Hello, sweet friends. How is everyone doing today? I think we can all collectively agree this week was...not great. From Boston to Texas and back (not to mention the disappointing news out of the Senate) it has just been a chilling, sad, scary week and my whole heart goes out to anyone affected by any of this week's tragedies and to all of us feeling a little less safe, less sure about the future.
One small light that has emerged from this week is the reminder that, even in bad situations, good people prevail. This article, this roundup and this moving facebook post have all brought a smidge of comfort to me in the last week, and of course, this funnyguy brings a bit of much needed laughter amid the tears.
Love to friends in Massachusetts, Texas and across the planet. And everyone reading this, wherever you may be, do me a favor today, will you? Hug someone you love. Or if they're not a hugger, perhaps an arm pat. Pinch their behind. Smack them upside the head with a rolled up newspaper, gently, then laugh about it. Bring them coffee in the afternoon or a cookie at lunch. Snuggle a few minutes longer than usual. In whatever language works for you, show a little extra love today and this weekend. Life is short and scary and unexpected and impossible to predict, but it's also full of a lot of wonderful, beautiful things. Like love. Embrace it.
Aaaaand moving on to excessively more trivial matters, life is also full of humor and ridiculousness and vain people who like to talk about themselves on the internet all the time so let's insert a terrible segue from serious to silliness here (it absolutely destroys me that this is now the second time in under six months that I've had to make that joke) and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.
My department made baked goodies to send to all of our sales reps this week, to thank them for their support and also to butter them up so they keep loving our books. Buttering up is probably what I should have done to these pans because my banana muffins (from a box) came out looking less than appetizing. I made it into the office with five semi-salvagable muffins. My teammates had beautiful boxes of cookies and brownies and homemade whoopie pies that looked professional and I had this hot mess. You're so welcome, sales staff. Keep up the great work, I know I will.
Want to know where I got the mix for such delectable muffins? See below!
This Shopping Cart:
Last Friday night I met a girlfriend for happy hour and after a few glasses of wine, was walking to the subway when I realized, hey! I'm walking right past Trader Joe's. And they're still open! Why don't I drunkenly go on a shopping spree at 9:30 on a Friday night. And so I did.
This is my life now. Gone are the days of late-night shenanigans and inappropriate romantic decisions and pizza bingeing. Nowadays, my boozy impulse behavior is apparently just pillaging the hummus aisle and stocking up on dried fruits.
Over the weekend Brian & I were walking around Williamsburg (Brooklyn, not Colonial. I WISH!) on the way to a friend's birthday party when we encountered a group of people carrying huge bunches of turquoise balloons.
"Would you like a balloon?" one of the people asked, in a singsongy voice.
"YES!" I shrieked and ran to them, grasping at a balloon, ignoring the strange look on the person's face.
"I think she was talking to those small children," Brian said, pointing to the group of strollers and toddlers directly in front of us, which I had barreled through in pursuit of my shiny new toy.
Real, cute, Liz.
But, adults need balloons too! I call age discrimination.
I was going to give the balloon to my birthday friend, but when we showed up at the party we were super early and I felt weird and self conscious standing there holding a balloon, so I tied it to a post outside the bar. Sorry, friend.
This Laundry Bag:
Because those are my clothes, but that is NOT my bag.
Here in the Big Apple (no one calls it that), drop off laundry service is incredibly popular for those of us without in-building washers and dryers. It's relatively affordable and saves you from having to hang around the laundry mat, which is always just the best place in the world to spend your time. (<------------- lies.)
I usually don't do drop-off because it seems just too indulgent to me, even though it's not that exciting. I don't know why I put this much emphasis on it, but I feel like doing ones own laundry is kind of a grown-up thing to do and dropping off is just like, so excessively fancypants and snooty. Also I'm really particular about what clothes I tumble and what I line dry and I worry they won't do my wash in the right way, so I'd rather do it myself, even if it takes time. But, long story so, so, SO long, sometimes when I'm supremely desperate, I'll drop-off my tumble dry things (sheets, towels, gym clothes) before work, and then in the evening I'll pop in, wash just my hang-dry stuff, pick up my drop-off and bring it all back home, so I'm only wasting 25 minutes at the laundropalace instead of 2 hours.
Is anyone still reading this story? Good god, Liz, land the plane.
ANYWAAAAAAAAAAAAAY this week was one of those desperate times and when I went to pick up my laundry, the clerk handed me my sexy backpack and luckily I looked inside for some reason, because it was filled with someone else's clothes! The fuck!
It turns out they'd mixed up my laundry with someone else's, putting the wrong things in the wrong bags. GAH. The clerk, who did not even pretend to apologize, took his sweet old time poking through the stacks of clean laundry bags, lazily checking to see if any of the tags matched my pickup receipt and after FIFTEEN MINUTES he finally located my clothes, then took fifteen more minutes switching the items into the correct bags, so I really saved myself no time whatsoever by dropping off and added a significant amount of stress to my life.
It took all the strength in my being not to lose my marbles on this man. I'm never ever a complainer, I'll eat burnt food and drink stale coffee and just want everyone to love me but sometimes, dudes, I can't. I managed to keep my cool - I figured this guy probably makes like $3 and hour and has to touch other people's crusty underpants all day long - but not without serious effort. He wasn't even PRETENDING TO TRY to look hard! He never once apologized for their friggin mixup and was beyond rude to me. MLKMAKDJYLUMKS.! That was me belatedly taking out my frustration on my work keyboard.
But, it turns out I can't really blame him for ruining my laundry life because...
Used to be white but are now...that color. They were in the small batch of clothes I'd washed myself to hang dry. I must have let in something that ran because now all of my whites are greyish.
Just slaying it in the clothes washing department this week.
And then, less than 24 hours later...
From which I had literally just washed out last week's lotion stains and by 10:30 the morning after laundry night, were stained with permanent sharpie marker AND gloopy green avocado.
I am a mess. I'm going to give up on clothes all together. Laundry professionals can't handle them, I certainly can't seem to be trusted to wash them myself and I can't go more than 12 minutes without staining them, so I'm just going to start wrapping myself in plastic sheeting, like a mummy, and at the end of the day I'll just spray myself down with a hose.
And that is what's up 'round these parts. Anyone have anything exciting planned for the weekend? Tonight I'll be celebrating this gal's birthday and tomorrow my mama's coming to visit! We're going to go to the Guggenheim, walk around Dumbo and probably consume several gallons of pinot grigio.
Look out, New York!!
Happy weekend to all of you beautiful flowers and big love from me to you.
xoxo Liz Ho