Another Awkward Week [9.18.15]

GUYZZZZ. Do you believe in Mercury in Retrograde? Slash know what the even means? From my extremely basic understanding, it has something to do with planets aligning in such a way as to ruin your life for a few weeks. 


I don't really get / care about astrology. Like, I'll read my horoscope every now and again but I mainly ignore everything  they say and consider it mumbo jumbo unless it's like "Virgos are the best!" and then I'm all on board. So I'm not exactly one to buy into planetary shenanigans, but this whole Mercury in Retrograde thing is like, very hot right now. I feel like everyone I know is blaming the planets for their bad days and normally I scoff and scoff and scoff at them (behind their backs, I'm mean) but GUYS I am having THE WORST DAY and I visited this website: and apparently the answer is YES. Mercury is retrograding, whatever that means, and it is fucking with us all

So. Today. 

I awoke before the sun in a work induced panic, as is my wont these days, and decided I may as well make the most of my early start, so I got up and had some coffee and started this blog and put on a cute outfit and was all ready to walk out the door super duper early to get into my desk and get shit DONE, yo, and I decided I'd take the trash out on my way downstairs and THENNNNNNNNNN it turned out that not only was the trash super duuuuper smelly but also the bag had ripped and I managed to get smelly garbage juice all over our kitchen floor AND my aforementioned cute outfit.

Excellent! There is really nothing like a hot garbage bath to really kick off your day, you know? 

But then! On my walk to the subway (after I changed ensembles and cleaned both the kitchen floor and the inside of the garbage can...all before 8 AM) I saw a dad driving his teenage daughter to school, windows down, blasting Rush and singing along "living in the limelighttt, the universal dreammm," clearly delighted embarrassing his daughter in the passenger seat beside him and then I saw a really adorable little toddler boy (my favorite kind of boy!) (STILL CREEPY!) riding a scooter with a helmet that looked like a watermelon and a look of great concentration on his face and he almost killed me with cuteness and I decided these were good omens that the day would actually be OK in the end.

But then I got to the subway juuust as the train was pulling away without me, which I would say is another bad omen.

So THEN! I got to work and wasted a whole bunch of time writing and posting a blog entry about eating dinner at the same restaurant as the Mayor of New York which I would ultimately end up deleting a few hours late because a) it was kind of dumb and b) my day just kept going downhill.

Around 11 AM I got a text from my next door neighbor who is also our landlord's son and kind of the like, on-site landlord. He has keys to the apartments and helps get stuff done around the place. So he texted me:

"Hey all good. Neighbors smelled something burning on our floor."

Um, what?!???? 

Apparently the people who live above us smelled smoke but there was no one around to get inside our apartments and check it out - the texter was out of town for the weekend and Brian and I were both at work.

Of course I panicked, because duh, and decided I needed to rush home and check just in case. There was no way I was going to get anything done anyway, I'd be so worried about my house burning down. 

I raced out of the office sending Brian a bunch of frantic text messages and while I was riding the subway home I remembered that our smoke alarm has been broken for months and we keep forgetting to talk to our landlord about it and my brain filled with increasingly terrifying images of our whole apartment aflame, our dumb broken smoke alarm just melting from the heat, warning no one (I know, people would have seen the fire at this point but cut me some slack, I'm nuts). 

Oh. ALSO. While frantically racing home on the Brooklyn bound F train, I was graced with the gift of my period arriving early, whilst wearing a pair of pretty nice, hitherto unstained white underwear AND AND AND I stepped in gum.


Whilst I was on the subway, Brian got my messages, didn't realize I was already on my way home, panicked himself because we are BOTH insane, and HE raced home too. So both of us like, took off work in the middle of the day, and ended up meeting at home (at least I got to see his cute face!) and guess what was on fire? 


The whole morning was just such a literal garbage thundershower I was honestly hoping the apartment was on fire so I could just call out for the rest of the afternoon and wallow in self pity.

But nope. Nothing. 

So I just turned myself right back around, hopped back on that goddamn F train, and was back here at my desk by 12:30 PM having been through more (first world, I know) trauma by lunchtime than I have been in weeks.

