Another Awkward Week [3.8.13]

Good morning! How is everyone this fine Friday? It is snowing in NYC, what?! I generally try to be a pretty positive person, and an alliterative one at that, but I am 100% Negative Nancy about the month of March. I think it is a real tease. Spring starts in March and Daylight Savings and you really get to thinking: this is it. Winter is behind us. February is over and there's nothing ahead but blue skies and tulips and young mens' fancies lightly turning to thoughts of love. But NO. March gives and takes it right back - a sunny day followed by six days of cold, damp, freezing rain. Freak snowstorms. 31 long days with no federal holidays for 3 day weekends. One of my friends just described the month as "a fickle bitch." I think she's got it.  March is the gol-dang worst and I stand by that.

Harumph!

Ok, rant over (for now. MARCH! You fickle bitch.), let's take a look back at the days of yore, at what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Glove:

gloved hand

So I wanted to paint my toenails the other night - I loathe pedicures. They terrify me. I hate feet and people touching my feet. I'm shuddering just thinking about it  - but before I could paint them I had to remove the layers of gross, peeling, old polish still clinging to my nails since the last time I did them like 6 months ago. It's winter! Why bother? I had just painted my fingernails and didn't want to eff that up by using nailpolish remover on my toes, so I got the brilllliant idea to wear rubber gloves. But we only had one gigantic, left-handed kitchen glove, but I popped that bad boy on feeling like I'd just figured out the secrets to the feminine universe and promptly knocked over the bottle of nailpolish remover all over the sink. I then spent close to 15 minutes trying to get the polish off my toenails, not because they were THAT gross, but because it turns out that even the simplest of tasks are borderline impossible when attempting with your non-dominant hand in an oversized rubber glove.

OBVIOUSLY I still managed to screw up my fingernails .3 seconds later, making this entire fiasco completely pointless.

My toes are cute, though! TOO BAD IT'S SNOWING AND NO ONE CAN SEE THEM.

Rant still not over.

This Chest of Drawers:

dresser

This is my bedside table and also where I store my socks and underbusiness. It is part of a set of bedroom furniture from the Ikea Children's line circa 1989. This dresser can drink and serve in the armed forces. My sister and I had them in our bedroom when we were little and still use them today. Pro tip: childrens' furniture is the perfect size for tiny urban apartments!

Right, so, if you look closely at that dresser you'll notice that the bottom two drawers are missing handles (you'll also notice a hint of nude pantyhose sticking out one of the other drawers. Oh those hose. Always on the loose!). When I brought this dresser to NYC 6 years ago it had these really goofy red plastic handles, a side effect of using furniture for 3 year olds, so I went to Ikea and got new classy metal pulls. For a reason that now evades me, I think I might have run out of screws, I never ended up putting handles on those bottom two drawers. Ever. So every time I want to get a pair of socks or a pair of underpants, which is every single day, sometimes more than once, I have to open the second drawer by its handle juuust enough that I can stick my hand in underneath and grab the front panel and pull it open that way, and then close the top drawer and then get a pair of socks and then shut that drawer about halfway so I can stick my hand into the bottom drawer, grab the front panel, pull it open, get a pair of underwear, close all the drawers, realize I forgot my bra...and start all over again.

I have been doing this for over  half a decade now and can not get it together enough to just put on some goddamn handles. A regular Bob Vila over here.

Similarly, this is the artistic "gallery wall" hanging just as you enter my bedroom:

wall

As you can see there is a set of keys hanging on a bare nail. A mirror. A haphazardly placed, constantly empty glass flower holder vial thing, a framed piece of art that a friend gave me and a random ornament that was the favor from a friend's wedding in 2008.

I am a home decor genius! If you would like to copy this style, and why wouldn't you, simple take all random items you don't know what to do with, "temporarily" hang them on a bare wall in no discernible pattern and then just never move them. Initially you might be inspired to do something else with them, but eventually they will become as much a part of the room as the floor or the ceiling and you can just lay on your bed and eat cheez-its and pin things to your "Design Ideas!" pinterest board because you'll totally get it together one of these days!

Butttt you probably won't.

