but it also sort of felt like another family gathering he wasn’t present at.
I’m not sure if the gravity of his death will really be felt until we gather once again this summer to scatter his ashes. It’s been a really rough week, but I’m very grateful to have such amazing friends checking on me every day. My apartment is filled with flowers right now, and also an amazing, chocolate-filled gift basket from Zabar's. I’m so lucky to have a wonderful family and amazing friends to take care of me when I need it.
I really need to have a heart-to-heart with 2011, because it wasn’t listening to me very well when I asked it to please be kind. 2011 is kind of a dick, and while we have a lot of work to do to make it better, it’s getting easier day by day.

The One About the One-Legged Prostitute

2011-01-19T15:12:00.000-08:00

For the next week, I'm going to be doing some traveling for work. I'm in Los Angeles now and then early Saturday morning I'm headed to Chicago. Because the weather has been so frigid in Boston lately (Nine degrees on Monday!), I decided to stay at the beach during my time here.
Now, I know Venice Beach has its "reputation" as being a place for the down and out or characters, as they're sometimes called, but throwing caution to the wind and trusting the pictures I saw online, I booked a room, eagerly anticipating the sound of waves and the salty air.
Typically when I travel, I like to book at mom-and-pop hotels because you're supporting a local business and there's usually a little more attention paid to the customer. I may never do that again after what happened today.
I park my rental car, and start walking to the hotel, I notice a few of the Venice characters roaming about: the woman wearing rollerblades laying in the middle of the street (sidenote: dead? maybe?), the man with the biggest dreadlocks I've ever seen in my whole life, the young couple sitting in a shopping cart together, etc. Then, I round the corner and see my hotel.
Outside, there are more characters, including a woman on crutches with one leg, wearing a see-through shirt, and her friend, who looks very possessive of her, ifyouknowwhatImean. I keep my head down and walk into the lobby, which is in shambles. Continuing with my "benefit of the doubt" attitude, I start the check-in process. The young lady and the gentleman come inside and push the elevator button, and the woman behind the desk says they're not allowed to enter the building anymore.
She says, "You are not guests here; you need to leave. There's been reports of thefts. We know what you're doing up there."
The woman is very obviously intoxicated (and, uh, also missing a leg), and tries to grab the counter and misses. She falls backwards and SLAMS her head into the wall. I'm standing there speechless, with my eyes bulging and my hand over my mouth in horror.
The guy helps her up and tries to move her to the lobby couch, and the woman behind the desk says, "You still need to leave. Get out of here."
Now, THIS is the point where most people would leave. I chose to view it as an isolated incident, and said, "Room 310, you say? And, how do I get wireless Internet again?"
I go up to my room, and it's disgusting. It's incredibly hot with no air conditioner (usually not a problem at the beach, but I LOVE sleeping in a cold hotel room), the toiletries had been used and my pillow case had black scuff marks all over it.
On the verge of tears, I sit on the bed searching online for a new hotel and feel so bad for having to go downstairs and tell the woman at the front desk that I'm unhappy. I really hate complaining, but I think a one-legged prostitutes, dirty sheets and used soap are legitimate reasons to now be typing this from a cushy Sheraton that serves Starbucks coffee in the rooms.

2010: A Year in Review

2010-12-30T08:16:00.000-08:00

I was emailing with my friend Lillie the other day about how our holidays went, and I told her that I couldn’t believe how far we have both come and how much has happened to us in the last year. In January, when I was still living in NY, we went to Borders together after going to the gym. Waiting in a massive line to buy our discounted calendars, we were talking about how Christmas 2009 went (horrible) and how our families were (in shambles). Almost a year later, with lots of ups and downs for both of us, we’re in pretty good places in our lives. I’ll let her handle her end of things, but here is a little review of 2010 for me, in no particular order:

1. I trained for two half marathons, and ran one. The reason I signed up for the races is because I really hate running – at least I thought I did. It turns out, that once I’m past four miles; I enjoy it. The fact that I have to get to four to feel that way is sort of terrible though. Anyway, I ran the race and completed all my goals: don’t die, finish in under three hours and don’t have to pee in the woods. 2010: The Year of “I’ll Take the Physical Challenge”.
2. I went to Costa Rica with two of my best friends. We explored the rain forest, stayed at a luxury resort, met the dumbest nature guide in the world, got drunk before 9 am and laughed a ton. 2010: The Year of Exploration.
3. I moved from New York City to Boston. I never really wanted to move to New York in the first place, but moved for love. That didn’t work out, but I fell in love with a lot of amazing people there. I miss my New York friends SO much it hurts, but we’re fortunate to be pretty close to each other. Luckily, I’ve been able to have 1-2 visitors a month since moving up here. I know I made the right decision to move, and I’ve been so lucky to have made a lot of new friends and also reconnect with old friends. 2010: The Year of Changed Addresses.
4. I’ve come to terms with how I look. Like most people, I grew up with a mom who was very critical of her looks in front of me. This developed a lot of unhealthy habits when I was younger, but now when I look in the mirror I don’t see a horror show. I see someone who is actually kind of cute, and sometimes pretty. I’m also more confident about my body, too. Of course I can always find the parts that should be thinner and all that noise, but I’m OK with how I look … finally. I’m trying not to get wrapped up in being annoyed at myself for all that time wasted thinking I was a big, fat mess and just focus on the positive: my traffic jam booty and my cupcakes. 2010: The Year of Vanity.
5. I put myself “out there” as far as dating goes. This year I’ve gone on more dates than ever. While nothing has really panned out, I’m proud of myself for at least trying. I’ve been (mostly) single for the last three years, but I’ve met a lot of different types of guys – some crazy and others crazier. 2010: The Year of Dating.
6. I had a fling with a hot “teen” model/stand-up comedian. He was really 24, but same difference, and he thought I was gorgeous and hilarious. 2010: The Year of Holy Crap, You’re So Hot, Wait, Those Are Considered Washboard Abs, Right, and You Want to Make Out with Me?!
7. I was a vegan for three hours. 2010: The Year of Bacon.
8. I’ve already detailed out stuff about my dad on here, so let’s move on, but it’s been a long year for me emotionally. I’m not the best at talking about my feelings; I’m better at listening to other people’s problems. This year I’ve gotten much, much better at talking about things of substance. In fact, I talked for about 10 minutes straight about my feelings a few months ago. It was incredible. 2010: The Year of Feelings About Feelings.
9. I went camping with some of my best friends in Boston. We slept in tents, on the ground, in 40 degree weather. We ate so many meals that we had to come up with new names for them (Breakfast, B’Breakfast, Brunch, B’Brunch and “Uhhhhh”). We wrapped everything in bacon and put it in an iron skillet and then put it in our mouths. 2010: The Year of (More) Bacon.

A lot more happened, but that’s the highlight reel. I’m not really sure what’s on deck for 2011, but I’m looking forward to it and hopefully not putting too much pressure on it to perform. I do at least know one song that will be on next year’s soundtrack. This is the anthem, put your damn hands up:

Had Myself A Merry Little Christmas

2010-12-28T08:06:00.000-08:00

Words have yet to be invented to accurately describe how terrible Christmas was last year, and this year has kindly steamrolled that further away from my memory. I had SUCH a pleasant holiday.
I flew down to my brother's house in Texas last Tuesday, and we hung out in Houston to wait for my sister's flight to get in a few hours later. I was nervous to see her because over the last few years we have not gotten along at all. It's frustrating to look at someone who has the same face and voice as me, yet couldn't be more different.
She recently started working her first job, and I think it's starting to change her for the better. We did not fight once over the break, and actually enjoyed each other's company.
As a family, we went to the movies twice (it's $4 to see a movie in Texas - amazing!) and saw Black Swan and True Grit - both highly recommended. During True Grit, a man was sitting in front of me chewing and spitting tobacco. How very Wild West of him!
We also went wine tasting and glow-in-the-dark mini putting where I got THREE holes in one! Speaking of "That's What She Said", I taught my mom what that means over the break, too. When we were waiting for True Grit to start she noticed that my wallet was sticking out of my purse and asked, "Do you want me to help you put it in?" I started laughing, and asked my brother if it was OK if I said TWSS to my mom. I explained to her what it meant, and she tried to start using it, but she's still learning. Even during Christmas Eve dinner, she pointed at the roast beef and said to my sister, "Go ahead and lay some of that beef on here." My brother and I started laughing hysterically, but she's still a little slow with it. It'll be nice to chart her perverse progress.
We do all our celebrating on Christmas Eve, so Christmas Day we just hung out and I cooked our big dinner. I made a southern meal with a delicious turkey, mashed sweet potatoes, collared greens, cornbread stuffing and, for good luck in 2011, some black-eyed peas. It was delicious! Later, I made my own turkey stock for the first time, and it turned out pretty well, too.
On a serious note: there was obviously a hole in the family with my dad not being there, but he's chosen to pull away. We haven't really talked in a year, and I obviously want him to start a new life for himself, but it's out of our hands.
There's no easy way to transition out of that seriousness, except for three words: Indoor Gun Range.
Texas is a really interesting place. I can't think of another state that has as much pride and guns as they do. There is an indoor shooting range next to their Starbucks, in case you need to blow off some steam after getting overly-caffeinated. Also, the whole town shut down on Christmas. My brother and I drove around that morning just looking at how deserted it was. Everything was closed, except liquor stores and churches, of course.
I came back on Sunday evening, surprisingly. The East Coast was slammed by a blizzard, and my flight was the last one being let into Logan Airport. The landing was the scariest I've ever experienced, but the cab ride home was worse. I gave the driver a $10 tip for not killing me.
Thankfully, yesterday my office was closed, too. I got a bonus vacation day and hung out with some friends in my neighborhood.
Anyway, I hope everyone had a lovely, stress-free holiday. It's been an interesting year for me, to say the least, and 2011 has a LOT of pressure on it to perform. Let's just hope those 5 black-eyed peas I managed to eat do the trick.

And By Cupcakes, I mean ...

2010-12-24T10:30:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned below, my friends and I have a few different "catch phrases" we like to use on a regular basis to talk about feelings. My favorite is "And by cupcakes, I mean ..."
This summer I went to a Patriots Game with a friend of mine. We spent all afternoon tailgating and hanging out with her brother and his friends in the parking lot, waiting for her cousin to get there. Her brother's friends were terrible. (People are terrible.) One of them even made a bet for $50 with my friend that he could sleep with me within two months time. Classy. Spoiler alert: I did not sleep with him. I wasn't expecting much from her cousin when he finally arrived, but he was really pleasant, into beer, funny and a ginger. I love a ginger.
At the end of the night, we exchanged phone numbers and planned to hang out soon. We started texting a lot, sometimes for a few hours. I actually really don't like having text or phone relationships. I'd rather spend time in person, but the texting continued. He decided he was going to come to my birthday party and I said, "Great! There will be cupcakes there!" He took that and ran with it. He mentioned cupcakes every time we texted, through thinly-veiled innuendo.
One night, after drinking for a few hours (IMPORTANT DETAIL), my friends and I ended up out in Allston - where the dirty hipsters live in Boston. He also lives out there. So, my friends and I ate our second dinner of the night (I actually had to look at the menu online the next day to remember what I ate. Oof.) and I started texting him. Once again, he brought up the cupcakes. "Will there be cupcakes? :)"
At this point, I was so sick of the back and forth flirtiness, I responded with, "Yes, there will be. And by cupcakes, I mean boobs."
Surprisingly, I never heard from him again.

First Snow/Ugly Work Parking Lot

2010-12-20T11:28:00.001-08:00

I'm on Shag Highway Heading West!

2010-12-20T11:09:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I leave for Texas to spend the deargoddon'tbeterrible holidays with my family. It's the first Christmas that my dad will not be in attendance, so we've decreased our chances of family combustion by a little bit. And, to make sure the holidays start off even more out of the red, I'm going to my friend Sarah's house tonight to watch the best holiday movie: Love Actually. We're also going to eat curries to make us feel more British, too. Merry Christmas!

More Gifting Suggestions From Mom

2010-12-20T09:03:00.001-08:00

After my mom told me she wanted to "smell like Sarah" for Christmas, I didn't think she could top any gifting suggestions ... until I asked her what my brother might want.
She said, "Well ... your brother and I were talking the other night, and I asked him who he thinks is attractive in Hollywood. And, without missing a beat, your brother said, 'Keira Knightly'."
My brother confirmed this strange conversation when I talked to him on Saturday.
My mom goes on to say, "Lauren, you know things about the Internet."
To which I replied, "..." Sideways glance.
"Wouldn't it be great if you could find a signed picture of Keira Knightly for your brother for Christmas?" she asked.

So, now I only have a few days left to figure out how to use TheInternet.com, and hope my 30-year-old college professor, PhD brother still has room on his office wall for a signed picture from his girl Keira.

Four Loko is SO October 2010

2010-12-17T06:34:00.001-08:00

A few weeks ago, some girlfriends and I went to Newport, RI for all of their Christmas celebrations. It was so fucking quaint.
Santa arrived via boat, we saw a tree lighting, there was caroling and wassail.
We also took a tour of a old mansion set up to reflect what a Christmas Eve would look like in the 1820s. During the tour, we learned about an Old Timey (amazing) drink called Artillery Punch. Tonight, friends, I'm going to a party where it's being served. Brace yourselves for the ingredient list:
Black tea, whiskey, red wine, rum, brandy, herbal liqueur, orange juice and lemon juice.

Goodbye and I love you all.

Catch Phrase Hat Trick

2010-12-17T06:26:00.001-08:00

My friends and I use a battery of catch phrases to sum up how we're feeling sometimes. Here they are:
- Feelings about feelings (To be used when you're emotional or feeling feelings about feelings)
- Flames ... on the side of my face (Extreme rage)
- PEOPLE ARE TERRIBLE (self explanatory and so, so true)
- Don't show the crazy (priceless advice, mostly applied to dating)
- WHAT? OK!! (a la The Chappelle Show's Lil' John sketch. Still relevant after all these years)
- And by cupcakes, I mean ... (this one needs more explanation, but for another day)
- SO WHAT. WHO CARES? (besides Jason Sudeikis' dancing on What Up With That?, Fred Armisen's Joy Behar impression is the only funny thing on that show)
- That's what she said (also self explanatory/still relevant)

Yesterday was one of those days where I felt ALL of our catch phrases, except for "That's what she said". It's too bad it wasn't a perfect hat trick of phrases because yesterday was exhausting and confusing. Luckily, the tides turned in the evening and I was left very satisfied with a cherry on top. Wait a minute - yes! - THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!

