Another Awkward Week - Olympics Edition! [2.21.14]

Здравствуйте, друзья! That'd be "Hello, Friends!" in Russian. Ohh yes, I've got a major case of Putin Fever. Juuust kidding he seems like a raging D but I do love me some 'lympics so...Sochi 4 Lyfe. At least until like, mid-next week when the 2014 Winter Games are but a distant memory and I've moved on to some other temporary obsession.

But for now! It's nothing but curling and speed skating and two man bobsledding round these parts and I maaaay have completely forgotten to document my ever-important life. So in honor of this XXII Olympiad, may I present, with limited comment...

Five Olympians Keeping It Awkward This Week:

Bob Costas

I mean....yes, your eye infection does seem uncomfortable but you're only making it worse by incessantly talking about it. I think the appropriate action in these situations is to confidently power forward as though nothing is wrong, not call attention to the problem. I mean, that's a move I would pull.

And if you're behaving socially in a way Liz Ho might ... you're doing it all very, very wrong.

Jeremy Abbott

Too soon?

I know, I'm the worst. This poor guy just saw his life's hopes and dreams and hard work crush beneath him on the ice and even managed to get up and keep skating and the closest I'll ever get to the Olympics is right here on my couch eating tostitos but people face planting is never not funny.

Am I wrong?

(DIS) honorable mention along with Abbott: ALL of the male figure skaters. Allegedly the premier atheletes in their sport and not a single one made it through without falling?! A disgrace, I say. A DISGRACE.

This Kid

Strike One: With one exception for Anne Lamott, I strongly disapprove of white people with dreadlocks.

Strike Two: WHAT are you wearing. This is the Olympics, dude, show some respect!

Ok, mostly this awkwardness reflects upon me. The hijinks (see: gum chewing on the podium!) and "fashions" of slopestyle snowboarding have revealed what a deeply prudish and conservative granny I truly am.

Olga Graf

Unzipped her skating uniform and forgot she was 100% topless underneath. YOU GO GIRL!!

(Also: how is she speed skating sans sports bra? You srsly go girl.)

These Gods

Just awkward for the rest of us pathetic schlubs who have to wake up every morning and contend with the cold, hard truth that we'll never ever be as perfect as Davis and White.

Annnnd the end. Gold Medal in the "Laziest Blogger Competition: Short Performance."

What is your fave Olympic moment?? Let's dish!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

The Liz Ho-Lympics

I did it! I did it! Not only did I finish the race, I beat my personal goal by four whole minutes clocking in at 26 minutes flat. Booyah! 112th place, baby! I’m very proud of myself for finishing the race and equally proud of myself for finishing the massive BLT I had for dinner immediately following. Brian (who won another gold medal!) said it was not so much a BLT as a Bacon Hoagie. I’m into it. Running is impressive, sure, but slamming a foot long bacon sammy? Medal worthy. Proud as I am of my running skillz, I've realized I’m probably not going to make it to Rio 2016 for any sort of athletic pursuits, I have decided to start my own Olympics, the Liz Ho-Lympics, featuring events I either have a shot at winning, or would just personally enjoy. (Yes, I know I already tried to start an Olympics once and no one wanted to play with me but I refuse to give up. Persistence is a top trait in Gold Medalists, so.)

It is with great pride that I invite you all to participate in...

Featured Competitions:

- cheese tasting

- pun making

- manicure design

- gin rummy

- literal interpretative dance

- a pop-culture quote-athalon

- bar trivia

- French braiding

- omelet flipping

- naptime

 What should I add? What fictional Olympic event do you think you’d win?

 

 

One Awkward Race

Woo! Has everyone been watching the Olympics? I have...not. One of my roommates moved out and with her went our TV and therefore our Olympic watching capabilities. It is devastating. It is no secret that I love watching television, some even might say I live for it, and those people are correct. Life without a television is one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through and I would not wish this agony on anyone. I now know the meaning of that song “We Shall Overcome.” This is my cross to bear and I will bear it with pride. But oh, how I yearn for the Olympics! Second only to sports films, the Olympics are the best way to appreciate athletics. The ratio of human interest drama to actual sports is about 60 / 40, everyone is dead sexy (this guy is my current favorite, yowza!) and they’re over in just a few weeks, right when I start to get bored. Baseball, take note! This is how it is done. Cut down 95% of your games, fire all players with uninteresting personal histories, put a heartbreaking montage in between each inning and we will be in business. Sure I’ve caught up a bit on the internet, scrolled through hundreds of slideshows of Kate Middleton’s Olympic spirit (winner of the Gold Medal for Most Perfect Human) and caught TV at bars when I can, but it’s just not the same. Watching the London Games via GIF doesn’t quite do it justice.

Le sigh.