To say that I would like to restart this day (or just shut it down completely) would be the underest of understatements. 

I am just going to sit here for the rest of my day, staring at this collage of Prince George photos:

prince george is perfect

And listening to THIS Ryan Adams cover of "Bad Blood" (from 1989 cover album which comes out Monday and I already preordered!!!!) because they are the only two beautiful things left in my day and you can't take these away from me, Mercury, YOU CAN'T.

Just kidding I'm going to spend the rest of my day frantically catching up on all the work I missed while I was riding back and forth from Brooklyn and blogging and deleting my blog and writing other blogs and melodramatically flopping around the office complaining about my hard life and other really valuable uses of my workday.

Le sigh. 

And how's your day going?? 

I sure do hope it's better than mine, mostly because if it was worse, this wouldn't seem as dramatic by comparison and then you'd get more pity and attention than me and oh, wouldn't that just be Mercury's cruelest trick yet!! 






Another Awkward Week [9.11.15]

Oh hello there. Apparently it is already Friday. Who knew, I ask. WHO KNEW?!

The week after Labor Day is always a bit of a swift punch in the face and this year things seem to be in hyper-drive. Our fall at work is probably the most intense season I've experienced in my eight years here and I'm tryyyying not to allow myself to become overwhelmed...but I'm not sure I'm succeeding. I keep having all of these stress dreams where like, I'm forgetting important things and have to scramble to fix them. Like the other night I dreamt we went camping (I hate camping!) and I forgot all of my clothes and had to drive back and get them and then I couldn't find them and I woke up in a cold sweat and immediately started panicking.

It doesn't take a Freudian Scholar to decode these themes. I've had some variation of that dream pretty much every single night this week. I'm so tired! 

I'm genuinely curious to hear: how do you take care of yourself when you're feeling really stressed? What sort of self-care routines do you put in place to help yourself navigate a busy season? The madness is just beginning I need all the help I can get! I'm trying to make sure I exercise at least 4 x a week, eat really clean and take these weird sleep vitamins. But then I lay awake at night worrying about what I'm going to buy my in-laws for Christmas (WHAT? Brain...why do you torture me?!) so I might need new vitamins, ha! I know, I'm nuts and need professional help but whatever. Here we are! Help! 

So this is getting off to a rip-roaringly entertaining start, now isn't it! Just gotta keep it real sometimes, folks. But life is not all stress dreams and frantic cardio, I promise!! In fact, this week provided plenty of moments of ridiculousness so why don't we take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week. Aside from this weirdly small font that I can't figure out how to size to match the rest of the font. How do computers work again?? 

Anyway. Let's go. 

This Text Message from a Stranger:

Look in your pants

Um, pass. But thanks for asking?

This Spot:

fly poop!!!!!!!

Just...squint real good, you’ll see it there. Guess what it is??


So the other day I decided I’d take my lunch to the park and catch up on a little work reading while I noshed. It turned out to be kind of a whole thing.

First I got a chicken schwarma wrap from this Turkish food truck I’ve been meaning to try and it was...not bueno. I don’t know what it was, guys. I’m not that finnicky of an eater but something about this chicken was just NOT happening for me. It was maybe gristly or chewy or something? Whatever, it was gross. I took out all the chicken and wrapped it in a napkin and threw it out and felt VERY good about myself when I saw a homeless man was sleeping on a bench LITERALLY 10 feet away from where I was throwing away my food because I’m such a picky picky princess. Ugh.

So I sat back down and was munching on the remains of my lunch - now just a lettuce wrap...yum? - when a big fly landed on my trousers, just above my knee.

It was HUGE and had some unusual markings so at first I was worried it might be a bee. I didn’t want to get stung so I paused just a moment to confirm its genus (species? Phylum? Remember that stuff from biology?!!! Clearly I don’t) and just as I confirmed it was, indeed, out from his little fly butt came a tiny - but visible!! - squirt of brown substance.


And then it just flew away! The classic shit and scram!!