Mommie Creepiest

2010-12-15T08:02:00.001-08:00

I just had a brief phone conversation with my mom about Christmas gifts. She wanted to know what I want, so I told her the only thing I really want is Jay-Z's new autobiography. She doesn't know who that is and she hates hip-hop music*, so I can only imagine what she wrote down to remind her of what I actually want. Does J.C. Chasez have an autobiography yet? I'll probably get that.
Then, I asked her what she wanted for Christmas, and without missing a beat she said, "I want to smell like Sarah." Creeeeeeepy. Sarah is one of my best friends and she used to work at Lush, and truthfully does always smell delicious. My mom first sniffed her when she visited earlier this fall and told Sarah and me privately many - MANY - times how intoxicating she smells. My mom sure is creepy.

* She took away my cassette of the Dangerous Minds soundtrack from me when I was younger. I cried. I didn't appreciate it at the time, but she was saving me from myself and from Coolio, too.

Business Time

2010-12-03T09:19:00.000-08:00

As I've mentioned before, I work for a small book publisher. One of my goals here is to expand the markets their books are sold into, and one of those markets is sex stores. There are a few titles in the catalogs that are a great fit, and more coming out this spring. In fact, my boss called me yesterday to let me know that he has a box of sex toys for me to look at when I get a chance.
Just the type of phone call I love to get in the workplace!
This is all very blush-worthy trying to have a straight-faced conversation with my boss about these products. And, I just had write an email to a customer that included both the phrases, "Happy belated Thanksgiving!" and "... fluffy handcuffs, velvet restraint, and blindfold".
It turns out it IS a dirty job, and I'm the one who has to do it. Heh, "do it".

Karaoke Truth #4,590

2010-10-24T19:39:00.000-07:00

I'm reading "Talking to Girls About Duran Duran" by Rob Sheffield right now. Even though this book isn't as good as his first (if you haven't read his "Love Is A Mix Tape", you should!), there is one line that sticks out:

"Laura bemoans the fact that karaoke is not more like real life. She asks, 'Why do I have all the confidence in karaoke that's completely missing from any other area of my existence?'"

SO TRUE.

Love and Meatballs

2010-10-22T07:14:00.000-07:00

I think it’s fair to say that most girls would find it flattering if two men were fighting over them. One man brings out a glove and slaps the other, challenging him to a duel! But, what if it’s two middle-aged women fighting over you? That happened to me last night at a dinner party and it was strange, to say the least.
A co-worker had several of us over to her house for dinner (homemade sauce with FOUR different types of meats (!!!)), and the hostess had mentioned in the past that she knew a young man she used to work with, who lives in Somerville, like me, that she would like to set me up with. Another co-worker brought this up at the dinner last night, “What about that guy you wanted to set Lauren up with?” (Hi, people I don’t know who read this. My name is Lauren.) My face instantly turns red because this is a dinner party, not a “Lauren’s single, let’s talk about that, party.”
The hostess says, “I’m on it. I’ve emailed his mother and am trying to set this up.” She had an old neighborhood friend over for dinner, too, who pipes up and says, “What about my Brian?” So, now, the two women start arguing over who I would be better suited to, while my co-workers are laughing at me and I sit there getting increasingly red in the face and have at least 2 of the 4 meats in my mouth. (sidenote: heh, TWSS)
Then, they leave the dinner table to pull up both boys on Facebook.com. Then, the friend takes out her cell phone and starts texting her son about me. It got REALLY weird when I had my head turned and the friend was trying to sneakily take my picture with her phone when I wasn’t looking. Or, perhaps it was stranger when I was using the bathroom and I could hear one my co-workers spelling out my last name so the woman could text it to her son. Yet again stranger when they started saying they’d like me for a daughter-in-law, and my co-worker was trying to think of ways to break up her son’s relationship so I could marry him.
It really was very flattering, and perhaps I’m missing an opportunity: I should really start scamming on 56-year-old women.

Dance Yrself Lean

2010-09-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

I think I'm in love with my dance instructor.
I started my first class last night and it was SO much fun. When I walked into the dance complex, there was an African Drum Beat class downstairs, and a tap class in the studio before my class meets. It felt so good - as a mediocre dancer - to be surrounded by all those talented dancers.
My class is taught by the sassiest of sassy men, who wore a bright yellow bandanna on his head and big diamond stud earrings. He came into the class and immediately started Irish Tap Dancing, and then flipped on the stereo, where much to my delight, Beyonce started playing.
Due to the name of my class, we did a lot butt stretches. At one point, we all had to bend over in front of the instructor, at which point I'm pretty sure he was assessing (get it?) where we are now, and how we will compare at the end of class.
We learned a few combinations, he taught us how to walk sexy towards the mirror to get a boy's attention, and then pivot around as if to say, in his words, "Nuh-uh, boi, you took too long. I'm outta here!" The best part about that, is there is this one older couple there who also had to do the sexy walk. The wife showed up to class wearing a bottom up Oxford, and jean cargo shorts, and the husband had his beer belly hanging low. It didn't matter, though, everyone had such a great time and just laughed through the whole class. My trunk's pretty sore today, but it was so worth it.

Miss, can you help me?

2010-09-15T06:27:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to Ikea with some friends, and I accidentally wore a bright yellow cardigan and a dark blue shirt underneath that. I didn't realize that I was dressed like an employee there until a few people looked like they were about to ask me a question, but then couldn't locate my name tag.
When I was checking out, I saw someone take a picture of me with their cell phone camera in the way that "I'm not taking a picture of you, but I'm so totally obviously taking a picture of you" kind of way.
Oh, well. I ate an entire plate of Swedish Meatballs with lingonberry jam, afterwards walked around the whole store with the top button of my pants undone and spent $100 on stuff I don't REALLY need, and it totally made me feel better.

Keeping It Real

2010-09-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

I may have the grown-ass job of a 28-year-old, where they send me around the U.S. making business decisions and throwing down plastic at client dinners, but I still have the expense report of a 6-year-old left to their own devices with their allowance:

Yes, I NEEDED that cheesewedge magnet and animal crackers.

All My Exes Live in Somerville

2010-09-02T10:33:00.001-07:00

So, I moved this week - along with hundreds of other Bostonians. When I first moved back here, I was living in a sublet with a friend of a friend (we're now friends, awww) and my September apartment search started my first day back in the area.
I looked at some HORRIBLE places: one place was so small, and the girl living there had really long fingernails - like Guiness Book of World Records long - another place was occupied by female hockey players, which is probably someone's fantasy, but not mine, and another was occupied by a male copy editor who was very nice, showed me to the nearest library branch, but scowled at me on the street the next day when I said "hi" while running by. Thank goodness for my current living situation.
Before I met with my current roommate, who I found via Craigslist, I did the requesite internet stalking (as did she: she found out I was a member of a knitting community, so I had to be nice, she reasoned). I found out on Facebook that we have a mutual friend. Her name sounded familiar, and she looked familiar, too. Turns out, she dated my friend. Turns out, so did I. His current girlfriend is swiftly becoming one of my closest friends. What a fun, sexy time for us!
With his permission, I met with her and we got along really well! It's not entirely surprising. As much as anyone would hate to admit it, ex-girlfriends will most likely get along. Of course there are psychotic exceptions, but my roommate and I have a LOT in common. We are both in love with PBS Specialty Programming, for example. I recently picked up Regency House Party from the library, and we started watching it the other night. We were really confused by which cast member was which, so she started making a visual aid for us to have on hand while we watch. Basically, a poster board with photograph and brief biography. It warmed my crafty, glue-stick-loving heart. Also, she sends me emails like this:
"And while [her current boyfriend] was playing around with the [recently purchased/used] TV stand last night trying to figure out how to fix the drawer, a VHS popped out from underneath, elaborately labeled "RAP" in gold marker. We have to watch this tape."
I'll report back with what's on the tape, but I'm really hoping for the previous owner's personal foray into the art form.

A Lady on the Street, but a Freak in the ... 24-Hour Shaw's

2010-08-31T10:05:00.000-07:00

Herewith are the steps to make the staff at a 24-hour Shaw's Supermarket hate their jobs, lives, next door neighbor's cats, etc:
Step #1: Pick up closest NYC girlfriends from South Station for one of the better weekends on record.
Step #2: Bring said friends back to your apartment for a cheese plate spread and several seasonal craft beers (Post Road Pumpkin, Sierra Nevada Tumbler, etc).
Step #3: Go out to Shay's in Harvard Square, get drunk, get hit on by a man with a pony tail and a fanny pack, stumble 1 mile towards home, witness friend pee in alley, have said friend recount tale of strange man watching her pee.
Step #4: Arrive at Shaw's.
Step #5: Split up, best to divide and conquer. Hear friends yelling all over the store, including one friend harass a man in a sea green shirt asking where the Ruffles are, he insists he does not work there, she couldn't care less and tells him she's simply looking for sympathy (AND Ruffles), watch same friend try to "level" with our check-out girl "Sarah" and let her know she "gets it" and also something about "the man", watch other two friends bicker about the color of the various onion dips and how they look "too grey".
Step #6: Arrive back at apartment and collectively consume: 2 large frozen pizzas, at least 1 pound (of the 3 purchased) of Peanut Butter M&Ms, entire can of onion dip, one half bag of Ruffles Potato Chips.

Please note: steps 3 and 5 are VITAL.

(Werewolf Bar Mitzvah) Spooky Scary

2010-08-27T10:24:00.000-07:00

I know it’s not even September yet, but I’m already getting really excited about Halloween. It’s my favorite holiday! I love autumn, anything pumpkin and most importantly: dressing up* and decorating. Also, I haven’t discussed my obsession with cheese spreaders on here yet (picture post to come), but my Halloween cheese spreaders are my FAVORITE.
Anyway, this weekend I’m moving into another new apartment and on the first floor of the place is the living room, dining room, screened-in porch (for drinking pumpkin beer), kitchen and office and upstairs are the two bedrooms. What better way to welcome myself with my new roommate than with this SPOOKY craft for our staircase:

Martha Stewart How-To

*I'm REALLY hoping there are opportunities to dress up this year. I've known what I've wanted to be since about February: Patty Hearst.

You Will Be Mine ...

2010-08-27T07:01:00.001-07:00

... Oh yes, you will be mine.

… and what a birthday it was

2010-08-26T08:24:00.001-07:00

When you reach into your purse the morning after your birthday party to pay the kind woman at Dunkin Donuts for hangover breakfast #1 and you pull this out:
You know it was a good night.

Last night was seriously wonderful. I had this terrible anxiety leading up to the party that no one would come: I’m just the (kinda) new girl, it’s raining like crazy, I’m making some people travel to my party, etc. And now, I want to grab that neuroses by the ears and tell it to go away because that was NOT the case at all. I’m SO lucky to have such amazing friends that “get” me (see above image).
We went to Redbones in Somerville and they were having a free appetizer night, so we were already off to a good start with free ribs and my favorite food group: hushpuppies. Friends were trickling in through the night, and we drank beers. Boy, did we drink beers. Troegs Brewery was being featured and I’m confident that our little party was responsible for tapping several of those kegs. All I drank was Troegs #32 and they quickly ran out of that. And then Troegs #29 was my next choice – out of that pretty fast too. And, then there was the sippy-cup-sized shots of Southern Comfort I consumed at the END of the night – not my best idea, but hey, it’s my goddamn birthday, ok?
A few other highlights: my friend Sarah and I in the bathroom together applying a temporary tattoo of man that looks like WB Mason to my (cough) bicep, I made delicious cupcakes that kept attracting strangers over because they were so cute (or because they thought they were a free appetizer. Whatever.), seeing a few different groups of friends talking to each other (I REALLY love seeing people come together/make new connections), and most of all: our awesome waitress Deb bringing over a plate of whipped cream with candles in it and all my friends singing to me. I’m seriously guilty of being a happy crier, and I’m just glad I could keep it together for a few minutes so as not to embarrass myself. I felt really loved, and I’m so grateful for my friends here, back in NY and scattered in all the other places I’ve ever lived. It’s been a rough week for me (won’t get into THAT), but last night made all that other noise go away.
What won’t go away right now is my headache, not even what my friend Jason calls a “fantasy shower” helped this morning. (I’ve slightly tweaked his model, but for me, it was a shower with really hot water where I sat in the tub and just let the water hit me in the face for at least 10 minutes. Wasteful but wonderful.) Anyway, I will probably post some pictures (not of the shower, dear god, I don’t want my 5 readers to go to zero readers), but I can’t make any promises because I’m not very good at keeping them when it comes to this internet diary thing.
Up next on I’m having a great life right now: my Ladies Who Munch are coming to visit me this weekend and I can’t WAIT.

Party Tips

2010-08-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my 28th birthday. I’m going to a local BBQ place for copious amounts of beer and smoked items. And, while I don’t have a Twitter, I do read some “celebrities’” feeds. One of the best is Andrew WK’s feed. He likes to post party tips, and I hope to have a chance to use one of his most recent ones tomorrow night: PARTY TIP: 1) Get down on your stomach. 2) Put a magazine on your head. 3) Quickly say the word "butterball" over and over.
It may happen.
Lately, I’ve had this streak of being REALLY bold – well, bold by my standards. I’m not sure if it’s heat stroke, or I just don’t CARE what anyone thinks of me because I’m awesome or I’m “coming into my own” (ew) – it doesn’t matter, but it’s all happening.

Also, happiest of happy birthdays TODAY to my beautiful friend Lillie.

I May or May Not Have ...

2010-08-18T11:28:00.000-07:00

... just signed up for a dance class called Jazz Funk to Tighten the Trunk.

Road Trip: Day 1-2

2010-07-23T11:04:00.000-07:00

For the next few entries, I’m going to talk about my road trip with my brother. I’ll try not to ramble too much, and just give you the highlights. The purpose of the trip was to move said brother from Philadelphia to College Station, TX. He recently completed a PhD program at UPENN and will be teaching at Texas A&M in the fall. I’m proud of him.

