Another Awkward Week [4.18.14]

You guys! Happy Friday. It is finally, really, truly here. I was so thrown off all week. Do you ever have those days where you wake up and think it's the weekend, but it's only Wednesday or think it must be Friday when it's not? Well, every single day this week I woke up convinced, convinced, deep down in my bones that it was Thursday. Every day. But no, it was just Tuesday. Then Wednesday. Then, by the time it finally was Thursday I was so exhausted by all the confusion, I needed a nap. It was like Groundhog Day, minus all the groundhogs. Fun fact: I've never seen that movie.

Surprising, right? I know!

What's up for the weekend? Brian and I are going to Philly to spend some time with my sister and his family. I'm looking forward! Even though we're not exactly "religious," it doesn't feel right to spend Easter without family. How not religious are we, you might ask? Let's just say last night we wasted many an hour in an internet vortex trying to remember exactly how this whole crucifixion/resurrection scenario played out. Our Google Search History currently reads:  " Was Jesus crucified on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday?" "What is Good Friday?" "Crucifixion Timeline" (gruesome) and then "can your Confirmation Certificate be revoked like a drivers license?!"

Just kidding on the last one but mine probably should. I'm skating on thin theological ice over here. I hope they serve jelly beans in hell!

Ok that's about enough rambling about Easter + I  used up so many of my words yesterday on that epic ode to wedding registries, why don't we just cut right to the chase and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Almond Butter:

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I got home from work last evening and did item #1 on every single Top 25 Things All Girls Secretly Totally Love Buzzfeed list, took off my brassiere and realized I had some kind of schmutz on my decolletage. "What could this be? " I thoght and then realized it was almond butter. Leftover from my 2 PM snack. I was eating with such intense vigor I dropped nutbutter all down my shirt and didn't realize it for hours.

I think "ladylike" might be the best word to describe me? A vision of grace?

This Subway Track:

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See that black blob on the rail there? I walked down into the station after work the other evening and saw something large and dark moving all about the tracks. I instantly assumed it was the most enormous, feral rat rearing up on its back legs, ready to leap up onto the platform and eat me alive, and I jumped up and back, away from the edge and screamed "OH MY GOD!" anddd then realized it was just a plastic bag, blowing in the breeze.

(un)luckily for me, the New York City Subway System is as full of crazy humans as it is enormous rodents so not a single person blinked an eye at my hysteria but I still felt a fool.

This Washing Machine:

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Went to the laundromat after work on Monday to find it crammed full at 6 PM on a weeknight, so I hauled my laundry backpack up on my shoulders and clomped back home . I returned a few hours later and found just two empty washing machines. In a complete frenzy I stuffed one full, slammed the door and then, like Ace of Base, I saw the sign. Out of Order.

Le sigh.

IF ONLY I'd been at this amazing establishment brought to my attention earlier this week by my friend Jen. A laundromat that doubles as a bar. Complete with cheese plates. I can't imagine anything greater in this whole wide world.  I mean, maybe having your own washer and dryer in your own home but that's too bold a thing to even consider.

God I hate New York sometimes.

Speaking of laundry...

This Shirt:

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Last weekend we had a wedding in New Jersey so we spent the weekend at Brian's parents house. I brought out a few items of dirty laundry to deal with while I was there because, well, see above. I totally meant to wash it myself but then Brian's mom mentioned she was putting in a load and did we want to toss anything in? I'd have been a fool to pass that up and so I, an adult woman, had my mother-in-law wash my underwear.

New lows every single day.

The following morning I put on my favorite white t-shirt, freshly laundered (and dried and folded! God we're spoiled) by Brian's mom and about four seconds later, picked up a coffee mug and inexplicably poured half of it on myself. I'm not even sure what happened. I may  have had a small stroke? All I know is my favorite white t-shirt is now stained with some lovely brownish spots and I have but two options: go back to the hellhole that is the liquor-free laundromat OR wait until next time we visit the Scotts and see if Brian's mom could just have a go at the stains, perhaps?

Adulthood!!

This Outfit:

photo 1

This is me and my coworker and we sit right next to each other at the office and are in the midst of a big campaign together annnnd earlier this week dressed like straight up twinsies. Obviously we had a photoshoot.

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Somewhere high above the Hollywood Hills or Harvard University or wherever she is these days, Tyra Banks is shuddering in horror.  We are NOT America's Next Top Models.

And, scene! Happy Good Friday, everyone! Or Sad Good Friday, because Jesus dies? AAAAH I DON'T KNOW. I'm going to go eat some peanut butter eggs and get this day started!

xoxo Liz

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!