Another Awkward Week [3.29.13]

Happy Friday! The very BEST Friday, if you're down with JC. Have you missed me? I've missed YOU! I was such a Busy Betsy this week, it was unreal. You know, I could have been an actual Busy Betsy, had things been different in my life. When I was in the fourth grade (never forget), I went through this phase where every week I tested out a different version of my name, Elizabeth, on my school papers. I'd sign them Lizzie one week, Beth the next, Betsy, Ellie, even Betty until finally my teacher pulled me aside and said that, while she admired my creativity and search for identity, could I stick with just one name in the classroom, for consistency's sake. And so I stuck with Liz.

Can you imagine? I wonder how my life would have been any different if I chose something else. I feel like Liz is very suited to me - kind of spunky and that 'Z' is pretty wacky - Liz! But what if I was like, Beth. Beth Ho. HA! I can't even imagine such a person. I've always assumed all Beths to be very quiet and serene and responsible and kind, almost 100% because of Beth from Little Women (seriously never forget!). Do you think  if I had stuck with Beth in 1994 that today I would be like, a peaceful kindergarten teacher with two kids, a responsible husband, a 401K and a love for knitting?

Wellllll, I guess we'll never know! #philosophy.

Aren't you glad you're stuck with me instead?! Let's see what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Coffee Shop

If you'll recall, I first shared a photo a few weeks back about a new coffee shop in my neighborhood who apparently had named their cafe Nouvelle Vag:

vag

Now, I don't know what "Vag" might mean in foreign nations, but here in America, where we speak American, that word stands for vagina. So, was this coffee shop intending to brand itself  Cafe New Vagina?

Well I guess they caught on because this was their sign when I passed by a few nights ago:

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Reallll smooth, dudes. No one will notice that "ue" is in a different font size AND color, is clearly a sticker instead of painted on or that the word 'Brooklyn' randomly pops up in the middle of the word. Keep on keepin' on Cafe' Vague Vagina. You're doing great.

This Egg:

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One morning this week I was hard boiling an egg and forgot about it and managed to set off our always delicate fire alarm in the process. I didn't want to throw out a rotten egg in our apartment and had just put in a fresh trash bag the night before - I wasn't about to waste a clean empty T-bag, those things cost like 79 bucks a pop - so I decided to just carry the rotten egg in my hand and throw it out  in a trash can on the street. After I styled it for this photo, obvi. Of course the first can I found on my walk to the subway was literally at the subway, four blocks away, so I was just walkin' along for blocks and blocks, gently clutching an overcooked egg.

NORMAL.

One of These:

 

tamps

Yes, boyz, those are tampons. (I actually uploaded this photo last night for some reason and saved as a draft, so when I came back to write this AM I had a post saved that was just a photo of a box of Tampax with the caption "blah blah tampons!" I should have just hit publish right then and there.)

 So, I am blessed enough to be experiencing my special monthly magical lady time this week, which is always a real treat. I strive to be a pretty body positive feminist so I know I'm supposed to view all this intrauterine bullshit as a sign of my beautiful fertility and strength  and uniquely feminine powers but I'm sorry, no. It is disgusting and uncomfortable and just plain the WORST. Ever a master theologian, I once said that I know there is a God because of French Fries (uhh, it makes sense in my head) and the reason I know that god is a man is because of this whole menstrual fallopian vaginal scene. Do you REALLY think that if god were a woman she would have stuck her own peeps on earth with all this grotesquerie? And pregnancy and childbirth? I mean! I've never been there, and I'm sure it is a blessed and powerful and beautiful thing and I'll change my tune when the time comes but as someone looking on, that looks like a nightmare. A pure torture hell Saw IV Human Centipede nightmare. Hormonal changes and you can't drink wine and you have to carry around a gigantic human being inside of your own body and then somehow push that human out of your own Cafe Nouvelle Vag and then struggle to lose the baby weight and postpartum depression and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh horrifying. Why would a woman god subject her kind to that sort of terror? MEANWHILE what in this whole lifetime process of periods and pregnancy and the whole 9 does a MAN have to do to procreate? Oh, right: have an orgasm. Rough stuff, dudes. That's not even close to a fair trade.

So yeah, pretty sure god is a man and maybe kiiiind of a jerk sometimes.

Um, ANYWAY, wouldn't it be neat if just one time I sat down and wrote something that didn't turn into a 750 million word tangent about my bizarre philosophies?