Day 1, States visited: MA, CT, NY, PA, MD, WV, VA
Day 1 was pretty exhausting - just look at the amount of territory we conquered. And, by “we” I mean my brother because I don’t know how to drive stick. I was basically just one hundred-and-SHUT-YO-MOUTH pounds of dead weight the entire trip. I did hold a map on my lap, though, and honored his request to “please ignore that map of Gay Philadelphia, ok?” The highlight of Day 1 was the excitement of potentially eating at Poor Richard’s in Scranton, PA – the ELECTRIC city – also home of TV’s The Office. I’d been to Scranton before (it’s where the warehouse at my old job was located), but this time was more fun because my relationship with my brother Brian is built on the foundation of movie and television quotes. We passed the sign for the Steamtown Mall, a sign for Carbondale (“LOOK what I found at the gas station in Carbondale!”), and a sign for Lake Wallenpaupack, where they had their booze cruise, etc. Sadly, the GPS didn’t have Poor Richard’s listed as a “point of interest” and even after looking up the address online that bastard couldn’t get us there. The GPS, not my brother. So, we settled on the Glider Diner – Kevin really likes their pie. Apparently Obama ate there, too, but I was happier about the Kevin part. We definitely didn’t blend in well with the local Scrantonians, and were the biggest jerks there UNTIL some cast rejects from the Jersey Shore showed up and we were able to give our waitress the “get a load of a those guys” eye roll.
After a photo op or two, my brother and I were on the road again and finally stopped for the night in Winchester, VA – home of George Washington’s office, and more importantly – home of 99 cent beers and 2 dollar potato skins at the Cork Street Tavern!
Day 2, States visited: VA, NC
We really pushed through to VA on Day 1, so we could start off Day 2 on the Blue Ridge Parkway. If you ever get the chance to travel along that, please take it. It’s almost 500 miles of scenic road through the Appalachians that starts in Shenandoah National Park and ends in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. There’s AMAZING views everywhere you look, and the sides of the road are sprinkled with tons of wild flowers. My brother and I both agreed that all the lush vegetation really did look like Endor from Star Wars. We took lots of pictures and stopped at a “comfort station” or two. I asked one of the ladies - Louise from Missouri - if she lived nearby year round and after the look of “Oh my god, is this girl going to murder me” washed away from her ashen face, she told me that a lot of the employees along the parkway are actually volunteers who come during the summer and dorm together. Interesting! We ended the day in Boone, NC at an Applebee’s. From that day forward, all we could talk about was Applebee’s delightful new offering: Wonton Tacos . So, if you have the chance to either eat those or go on the Blue Ridge Parkway – go with the tacos. They’re amazing. Don’t listen to this girl on a message board I found about the tacos because my answer to the original question is a resounding “HELL YEAH. I DO.”

Coming up, Day 3: Hiking in jeggings: rugged or ridiculous?

An Apology

2010-07-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

Talking to a friend on the phone last night, she reminded me that now that she’s following my blog (ugh, that word), I need to write more. She’s right. I’m sorry, Internet. I’ve been neglectful. Here’s a list of what I’ve been up to, and I will try to expand on each item soon:
- I moved. Of course you know this because it’s pretty much all I’ve talked about on here.
- I started a new job. I like it. It’s incredibly different, but a good different. I’m the only employee without kids, and everyone wants to leave the office at 5 to get home to said carrier monkeys so it’s win-win.
- I went cross country with my brother. Actually, I guess it’s technically half-country as we drove from Massachusetts to Texas. I will detail this out – it was a great trip.
- I’m lazy and easily distracted. I was going to start writing last night, but checked out a documentary from the library on the Jonestown massacre (just keeping it light!) so I watched that instead.
- I’m out doing stuff. As part of my plan to insert myself (heh) into my existing Boston friends’ lives, I’ve been trying to make lots of plans and be social: I saw Aziz Ansari (thanks again, Chris!), I’m going to a Red Sox game next week, I went to see the Grease Sing-A-Long (Hi, Sarah!), went to the beach (directly below Logan airport’s flight path. Still not sure if I’m “tan” or just covered in jet fuel – but it’s awesome!), etc.
- I've been using the Internet for other things, ok? Do you guys KNOW how Sam Cooke died? It's crazy, read his Wikipedia page!
- I bought some beef jerky today, and that took up, like, 5 minutes. Don’t you feel like a creep when you buy that stuff? Right. I’m probably the only non-truck driver who buys that stuff, but still. Trust me.
So, those are my reasons for being absent, but I plan to write this weekend as I don’t really have any plans (This is new for me. I’m an insane planner, and the idea of a spontaneous weekend is stressing me out). Anyway, onward …

Lunch Break? Lunch Break.

2010-06-29T09:51:00.001-07:00

I'm getting settled in my new job, and while I miss New York, I don't miss fighting tourists in Rock Center for a spot to eat. I may have to battle sea gulls, but this should do just fine this summer.

Heart to Heart

2010-06-18T07:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to my boss. I love him for a lot of reasons, but mostly because he never holds back how he feels and was able to look me in the eye and tell me exactly how he felt about me. He's honestly one of the most genuine people I've ever met.
When we were hugging goodbye, I went in the for the traditional hug: my left arm under his right arm and my right arm over his left arm. He stopped me halfway and moved my arms the opposite way (my right arm under his left arm, etc.) and said, "No, do it this way - our hearts are closer this way."

SO earnest and sweet. Niagra Falls, Frankie Angel.

New Site

2010-06-15T12:28:00.000-07:00

My friend Jess and I like to come up with potential band names all the time. Unfortunately, we can never remember them (drunk. always drunk. high. always high.). So, now I've gone and secured a new site for us to record what we come up with. While I should be wrapping things up at work, this is what I've chosen to do. Hopefully it's as amusing to YOU as it is to me. We'll accept submissions, of course. You can email me at videotapestoreturn(at)gmail.com.
http://potentialbandnames.blogspot.com/

Is This An Audience or An Oil Painting?

2010-06-14T11:31:00.000-07:00

Sometime in the absolutely drunken haze of Saturday, I agreed to something completely stupid. Surprising, right? Four of my friends were sitting on the edge of a planter in the backyard of Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, and I was standing in front of them and made the comment that I felt like a (bad) stand-up comedian. So, I start telling the four jokes I know - all of which I didn't write - but have been in my rotation since fourth grade.
Well, the details are fuzzy (again: surprising, right?), but within minutes a friend had his fancy phone out looking for open mic nights in the area in the next two weeks. I agreed to do stand-up because "it has to be SO easy." Crap.
So, instead of having a relaxing few weeks left in New York, I have to write a stand-up routine because a promise is a promise. There will be NO VIDEO of this, but I'm imagining it will go something like this:

The Worst Part About Moving ...

2010-06-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

... besides packing and saying good-bye to friends, is thinking you're going to get murdered. Putting your room up on Craiglist to try to find a subletter is a really nerve-wracking thing to do, and when you haven't been sleeping at all for the last week or so, it makes you even more paranoid of who is going to show up.
Yesterday, a girl who contacted me to take my room emailed to see it. I gave her my phone number if she had any other questions, and then she started texting me. We set up a time - between 8:30-9 am today - for her to come by and see the place.
The whole "not sleeping" thing is getting REALLY annoying. I haven't had a good night's sleep since Wednesday, June 2nd. Some of it has been my fault (see: thinking it's a good idea to sleep outside in the rain on a Saturday night), but it's mostly that my brain refuses to shut off. I'm nervous if I made the right decision, how am I going to pack up everything, will my NY friends still be my friends when I move away, will my Boston friends shun me when I move back, is anyone going to show up to my going away drinks - I am a ball of crazy. So, today, like every other day, I'm wide awake at 4:30 am.
Sitting on my couch this morning, waiting for this girl to show up, I'm getting more and more paranoid: why haven't I talked to this girl on the phone before? Where is she? She's 45 minutes late. The best possible answer I came up with is that "she" is actually a "he" who is a Craigslist predator. He's running late because he's busy murdering someone else. I came up with a plan to not buzz "her" into the building, but to go to the front door and get a good look before letting her in. I decided to call to see if she was running late, but her voicemail didn't have her voice on it, it was just the automated message. DEFINITELY a murderer.
She never showed up, so I'm guessing she's being detained by police right now. I also am definitely going crazy and desperately need some sleep. Help.

The Best Part of Moving Away ...

2010-06-10T08:50:00.000-07:00

... is friends willing to go out on a Monday for drinks. Today, my friend Stevie emailed me to ask if she was imagining that I had taken pictures on Monday night when we went to my favorite local bar Sweet Afton. I took my camera out of my bag and flipped through. The last pictures I had were of my current room for a Craigslist ad, and then pictures of my friend Lillie's girlfriend mock-humping a guy who had passed out drunk at a bus stop (what?).

Then. Then, I checked my cell phone camera and WOW. Why didn't I remember this until now? Well, something in the neighborhood of six beers and a "Pickleback" shot (whiskey followed by pickle juice) is a pretty good place to start. Here it is, the photo series from Monday night, presented without commentary.

Back to Boston

2010-06-10T07:06:00.001-07:00

Well, it's all happening. Here is a run-down of recent events that have me moving back to my favorite city, Boston:
- Four weeks ago I met with a company who I had interviewed on the phone with MONTHS prior, and given up on. It's a small book publisher that does an array of projects, the bulk of which being new age-type books. I thought they disappeared into a vortex or were trapped in a sweat lodge, hence the months-long silence. I mean, who wouldn't want to hire ME!? So, they were in New York for a convention, and I reached out to set up a time to meet for breakfast. On the subway ride to their hotel, I start choking up at the realization that I may be leaving New York. Then, I realized I was listening to Sigur Ros on my iPod, so I quickly changed the music to the Sleigh Bells record and fixed that pretty quickly. Best not to feel emotions.
- Last Friday, I was up near their offices for a meeting with another company I work with in the area. After giving a presentation, that company actually offered me a job on the spot. They said they've always enjoyed my presence and how professional I am (ahem, ahem). I told them I'd think about it, because I was actually on my way for my FOURTH interview (again, just give me the job!!) at this other place. A few hours later, I was considering two job offers to have me relocate to New England. I took this as a major sign (the new age books are already working!) and decided to relocate with the publisher. It's an amazing opportunity: better title, more challenges, etc.
- Last Saturday, I drove into Somerville (just outside Boston) to stay with my friend Chris and to see Conan O'Brien's live show with another friend. And, I had an amazing weekend! Before the show, a group of us went to the Cambridge Brewing Company for beers, and my friends Carleton and his girlfriend Sarah came out, too. I've had a girl crush on Sarah since I met her last year sometime, and it was so nice to see her and hear that she was glad to see me relocate. Honestly, that's been a sticking point with relocating. In New York, I have a ton of amazing girlfriends, and with a few (lovely) exceptions in Boston, the majority of my friends are guys (who I love). Sarah was so sweet and said she'd introduce me to her friends, and it was just such a tremendous comfort.
Then, Conan - which was so much fun. While the show wasn't AMAZING, my favorite part of the whole experience was watching how much fun he was having. He's the only celebrity I've seen on the street that actually made me feel star struck. I mean, Steve Buscemi shook my hand before - so you know, a) I'm cool and b) it didn't make me start laughing uncontrollably or start shaking like Conan did. I was a little disappointed that he didn't have any cool guests stars (the Dropkick Murphys played with him, and these goobers sitting in front of my friend and me high-fived and knew all the lyrics, oof). After the show, we met up with my friends again who had seen him the night before and were really great about not giving out any spoilers, so I thought it'd be a good idea to tell them fake guest stars that were there, just to make them jealous. So, who's cooler than Dan Akroyd and Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers? The answer: no one. They believed us, but the charade didn't last long.
Anyway, that night turned into one of those where you think it's a GREAT idea to sleep outside in the rain, the sun starts to come up and you hear birds, and you have the worst headache of your entire life, but it was all worth it and makes you more excited to move back. Between my friends' hilarity and seeing Conan, my cheeks hurt from laughing so much when I was driving back to New York on Sunday night.
- Cut to Monday, when I have to start telling my NY friends. I had written a text to my best ladies on Saturday asking to get lunch or drinks after work on Monday, and they smelled a rat right away. I really didn't want to tell them over text message, but it was probably for the best. The first friend I told in person was my friend Hilary. We work together, and also traveled to Costa Rica together. I walked into her office first thing and just started crying. She starts crying because she knows that I'm leaving and it's all downhill from there. I tell my boss: crying. I get a nice email from my ex-boyfriend: sobbing. I left work on Monday completely exhausted from crying so much. The whole "best not to show emotion" thing is completely out the window.

The thing is, it's going to be OK. It's not going to be easy to leave in 2 weeks or 2 years, so I'm going to try to make the best of my remaining time here and look forward to the good times ahead. Boston is not that far away from New York, so I hope to get tons of visitors and definitely be back in New York as much as possible. And, for the next few weeks, it's probably best if I delete Sigur Ros off my iPod.

Cancel TV to Pay Pee-Wee

2010-05-20T14:11:00.000-07:00

I just bought 4 tickets to see Pee-Wee Herman LIVE on Broadway. The cheap seats totaled $300, but (so what!) who cares, it's PEE-WEE. Harnessing the powers of The Secret, I switched my desktop picture to this yesterday afternoon: Spooky, right? The coincidence, not the photo - the photo's awesome.

Related: I canceled cable today so I could "save money".

Cuspid Cupid

2010-05-19T11:36:00.000-07:00

Instead of telling you another boring story about me, I've decided to tell you a story about someone else. This is a story a friend I've known for 27 years told me awhile ago, and I just remembered it on the way to work today. Let's call my friend "Mom", you know, just for the sake of identification.
"Mom" comes from and has raised a family that rarely (unless drunk) talks about bedroom activity in public, so this was a particularly shocking story to hear. She has always maintained that she'd only been with the man she married, let's call him "Dad". Well, it turns out that while that was true, it wasn't for lack of trying with someone else.
Her friends and her all grew up in a small town in Connecticut, with a very limited dating pool. Her husband is actually her brother's old best friend. "Mom" and her friends were all out at the local bar, and a man starting hitting on her. She was at the point where she thought she should just do "it" and get it over with.
Her friends were encouraging her to go for it, too. Not because they thought it was time, but because both of them had already slept with him and "he was the best [they'd] ever had." So, it was set. If you're going to go through with it, it may as well be with the best her small town had to offer. "Mom" and "The Best" went back to his apartment to do the deed.
Now, in the time in between Mom's foray and her friends' experience, "The Best" had been in a bad car accident, but luckily wasn't too injured. The only casualty was his teeth; he'd slammed into the steering wheel and all the ones in the front were knocked out. But, he had dentures, so you couldn't even tell.
Things were heating up, and "The Best" says, "I'll be right back" and goes to the bathroom. He returns, but without his teeth in, ready to go. Poor "Mom" is so horrified that she makes up some lame excuse, and runs out of the apartment. I'm sure it was really alarming to see a toothless man coming to deflower you, but would you forgo "The Best" if he had no teeth?