I was so grossed out I sprinted back to the office. Well, first I took like,17 various close-up images of the poop stain but thennn I sprinted back to my office to do some serious scientific research.  

I didn’t know that flies even pooped but apparently they either barf or poop almost every time they land. And I thought I had a sensitive GI tract!

I had read just enough internet articles to assure myself that fly poop is both normal and harmless when I told the story to a coworker and she pointed out that maybe it wasn’t pooping on me but instead laying eggs and now my tasteful navy work pants are the nesting place for a whole family of flies.

WHAT. I’m not ready to be a fly mom! Where will they sleep? How will we afford school? We’re not prepared!!!

Upon further internet researching (always 100% the truth) I remain committed to my initial instinct that it was, indeed, a case of the old numero dos, NOT an egg laying situation.

Phew. Fly poop is pretty gross but when the alternative is becoming the primary caretaker of an entire family of diptera (look it up), well, I’ll take the shit and scram any old day of the week.

This Video:

Hits maybe a little too close to home. I spotted this mere hours after fully hijacking my friend’s Labor Day recap to talk about The Goose.

Me - “How was your long weekend?”

Friend - “Oh it was fun, I was at Lake Michigan and…”


Cue me forcing her to look at a 15 minute slideshow of vacation photos of a four month old.

I can’t help it, guys. This chick is the best.

cool sunglasses baby

I mean!!! Look at that 'tude!!

And that’s wasssupp. Big plans for the weekend? Brian and I might be hosting a BBQ for our annual joint birthday party (barf, I know I know), weather permitting, and Sunday I’m going to my first clothing swap where I’ll pawn off all my out of season Old Navy jeggings and hopefully score some designer duds in return. Cha-ching!

Whatever you do, I hope it’s spicy, delightful and absolutely fly poop free.

xoxo Auntie Lizzie


Baby Fever!

Oh hey! How's everyone doing? Do you want to meet my new best friend? Of course you do!

lucy babyperfect

Hi! I'm Lucy Joan! I'm two months old and like, not to brag or anything but my doctor says I'm functioning at the level of a four month old. I'll be at Harvard by age 7 at the rate I'm going! My favorite things are sleeping, eating, snuggling, pooping through my cute overalls in public and my Cool Aunt Liz! 


That's right world, I'm an aunt. On April 29, 2015 my brother Michael and his girlfriend Kathleen welcomed Lucy Joan to the world, and another star sparkled in the heavens, she's so perfect. The only sad thing is that they live in Chicago so I don't get to see them every single day. 


Lucy Goose has yet to make an appearance on le blog, I didn't want to violate her privacy without consulting her parents (even though like, 99.6% of the people who read this are related to me so I don't know why I thought it was time for some cyber security) but her parents have given me the green light to "fully exploit her" so exploit her I shall! Mommy bloggers get hella pageviews ... do you think there's a market for Auntie Blogs? Probably not? 


riverhead spokesbaby

I already have her working as a spokesbaby for Riverhead!  

The Goose is the best baby ever. Even Her Royal Highness Charlotte of Wales is jelly, she wishes she had half the class and charm as this American dame. Fun fact: Goose was born on Will and Kate's 4th wedding anniversary! Charlotte was born two days later. I was hoping they'd arrive on the same day and honestly, it's probably a good thing they didn't. If both my niece and the royal baby had been born on the same day AND it had been the anniversary of the royal wedding I probbbbably would have had an aneurysm. And now Lucy gets to be older and wiser and way, way cooler.

Also, you know what's a hard word to spell? Aneurysm. Yikes.

Here are some more gratuitous photos of The Goose because it's my blog and I'll baby spam if I want to. 

goose and her daddy!!

Also, I have a confession to make: I've got baby fever and I've got it BAD. I'd had some symptoms coming on lately - the yearning to speak in googoo talk, the pull towards the kids' clothing section in Target, the seeming magic ability suddenly be surrounded by babies or preggo ladies everywhere I look. I thought I was fighting it off but this visit to Goosie's house put me right into the Danger Zone.