BUT! Maybe who needs the Olympics? “Who needs ‘em?” I ask!  For today, right here in Brooklyn, New York, a truly momentous athletic feat will be occurring. I, Elizabeth M. Hobags, representing the United States of America, will be running a 5 Kilometer road race.  That’s right. I’m pounding the pavement in the ol’ 5Kathalon. This should be interesting. The women have yet to run the 5K finals at London, but the current national record is 14 minutes and 11 seconds. I’m hoping to finish mine in under a half an hour. Or at the very least, just not die.

This is my first race in I think forever. I’ve been running more lately, half because I’m desperately insecure and want to look good in a bikini and half because Brian’s a big runner and he’s kind of gotten me into it. I’m certainly not advocating to change your hobbies because some may-un might layk it, but I do think it is nice to at least try to share in your partner’s interests, even if those interests involve breaking a sweat and watching middle-distance track races on the internet. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched a bunch of skinny dudes running 25 consecutive laps around a track. I don’t necessarily see it becoming my favorite pastime, but I do like challenging myself and feeling fit and I sure don’t mind watching my boyfriend jog around in his cute lil shorts.

So not to worry, everyone. I’m not going to turn into one of those work-out people, you know the type – shopping at Lululemon and tweeting about spin classes and putting up pictures of myself at the gym. We get it. You’re fit. Go home. Maybe (definitely) I am jealous, but I think there is a special place in Hell for girls who genuinely look good while running. I look like this:

And like Phoebe, I’m damn proud of it. So! If you’d like to se more of that, and who the hell wouldn’t, come on down to Prospect Park tonight and check me out. This race is part of the Al Goldstein Summer Speed Series, a bi-weekly 5K race along the ProspectPark loop, named after a still living, completely adorable (if mildly gropey) 80-something-year-old man. They give actual medals to the top 3 overall for both men and for women, plus medals to the top 3 finishers in smaller age group brackets. Brian has run twice so far and has both a gold and a silver. So, basically I’m sleeping with the Michael Phelps of the Al Goldstein Summer Speed Series. Jealous? Al G. himself goes to every race and he hands out the medals to the winners, making sure to kiss the female winners a little more than might be appropriate. You know I can’t resist a cute slash creepy old man with the hutzpah to get something named in his honor, while he’s still living. You are a hero among men, Al! I hope I win a medal!

Another bonus of tonight’s race, it only costs $5! That’s another thing I never understood about runners and races – they are so flipping expensive. Like, you have to pay THEM 25 or 40 or 50 of your hard-earned George Washingtons just so you can run around in a circle with hundreds of other people. Shouldn’t they be paying you to do that shit? Yes, I know many of these race funds go to charity but still. I am all for curing multiple sclerosis, or helping the homeless or whatever, but no. I will write checks from the comfort of my own couch or obviously go to any wine-centric fundraisers but, mark my words, no matter how into this running scene I get, I will pay anyone more than 5 bones to do so.

And that’s what I’m up to. Screw you, London Olympics! Just kidding, London Olympics, I’ll love you forever. If everyone could please think of me at 7 PM this evening and give a little cheer, I’d much appreciate it. I’ll let you know how it goes!

Once more, just because it is hilarious:

That’s not running, let’s goooo!

Oh Phebester. You slay me.

One Awkward Vacation

Hay hay hay. Just as I was getting so uppity about my post-reunion popularity, I disappear again. I wish I could say I’ve been up to something truly exciting or glamorous but alas, I’ve been dull. Working too much and struggling to pay my bills and otherwise being a boring adult. So uncool. I have this co-worker who is dating this guy, a real life Christian Grey this one, who every weekend sends his private car to bring her to his private plane to fly her to his house on Nantucket. Isn’t that bonkers? That has nothing to do with my life or this blog in any way, I just needed to share it. Bonkers!

I’m also going to the beach this weekend, to Fire Island, but my private jet is in the repair shop, so we’re taking the Long Island Rail Road which is possibly even fancier. Have any of you been to Fire Island? It is divine. It is teeny tiny, barely a half mile wide with water on either side (ok, yes, I realize that is the definition of island, shut up) and there are no cars allowed on the island so everyone bikes and pulls little wagons and sips cocktails on their decks and no one bothers getting dressed up nice and I just love it. I love it! Also allegedly Tina Fey has a vacation home there so I’ll likely devote a solid chunk of this weekend stalking her out. Look out Tiiiinaaaaaaa, I’m coming for you!

I am so weird.

Anyway, so we’ve been planning this vacation for months – we went last year for a few amazing long weekends – and I’ve been looking forward to it like a lonely former sorority girl looks forward to a new season of The Bachelorette – this is my vacation! My getaway! My time in the sun! I have spent the last few weeks dreaming of four long days, beginning Thursday and ending on Sunday, with my toes in the sand, beer in my hand, etcetera and so forth, but an unexpected tragedy has struck and now the weekend doesn’t begin until Friday! I am devastated! Who is to blame for this change in plans? Sources seem to point to me, since all documents discussing this weekend clearly stated that Friday was the official start date for the rental house and everyone else knew about this except for me, but I refuse to take the fall for this. I’m looking for someone else to pin this on. I think I’ll blame Chick-Fil-A. They’re on my ick list anyway and as Fire Island is a popular haven for the gayz, I can only imagine they disapprove of our vacation and through some kind of evangelical voodoo prayer power turned my brain to mush and disabled me from comprehending the dates on the calendar. That’s the only possible explanation!