How To Get Dumped BEFORE a First Date

2010-05-11T09:47:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I went to a happy hour with a friend from work. Because this place offered insane deals (mussels for $3, anyone?), it was really packed and we had to mill around the periphery of tables and stalk anyone who was leaving. While standing around, half listening to each other while we eyed tables, a good looking guy came over and started talking to us. He seemed really nice (a kindergarten teacher and basketball coach) and eventually he leaned over to me and said, "You have an incredible smile." Aw, yeah. It's "on", as they say.
He was there with his aunt and mother; we exchanged numbers on the sly so he wouldn't get grief from his mom. Plus, he was already getting enough grief from me because he was drinking a watermelon martini.
The next morning, I woke up to a text from him. "Someone is thinking about you." Depending on how deep you make your voice when you read that aloud, it's either really sweet or the most frightening thing ever. I chose the former, and felt crushy.
Now, being Type A and having (mostly) all Type A friends, I make plans way in advance. For example, I have plans through November 2010 already. So, in texting, he wanted to get together as soon as possible, but I wasn't available until yesterday. We met April 15th.
In between then and now, he'd send text messages that'd say, "Think about me on your trip to Costa Rica" or "I will wait for you because I think you're worth it". With each additional text, the voice in my head would read them with a deeper and deeper voice, making them scarier. I'm really not used to that sort of attention. I used to have to beg my most recent ex-boyfriend to tell me I'm pretty or funny (editor's note: feel sorry for me!!). But, with my friends' encouragement and insistence, I decided that I'd just have fun and go out with him.
We texted again last Wednesday to set yesterday up - all over text. Sunday passes, no location is set up, no time. Monday morning, into afternoon, into evening: nothing. Then, late last night I get a text from him that says, "This is my second text. I thought we had similar feelings for each other. I guess not?" I NEVER got the first text, and not in the "Oops! I didn't see that" lying kind of way, like, legitimately didn't. Also, "similar feelings"? We have never even gone out!
I figured I'd text him today, tell him I didn't get the first text, but before I could do that I got this final text this morning, "Wow. Nothing? Nice. Well, take care!"
I think it's safe to say I dodged a crazy bullet, and will try my best to find a guy who CALLS to set up plans, and doesn't rely on text. Oh, and doesn't drink watermelon martinis.

Isla Nublar

2010-05-03T09:22:00.000-07:00

Look at that baby hand! Have you ever seen something so disturbing? I look like that creepy sister from the Lawrence Welk show parody on SNL.

That picture is from my recent trip to Costa Rica, and had it been time-stamped, you would know that I was drinking a beer at 11 am. During the trip, that would be considered a "late start" for boozing. Our first day there, we were drunk by 10 am, and swimming up to a bar by 11 am for more tropical drinks. The trip was amazing and exactly what I needed.

I've never considered myself the beach vacation type, but this trip has changed my mind. The people there was incredibly friendly, the beer was delicious (and cheap!), I had SO many opportunities to talk about Jurassic Park and we saw a ton of wildlife. This little guy was eating a lizard up in the trees, and decided to throw the intestines of said lizard down at the tourists below. Cheeky!These guys were running all over our resort. They were running even faster when one of my friends decided to start chasing them.
There was some surprising wildlife there, too, like the deer we saw, or these rabid, daytime raccoons above. I stupidly thought animals like deer or raccoon are exclusive to North America, or a similar climate. We also saw a raccoon at our resort, too - through the peephole in our hotel room's door. We heard a loud crash outside our door, and one these menacing-looking bandits was going through someone's room service tray across the hall from us. We called the front desk to alert them of the creature, and no one came up to investigate for HOURS. While we were being held captive, we just decided to play "Colones" - a came of quarters using the local currency.

I definitely have a travel bug now, and can't wait to play games called "Euros", "Pounds" and "Yen" hopefully in the near future.

Baby, I Stole Your Money ... Don't You Worry

2010-04-21T16:19:00.000-07:00

I'm going to Costa Rica in three days (!!!), and was getting ready to call my bank to let them know there will be some international transactions on my card. I mean, there is a bar called "The Hook Up" near our hotel, how could I not?

When I went to pick up my phone, I already had a voicemail from my bank saying they're investigating a fraud charge.

I didn't panic because one of my traveling companions had a similar call from her bank yesterday. She bought us tickets to a rainforest tour in Costa Rica, and the charges sent a red flag back to her bank. I figured the hotel or rental car - both on my card - were charged.

When I got home from work, I called my bank and they told me that a hospital on the South Shore of Massachusetts was trying to transfer $3,100 out of my checking account. Thankfully, my bank denied the out-of-sorts transaction.

My customer service rep and I went through what I needed to do, how this could happen, who did this, what's wrong with humanity (shit got philosophical), the state of the economy and even his personal history with this sort of crime. Despite the circumstances, we had a very pleasant conversation for about 20 minutes, so I'm going to go ahead and throw that "dating" tag up on this post.

Everything is going to be OK, but, humanity? Why do you have to keep on testing us?

Just Another Case of Mistaken (Anal) Identity

2010-04-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

I had dinner at a friend's house this week and when we sat down to eat, she got all excited and said, "Oh! I thought of you last week." "Oh yeah?" Maybe she saw a dress I might like, or jar of peanut butter at the grocery store that reminded her of me.
"Yeah. I finally tried anal and it's exactly like you said. I totally thought I was going to poop!"
Hold on. Hold it RIGHT there. You're safe, it's ok. If you have done that before and you're reading this, don't worry, this is a judgment free (and no spin) zone. But for the love of God, that was NOT me who told her anything about it. I have absolutely no interest in doing that, nor discussing it with friends!
A few friends get frustrated with me that I don't go into too many details about the boudoir, so the details she was giving me were making me severely uncomfortable. She kept elaborating before I could stop her and say, "NOT ME! NOT ME! NOT ME!"
What's worse is that I think her husband used my supposed willingness to do that act in order to convince her to do it. Apparently he said, "Everyone does it - even [name redacted]!" I'm also curious if when she says, "I thought of you" - at what point did she think of me? Actually, I may not want to know the answer to that.

Southern Hospitality

2010-04-12T08:13:00.000-07:00

My boss and I went on a business trip to Nashville, TN and Greenville, SC together last week. We were both dreading it because we were going to be working with some sales reps who sell into Christian retailers. Our dreads came from two different places: I know nothing about religion and my boss is gay. Just to set up who we're dealing with, there is a book we sold that features animals and they said their stores didn't like it because it looked like the animals were having sex, but at least they appeared to be male and female and it wasn't interspecies! Oof.

Also, another book we sent to stores featured a picture of Jesus on the toilet with the words "Holy Crap!" above him. (editors note: oops!) I didn't know how to NOT laugh, or not say "crap" so in my scrambling I promised to never again show them a book that has the Lord "making a two". They all laughed at - not with - me. Oh, and our presentation was recorded, so they'll have that for eternity (which they believe in, incidentally).

Anyway, to take the edge off, my boss and I ate approximately 80 pounds of food over two days, and stayed (in separate rooms!) at a bed & breakfast in Greenville that was - well - below are some pictures. During breakfast (pudding-stuffed french toast with bananas), my boss and I were joking that we looked like newlyweds with the others around us saying, "That poor girl is in for a BIG surprise when she realizes her husband is gay!" and "Why are her pants so baggy and his so tight??"My room was "Out of Africa" themed, my boss got Chantilly French (all pink!).Imagine waking up to this in the middle of the night. Her eyes were blacked out like that Bone Thugs 'N Harmony video. There were all these adorable little gnomes around the outside of the house. David the Gnome was one of my favorite shows growing up, so I had to pay my respects.The woman who runs the B&B saw us taking goofy pictures all around the property (86 pictures, to be exact!), and made us pose for this one. We'll call it, "Divorce. Reason cited: fraud". What a cute, confused married couple. That woman was so nutty. When we got there the night before, she told us it was her first night away from her newborn kid, and she had a glass of wine. She said it was hitting her a lot harder than she thought it would, and she kept giggling all crazily when she was checking us in. Ok, now for the food: Ice cream in Nashville.PUDDING-STUFFED French toast at the B&B. Don't worry, I asked them to print out the recipe if anyone wants it.And, Catwater, this is for you. And, this ... this "All-Star Special" was for me!I've never felt like more of an all-star in my life.

How to Make Me Swoon

2010-04-12T08:09:00.000-07:00

"It’s really rare when a girl as pretty as you is also as funny."

Bacon vs. Tofu: A Happening

2010-03-30T09:43:00.000-07:00

"What gives? First, you say you're going to be a vegan, and then you start failing immediately. And now? NOW, I hear you're going to a BACON and beer tasting tonight?"
"Did somebody say 'BACON'?""Ugh, not THIS guy." "Shut up, tofu. She ate you for lunch today, alright? Tonight, tonight is our special date night feast. And you know what else, tofu?""What?""Tofu SUCKS! UHH!"

"And, scene."

Wins and Fails at Work

2010-03-25T12:51:00.001-07:00

Fail: I can't access lala.com anymore. No more musak, and I'm left to the contraints and lottery of Pandora.com now.

Win: I just booked a business trip in Greenville, SC in a few weeks and have decided to stay in a bed-and-breakfast that has an "Out of Africa" theme. Awesome. Maybe I should have splurged and booked the romantic package for two, for one?

Another win is the company's (wise) decision to finally move me into a window office, so I don't lose my mind in my old "closet converted into an office" office. Here's my new view:

A Kind Diet, or That Time I Was Vegan For A Few Hours

2010-03-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

I ended up not being able to run the half marathon. I was the sickest I'd been in quite some time and was up the weekend before coughing through the night. My doctor put me on some super meds, but they didn't work fast enough. I did a "test run" last Friday and couldn't even make it a mile without feeling like I was dying. For last year's me, that would have been called a "workout", but just a few weeks ago I checked sunrise times so I could run 10 miles before work. I am strong. I am invincible. I am runner person. I am, also, devastated.
So, after crying in front of my friend Schmate's boyfriend and then still going forward with our "carbo load" plans, I ate a LOT of cheesy baked ziti and split 12 mini Crumbs cupcakes among my friends (number of friends withheld so you don't judge how many cupcakes we each ate). By the time I got home, my stomach HATED me. Schmate's pasta is SO delicious, and the cupcakes were good, too, so I couldn't say "no". But, I realized that maybe I shouldn't be jamming so much dairy down my gullet. I looked 9 months pregnant, full of air and cheese.
So, instead of staying in town with the other half marathoners, I went up to my aunt and uncle's house in Massachusetts to hide/sulk and visit with my grammie. (I also had a face-to-face job interview at the crafting publisher on Monday and should know more soon - fingers crossed!) While I was up there, I decided to try being a vegan to detox for a few weeks.
A few things needed to happen first: I had to stop eating so much delicious cheese, and I should also consider not saying, "It smells like vegans" if I walked into a stinky room. I shopped at Trader Joe's and bought all the necessary items like wasabi peas, dried fruit, dairy free enchiladas (gross, right?).
When I got back to New York I made some delicious pasta with butternut squash and asparagus, and on top of that a fake chicken patty. Good, right? When I finished eating, I read the box the chicken, or chik'n, came in and it contains dairy. FAILED. Failure already.
I had butter poporn last night. I just got back from eating sushi for lunch. A friend emailed me yesterday and wants to get together for cheese plates and trivia at a local bar tomorrow. I can't miss that. Then, my friend let me know about a Bacon & Beer pairing event next week that also can't be missed.
I think I'll realign my goals and just consume in moderation. I'm not a big meat eater, but I love me some cheese. So, I guess I'll be a carnivore with vegan tendencies now - no more beef milkshakes for me!

Elephants on Parade

2010-03-23T07:49:00.001-07:00

Every year, the circus comes to town and the elephants are marched through the Midtown Tunnel on their way to Madison Square Garden. Last night, my roommate and I went into the city from Queens and patiently waited for the beasts to walk by around 12:30 am.

As soon as they showed up, a wave of people came running down the sidewalk who had been following them all along. We picked up the chase, too.

Living in New York you see a lot of strange things day to day, but this was one of the strangest and most endearing juxtapositions I've seen. I understand the circus is controversial, but seeing these elephants walking trunk to tail through a busy business district in the middle of a rainy night was pretty spectacular.

Relationship Question

2010-03-18T06:51:00.000-07:00

Is it too early to tell a man you love him after just meeting, but being able to carry on a conversation strictly about peanut butter for about 5 minutes?

Fever Dreams

2010-03-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

Still sick. And, now, I may not be able to run in the half marathon I've been training for for the last 3 months. I saw a new doctor yesterday, despite my prejudice about medicinal practices in Queens. I assumed any doctor in Queens was kind of going to be like Dr. Nick from the Simpsons. I was only half right. The most suspect part about the office was a framed (I'm assuming, not original) Van Gogh painting that was labeled as a Monet.

What drove me to the doctor was a "Type A" fever dream I had this weekend. For the last few nights, I've been waking up in the middle of night covered in sweat (ew). This weekend, I woke up next to a tidy pile of pillows according to size, and then on top of that my sweatshirt and the shirt I was wearing folded like I'd been working at the Gap for years (sorry for the n00d imagery).

This isn't the first time for weird, sick dream behavior: I've fallen out of bed and woken up on the floor and I've jumped out of bed and screamed at my ex-boyfriend like he was an intruder - fun for everyone!

The doctor, a fellow runner person, prescribed me some pretty heavy medications to try and have me in fighting shape for Sunday. The least I hope for is to not wake up with my closet organized by color, or me alphabetizing the contents of my apartment building's trash in another sweaty fit.

Dear Key Food Supermarket

2010-03-13T11:53:00.000-08:00

Why have you decided to be so high brow? Why aren't you carrying US Weekly anymore? I'm feeling really sick (I shared Pop Rocks with my also sick boss, thinking our colds wouldn't matter. Lick. Share. Lick. Share. We have a special relationship.), and that's all I wanted on this rainy Saturday.

You're the same supermarket that tried to kill me last week by selling me expired frozen yogurt and already-opened Matzo Ball Soup Mix. But, you're too good to let me learn more about Jessica Simpson's weight gain, and Adam Lambert's new make up line for men?

Shame on you.