This Pile of Clothes:

clothes pile

Tonight I am going to a potluck with  Brian's colleagues. I've never met them before and I want to make a good impression! Which for me, does not just mean showing up, being polite and getting along with everyone, it means that on Monday morning, an email chain will circulate throughout the entire school, starting with the math teachers, getting to the rest of the teachers, until it trickles down to the students and the cafeteria cooks and the night watchman, talking about how incredibly beautiful and self possessed and hilarious and perfect in every imaginable way Mr. Scott's girlfriend is.

I had a whole outfit picked out but then it was snowing (RANT NEVER ENDS!) so I had to dress warmer and there were shoes to consider and I had no idea what the other guests would be wearing, for some reason Brian was not into the idea of polling all of the lady teachers to get a sense of their wardrobe choices, and then my black belt broke and like 80% of my clothes have holes in them and what if the hosts run a shoe-off household and I show up in dumb socks and it was just a really stressful day. I ended up spending close to an hour - ONE HOUR - trying on different outfits before settling on something somewhat acceptable plus I packed a bag with some backup options.

To spend one night at my boyfriend's house, which is down the street, and have a dinner with a bunch of math nerds (no offense math nerds) I brought an enormous suitcase with four extra shirts, two pairs of pants and five different pairs of shoes.

If anything, the high school will circulate an email chain that they need to keep an eye on Mr. Scott because his girlfriend is 100% unhinged.

Speaking of the high school...

This Stage:

into the woods

Last Saturday, Brian and I got up early, went to Target and then hit up the school musical. I have the social life of a soccer mom...but without the kids or the van or the sweater vests.

Aaaand I love it.

In case you're curious, the play was Into The Woods, the kids were cute but, like with most things in life, the whole thing would have been a lot better if Zac Efron had been involved.

And that was my week! I just re-read this and it was like 2% funny and 58% crabby and 40% boring, sorry! I need an attitude adjustment and fast.  But check out that mental math! I will fit in tonight!

Hoping everyone has a lovely weekend and if you feel the need to just complain and grouch about life, I'm with you, so do feel free to unburden yourself in the comments. #CrabbyFriday!

xoxo Liz

 

 

Another Awkward Week [2.8.13]

Good news, everyone! It is Friday and I am still alive. I don't want to get too cocky but I think the chunky garlic juice worked. Medical miracles y'all. Well, I'm still not feeling 100% and miiiight call an actual doctor today, like a responsible human, or I might just lay around and complain about how tired I am. Good news is: it looks like I'll have a nice, lazy ol' weekend.  Nemo Comin'! Per this New York Magazine article, NYC could get anywhere from zero to 38 inches of snow today into tomorrow -- a totally reasonable range that does not at all sound like something I'd make up as a hilarious exaggeration for a blog joke. More serious weather pundits are now saying we're due for somewhere closer to a foot. I'm so ready. Stuck inside all weekend with nothing to do but drink wine and lay around and catch up on Nashville? Well don't mind if I do.

Now without further ado, here's what was keeping it awkward this week.

These People:

new girl

Because you guys, I have a confession: I like New Girl! AAAH. Backstory: I have a general distaste for Zooey Deschanel in that terrible girl-on-girl hate kind of way, I just find her insufferably chipper and twee and obnoxious and also I'm crazy jealous that SHE'S the gal who gets to wear the "adorkable" crown and represent awkward girls everywhere and all guys want to sleep with her even though she'd probably narrate the entire sex act in song accompanied by a ukulele and match  her hair bow to her lingerie and where's MY TV SHOW??? So yeah, I'd been avoiding New Girl like the plague, even after cool people, people whose TV tastes I trust, told me over and over that I'd like it. I held strong, I did! But suddenly this weekend I found myself compelled to watch just one episode on Hulu and then just one was eight was two seasons and now I'm in love.

I don't even know what I stand for anymore. All of my principles and values, gone. Is this who I am, in the post 30 Rock world?

This Gate:

20130206_170057

This is one of three turnstiles that everyone must pass through when going in and out of my office building. Those metal arms in the middle swing both ways, depending on if you're coming or going, and every now and again they go a little haywire. Tuesday I left the office around 10:30 AM, due to my deadly illness. I went to exit through one of the turnstiles, but instead of swinging out to let me through, the arms swung back towards me, trapping me where I stood. I backed away to allow them to cool off and right themselves. They swung back to their center resting spot and then opened forward as I approached, only to wildly swing back towards me, slamming me on the thigh and trapping me in their embrace.

