Another Awkward Week [11.22.13]

Good. Morning. Dudes. How's everyone doing? I'm not gonna lie to y'all: I'm a scoonch on the cranky side. I just can't seem to accept the fact that it is not yet the weekend. That we still have 8+ more hours of working and wearing pants and generally being not on the couch. I can't get behind that. I call a foul on the whole earth. Everyone, it's time to go back to bed! Ok to save me from launching into a full on melodramatic tirade about the cruelties of the modern world, why don't we just try to put on our happy pantsand take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This "Poncho":


One possible factor in this morning's mood: it is grey and rainy here in the NYC. Also, I couldn't find a single one of the dozens of umbrellas I suh-wear we own, so I fashioned a poncho/rain bonnet out of a garbage bag.

Genius or pathetic? I'ma go with genius. Watch yo' back, MacGyver. Two can play this game.

Wish I could say this was the first time I wrapped myself in plastic this week but wait, nope...

This Bib:


I got to go to a super swankadoo work event on Wednesday night (The National Book Awards! One of our authors won!) so I was looking extra good at the office all day. A blazer over a cocktail dress can instantly take it from day to night! Did you know that? I should write for Vogue!

ANYWAY. We all know how good I am at eating food and I was worried about getting my lunch all over my dry-clean-only, snazzy day/evening wear so I hooked a grocery bag to the lapels of my blazer et voila: a bib!

Pure sophistication right there.

Speaking of pure sophistication...

This Makeover:


If you recall, one of my New Years' Resolutions for 2013 was to figure out how to wear red lipstick and drink whiskey. Lofty goals, I know. On Friday evening I hosted some of my lady friends for an evening of trying whiskey and lipsticks. We called it Classy Broads Night. To give you an idea of just what kind of broads we're dealing with here, one gal announced that she'd arrived via car service (classy!) ... but also wasn't wearing a bra (less so!). It was one of the best nights I've had in quite some time.

One friend, Kathleen, has become a fermented grain mash aficionado, so she led us in a guided taste test of  four different types of whiskey, each one more disgusting than the last. She was very official about the whole thing. First she poured us each a small portion (possibly called "a finger")  and then instructed us to "spend the next five minutes smelling it." Fun activity! While we sat and sniffed, she gave a dramatic reading from the back of the bottle, explaining the whiskey's history, flavor palate (i.e. "mint, leather, papaya, wood and Sweden" - yum!) and other general information. All of these were hilarious. If you are a struggling creative writer looking for a place to get out all of your best metaphors, flourishing adjectives and overblown narrative, might I suggest applying to be a whiskey company copy writer? These jabronies take themselves wa-haaaay too seriously. From the website of one of them:


Did you, though, really, guys? It's whiskey. I love my booze as much as the next Irish Catholic lush but let's all just calm it down a notch or 73.

Moving on. After we sat around and sniffed, Kathleen then allowed us to begin sipping.

"Like a shot?" someone asked (see what I mean about sophistication?)

The thing about whiskey is - it is terrible! Every sip burned. Kathleen told us it's supposed to hurt, just power through the pain. When one pal exclaimed that her esophogus was on fire, Kathleen assured her "that's good!"

WHAT! No. "Pain is good for you?" That's what they tell people in like, the NFL. Or concentration camps. Why are we consuming something that smells like nail polish remover, burns our esophoguses (esophagi?) and requires time and effort to enjoy.

I'm still not on board. I tried. I really tried! I know that whiskey is sexy and rugged and sophisticated and girls who sidle up to a bar and order bourbon, neat, are totally smokin' hot babes and I really want to be all of those things...whelp, I am not.

I'm an extra large glass of bargain brand Sauvignon Blanc. And I'm just going to have to live with that.

In the midst of our tasting, our other friend Nicole, who is a makeup artist gave each one of us a brand new, beautiful lipstick and showed us how to apply, complete with lip liner. Ooh la lah. Everyone looked stunning and amazing and then, since none of us know how to wear lipstick, we spent the next several hours alternating between staring at ourselves in the mirror (Kathleen!) to sitting very still, trying not to move our lips when speaking, for fear of smudging. We all need so much help.

My color was called Russian Red and as you can see above, it looked pretty good! I was feeling seductive and badass until...this happened:


How. HOW HOW HOW did lipstick end up on the bridge of my nose? I guess I touched my mouth and then wiped my face? I was probably biting my nails (gross, I know!) but why was I then rubbing all over my nose? There are no answers to these questions.

So there you have it. New Years Resolution 2013 ... complete? I drank whiskey and wore red lipstick and pretty much failed at both of them but I'm just going to go ahead and call it a wild success.



And I guess I'll just take this whole classy drunk theme to the end with a story for which I don't have a picture because, as you'll see below, I wasn't quite in the photographing state.