Everything's Boobier (on the way to) Texas

2010-03-12T12:52:00.000-08:00

My brother is moving to Texas to teach history at Texas A&M. I'm SO proud of him, but also really sad that he's DITCHING me on the East Coast. I'm going to accompany him on the drive to Texas, and he said we could stop at Dollywood on the way. I can never tell if he's kidding or serious, but, oh please, oh please be serious. I love Dolly Parton. 9 to 5 is one of my favorite movies. She's just so sunny and positive, and I'm even reading her out-of-print autobiography, Dolly Parton: My Life and Other Unfinished Business, right now. My friend, also a huge Dolly fan, loaned it to me. Also, if you've never listened to the albums Trio or Trio II from Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, you're crazy.

Crafting and Conan

2010-03-11T11:41:00.000-08:00

Ever since interviewing for that job north of Boston last week, I've been consumed by the idea of moving back there. I said I'd take whatever job I could get, whether it's in New York or Boston, but I'm pulling for New England at this point.

In fact, I had another job interview yesterday with a different New England-based book publisher. And, guys, for the job they want me to be able to get excited about arts and crafts books - the easiest thing for me to get excited about besides bagels. And babies' shoes (they're so CUTE!). I mean, look, there aren't too many opportunities in life where talking about your latest craft project - cross-stitched moustaches - could easily transition into the conversation:

Or how about that time I skipped work to go to a taping of the Martha Stewart show and then made a screen print for a tote bag?

I'm still in the very early stages of interviewing with both companies and need to hear back for round two, but they were both very kind in regards my experience and delightful phone manner. I'm feeling confident, which is a rarity, and in my confidence I just bought two tickets to see Conan O'Brien at the Wang (heh) Theatre in Boston in June. Now, I don't have anyone to go with yet, I don't have a job in Boston or an apartment, but I'm trying to use the power of suggestion and ginger hair to maybe help out a little bit. Either way, the show's on a Saturday and I can always just go up for the weekend if things don't pan out with the jobs. See? I'm not so crazy after all. And, if any of my Boston friends read this (do you?) and have nothing to do on June 5th, let me know and I'll gladly be your date.

Affection, Balls, Beantown

2010-03-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

Today I almost jumped over the counter at CVS and gave the clerk a hug. I'm sick, and I feel like that would have made me feel much better. It's not the first time this particular clerk has made me feel this way. She calls everyone sweetheart and honey. She even told me to feel better and didn't judge me for buying disgusting knee highs. Ugh, I love her so much.
I think I've been craving that sort of motherly affection a lot more lately.
My mom sent me this adorable card in the mail "just because" that said so many nice things like she thinks of me often and that she wishes she could be there in person to cheer me on during the half-marathon (help - three weeks away!). It made me cry it was so sweet. (Although, to be fair, I might have been crying because my friends and I tried to go to an ALL meatball restaurant in the Lower East Side that night, and there was an hour and half long wait so we didn't go. We were really looking forward to spending an entire meal trying to say "balls" as much as possible.)

In other news: I'm interviewing for a job today that would place me back up in New England again. Career wise, I think it would be a really great move, and I've always wanted to move back to Boston; I just didn't think there would be potential for that so soon. On a personal level, it'd place me closer to my East Coast family (about a 1/2 mile away from them, actually) and I do have a few friends from college days still in the area that I'd love to be closer to. On top of all that, Boston's awesome. I love that city so much, and not in a sad "let's recreate the good, old days" kind of way - it's just an amazing city. On the other hand, only recently have I really started to appreciate that I live in the "greatest city in the world" and currently have some of the best friends I've ever had in my life.
It's a lot to think about, and (despite not appearing that way) I'm trying not to get too ahead of myself here.

Just Bought Something New

2010-02-23T11:22:00.000-08:00

FYI- I just bought expensive running shoes at City Sports because the clerk was incredibly good looking and touched my arch (God, I wish that was a euphemism).

Just Learned Something New

2010-02-19T13:21:00.000-08:00

So, I just found out the most inappropriate time/place to begin a conversation with your boss about responsibilities/salary/title change: holding 2 blueberry Pop Tarts in the hallway outside of the men's room. Why? Because guys have no problem letting out really loud farts, whereas the ladies wait for a toilet flush or at least cough a little.
I was in the middle of talking, when *fart!* ... I couldn't stop laughing, and all I could think to do was offer my boss one of the Pop Tarts. He declined.

... And To Laugh Again

2010-02-12T13:08:00.001-08:00

Last weekend, I saw this sign taped to this guy's car (with Massachusetts plates) that was blocking the driveway of my old building (c'mon - it has to be a guy who drives a Dodge Charger and parks ridiculously, right?): If you can't read it, it says: Hey Mass-Hole, You're blocking our driveway by this much. Do it again and the police will be called! Use some consideration next time. Red Sox Suck!
First of all, I'm not sure if "Masshole" needs to be hyphenated, and second of all I know exactly who wrote this sign - it HAS to be the landlord's daughter. She's such a curmudgeon with Transitions lenses and the ability to hold a grudge like no other. (For example, one time I had (loud) friends over and she knocked on my door at 10 pm on a Saturday, and said we'll wake the neighbors. Translation: I'm trying to watch my stories, and you're not allowed to have fun. After that she didn't say "hello" to me for like a month.)
Anyway, I was carrying many bags of groceries home when I saw this, but was laughing so much I had to put them down and take a picture. It felt really good to laugh, and I haven't seen this car on the street since.

We Interrupt Our Regularly Silly Program

2010-02-06T11:24:00.001-08:00

I usually just write about funny things that happen to me (see: falling down in front of coworkers at LaGuardia, almost getting into a fist fight in Queens), but there is something decidedly unfunny going on in my life right now.

My father is an alcoholic. He always has been, and continues to make drinking his mission. Right now, he’s in the hospital after my mother had to call 911 because he was breathing shallowly. Once there, they said his blood alcohol level was 6.1 - my mom said anesthesia is at around a 4.

As he’s always been an alcoholic, I’ve seen the levels of severity over the years. When I was 12, I found a bottle on the couch downstairs at our house in Connecticut and confronted him. He cornered me and begged me not to tell my mom what I found. When I was 8, I caught him drinking in the garage from a water bottle. He acted weird and surprised when I saw him doing this, so when he left, I smelled the stuff in the bottle. Naively, I asked my mom if water ever smells like rubbing alcohol. She’s a nurse, so I figured she would know these things. (And, yes, I hung out in the garage when I was younger - that’s where the Barbie Dreamhouse was, ok?)

In addition to a few more incidents like that, my dad had a basic schedule: he would come home from work and start drinking Coors Light and just be, I don’t know, generally creepy. He’d sit in his arm chair, not reading or anything, and just stare at whoever walked by.

I assume this was the source of much of my parent’s fighting when I was growing up, and they fought a lot. One fight in particular that I remember was my mom trying to lock my dad out of the house. The problem was he was already halfway through the door, while she was trying to close it. It was really frightening seeing my dad trying to come through the door while screaming at my mom. Not recommended.

Over the years, to deal with my father’s drinking, my mom started drinking as well. She’d have a bottle of wine a night, along with a lot of food. She’d gained quite a bit of weight, while both my parents slipped deeper into their depression.

But, then, my dad disappeared for a few days. We never talked about where he went or why, but when he came back he wasn’t creepy. He had stopped drinking. I found out later that his work had sent him to a mandatory detox because there had been complaints that he smelled of booze and was showing up to work still drunk.

So, after years of his drinking, my mom was finally saying, “This is the man I married. I’m so happy you get to meet him now.” And she was right, he’s pretty awesome. Those were the years I found out how funny my dad is, what a crazy life he had when he was younger - basically I found out he was a person, not someone who just lived at my house.

A few years after he stopped drinking, my mom did, too. In retrospect, I had a lot of anger towards my mom that she continued to drink while my dad was in “recovery”. At the time, I thought stopping drinking was as easy as not buying it anymore. I now know that’s not the case.

Cut to four years ago. I was living in NY and in a really bad work and relationship situation, so I did what any sane person would do: quit my job, packed up my apartment and drove cross country home to Los Angeles in three days! I thought it’d be a good place to recharge my batteries, save some money and figure out what my next move was. My parents have an apartment at the beach and a spare bedroom - what could go wrong?

Within a week of me being home, my father’s mistress calls my mother. He’d been having an affair for some time with a woman he worked with. The fighting was astronomical. She kicks my dad out and he moves to a depressing apartment 20 minutes away and I’m tasked with helping my mom pay rent at their apartment. So much for living out my freeloader fantasy of being an unemployed beach bum - and yes, I’m aware this makes me sound like a spoiled brat who demands bean feasts. But, I assure you, I’m not.

At this point, he had to have started drinking again. For someone who’s never been to a formal rehabilitation program (outside of a detox), he didn’t have the tools to cope with his actions. Consequently, my living at home did not last long as I became my mom’s sounding board, and heard things no child (no matter how old) should hear about their parents’ relationship. Given everything he’d done, she still took him back.

So, I decided to move back to NY to give the relationship I’d left another shot because he had “changed” and “loved me”. So, my dad was going to be my co-pilot on the drive back to NY.

While grateful I’d have company on the long drive, by this time it was 100 percent obvious he was drinking again. He’s always hidden alcohol, but there are always a few signs he is drinking again: taking a lot of walks, and also, strangely, ordering non-alcoholic beers at restaurants. I think that’s almost a charade to say, “Look! I’m not drinking SO MUCH SO that I order non-alcoholic things - and ENJOY them!”

It was confirmed me though, when I was supposed to fly to NY for an interview at my now job. My dad dropped me off at the airport only for me to find out a few minutes later that my flight had been canceled due to a snowstorm on the East Coast. I called him to come pick me up (my parents live literally 5 minutes from LAX), and when he got there 20 minutes later, he was drunk. I should have told him to pull over and let me drive, but something happens and you revert back to being a little kid who’s afraid to upset their dad. We made it home in one piece, but that made me so anxious about the impending cross-country drive.

Armed with father/daughter anti-depressants, we set off on the road where at every hotel stop, he’d go on his walks and then just go right to sleep. I always offered to do most of the driving because I wasn’t sure if he was still drunk, and I could also drive at 90 mph to get me to NY sooner.

Now (if you’re still reading), he’s at the lowest point of the disease. He was laid off from work at 61 years old, and couldn’t deal with it. Christmas was terrible, and, for now, I’ll leave it at that. My mom and brother spent New Year’s Eve in the hospital with him, and now my mom’s dealing with him in the hospital again. He has pneumonia and his pancreas is shutting down, and if he ever drinks again it will be so painful for him that he won’t last much longer.

With the length of time I’ve known my dad as an alcoholic, I’m having a hard time feeling anything about this last hospital stay.

I called him after his New Year’s hospital stay and asked him to go into rehab. I told him I wanted him to walk me down the aisle (if I ever trick a man into marrying me), and that if I have kids, they should have a granddad. I said all this through tears in a convention center in Atlanta (not my finest moment). I mean, that is some Hallmark heavy stuff to say, but it was met with no reaction. I know it’s the disease, I know he’s depressed, but that’s sort of where the switch got turned off for me. I said if he wanted a relationship, he’d have to call me sometimes, too. He’d have to say “I love you” first before I did sometimes. I haven’t heard from him since.

So now, when I found out he was in the hospital I probably should have been upset. But, honestly, I’m protecting myself from getting too disappointed or too hopeful. It’s embarrassing to say, but the Time Warner Cable guy came to my new apartment to install internet/cable and it didn’t work out for some stupid reason, so now they can’t come for another THREE WEEKS to try installing it again - after he left, I cried (I mean, don’t they realize it’s the last season of Lost??). All that to say, I’m not a robot, and I probably needed that release.

To be clear: my callousness aside, I truly do wish my father would get the help he needs, I really do want him to get better and be my dad again. So, any good thoughts my way are appreciated, and I promise soon I’ll write about how I accidentally farted in a meeting, or how tired I am seeing the “Look at me I’m comfortable being naked” ladies at the gym. I wasn’t sure if I should have written this because it’s pretty personal, but I need to work on opening up - apparently that also includes on the Internets. Anyway, I know this is all pretty heavy stuff, and I know it’s not very funny, but it’s real and it’s what’s going on right now.

Fun with Netflix Envelopes

2010-01-23T08:14:00.000-08:00

I'm in the process of packing up my apartment and moving ALL THE WAY down the street to a bigger apartment, so I'm running low on entertainment. This morning's entertainment: Netflix envelop origami!

A swan!

A shirt!

Is That a Baby in Your Uterus, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

2010-01-21T11:38:00.000-08:00

I have been traveling pretty steadily in the last few weeks for my job, with the longest stint being in Atlanta for just under a week, a Wednesday through Sunday. The Sunday I left, I was actually only going to be home for a few hours with a car service picking me up at 2:30 am the next day, Monday, to head to Dallas. Actually, the car service never showed up and I had to beg a random cab driver at 3:00 am to "step on it" to Newark Airport and I'd tip big (read: show him my boobs for five minutes in a ROW).
So with little sleep, a lot of taking off and landing in the past week, a week before my "moon cycle" and no pooping for a long time, I actually made my flight. Honestly, what's with not being able to number 2 unless I'm at home? Gross, right? Anyway, please picture an atypically larger-than-normal bloated me. If you've never met me, just take whatever mental picture you already have (no doubt this) and add some weight below the belly button.
I arrive at my meeting in Dallas and am greeting the sales reps I haven't seen for a year, and one of them says, "Let me be the first to say 'Congratulations'". Well, I figured she was referring to the recent announcement of the added responsibilities for my job - not a promotion. Don't worry, guys, I'll just do two people's jobs for the price of one. Anyway, I was all ready with my modest response when she cuts me off by asking when I'm due.
When I'm tired, I'm emotional. When I'm NOT a pregnant woman, I'm emotional. I'm a sensitive girl. So, after telling this "sales rep" - if that's really her name - that you're NEVER supposed to ask a girl if she's pregnant unless they say something first; I spent the rest of the meeting trying not to cry. Being pregnant sounds awesome, but being constipated and mistaken for pregnant is the OPPOSITE of awesome.
So, please, don't EVER ask a girl this - EVER. I've since de-bloated and feel amazing with all the running I've been doing, and am very thankful that my self confidence has finally showed up after 27 years of being absentee. Otherwise, I would have developed a major complex over this. That woman's still a bitch, though.