Tuesday of this week I had a straight up Seventeen Magazine Traumarama Moment. I had thrown a bunch of tamps in my purse as I was running out the door. Rushing down the steps into the subway station, I reached into my bag to grab my wallet and in pulling that out I also managed to fling a rogue tampon down the steps. I stooped to pick it up but just before I could a guy stepped on it. He realized he had stepped on something and that I was going to pick it up so HE too stooped, to pick it up for me, what a gentleman,and then he realized it was a tampon and we both just kind of locked eyes and I was like "oh, that's mine" (obviously) and stuck out my hand and picked up my stray period plug and he ran away.

As a grown ass lady I should have found this less embarrassing than a 14-year-old in gym class but nope: still awkward.

This Mess:

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So I've been working on a whole long post about my various strange food diets over the last few weeks - I know you've all been obsessively refreshing your internet browsers just dying to hear what's going on in my large intestine - but have not had the time to sit down and focus. Mostly because I've been cooking up a storm. I'm doing a two week cleanse to reset my system, which sounds hippieish and is and I like it, so sue me, wherein I do not consume soy, dairy, gluten, corn, peanuts artificial sweeteners orrrr alcohol. OK I've totally cheated on the booze thing once already but the food stuff I'm doing GREAT! I've been cooking a lot of my own food to make sure I'm always stocked with healthy snacks and meals even on the go. It's actually super fun and I feel like I'm doing great things for my body. Go me.

One day this week I decided I'd whip up a big batch of homemade hummus. I've always maintained (and, uh, still do) that hummus is just one of those foods that tastes better store bought, but making at home I could know all of the ingredients and avoid any gross chemicals and preservatives, so I got my Sabra on right in the comfort of my own kitchen, using this recipe.

First I tried chopping the garlic in my little food processor, but it wasn't getting it small enough, so I decided I'd transfer over to our large blender instead. So I unplugged the food processor, plugged in the blender, dumped all of the ingredients in there, and hit start. Unfortunately the blender blades were having a really hard time mushing up the chick peas, so I attempted to move the process along by occasionally jabbing a spatula down in there to get the unmashed garbanzos closer to the blades. It's ALWAYS a great idea to shove things willy-nilly at sharp blades. Always.

The spatula hit the blade which caused a chain reaction of things flying out of the blender, including one chick pea which burst out and literally hit me right smack dab in the middle of the forehead.

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Literally.

Incredibly sexy. I then had to re-transfer the hummus ingredients BACK to the original food processor where they whipped up into a so-so batch of hummus that was not near as delicious as store bought hummus and 100% not worth the 42 minutes of cooking time followed by an additional 42 minutes of dish, kitchen and face washing time.

I've also been drinking a lot of homemade green juice which has basically nothing to do with this story, aside from the fact that it's part of this whole cleanse, but it's really a trendy thing to do these days so I just wanted to show off to the world.

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This includes kale, romaine lettuce, spinach, parsley, green apples, ginger, celery and lemon. I am a Green Goddess.

It's OK to be jealous.

And that is THAT! My week. Well that + tons of work + work related evening appointments every single night + laundry + errands + a while lotta other stuff that has me feeling exhaustified. Luckily I took today off, holla! Brian and I are headed to Philly to visit our sisters and have Easter brunch with his parents. It should be a nice little getaway and there is a 150 billion percent chance that I will cheat on my cleanse the moment I am faced with a peanut butter egg or any sort of fermented grape product.

Happy weekend to all of you! I hope your Easter baskets are stuffed with goodies or if you are Jewish, your Passover whatevers are stuffed with lots of ...unleavened bread? Or basically everyone have a beautiful weekend with appropriate celebrations related to their own religion, culture or lack thereof.

xoxo Beth Ho

Nope. Would never work!

Another Awkward New Year: 2013!

Happy New Year!! I hope everyone ushered in 2013 with plenty of champagne and ridiculousness. I celebrated at a friend’s party in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He hosts an amazing bash every NYE - last year I left with a huge goose egg on my knee after a too-much-bubbly stumble and the year before, just hours after chopping off half of my hair in what is now known as the Great Round Brush Incident of 2010, I met Brian. Two years later, my hair’s better than ever and so are we. Worth it.

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I already posted this photo to instagram and facebook but wanted to show it off on yet another online medium, lest anyone not fully grasp how cute we are.

Alrighty then, once you've finished barfing over that internet PDA, let's talk New Year, New You type stuff. As is customary in this country and probably others, now is the time to look ahead and make some resolutions for the upcoming year. But before we do that, let’s take a quick look back at the past 12 months, shall we?

As a whole, 2012 was a good year for Ol Hobags. I got a promotion, made Freshly Pressed twice, ran a race, went from long distance dating to down the street dating, got a sassy new do, discovered glitter nail polish, drank a lot of wine and, of course, cured the common cold. Patent pending on that one, though. All in all, I’d give it two thumbs, way up. Beginning the year, I set a lot of lofty, extremely serious goals for myself, too. So how’d I do?