I mean, how am I supposed to look at this cuteness and NOT want to get knocked up on the spot!?! 


(Right before Lucy was born, Brian comes into the living room and says: "I've been thinking about it and I want to be called Tio Brian." What a weirdo. Impregnate me weirdo!!!!!) 

I have a fever and the only prescription is having or kidnapping a baby. 

Or more cowbell.

DON'T WORRY I have a Holiday Weekend intervention planned replete with therapies from a variety of schools, including the foolproof Kids Ruin This School (methods include sleeping in, having sex in the living room whenever we feel like it, looking at photos of exotic travel destinations on the internet), the FOMO Sciences (getting drunk with my childless friends) and the controversial Tiresome Toddlers Philosophy, wherein I'll hang out with a bunch of rambunctious 2 to 4 year-olds and be reminded that cooing sleepy two-month-old angels quickly turn into exhausting little human energy monsters. This method is risky in that I might find myself enjoying the toddler time, which will intensify my fever rather than quenching it.

Wish me luck, America.

In all seriousness though (I do occasionally get serious, you know) the whole parenting issue looms large and near in our lives. We're 30 (almost 31, yikes) and definitely want to start a family...someday. We know we're not ready yet, we have a few too many adventures we want to do together before unleashing a little Hott Baby into our lives, but when will we be ready? How can we possibly know?

Also we should probably not call our future child Hott Baby...that could get dicey. 

Because I'm a cool, calm, sane cucumber, I have our lives planned out for the next few years right up to the exact month and, if my cycle stays regular, day we'll begin trying for a baby. What a nutcase. I still haven't deduced the position we'll go for (think of all the fun new stuff Cosmopolitan can come up with between now and then!) but I've figured out pretty much everything else. We'll enjoy a few years of fun, travel and moneysaving and then we'll have one perfect babymaking session that is as productive as it is passionate resulting in mutual simultaneous orgasm, the likes of which are rarely seen outside of romance films and a baby on the very first try.  

And since life always, 100% of the time goes exactly just the way I want it, this will totally happen! How fun!

Except, of course, that's never how it happens at all. The more I think about the realities of life, the more I wonder if we might not need to move up our plan or change it altogether. Mainly the more I think about life, the more I worry in general. I have seen friends and family struggle with conception, miscarriage and other scary and heartbreaking fertility issues and I know how difficult it can sometimes be. We could get pregnant on the first try or the hundredth or never at all. How long am I willing to push it? What if we wait three years to start trying and then it takes two more to get knocked up. I'll be 35. I know that's not old but it's getting into a riskier zone. How risky am I willing to be? I know I want a few more years of child free fun, but I don't want to find myself looking back with regret. 

My friends and I talk often about this and we all wish there was some kind of test your gyno could do, so long as they're down there, draw some blood or scoop out an egg or something, that could get a sense of your fertility. That could tell you if you're a Fertile Myrtle who should keep her legs snapped shot or if you might have a harder go of it and should start trying or freezing your eggs like pronto

Wishful thinking, I know. But it sure would be nice! 

I read articles about this all the time and ask parents how they knew they were ready to have a baby and often there is no clear answer. No sign from on high or lightening bolt or twinge of the uterus saying "TIS TIME!" You just like, go for it and hope for the best. And we all know how good I am at just calmly going for things without knowing how they'll turn out. 


B and I talked about this a bunch last night and for now, we're sticking to the plan with an addendum that we know it is flexible and we can revisit at any time and adjust as needed. I'm feeling good about it. So PROBABLY no Hott Baby for at least a little while longer. Don't get too fired up.

Until then, I'll just channel alllllll of my baby fever energy into spoiling my sweet Lucy Pants. 


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN HOW COULD YOU NOT WANT TO SPOIL THIS CHILD!!!!!!!! LOOK AT THAT FACE I'M DEAD BYE. 

Real talk for a hot sec: Are you a parent? How did you know when you were ready? I'm sincerely curious, I'd love to hear! 

XOXO and Happy Independence Day, America! 

Cool Aunt Liz