I'm With Stupid

2010-01-14T11:14:00.000-08:00

I found out why today exercise is bad for you (read: me). With all the concentration on my running, I've stopped using my brain. After running 3.5 miles on my lunch break (!!), I was rushing back to work and thought I'd forgotten my running shoes in the locker room. They weren't in my gym bag, just my soaking wet clothes and my shower flip-flops.
I took out my phone to call my runner person to see if she could grab them for me and give them to me at book club tonight (I read!). It was then that I realized, on my way back to the gym, that I was wearing the running shoes the whole time. I'm so stupid.

p.s. I "won" the lottery and now I HAVE to keep training

The Benefit of Mom on Facebook.com

2009-12-30T11:33:00.001-08:00

I just got off the phone with my mother who has recently joined Facebook. She has eight friends and has already blocked seeing my sister's status updates because they can be COLORFUL, shall we say.
Today she told me she saw pictures from [event withheld] and [people withheld] looked like the banjo players from Deliverance. I've never seen this movie, but luckily I found the clip online:

I guess this is a very vague post if you can't see the original pictures, but I hadn't laughed that hard in awhile because the truth can sometimes be hilarious, as they say. My mom's a funny lady.

Day 2 of Training: Completed!

2009-12-29T12:33:00.001-08:00

I did it. I ran 3 miles on my lunch break with my runner person. I feel good; I think I'm still sweating, but that's OK. Last night was stretch and strengthening with yoga. The yoga teacher wore orthopedic shoes during the whole class. She moves at my speed, that one. Also, a fire alarm was going off during our "meditation time" at the end of class. Chi: Unharnessed.
I did a little more stretching and strengthening on my walk over to the gym, too. Only this time, it was because a rather large, elderly woman tripped and fell in the middle of a crosswalk on Madison Avenue. Usually, I'd laugh my head off, step over her and continue laughing, but we're at the tail end of the giving season so I tried to help her up.
It was difficult, but not because she was of above average weight. She was wearing a disgusting floor-length fur coat (for shame!) which was VERY slippery and slick from the lubricated souls of murdered animals. I tried to grip her arm, but it was so gross and sliding all around. She just kept saying, "Ohhh, help! Help me up!" Jesus, lady, I'm trying! I wanted to tell her that she should walk more like me: without a fur coat and with your head down at all times. Looking people in the eye and making human connections is very hazardous.
Tomorrow: 2 mile run or cross training.

Impending Doom

2009-12-28T12:49:00.000-08:00

So, yes, a half marathon. That's 13.1 miles. That's a little more than three times the distance I've ever ran in my entire life. Sit with that for a moment. Are you scared? Because I'm scared.
The race is on March 21st, but let's not call it a race. Let's call it an impending accomplishment. I can do this, right? I find out on January 6th if I even have a slot in the "impending accomplishment" (sidenote: after googling "impending" to make sure I'm using the word correctly, the first suggested drop down is "impending doom" - gulp).
After I - ahem - win the lottery, I get to pay $90 to run until I can't feel my lower extremities. I've already been warned that my toe nails are going to be doing some strange things over the next few months (!!) of training.
But, let's back up. A few weeks ago my dear friend and lifelong member of Team That's What She Said emailed me asking if I wanted to sign up for the lottery with another member of Team TWSS. I hesitated, but thought this would be a great reason to get in shape and have a goal to work towards. When I went to sign up, the site asks a very obnoxious question: "What is your projected finish time?" And, really, what do I know about running times? I selected 4.5 hours - seems reasonable, right? Well, I get a pop-up that says, "For the safety of you and the other runners, you must complete this race in under 3 hours and 30 minutes". Shoot. Not looking good so far.
Tonight is the first day until the end of my life, er, of the rest of my life. I'm following this training program, so expect to hear very loud whining from across the New York Metropolitan area on every Sunday until March 21st. I think it's very cruel to make me run 3 miles on day TWO of the training, but we'll get there guys. Also, I've decided that whether or not I'm accepted, I'm still going to train.
Luckily, I have the support of two wonderful friends, the new running shoes from Santa Claus and various running outfits to pull sweat away from my body. Did I ever mention that during a 5K, I sweat so much that my iPod stopped working? Yes, it was tucked in between the two sports bras I have to wear - not the best safe-keeping place - but still, pretty gross.

Holiday Lessons

2009-12-26T17:33:00.000-08:00

I learned a lot yesterday on Christmas. The only lesson I feel comfortable sharing right now is that commercials really work, especially on my sister. As I type this, I'm wearing one of my (favorite) gifts from her: a hot pink Snuggie. She also bought a Bump-It for her best friend and a Pedi Paws for our family cat - the poor thing has already lost two nails as a result.

Related: If I can fit into the child-sized version of a Snuggie, does that mean I don't have to diet or train for that half-marathon I signed up for?

Question

2009-12-22T21:53:00.000-08:00

Say you know a diabetic. Say this diabetic may or may not be related to you. Is it "recommended" to eat or drink 7 (full-sized) powdered donuts, a quart of chocolate milk, a medium Coke, medium French fries and two chocolate fudge sundaes from McDonald's and another bowl of ice cream with a few more cans of full-sugar soda in about 6 hours?

Really, this is a rhetorical question, but isn't that horrifying?

Frightened Rabbit

2009-12-03T12:02:00.000-08:00

One of the most treasured bands in my iTunes, Frightened Rabbit, only has one album. They have a new single that is so beautiful. I admit that one of the reasons I love them is their Scottish accent. I'm really fascinated that most foreign accents disappear when people are singing, but not this band. I love (non-United States based) accents so much.
Please to enjoy:

Their next album doesn't release until March 2010, coincidentally the same month I may be participating in the NYC half-marathon (I entered the lottery today). So, I'll be very happy to at least have some beautiful music to listen to during my last moments on Earth before running 13 miles.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-29T16:12:00.000-08:00

I've just spent the two days on detox from Thanksgiving. It was a good time, don't get me wrong, but it's nice to sit in silence for a few days after being around extended family. The highs were, of course, spending time with my brother. Our drive up had NO traffic, which was amazing. (Not amazing? Me accidentally taking the wrong exit for the Mass Pike with a 16 mile detour. Oops!) And, we even did our bi-annual stop at Friendly's where we ate disgusting (read: amazing) sandwiches with BBQ-drenched fried chicken, bacon and cheese on fried bread. (Although, my body was definitely rejecting the honey BBQ delight; I could feel it in my throat for a few hours. And, yes, that's also what she said.) We both "ran" the 5K Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning. I'm proud of my brother for running the whole thing, even though he's been sore ever since. That's what happens when you never exercise and your diet consists of Centrum Silver (it's on sale!) and Spaghetti-O's.
Another high was seeing a friend of mine from college on Friday night. We went out in Portsmouth, NH to a brewery. We didn't stay there too long as it got really crowded with bros. By then, I guess you could call it a BRO-ery – ha! (Please click here.) Besides the bros, there was also a girl who was negotiating with the bartender about putting more vodka in the TWO vodka cranberries she had ordered for herself. Part of the negotiation process involved leaning over me, too. But, sadly for her, it didn't work. Unrelated: is anyone else REALLY excited about the Jersey Shore House TV show that starts this week on MTV?
On actual Thanksgiving, my aunt and uncle had some friends for dinner along with my grandma. When they arrived we were in the middle of watching a photo DVD which had pictures of my parents before they were married, my grandparents when they were younger, me when I was adorable, me when I most definitely was not (light-washed jeans, hairsprayed bangs and braces? AT THE SAME TIME?!) I figured when their friends arrived, my uncle would turn off the DVD, but no such luck. They had to sit through quite a bit of the 45 minute DVD, poor things. At this point in the slideshow I had, um, gone through my developmental stage. So, there was one picture of my sister and I where I was wearing a V-neck dress and leaning over. My grandmother then blows up my spot and says, "Wow, look at that crease!" Thanks, grammie! That's the closest thing to a compliment I've gotten from her, and it was all about my boobies.
Overall, it was a good break, but I'm always happy to be back home in my now supremely-organized apartment.

Reason #24,895 I Love My Roommate

2009-11-24T09:35:00.000-08:00

My roommate - a performer/real estate agent - sends me text messages like: "I just rented the apt upstairs to a 28 year old single nerdy guy! He’s cute and tall and makes 100,000 a year. Hehe. Thought u might like to know about our new neighbor."

She always has her nerd-feelers out there for me.

Nesting

2009-11-23T09:15:00.000-08:00

I'm either seven months pregnant or just getting ready for the upcoming "hermit" season because I spent (almost) the whole weekend organizing my apartment.
I hadn't cleaned my room in over a month and it was bad. I even took a picture as a "before", but was so disgusted by how I was living that I couldn't bring myself to post it. As a Virgo, I'm supposed to love living in an orderly way, which is true in the common areas of my apartment, but definitely not in my room. I was living out of a laundry bag, and since everything in there was clean, I HAD to put the dirty clothes on the floor. For weeks I was walking on top of my clothes, including a bridesmaid dress that I ripped off as soon as I got home from the wedding last weekend (mostly to get out of the worst invention in the world - a strapless bra - as quickly as possible).
When I was done with my organizing, I had filled an entire duffel bag full of clothes that I'll be donating. Not just a small duffel bag either, but a gigantic one - one that I fit inside (as I've confirmed. It was a lonely weekend, I needed to be entertained somehow). I took everything out of my dressers and re-organized them. I took everything out of my wall o' bookshelves and reworked it. I pulled all of my shoes out of the closet and placed the shoes I never wear towards the back, shoes I feel guilty for never wearing towards the front and the shoes I always wear, on top of those.
This was not enough. By Sunday I organized all of my spices, which included creating a make-shift shelf to put the spices I use most (garlic, cumin, oregano) up front and the ones I use the least toward the back (nutmeg, curry, chicken seasoning (?)). Then, with everything organized there, I decided I needed to bake for the upcoming Thanksgiving trip to northern Massachusetts. I made a pumpkin chocolate chip loaf. While that was baking, I cleaned out all the flour/sugar jars and cabinet above the oven. Did my roommate need to hold onto that white chocolate Easter bunny still? Probably not, as it's been there for at least the last year and half I've lived there. How about that maple syrup that expired in 2007? Nah.
When the loaf was done (and deliciously un-poisoned, as one should always check), I made apple turnovers. Then jalapeno corn bread. Then dinner.
After dinner, I knit for a few hours before I fell asleep listening to Tracy Morgan's audio book (which I highly recommend!).
So while I could have found more exciting things to do this weekend, I'm really happy that I spent the time cleaning, organizing and knitting because I'm going to be gone for a lot of December (traveling for work/going home for the holidays for an ungodly amount of time).

Moving Day: Update!

2009-11-12T06:59:00.000-08:00

The day I helped my friend move, I met another friend of hers who lives right across the street from her new apartment. He helped transport some of her "goods". We realized that we work for companies that are related to each other, so we've been emailing for business and friend purposes. He sent me a box of goodies yesterday that he just had "lying around" the office. I want to work in an office that has these items just hanging out:

Star Trek shoes by AIRWALK
Star Trek "Warp Speed" Clock The complete I Love Lucy Series, which is my FAVORITE show ever. I already own this, so this may make its way to an online retailer!

And, not pictured, the entire Beverly Hills, 90210 series which I promptly put in my bag and took home last night to watch! He also sent some America's Next Top Model gear (which had me smizing!) and the entire Twin Peaks collection. I will gladly port around 10 pogo dicks to have such a great present show up in my office again!

Moving Day

2009-11-11T09:31:00.000-08:00

When I moved back to New York from Los Angeles in 2007, I decided to drive my car east. It was my boyfriend at the time's idea, so we could drive to see his family in Queens and drive to see my relatives in Northern Massachusetts. Well, we broke up two years ago, but I've still held onto that car. I'd like to get rid of it, but until then, I'll use it for the powers of good including: Target, the beach, visiting relatives and helping friends move.
A few weeks ago, I drove into the Lower East Side to help a friend move to Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I hate driving in Manhattan. As a pretty nervous person to begin with, it really stresses me out. But, my friend promised me a burger and sweet potato fries, so I overcame.
The friend I helped move was someone I used to work with at my first job out of college. I love her because she has this amazing life outside of work, which seems to be rare in the corporate world. This "amazing life outside of work" includes writing musicals, painting and even reviewing sex toys for a Web site.
When I got to her apartment, I amazingly found a parking space and went upstairs to help her grab some stuff. I went for this large black Tupperware because I figured I could pile stuff on top and minimize the number of trips. As soon as I grabbed it, she said, "Careful, that's filled with sex toys." I'm not entirely prude, but I do get teased quite a bit for not wanting to talk about sex very much. It was a little awkward.
It got even more awkward when I grabbed some steel bars and heard, "Oh, that's my sex swing." Even more awkward still, when grabbing a pole with the top half covered in a black trash bag and feeling something squishy at the covered end. What could that be? A pogo dick.
That sent me a little over the edge because I had been trying to manipulate the "object" to get it to fit into my car. I didn't realize the object was a rubber penis.
I don't know if I'll ever have a more unique moving experience, or a more delicious burger that I know I earned.

Psyche, Blogspot.

2009-10-08T09:50:00.001-07:00

I was just playing.

So long, Blogspot.

2009-06-12T08:02:00.001-07:00

I went to Boston a few weeks ago, and met up with my friend Carleton and his adorable girlfriend, Sarah. They both have tumblrs which I read and admire. I can't think of enough things to post here (which may mean I shouldn't have a blog at all), but I've decided to give tumblr a shot.

So, here we go: http://literating.tumblr.com/

Anybody?

2009-05-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

School Daze

2009-05-09T09:10:00.000-07:00

I've been in an elementary school twice in the last two days.
The first time was last night for an event put on by Found Magazine. My friend at work had been helping the creator, Davy Rothbart, order books for his events and it turns out they’re both from Ann Arbor, MI. He put her on the list plus one. At the end of the event, we went up on stage to introduce ourselves to Davy. He asked if we wanted to go out later with him and friends, so we ended up going for drinks at Niagara on the Lower East Side.
Within seconds of showing up at the bar, we found Davy and one of his friends introduced himself to us. “Hi, I’m Steve,” he said. I don’t remember what I said, but in my head it went like this: Holy shit, you’re Steve Buscemi and you’re gripping my hand.
We were also introduced to the guy who heads up the New York side of Found, James. The world being small and all, I’ve met James before. We met two years ago when I was on an awful date - not with James. It was a blind date in every sense of the word. The guy had gone to a Dan Deacon concert the night before and his glasses were smashed during the dancing. He said, “I THINK you’re attractive, but I can’t really see you.” Anyway, we were walking down the street together, he bumped into James, who is his neighbor, and the three of us went to the now-defunct comedy show Invite Them Up at Raffifi.
After awhile we left Niagara and went to some bar with a pool table. I played pool with a guy named Scorpion, I believe. But, I realized it was 3:30 am and I knew I had to go home because I had to volunteer this morning to play team sports with kids at the elementary school down the street from my apartment. I woke up at 9 am (I may or may not have been a little drunk still), looked in the mirror and it was ROUGH.
I didn’t take my make-up off before I went to bed and had mascara everywhere, I woke up in the same shirt I was wearing yesterday and at some point in the night, my friend grabbed a pen and wrote “I Love U” on my chest (to which I replied via pen: Don’t go chasing H2O-falls) and it wouldn’t come off. So, my second time in an elementary school in two days wasn’t my finest. I just really hope when we started playing tag, dodgeball and basketball, I didn’t smell like booze.