I yelped. People saw. I have a giant bruise the color, size and shape of a large eggplant on my upper left thigh. SMOOTH MOVES.

Speaking of yelping and scene causing...

This Mess:

20130204_135713

I usually eat lunch at my desk because I have a sad and dismal life and also we don't have a work kitchen where people can sit down like civilized human beings and enjoy a meal. Monday I was starving, as always, and was shoveling my leftover black bean chili (recipe here - so recommended!) in my piehole with such intense vigor that the force of my spoon actually FLUNG my tupperware container right off the desktop and all over my floor slash dress.

As the soup flew off of my desk in dramatic slow motion I yelled "Oh God!" so loudly that a passing colleague stopped to check in on my well being. NOTHIN TO SEE HERE. Keep on moving.

Lucky for me the tupperware landed bottoms up, so I was able to salvage some of the remains of the soup. Tiny victories.

What else is under my desk (aside from the now permanent chili stains), as long as we're down there? Let's take a look!

This Ikea Bag:

goodwill

Full of old clothes. I brought this into work right before I moved to my current apartment, intending to then sell them to a thrift store or something. This was 1.5 years ago. Still there.

Two Rolls of Wrapping Paper:

wrapping p aper

Sure. Why not.

This Charger:

charger

To an old cell phone. Necessary.

Five Pairs of Shoes:

shoes

Those black boots have been re-soled probably 8 times and then last winter one of the heels just fell right off while I was walking to lunch one day. They're unsalvagable and have been sitting literally right next to a garbage can for over a year now and yet I have not physically placed them in said garbage can to get rid of them. WHYYYYY.

And finally, wait for it, waiiiiit for itttt....

This Wig:

wig2

Part of a Halloween costume from like 4 years ago (sassy grannies on their way to Atlantic City), I've been storing this gem under my desk for some reason. Why don't I wear this every day?

The sad part is, that is totally what my actual hair would look like if I cut it short. Let this be a reminder to me should I ever decide to go for that classic Mom style. Future Liz, you are can NOT pull this off.

The end! Wasn't that a fun tour of the disgusting place where I spend approximately 80% of my waking hours? Am I going to clean out under there now that I've revealed my dirty secrets to the world? Not a chance!

I hope everyone has an absolutely delightful weekend. If you're in the path of the Snowacane, be safe! And if you live somewhere other than the East Coast, well, you be safe too. Everyone be safe! Buckle up! Don't drink and drive. Condoms every time! Wear a helmet! Read instructions before assembling any construction projects. Don't operate heavy machinery after drinking cold syrup. Just...be safe.

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [12.28.12]

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanza or Winter Solstice or Non Denominational December Vacation Day or whatever it is you might celebrate. I spent the last week at home in Pennsylvania and it has been lovely. I did all of my favorite things: watched Muppet Christmas Carol multiple times, went to the movies, hung out with my family, wept in the bathtub while drinking wine and reading a sad book (every year I save up my saddest entertainment for when I go home, last year it was the FNL finale, so that I can get in a good bubble bath cry. That's normal, right?), ate myself into oblivion and generally had a blast. Plus, we had a White Christmas! 20121224_174206

So pretty!

Despite all the fun, I couldn't help feeling like this Christmas went by too quickly. I know it is a cliche to say that every year goes quicker than the last, but 2012 really seemed to zip by. I'm going to make a concerted effort in the New Year to try to focus on the moment and slow things down.

But talking about the passage of time is a surfire snooze inducer, so let's change the subject! Here's what was keeping it awkward this festive holiday week:

This Photo ID:

20121228_074513-1

Because it is FINALLY legal! I know you've all been a part of this license saga from the beginning, so I'm pleased to share that I have finally renewed my drivers license and am once again a functioning member of society. Or at least just a semi-functioning person who is now allowed to drive a car. I'd suggest you all get off the road now.