As I mentioned, Wednesday night I was out at this fancy party for the National Book Awards. The party started at 10 PM (on a school night! Are you kidding me?!), so to kill time between work and the party, some friends and I got a few glasses of vino before hitting up the high endopen bar for several more hours. A whole WORLD of good decision making right there. I am not joking when I say that I am still hungover. I can't hang like I used to, guys, I just can't. How does anyone a) stay up past 10 PM on weeknights, just in general and b) drink heavily while doing so and then c) leave the house the next day? My entire body is in pain. All day yesterday I was just wishing the grim reaper to come upon me with his cape and his scythe and just put me out of my misery.

Anyway, I think that I had the idea to include something in my blog about wearing a blazer and then putting a coat over it and how weird that feels. Double the coats! Does anyone else ever experience this? Men? Do any men (aside from Ross, hi Ross!), even read this blog? Do you ever get used to wearing a coat over another coat? What a strange strange world we live in!

So I guess that was in the back of my mind and then I had a semi-awkward incident again involving my jacket at this NBA party - I'd left my coat & tote (rhyme!) in the coat check but of course couldn't find my check ticket when I was getting ready to leave, so I had to walk around the cloak room with the attendant til I found my stuff. She then wouldn't just give it to me, I could be a common thieving robber, so I had to give her more explanation.

"What is the brand of this coat?" she asked. "It's from H&M, I got it on sale, and it still has an old dry cleaning tag stuck to it from when I took it to the cleaners several winters ago."

Nailed it.

"What's in this bag?" she asked.

"Dirty Tupperware!" I declared, triumphantly.

Nailed it again.

I should not be allowed in fancy places.

I guess I thought this was hilarious and amazing and wanted to be sure that I remembered to blog about it, so on the taxi home I sent myself a drunken email that reads as follows:

Coat clog: coat over blazer, coat check lost ticket.bag full of tullerware . 

Also.dont forget apple

So there you have it. My coat clog! And what do I mean about the apple? No freaking clue.

Famous last words: I am seriously never drinking again.

And that was my week! God willing this hangover will subside any minute now. Otherwise I might just end up in the fetal position under my desk listening to the Dream Girls soundtrack and quietly weeping. I don't know if I could blame that on booze, though, that actually sounds like a nice little Friday afternoon right there.

Hoping everyone is in a significantly better state than I am at the moment! Any good plans for the weekend (I'll be sleeping) or stories from the week? Make me laugh, it's Friday!

xoxoxoxo Liz Ho


Another Awkward Week [3.1.13]

My friends, hello! How was everyone's week! Mine was not too bad! Great news for all, after last week's hungover hoagiefest of a Friday, I'm back in business with some stories to share. So let's get to it. Here's what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Eyeliner:


Ok, that's the Almay professional shot of my preferred eyeliner because I couldn't  take a good photo of the stuff, but here's the tale. On Tuesday morning I was putting my makeup on and somehow got a streak of eyeliner across my nose. Like, down the side, around the front, basically just all over my nose. I don't know why, suddenly, after 15 years of wearing makeup, plus that one secret year when I wasn't allowed to wear it and I'd sneak it on in the locker room after gym class, secret's out, Mom, I suddenly find myself unable to apply the stuff without getting it all over my face/hair/clothes/mirror. I'm a mess.

I totally meant to remove the eyeliner streaks from my nose before leaving the house, but my roommate was in the bathroom where I stash my face wash and eye makeup remover, and somehow I just, well, I guess I forgot. So I walked to the train, waited for the train and rode 6 of the 10 stops towards my destination without a further thought. At Franklin Street, in the trendy downtown Manhattan neighborhood of Tribeca a stylish, gorgeous woman boarded the train and I was straight up checking her out. She was rocking that style where she was wearing tall, high-heeled boots and a skirt that was sort of long, so that the boots came up under the hem. It's a look I always wish I could wear, but I can't, so I resort to jeggings and keds, but girl was pulling. it. off.

She caught eyes with me and for some idiot reason I thought she was acknowledging me as like, a style equal, a similarly hot gal making every other passenger on the uptown 3 train jealous. But then she opened her mouth to speak and instead of saying like "great purse" or "is your hair naturally curly?" she very kindly, but slightly condescendingly whispered: "you have something on your face."

I of course caused a huge scene and basically yelled "Oh my god, I know! I totally meant to wash that off. Thank you! I really like your coat." She quickly moved to stand on the other side of the train.

Come back and be my best friend! I really do like your coat!

Related: That eyeliner is specially formulated, allegedly, to "bring out the hazel" in my eyes. I am the target market for specialty products designed to upgrade my very own features. I will buy literally anything if it is marketed as special for curly hair or hazel eyes or vampire pale skin. I KNOW it is just marketing mumbo-jumbo and they repackage the same stuff under different labels to make us all feel like beautiful individual butterfly snowflakes  but I can not help myself. Do you fall for those things too?? Tell me I'm not the only one.