Subway Boyfriend

2009-05-08T08:12:00.001-07:00

Guess who I saw again this morning? That's right, Subway Boyfriend. And, his facial hair has once again reminded me of the month we're in: Moustache May - the most wonderful time of year. I didn't meet my goal of talking to him by the close of 2008, but maybe this is my year ... OUR year.

Phoeni-X Files

2009-05-07T12:44:00.001-07:00

For the last few days, I've been in Phoenix, Arizona for work. My parents flew out from Los Angeles and stayed with me in my (never going to be big enough) hotel room. I can safely say I will never move there, but the scenery was beautiful. The weather was really hot, about 98 degrees, but at least it was dry heat. Here are some scenic shots from a day trip to Sedona, Arizona:
Here is the best part, besides, of course, seeing my family. In Sedona, there are a LOT of psychics and vortexes (vortices?). According to fact (read: Google), the vortexes in Sedona are not created from wind or water, but spiraling spiritual energy. My source says, "It is not easily explained ... it must be experienced." Well, go no further than Ye Olde UFO Store. Apparel:

"What's Probed in Sedona, Stays in Sedona."

Oh, hi.

Wheelz.

Quit HOGging the Supplies (Get it?)

2009-04-30T07:13:00.000-07:00

Last night, I went to the two Rite Aids in my neighborhood to buy a little hand sanitizer as ammo to the Swine Flu everyone is freaking out about. They were completely out. The Rite Aid downstairs at my job in Rockefeller Center was out, too.
They were also sold out of face masks and a lot of their hand soap. I'm trying not to get worried about this, but the first U.S. outbreaks were at the same high school my ex-boyfriend and two of my close friends went to in Queens. I live in Queens, therefore, I probably have Swine Flu (although hard to tell when my allergies are raging right now, too).
This morning on the train into work, I saw a woman who was breathing into a pink hand towel. Last night I walked home and passed a big group of people wearing face masks. I went on a date with a guy on Monday and he offered me hand sanitizer within the first few minutes of seeing each other. Everyone else is making me feel like I should worry more. Kind of like my mom's worries when I first got my driver's license: "It's not you I'm worried about, it's the other drivers!"

Anticlimactic Car Accident Post

2009-04-27T08:37:00.000-07:00

This weekend I went to Newburyport, Mass. where my aunt, uncle and grammie live. If you live in the Northeast you know how beautiful the weather was this weekend; if you don’t live in the Northeast, well, the weather was beautiful.
On Saturday, my aunt, brother, grammie and I went to Salisbury Beach to sit outside for a little while and bask in the sun and watch boats putter about where the Merrimack River meets the Atlantic Ocean. On the drive back from the beach to my aunt and uncle’s house, we were rear-ended pretty hard. My grandmother was wearing a pink Boston Red Sox hat that flew off her head and I screamed loudly because I do not deal well with surprises – like, not even a little bit. I’ve had freak-outs so bad that I’ve needed to be slapped.
Thankfully, we were only going about 15 miles per hour, at most, and everyone is ok for the most part. The girl who hit us accidentally accelerated when she was trying to break in order to tend to her toddler son in the backseat. That was her first mistake. Her second was not driving with a license. Her third was not having up-to-date insurance, and her last mistake was being British (U-S-A! U-S-A!).
We called the cops to make it all official, and really, there’s not much to this story except I definitely have a sore neck and was a little shaken up. So, feel sorry for me, ok?

No Use For a Musto

2009-04-22T08:59:00.000-07:00

I saw Michael Musto on the street yet again. He was wearing socks and sandals and walking his bike down Sixth Avenue.
I think he’s a lot like that pop punk band No Use For a Name. In high school, I listened to Bjork, Radiohead, anyone who would be performing at Lillith Fair, and a few ska bands. My first concert was for the band Save Ferris, with No Use For a Name opening. I despise pop punk music, but growing up in Southern California it was difficult to avoid – much like No Use For a Name. I’ve seen that band more times than I ever wanted (read: once was too many), and all because I was there to see someone else and they were opening.
So, Michael Musto, I never really want to see you, yet you keep popping up over and over.

Team: That's What She Said

2009-04-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

Saturday I ran a 4-mile race with a few of my girlfriends. Our team name? That’s What She Said.
I woke up and had to be on the subway by 8 a.m. Even though it was early, it was filled to the brim (That’s What She Said). Soon, I was riding it with my friend (TWSS). You know, because we live in the same neighborhood.
Outside it was starting to get really warm. I was feeling warm, too (TWSS). We met up with a few other friends in Central Park. Another friend decided to lead us in a group stretch (TWSS). I’ve never felt more limber (TWSS)! It was definitely important for us to stretch because who knew how long we’d be going for (TWSS).
The park was so crowded with lots of athletes ready to run! With a scream and whistle, we were getting off (TWSS) on our start – not before we had a group cheer, of course. All of us did it at a different pace (TWSS).
There were so many curves and ups and downs (TWSS). Halfway through, my hip really started to hurt; I guess I wasn’t used to all that movement (TWSS)!
As much as we would have liked to, we couldn’t finish together (TWSS). But, wow, what a great time!

The Best Word I've Used in Scrabble To Date

2009-04-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

YETI: Only 7 points, but what a feeling.

Can't Spell Panic Without an "Eye"

2009-04-17T08:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wear glasses, but most of the time I walk around semi-blind because I refuse to wear contacts. The idea of sticking my fingers in and around my eyes completely disgusts me. I’ve never tried before, but the other day I got a glimpse of what it would be like.
You know when you buy new clothes/accessories, one of the first things you do is remove the price tag? Well, there are two types of people in this world: those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t, and those who rip price tags off and those who use scissors. I’m the latter and the former.
I bought a hair clip from H&M and was fixing to put my hair up and just ripped the tag. Something malfunctioned and a tiny piece of plastic flew right into my left eye. I screamed – a lot – and looked in the mirror trying to find the piece of plastic. It was stuck UNDER my eye lid. I could SEE it under my eyelid when it was closed. Continuing to scream and say “Oh no” over and over again with visions of eye patches and parrots on my shoulder running through my head, I had to dig around my eye and find the piece of plastic. This struggle lasted at least two minutes, but felt like 30 hours. Both my eyes were revolting, tearing, stinging and I finally found the plastic and vowed never to have contacts because I’m sure the experience is exactly the same thing.

9021-Oh-My-God, who are you?

2009-04-16T15:21:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the pleasure of going to a book party for Tori Spelling’s new release, Mommywood.
The party was at a restaurant near Central Park, and I went with a few friends from work. Within seconds of showing up outside the place, a car pulled up and Project Runway’s Christian Siriano (!!) emerged.
Once inside, I saw another familiar face that I just couldn’t place. It was this guy who was walking around in really tight spandex pants and ladies footwear. He was wearing insanely dark eyeliner a la Jared Leto, and it was driving me crazy – who IS that guy?
A colleague with very few, if any, social anxieties - unlike me - grabbed him as he walked by and said, “Who are you? You are fabulous!” He thanked her, continued walking as she shouted, “You better come back!” Later, and after he didn’t find us again, the guest of honor arrived and we walked closer to be within proximity to one of my television heroes – high school virgin cum clothing designer Donna Martin.
There’s not much to say about her except she is very thin, and prettier in person. She was filming for her reality show, but didn’t mingle or anything like that. Bored within a few seconds of spotting her, my friend and I found the mystery dude and started talking to him about him.
After a few minutes, and still not any closer to figuring out who he was, I asked why I should know him. He said, “Oh, I’m in a band.” No, that wasn’t it. I just nodded and went back to talking to my friend and his friend, a model (Who I asked if he was gay because I’d want to set him up with my boss. He’s not. Apparently, I was into asking really gauche questions that night!). Mystery dude walked away shortly thereafter and I asked his friend, “Really, where have I seen your friend?” He answered and neurons made connections, cosmos aligned, tectonic plates converged and I exclaimed, “Oh my God! That’s it!” He was a coach on the MTV Made series for “I Want to Be Made into a Rock Star”.
It was sad on a few levels: a) he was a Made coach b) he was ashamed to admit it c) I got so excited that the mystery was solved d) I watch Made.
This is him. This is his amazing video.
Overall, it was a fun night with lots of – what I consider - “A” list celebrities in attendance.

From the Embarassment Files: Item #876

2009-04-10T10:14:00.000-07:00

I'm finally ready to talk about it.
The flight back from Florida's work trip was uneventful. I had some light conversation about the book I'm reading, did some work and Su Doku puzzles from my complimentary USA Today the hotel left me. While the flight was uneventful, walking from the gate to the baggage claim certainly was not.
You know when people get into car accidents and sometimes a passenger who is asleep in the back is the least injured because their body just goes limp? Well, I was so exhausted after busy days filled with IMPORTANT meetings and late nights getting nutty in the "hospitality suite" with co-workers that as I was walking with my boss from the plane - probably gesticulating wildly about something - I completely barreled into this guy who was standing in the middle of the walkway typing away on his Blackberry.
He came out of nowhere, I swear.
I couldn’t stop my body so I just sort of melted into his suitcase and fell; I was splayed across the walkway at LaGuardia Airport. Of course my boss and I were laughing so hard that I could barely stand; I didn’t hurt myself (or so I thought), but all I could do was tell the guy I was sorry for beating up his suitcase. I’m such an embarrassment when I’m tired.
Of course, when we were back in the office my boss thought it would be funny to tell co-workers about my fall, so I spent a few days recreating the event and laughing over the tears. I'm not sure if it was the original fall or one of my many "dramatizations" about the fall, but my left hand's thumb has been killing me.

Waiter, There's a Baby Leg on My Beach

2009-03-25T11:23:00.000-07:00

I went down to Ft. Lauderdale, Fla. for a few days for a work conference; it was so nice to be outside without a jacket and scarf for a few days.

A colleague and I went for a walk on the beach together, with the warm water splashing over our toes. We had to weave in and out of piles of jellyfish that were brightest blue I'd see outside of a box of crayons. Then, we had to avoid another hazard, a baby leg:

As The Driven Snow

2009-03-20T07:17:00.000-07:00

Last night I found out I'm 85 percent pure.
I went to a book release party with my friend Anne for this title, The Purity Test. Everyone who participated received an answer sheet with spaces to check "yes" or "no" for forty questions.
Every ten questions we answered we were asked to tally our percentage of purity. For questions 1-10: 70 percent pure; questions 11-20: 90 percent; 21-30: 90 percent; 31-40: 90 percent.
What is my reward for "saying no" all those years to snorting cocaine off a stripper's rear end, not having my first kiss until I was 17 years old (seriously) and being the purest girl at the bar?
Hello Kitty stickers and bright pink cocktail napkins with a quote from Grey's Anatomy. Because, after all, "We're adults ... when did that happen? And how do we make it stop?"

A Day in the Life of my Finances

2009-03-17T07:10:00.001-07:00

Me: Hi, I haven't received my 1099 tax form from the bank yet. I thought those were being mailed out a few weeks ago and I'd like to start my taxes.
Customer Service Representative from my bank: Sure, let me just check your account.
Me: ...
CS Rep: Hmm.
Me: ...
CS Rep: That's strange.
Me: You're making me a little nervous.
CS Rep: Well, it seems there wasn't much activity in your account in 2008. We typically don't send 1099 forms out if there isn't much activity and/or there is less than $10 in savings.
Me (being judged by customer service representative): Oh, I see.
CS Rep (smugly): Is there anything else I can help you with?
Me: You know, I did just put a few thousand in there.
CS Rep: Mmm ...
Me: Bitch.
CS Rep: What was that?
Me: Nothing, have a great day!

Grandma-rnier

2009-02-16T14:03:00.000-08:00

I have very cheap hand soap in my bathroom that I think smells like tequila. Last night, I had a friend over for dinner and after washing her hands she said, "This soap smells like my Nana." I'm just saying.

Somebody to Love

2009-02-15T11:13:00.000-08:00

Last night for Valentine's Day I went on a date with myself. I had a few invitations to be out and about, but decided to stay home for a few reasons: 1) I was out until 2 am the previous night with my newly-engaged, finalist in the best couple contest friends "celebrating" 2) I went to brunch VERY early at Sullivan Diner and had french toast with a SIDE of toast and more coffee and water than the waiter was comfortable with and then walked uptown window shopping/flea marketing with a friend and finally 3) because I had two awesome movies from Netflix, Queen Under Review: The Freddie Mercury Story and The Last Waltz, the Martin Scorsese documentary on The Band's last concert.
This may not seem like the most exciting thing to do on the Hallmark Holiday, but it was perfect. The Last Waltz is highly-recommended. The Band was friends with some of the most amazing musical artists of their time, and some of my personal favorites: Neil Young, Van Morrison (who does NOT match his voice at all - hello purple suede glittered outfit!), Muddy Waters and Bob Dylan, to name a few.
The Freddie Mercury Story was amazing for a whole other set of reasons. Queen is definitely one of my favorite bands, but I didn't know much about them. Last summer I was shocked to find out that my aunt and uncle (who are in their 60s) had NEVER heard of them before. I always thought they were comparable in popularity to U2 or Coldplay (who my aunt LOVES) today. I burned them all the music from Queen I had, and my uncle's response? "Hm, I thought they wrote this music for baseball games!"
My favorite part of the documentary was when they were discussing Freddie Mercury's sexuality. One of the talking heads said, "It became abundantly obvious he was homosexual when he grew his moustache." Wait, what? Now, I'm not here to judge anyone - including the intelligence of the British who have given us such brilliance as English muffins - but, it wasn't obvious when he was dancing around in a bare-chested unitard? Or how about the music video where he wore a black, leather mini-skirt. No?
But before you pity me (hopefully you don't), my night wasn't without a little steamy action. When the guy who delivered my supper showed up, I realized that after I gave him a pretty generous tip and went back inside my apartment, my shirt was pulled down revealing a significant portion of my right boob. Nice.
Happy Valentine's Day!