This picture is horrible. My DMV clerk was about 60, a woman with long grey hair in two pigtails done Native American style with multiple bands at intervals down the plait and had tons of turquoise jewelery adorning her periwinkle fleece vest. She spoke in a very condescending, strange way "ok now you use this nice pen to sign your beautiful signature...there you go! good job!" and kind of creeped me out. I tried to smile in a serene, mature way because, I don't know why, I'm insane, and the photo is clearly hideous. But after old pigtails asked me why I "hid my pretty teeth" I couldn't decide if she was being insulting or encouraging so just choked and told her to hit print.

WOOF!

These Sweaters:

20121224_211942

Just kidding, they are amazing. My favorite holiday tradition is Christmas Eve. We've spent the past 26 years celebrating with our very dear family friends and every year is better than the last. This year we were gifted some seriously sassy holiday sweaters. Damn we look good.

This Trivial Pursuit Card:

J

Which came up during family game night on my turn to read. Specifically the yellow question which asks: "Which Greek philosopher's last words before dying of hemlock poisoning, were: "I owe a cock to Asclephius; will you repay him"?

The answer is Socrates. And also, no, Liz is NOT mature enough to read a question about someone owing someone else a cock during family game night...

This Blob:

Rug

This is a horrible photo but trust me when I say it depicts a giant red wine stain on my mom's living room carpet, courtesy of yours truly. Merry Christmas, Mom! Oh, and your birthday is December 25? Great! Stained rugs are the gift that keep on giving.

This Television:

20121227_101902

My Christmas gift from my amazing, generous mama but we forgot to consider an exit strategy. Today I'll attempt to lug this thing from Pennsylvania to Brooklyn via public transport. Should be totally smooth.

This Christmas Ornament:

webshare_1356698923120

One of my favorites on the tree! I made this in AP English in HS (I swear the curriculum was more vigorous than this craft would suggest) and every year it gets funnier and funnier. I'm not sure what's the best part of that acrostic. Is it using "available" as an adjective (so desperate) or "BOOTYLICIOUS!" in all caps (so delusional) or the fact that I spelled "intelligent" incorrectly (so...dumb!). Intellegent. Oh I slay myself.

Good thing I've really matured and changed since then...

And finally, the gem to end all gems that ever were gems:

This Advertisement:

IMG_20121227_164048

Yes, read closely, that is an ad for Central PA's finest rural sex club The Hedo Farm Resort. They're having a New Years' Eve Party that includes a champagne toast, DJ Dance Party and "Country-Style Breakfast" at 1 AM. I don't know about you, but to me, nothing says "hot sex club" quite like a late night buffet of creamed chipped beef and toast. Do you think they provide bibs so you don't spill on your harness or exposed breasts?

I went to the website (www.thefarmtravelclub.com SO WORTH whatever spam this will send me) and this place is BEYOND. I realized that the only examples I've seen of sex clubs are from like, Castle, when Castle & Beckett had to go investigate an S&M murder and they had witty banter and crackling tension or something, if that hasn't happened, I'm sure it will, but I've always assumed they'd be a little, you know, sexy. This place is potentially the least sexy sex club you could imagine. It is set on 40 acres of beautiful land, the party palace is an old farmhouse, which was hopefully formerly owned by someone Amish. They have two hottubs, a pool with a sun deck (clothing optional!) a beach volleyball pit (clothing suggested...by me...you don't want to be a diving dig with you cooch exposed, ouch), 25 "themed party rooms" and are BYOB. They have a very strict business casual dress code which emphasizes slacks as appropriate attire for both men and women.

"Everyone grab your chinos, we're going swinging!'

They also offer RV hookups, places where you can pitch a tent...both in your pants and in the woods (ba dum, ping!)...and are obsessed with food. Every night there is a buffet and every morning they offer a continental breakfast that prominently features danish. DANISH!

"So great to watch you screw my wife last night. Could you pass me another danish?"

Also, the owner's names are HERBY AND JUDY and their logo is a cartoon horse with the slogan "helping you horse around."

Basically this ad is the best Christmas gift I've ever received and I will see you all at the Hedo Farm Resort on New Years Eve. Get there early, the prime rib and stuffed haddock buffet starts at 6!

And there you have it. The last awkward week of 2012 - how wild is that? How did you spend your holiday?

xo Liz Ho Ho Ho (last time this year, I swear!)