  • Catch up on Breaking Bad - NO :(. This is the greatest shame of my year hands down. One of the downfalls of having a boyfriend in the same city is that we have to...I mean GET to... hang out all of the time, which means I have less time to lay around, alone, bingeing on TV. Brian is currently catching up on BB but is still several seasons behind me so it's hard to catch on my end when we're hanging out. Boyfriends ruin everything. I just spent twelve minutes trying to think up a clever “bros before hoes” riff on this and the best I could come up with was “Mr. Whites before Date Nights.” That should be twitter trending worldwide any minute now.
  • Finally choose between Ryan Gosling and Jon Hamm (anticipating this is the year one or both of them proposes) - Threesomes! Why pick one? (gross.)
  • Figure out ideal hair color - did not even try
  • Try one new type of cheese each week - probably
  • Stop texting while crossing the street - absolutely not. Now that I own a smart phone, I “like” instagram photos while crossing the street. I am basically the Amanda Bynes of walking: a disaster waiting to happen.
  • Go to yoga class at least once - Yo, I went TWICE. Yoga is incredibly difficult. I know I’m late to the party on this, but it’s a lot more than just sitting around breathing. I went to a class on Sunday and can still barely move my arms.
  • Put a bird on it! - constantly
  • Wear red pants - yes!
  • Try Zumba - no!
  • Learn to correctly spell the following words: alchohol, wierd, Carribbean, embarass - alcohol, weird, Caribbean, embarrass (thanks spell check!)
  • Perfect faux British accent - pip pip, cheerio, old chap!

Giving it a very rudimentary glance it looks like I accomplished possibly half of these, mostly ones involving cheese and pants, so I think I did prettttty good for myself. Pretty, pretty good.

Now! Sayonara 2012, So Long, Farewell, Al Wiedersehen, Goodbye! It is time to turn our hearts and minds and belly buttons to the future: to 2013. I have been thinking long and hard (TWSS) about what I want to accomplish this year and think I’ve come up with a pretty solid list. Last year I didn’t get around to doing this until January 23 so I’m already a significantly improved human being!

  • Write More. I am in the midst of compiling a detailed plan of action called “How To Become a Famous Writer in ?? Easy Steps,” the ?? because I haven’t quite finished yet. So far it is 12 steps. Simple.
    • Step One: Blog More. I plan to be writing here three times a week, Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday. So technically I should have written this yesterday but I was confused and thought it was a Monday...which is still no excuse, I just said I’d write Mondays...off to a great start! Listen, it was my first day back at work after a week and a half off and I decided it was the perfect day to simultaneously give up coffee and begin an intense course of prescription sinus medication. I’m lucky my head hasn’t just fallen right off my neck at this point. What I'm saying is, stay tuned. It's happening.
    • Steps Two through Twelve: TOP SECRET!
  • Eat Nicely. This sounds hippie dippie but don’t worry, I’m not turning vegan. Hopefully! Actually, this resolution was initially entitled “Conquer IBS!” but another of my resolutions is “Stop Talking About Your IBS In Public All The Time,” so I decided to change it. Figure out what ails me and cut it from my diet. Even if it is something delicious like coffee (sob!) or gluten. But oh god, PLEASE DON’T LET IT BE LACTOSE! #cheese
  • Learn How To Wear Red Lipstick and Drink Whiskey. I yearn for someone to call me a “broad” by the end of 2013.
  • Be Present. Ack, again, this sounds very crunchy and hippie. Apparently I am turning very spiritual in my old age. Scary. But straight talk, for just a moment: I have a bad habit of fretting on the past or worrying about the future and it’s not great. Sometimes it is very not great, and leads to some rather serious anxiety, but other times it’s more subtle, I’m just never quite focused on the moment I’m actually living. As I get older and begin to think more about “adulthood,” I find I am constantly trying to speed things up (I need to get married! My eggs are drying up! What retirement community should I move to?!), or slow them down (my youth! We have to go back, Kate, we have to go back!) when I should be just enjoying where I am now: happy, healthy, relatively settled, hilarious, good looking and generally in a great place. Looking back on 2012 I feel like it flew by. I know it is a cliche to say that every year goes faster than the last, but I’m beginning to see some empirical proof of that and I don’t want my life to buzz past while I’m busy picking out linens for my imaginary future wedding. (Um, just kidding Brian!) This year I’m slowing it down, living in the present and savoring every moment. And if that makes me a crunchy spiritual hippie weirdo well, Namaste Bitches.

So there you have it. 2013: The Year of Living in the Present While Wearing Red Lipstick, Not Pooping as Often and Writing Up a Storm. I’m excited!

And what are YOUR resolutions?!

Happy 2013, my loves! xo Liz Ho