College Bands

2009-02-09T07:58:00.000-08:00

In high school, a lot of my friends were in the band. I used to play the violin when I was younger, but there was no place for me to wear a bad uniform and travel to competitions.
I've always been really impressed with my musical friends, and have a whole new respect for them joining a traditionally unpopular social group in high school, some in even still in college.
Over the last few days there have been two amazing performances from college bands backing up two of my favorite bands: Beirut and Radiohead.
Friday night I went to the Brooklyn Academy of Music to see Beirut perform. They're such a talented band, and midway through their performance they used a backing band: the Vassar College orchestra. The show was incredible, they played a lot of new stuff and good Lord, the lead singer is a babe. I think more men screamed out "you're so hot!" than women did.
That same night they performed on Letterman, and used some of the orchestra in that performance as well:

And, on last night's Grammy's Radiohead gave an amazing performance with USC's marching band. In case you didn't see it, here it is (feel free to skip over Gwenyth Paltrow until she rightly calls them the "utterly brilliant Radiohead"):

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

2009-02-09T07:31:00.000-08:00

As you know, I've been dying my hair since I was 18. That stuff's expensive, even when buying my "Medium Golden Mahogany Brown Chocolate Caramel" Garnier from the drug store.
I have to dye my hair just about every three weeks, and each box is $8.49. So, every year I spend $147.16 on hair dye (a leap year: $149.99!) Before I buy a new box of dye I will check every pharmacy in my neighborhood - CVS, Rite Aid, Duane Reade - to see if any of the places have my shade on sale.
In my neighborhood there are two Rite Aids within a block of each other, and I've always wondered why. Until now. (Actually, that's not true, I usually save one Rite Aid to purchase all my "embarrassing" products from: toilet paper, lady products, etc. so there was ONE good reason already)
Being so broke right now, I was thrilled to discover that it was on sale at Rite Aid this week for 50% off, but only one per customer with coupon. I was with a friend of mine, and the poor guy, I made him buy me a box of hair dye at each Rite Aid so I'd end up with four boxes to carry me through the beginning of May.
There's no point to this, really, except I've learned this weekend who my true friends are and the lengths they'll go to keep me looking somewhat youthful.

Happy Birthday, Maggie!

2009-02-05T10:18:00.000-08:00

Anyone who reads this may have noticed a few links to the right of here. You see them? Well, click on the one that says Keegan Gross Family. Or, hey, just click here.
Today is Mama Keegan Gross' birthday. I've know Maggie since 8th grade, when I wore khaki overalls and white Keds and she wore mostly black. In fact, I think I lovingly (?) signed her yearbook asking her if she started her witch clan yet.
Maggie is a smart, beautiful and funny girl who always has perfect hair. She's also married to my brother's best friend, Josh. In high school, Josh would yell to me on campus, "Brian's Little Sister!" He may or may not know my real name. They're a lot of fun, and also parents to the cutest child alive in the history of cutest children.
Here's proof:

(I have friends who (from a safe distance) are obsessed with this baby, never having met said child. You know who you are.)

So, Happy Birthday Maggie! I hope you have a relaxing day, and take some time away from studying for the bar exam to enjoy your wonderful family and your special day!

Everybody Dance Now

2009-02-04T07:48:00.000-08:00

All day yesterday I was still sore from my night with the trainer, but I decided to power through with a Power Dance class at NYSC.
It took a lot of motivation because it was snowing horizontally on the walk to the gym - and I had a hole in my boot. I didn't know what to expect when I got there, but heard that it might be tough because sometimes the classes rotate in fours where they work on one dance routine every four weeks.
When I lined up for the class, I saw some people that looked like professional dancers. (I know what professional dancers look like because I own "Center Stage" and "Save the Last Dance" on DVD.) I even saw a guy that was wearing real dance shoes and what appeared to be the bottom half of a figure-skating costume - he wasn't hiding ANY secrets.
Before the class started, I was talking with another girl who had never taken the class before so we made a pact to stay together, and to keep going back week after week. The (male) instructor walked in wearing a circa early '90s Janet Jackson tour T-shirt and some very tight yoga pants. He said hello to a lot of the dancers who had been taking his class for awhile, some for as long as four years. He said, "Hi guys! Hi newbies! Just to let you know, I won't be dancing with you tonight because I just had a face lift and lipo the other day - don't want to pop a stitch!"
We started stretching, doing crunches, going through the positions of ballet (thanks again, Center Stage!).
I had so much fun in the class, I'm still on the high. I forgot how much I love to dance, learn routines and be sassy in front of a mirror. Plus, we danced to the best songs in the world.

What Am I Supposed To Do About My Legs?

2009-02-03T07:29:00.000-08:00

Remember that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit when Judge Doom gets steamrolled, and they find out he's a 'toon? He's trying to stand up and walk, but he's all wobbly and can't get his balance.
Well, that's what I feel like today ... only a lot worse.
A few weeks ago, I went to take a yoga class at New York Sports Club and the teacher was a few minutes late. A NYSC employee came into the class, took our information and we would all receive a free session with a personal trainer as an apology.
Last night was the session. I met with the trainer right after work, wearing a shirt I got after participating in a 4-mile running race to let him know I was a serious athlete.
We talked for a few minutes about eating habits, drinking habits, his successes and failures as well as mine. I refused to get on the scale, but agreed to do the body fat/BMI calculation. The good news: I'm about average. The bad news: The session didn't end there.
He started me out with jumping jacks, resting (and by resting, he meant running in place), doing high knee kicks, "resting", jumping in place, etc. I was winded, but I felt pretty good. Then, he had me do at least 50 squats which was a poor decision on his part.
After the squats, I had to do reverse squats - starting out on the floor and standing up over and over and ... I started to get that familiar feeling I had two summers ago on that hot subway platform. I thought I was going to faint again or vomit.
NYSC also made an ill-informed decision to use a polka-dot pattern on their floor which subsequently was creating one of those 3D images - only, I couldn't see the sailboat, I just saw the floor coming to meet my face.
I didn't think the trainer could do much damage in an hour session, so I didn't plan ahead and bring a rubber band to pull my hair back. I just had my usual hairstyle of pieces of hair pinned everywhere with bobby pins. By the end of the session there were bobby pins strewn EVERYWHERE. But, we weren't done yet.
After lifting weights for 30 minutes (!!), he gave me my evaluation (yikes), what I need to work on (everything) and asked if I wanted to sign up to meet with him again (no way). He was really nice, and completely understood that financially I couldn't do it and said if he saw me at the gym again he'd work out with me, which was kind - even if it was a total lie.
The worst part of the night, though, was getting home. Walking up and down stairs for the subway, standing for more than 2 minutes and having the energy to make a healthy dinner. Also, I bought some hand soap last week that for some reason smells like tequila. We all know my history with the drink, so smelling that after almost vomiting on my trainer was enough to send me to bed early.

Random Photos: Take 1

2009-02-02T13:59:00.001-08:00

I have had pictures in my camera since the summer of 2007; it's time to start downloading ... AND sharing!

Green toilet paper!

From the Smithsonian in D.C.

What happens when you order a bagel with cream cheese in Queens? A bagel with a melted piece of cheddar.

Sad.

Autumn in New York.

Back on the farm

2009-01-30T12:47:00.001-08:00

I took a day off from work today and, at 3:45 pm, I have yet to leave my couch. I've been watching television all day. Now, I'm flipping between Tool Academy (amazing) and Date My Mom (only because there was nothing interesting on PBS, of course). As this is my first time watching this show (read: not at all), I should explain the premise. Instead of going on dates with a girl his own age, the male contestant goes on dates with the daughter's mom to choose his later date, hence, Date My Mom. They always interview the mother and daughter before they go on their date, where it's their chance to say something corny like, "It's 2009, this boy's mine". Well, this one daughter looks at the camera and says, "This guy better be hung like a horse to get through THESE barn doors." ... um ... well ... (...) (...) I ...
I'm just letting you all know this is happening while you're hard at work, or watching Citizen Kane or reading the Collected Stories of Nabokav.

Outlook Not So Good

2009-01-29T13:42:00.001-08:00

Next Monday night I set up my first appointment with a therapist. Nothing too dramatic to address on the Internet (I'm fine, I'm FINE, ok?), I've just never talked to a neutral party about any issues before. My work gives eight free sessions: you locate a doctor, get an authorization number and confirm your appointment.
Now, I'm a VERY organized person. I love post-it notes, file folders and label makers. I use my Outlook calendar for work and social appointments, in addition to my cell phone and a datebook I have with me at all times.
After a very stressful week working a gift fair for work, I came into the office with a full voicemail box and one message from my soon-to-be therapist. "Ah, yes, please call us back regarding your February 2nd appointment with [name redacted]." I called back immediately - as a very organized and "together" person would - and they had the nerve to tell me I never phoned them back to confirm my appointment.
I thoroughly explained to them all the steps I had taken to make the date (including my appointment confirmation number!) and it didn't matter to them. "Could you come in at lunchtime?" "I don't take lunches," I said. "How about February 9th? Could you come in at lunch then?" "I don't TAKE lunches!" I said, losing my patience. "Well, we will call you on February 3rd to confirm if [name redacted] can meet with you after work on February 9th." This is where I lose it.
I'm so tired that I just start crying on the phone, "You mean I have to call you to confirm if I MIGHT have an appointment and I had a confirmation number written in two places for my originally-confirmed appointment?"
I'm really hoping my new therapist isn't exercising some radical form of tough-love therapy. Don't you think the last thing you want to do to someone who needs to make an appointment with a professional is make them cry?

My Chi: Unharnessed

2009-01-21T10:28:00.000-08:00

I've been taking yoga classes lately as a part of the "New Year, New Me/Operation Hot Bridesmaid" campaign. The New Year, New Me part is to work on being calm and dealing with my stress/seasonal depression in a productive way, rather than shutting everyone out of my life except Ben and Jerry. The Operation Hot Bridesmaid is pretty self-explanatory. If you need some help, I'm going to be a bridesmaid in my friends' wedding in November and I'd like to be "hot" for lots of reasons I won't be listing here.
Last night I had plans to meet a friend of mine - who is also on a fitness quest - for a yoga class at the New York Sports Club at 49th and Broadway. I left work, headed to the gym in below-freezing temperatures, changed and went to the front desk to ask where the yoga studio is.
He looked confused (which wasn't initially alarming, NYSC employees are a different breed of dimness) and said, "There's no yoga class tonight." Ever eager to take all the blame on myself, I apologized for wasting his time, went into the locker room, got my stuff and headed back out into the cold. I walked a few blocks north to the NYSC at 52nd and Broadway and asked if there was a yoga class tonight. Of course not.
I asked the employee, at 5:43 pm, if he wouldn't mind checking on his computer to see where the 5:45 pm Vinyasa Yoga class was being held.
"What, like on the Internet?" he asked.
Apparently my focus and centering challenges decided to begin before I hit the mats with the class. Desperately trying to steady my eyes from rolling, I waited "patiently" as it took him, no joke, five minutes (with joke, 23 HOURS) to figure it out.
"Your class is at 49th and Broadway," he drooled.
On the verge of frozen tears, I walked back to the original destination, re-locked up my stuff and huffed my way downstairs to the studio. I couldn't concentrate during the whole class because A) I was still upset about what just happened B) it was incredibly hot in the studio and C) the woman next to me was breathing SO loud that I wanted to leave, buy her some nasal spray and throw it at her head. Ommmmm.
I tried to let it all go, but the universe was very persistent. I got home to make dinner (a balanced egg whites with light English muffin!) and the crumb tray on my toaster decided to empty all over my kitchen like it had just sneezed. I vacuumed it up and moved on. Ommmmm. After dinner I realized it was finally time to put the last of my Christmas decorations away (what?) and took down this bright pink tinsel tree I had on top of my cabinets in the kitchen. When I was taking it down, an ornament dislodged and shattered all over the kitchen floor. I vacuumed again. Ommmmm.
I'm a student in progress right now, but I definitely need to work on exercising more patience and ALWAYS doubting a NYSC employee.

Zombies 101

2009-01-16T11:26:00.000-08:00

When I was in Chicago for work, I got to spend some time with my friend Ed who used to live in New York, but moved to Chicago this summer. Ed teaches at a local Chicago college, and next semester he gets to teach a pop culture class. When we were talking about what he's going to lecture about, he mentioned he wanted to teach one class about the popularity of vampires and their impact on pop culture. “Wait, wait, wait … that’s lame,” I said. "You HAVE to teach a course on Zombies."
My interest in the undead started when my brother gave me his copy of World War Z to read. Unlike the copy of Underworld by Don Delillo I've been borrowing for about four years now, I read World War Z in a few sittings.
Ed and I ended up talking at length about Zombies and their eventual uprising. Where we should be when it – not if – happens. I am so jealous that he’s getting paid to talk about this and other things that are important to me, like US Weekly and my new favorite show, Tool Academy, on VH-1.

Please see below for my suggested syllabus.
Suggested Reading:
World War Z by Max Brooks
The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks

Web Reference:
http://zombiebloggers.blogspot.com/

Audio Visual:
short length:

Zombie-American Chapter One by Ed Helms

>Zombie American Chapter 2
Zombie American Chapter 3

feature length:
Shaun of the Dead
Dawn of the Dead

For keeping all your courses and appointments at hand:
Zombie Pin-Up Calendar

We Want You!

2009-01-15T08:45:00.001-08:00

Today is my first day back in the office after many days of traveling to Atlanta, Dallas and finally, Chicago. I came back to work today (two hours late, whoops!) with a full voicemail box. One of the messages was from a recruiter in the "Chicagoland area" who wanted to talk to me about a Vice President of Sales position she is looking to "network".
This is the first recruiter call I've received, but man, they clearly don't know who they're leaving messages for. Yes, my title at work includes the word, "manager" in it, but it is preceded by "assistant". No, "to the" is not in between "assistant" and "manager" either.
Having just been in Chicago while it was negative 8 degrees and I had a hole in my boot; I'm not itching to move there. Nonetheless, I was flattered.

In other Benjamin Button news ...

2008-12-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

Jesus.