Insane, maaaybe, but just go with me here. I’m mildly embarrassed & distressed by my changed vacation plans and need a scapegoat!

Adding to my pre-vacation distress, for the last few months I’ve been “planning” (aka sporadically writing lists in a tiny spiral notebook) for a gigantic, amazing day of activities, Olympic themed, complete with team shirts and medals and a drinking game I made up called Carrying the Torch and it was going to be so awesome, everyone was already like, London who? Fire Island 2012! But this week when I finally tried to get everything organized, 65% of my fellow weekenders didn’t even respond (rude! You know who you are!) and the rest were nearly unanimously not into participating because they don’t like “committing to structured activities.” Yes, I know you are reading this, and I don’t take it back: y’all are lame! What do you think this is some kind of relaxing vacation or something? NOT on my watch! We’re going to have an Olympics and we’re going to have some GODDAMN FUN!!

It is beginning to occur to me that I might be a bit of a control freak. I really don’t like doing anything unless we’re doing it my way. It’s also beginning to occur to me that I am definitely going to be that mom – you know her, the one who is always making her kids do organized activities, usually with some sort of educational value, all while wearing matching t-shirts with clever pun based slogans and puns. Future Children - I hope you’re good at 3 legged races and making sand sculptures of famous historical landmarks. Dibs on the Sphinx!

My poor babies are so doomed.

I’ve decided I’m still taking a vacation day tomorrow. Brian also took the day off because he too thought vacation started on Thursday. Apparently someone, not naming any names, but I heard it was his moron girlfriend, told him the wrong dates. What a dumb-dumb! So he & I are going to have a romantic staycation day. I don’t know what we’ll get up to – we might explore a neighborhood we’ve never visited or go to Coney Island or just ride the subway around and hop off in each borough and make out and then hop back on (haha gross! But maybe!). I do know the day will involve Bloody Marys, and many of them.

 

So that’s where I’ll be for the next few. Hopefully I win a Gold medal in my solo Olympics! I promise more stories upon my return – I know you’ve missed me terribly!

Xx Liz

One Awkward Bathroom Break

My fans! Hello! I have not abandoned you. I've been so busy banging hot dudes and training for the 2010 Winter Olympics that I haven't had a spare moment to blog. Life can be so complex. You know what else is complex? Using the restroom at the office. You know what I'm talkin 'bout. Everybody poops. I just wish everyone did it at home. In my office we have one ladies room and one mens room for the whole floor. This means that every single person on our floor, from the President of the company through the front desk temps have to share the same john. I ain't shy about toilet issues (clearly, I'm blogging about it), but there are few things that make me more suicidal than office bathroom interaction.

Below are a few prime reasons why, when I’m President of the United States, I’ll mandate private bathrooms for every person in the world. Or at least at whatever company I happen to be employed:

  • The Same-Time Walk-In: You’re walking down the hall, and end up in-stride with a co-worker (best if a superior). Suddenly you realize you’re both headed for the ladies room. You walk side-by side into the bathroom, making awkward small-talk, trying to think of a way to wrap things up. “Well, good talking to you, Pam, good luck in there!”
  • The Stall-To-Stall Chatter: Even worse than above is the co-worker who wants to chat with you whilst on the loo. There is no need to do business while doing your business.
  • Sink Time: You and a co-worker stand side by side washing up. Who will finish first? You don’t want to seem groady. Just keep scrubbing. If you feel like getting frisky, make some competitive eye-contact in the mirror: “You think you’re more hygienic than me? I dare you to try.”
  • Makeup Time: Nothing says “Hi, I’m desperate and lonely and hoping to get felt up over a free dinner” like applying bronzer by the fluorescent light of the ladies room. No one needs to see that.
  • Anything, ever, involving a high-level boss in the lavatory: There have been times when I’ve purposefully gone to different floors in the building, backtracked on my way to the bathroom, or just plain held it for the rest of the day to avoid having to walk in on my boss applying her lipstick while I’m about to drop a deuce. Kill me.

Other awkward bathroom run-ins include Farting while you pee (it happens!), being on the same schedule (“Oh! You again! Haha!”), having a dude boss and walking out of the ladies room while he walks into the men’s room (Ickyyyy. Boy poop.), carrying supplies for ‘that time of the month’ (eerily reminiscent of Jr. High), and, we can get into this in further detail later, the beer shits.

And on that note, we’re done here.  Who's glad I'm back?

Had an awkward bathroom run-in? Leave it in the comments! (I’ve always wanted to say that).