This Wallet:


It is mine and it is Chanel! Just kidding, it is almost certainly from Kohls. I have a classier big girl wallet, but due to a really boring story about a broken purse, which I won't force you to sit through, I've been using this lil guy for the last few weeks. I have a really bad habit of taking it out of my bag whenever I need my work ID or some coins for the soda machine and then just tossing it on my desk and forgetting about it.  Last Friday night I met Brian and a friend for happy hour after work and as we were sorting out the check, I reached into my purse and: no wallet. I could instantly visualize right where I had left it, on the corner of my desk. BLERGH.

I keep everything I need in there: credit cards, photo ID, metro card, everything, and knew I couldn't go the weekend without it so I left the boys at the bar and ran out the door. Luckily my office was just a few blocks away, so with my expert powerwalking skillz I was there in minutes. After 7 PM you can't get in without an ID and, of course, mine was upstairs, so I had to plead the door man, who totally knows me, to let me in. He acted like he'd never seen me a day in his life before and sent me over to building security who sent me BACK to the doorman who finally remembered that we talk every single day and called the guy who specifically patrols my company's section of the building to come and fetch me.

I have this really bad like, upstairs/downstairs guilt associated with our building maintenance and cleaning staff which I KNOW is really pretentious and rude and condescending and #1percentproblems, but I am a horrible person, so now you all know. I just can't help feeling really guilty and weird sometimes - I have such an easy, dumb life and there is a woman who spends her evenings cleaning up all the food I spill on my floor and that makes me feel uncomfortable. So of course when our security guy comes to let me in, I become overwhelmed with this sense of anxiety that he works so hard and I'm just running around and going to happy hour and here he is working until midnight on a Friday so he can let in any morons who can't remember to pack their bags correctly. On top of all of this, this guy is incredibly nice, but not much of a chatter, so what do I do in this situation? I start to talk.

He rode four floors in the elevator with me, which seemed to last a lifetime.

I asked him how late he was working ("midnight.")  how his day had been, ("fine, thank you.") and if he was excited for the weekend ("of course.") and then just started word vomiting all over the elevator:

"I can't believe I forgot my wallet! It's so small, and I always forget it and I took it out to get a Diet Coke earlier today, do you like Diet Coke, I love it I know it's bad for me but I love it so much, so I bought some and totally forgot to put my wallet back and then I met my boyfriend for happy hour and realized I didn't have any money! So I just left him there and came back here. I mean, he picked up the check and would totally pay for me all weekend if I needed it, he's a really nice guy, he wasn't like 'Go get your wallet and pay for this drink!', how horrible would that be, no he's really super nice, but I needed my metrocard and stuff so now I'm here. Getting my wallet. I'm sorry you have to work until Midnight. Oh look, here we are at my office, there's my wallet....oh, you're running away down the hall forever the end."

Shut up, shut up, shut up!!

Please note that I had one drink during happy hour so this was not at all alcohol-induced, juuust my regular personality. If I'm ever captured by enemies and being tortured for information, all they'll need to do is put me in a room with a silent person who seems disinterested in my charming personality and I will sing like a bird.

And finally,

This Feast:


I know I've gone like 3 whole weeks without talking about my bowel problems, but during that time I've been attempting to regulate my body by trying out different diets I find on the internet. And never calling a doctor, obviously, why would I do that? This week I was attempting something called "Extreme Elimination"  recommended by a doctor who sometimes goes on Good Morning America, so you know she's legit. Basically all I could eat all week was white rice, plain chicken and potatoes. It was miserable. On Tuesday, I went to a buffet luncheon for work and from platters of pasta salads and sandwiches and goodies, all I could eat was a few pieces of sad chicken. OF COURSE someone at my table asked me what was up with my meal (leave me alone!) but I came prepared with a stock answer ("I'm testing for food allergies, so on a limited diet this week.") and was able to avoid awkward word vomit like the above mentioned incidents.

Later I came back to work and was confronted with THIS spread of deliciousness, home baked by one of my colleagues, but I stayed strong.


And then last night I went to an open bar, free appetizer work function and abandoned the whole thing completely.

BUT! I also made an appointment with a nutritionist for 9 AM Monday morning so I am finally being serious about my health. Yay.

And that is your monthly update on Liz's intestinal problems, you are SO welcome.

And that's that! Anyone have anything good planned for the weekend? I need to do some serious laundry, hopefully file my taxes and maybe, if I'm feeling sassy, do a little yoga. Prepare myself for my new holistic health centered lifestyle!

I hope everyone has a lovely weekend with no gross or upsetting digestive malfunctions and I'll see y'all on Monday! xoxo Liz Ho