Another Awkward Week [10.3.14]

Well, well, welll! What do we have here? Bet you didn't expect to see me 'round these parts after Monday's big manifesto. But just goes to show how surprising life can be. Sometimes you don't feel like blogging and then life throws a dildo at your feet and suddenly you're full of inspiration. Oh, that's not a gross metaphor. Just a true anecdote from the disgusting metropolis I call home.

WARNING!

NSFLife!

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I spotted this um, big boy, on my commute home the other night, just laying on the dirty grate outside of my subway stop, directly next to the artisinal pickle stand.

That's also not a metaphor, they really sell real pickles.

I spotted it out of the corner of my eye and kept walking past and then the second my brain registered "that's what you think it is!!!" I screeched to a halt and whipped out my camera faster than you could yell "stray weiner!" and the pickle sales guy saw me and was like "oh hey did you drop something" and I was like "oh yeah!" and he may have been vaguely sexually harassing me but the whole thing was just too surreal for me to get my #yesallwomen hat out so I just laughed and ran away.

WHAT A WEIRD GROSS DIRTY CITY THIS IS!!

Also so sad for whoever dropped this :(

This is the second best piece of sexual paraphernalia I found on the streets of this town, the first being an unmarked DVD case, inside of which was a disc labeled "Grandpa and the Shemales" which my friends and I found late late laaate one night leaving a bar back when we were young and cool and stayed out until 4 AM. We took this dirty porno out of the gutter (whyyy?) and went home and popped the disc into the DVD player (kids, this is what people used before Netflix was invented) and made it about three point eight seconds before turning it off in horror. Even in a fuzzy stupor of a million Miller Lights or whatever it was we consumed back in our youth, this video was TOO MUCH. Just too much. Basically a greatest hists compilation of all the most perverse perversities you can think of. Actually if you can think of the things that we saw on this DVD I don't even want to know you because you are DIRTAY. Normally I'd be like "whatever floats your boat!" but even my alleged open-mindedness has it's limits and maybe sometimes DON'T FLOAT YOUR BOAT, you boat should sink,  you freaky DEAK.

Obviously I still own this DVD and, though I find it utterly grotesque and dirty on literally every level from the physical -it did come from the gutter, after all - to the psychological, it is my most treasured possession and I have now moved it with me to three separate apartments.

Perhaps I am the freaky deak?

PERHAPS!

I did, however, leave the errant dildo laying on the street, don't worry.

I really hope my mom's reading this now. She must be SO PROUD.

To cleanse your palate, here is a story totally free of dildos. At least to my knowledge - you never know what weird stuff people are up to.

Star of the story: This Cup

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I am obsessed with hydration to a level bordering on insane. I always drink at least the recommended 64-oz of H2O per day if not much more. I never leave home without a water bottle and at work, am constantly filling and chugging and re-filling this big sippy cup. I remember in high school the field hockey coach was kind of scary - I didn't play field hockey, I lack the hand-eye skills - but there was this rumor (or real story? Who remembers these things!) going around that she wanted the girls on the team to stay hydrated so she would check the color of their pee at the end of the day and if it wasn't totally clear, she'd yell at them.

Did I make this up? What a weird thing to make up, but even weirder, I guess if it is true. Anyway that was the first time I learned about visible signs of dehydration and have been totally obsessed with the color of my urine ever since and get way stressed if my pee isn't clear.

Why on EARTH do I feel like this is an appropriate fact to unleash on the world the world? I need help. I am clearly subscribing to the Lena Dunham school of over-sharing.

I am the voice and clear pee of my generation!

Good lord, Liz.

ANYWAY, the other day I went to fill up my water for probably the eighty-fifth time. The office water cooler is right inside the entry to our little kitchenette,  so usually there's a bit of a jam up to get to the microwave or the fridge or whatever. As I was filling my water, a young gentleman colleague I'd never seen before was reheating something in the mikey. I filled my cup, set it down on top of the water cooler, idly screwed on the lid and made the major rookie mistake of picking it up by said lid.

Big mistake. HUGE.

I must not have screwed it on tightly enough because suddenly all I had in my hand was the lid, the cup flew to the floor and water was EVERYWHERE.

I am not joking. It remains the greatest mystery of science to me how liquid can seem so small when in a cup but when spilled, appears to grow by a billion gallons. I had water on my pants, on my shoes, it was all over the water cooler, the floor...the rando young man heating up his leftover Chinese food.

Instead of being mad, he seemed deeply concerned for my safety, probably because instead of just calmly reacting like a normal human, I loudly gawped and yelped and flung my gangly arms all over the place and generally made a scene.

Oy yoy YOY.

I then went into the bathroom to dry off and ran into two colleagues at the sinks. I recounted the story and the first response outta both of them was "THAT'S going on the blog" because I am a cliche of myself at this point.

WOW this whole post just makes me sound like a raving madwoman. Owning it. Thirty and Flirty and Oversharing About Pee and Dildos. All Day. Errryday.

Have a GREAT weekend, you guys!! What are you up to? We're going to an Indian engagement party out in NJ to visit Brian's parents (ugh, the inlaws. Am I right, folks?! Whackawhacka) and also attend an Indian engagement ceremony which means I get to wear my sari again! Holla!

Peace, Love and Hydration,

Liz Ho

 

Another Awkward Week [9.12.14]

Hiii guys! What's up?! Guess where I am?! MAINE! Pretty cool stuff, huh? I posted this from my cellular phone because I am a hip millennial. I know what's up. JK I don't have a clue. But it's OK because I'm turning 30 in TWO DAYS so I don't need to worry anymore about technology and apps and twerking and any of that young people stuff. I'm officially and oldster and THANK GOD. I've been patiently awaiting the day when I could start unironically wearing holiday themed sweater sets and listening to Joni Mitchell all day and my time is almost here. BOOM. But enough about my impending old age for the moment...I have some deeper thoughts to share on that next week.

Do try not to die of anticipation in the meantime.

Ok enough jibberbabber, these lobster rolls aren't going to eat themselves. Let us all gather round, join hands and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

 

This Chocolate Fountain:

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HOLY YUM.

We went to a wedding last weekend (and are attending another tomorrow!) and they had so much amazing food, I honestly think I gained 14 lbs before the day was through. hashtag worth it. hashtag bigtime.

One of the highlights of the evening was the chocolate fountain and then another highlight was watching me try to scrub chocolate out of my dress.

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Oh did I mention the dress was borrowed?! 

Sorry, Mary! I love you!

Don't worry, I took it to get dry-cleaned.

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The cleaner was super impressed with my spillage skillz. In addition to the obvious chocolate stain, there was another lighter blob running down the front of the skirt.

"What's this?" He asked. "Water stain?"

"WATER?!" I chortled. "OH that, good sir, is wine."

You literally can not take me anywhere.

#literally

This Cup:

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Guys, I went to get an iced coffee yesterday morning and when I tried to put my straw in the lid it had no straw hole!! WHAT! So I went to the counter to ask for another lid and she exasperatedly told me those were the only lids they had.

Like I was the obnoxious moron asking for a lid with a straw hole.

Am I living in an alternate reality? Are we no longer doing straw holes? Out of trend for Fall 2014?

Help me.

This Finger:

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Good news is the knife set we received as a wedding gift is S-H-A-R-P!

Bad news is I'm a spaz and now missing a large chunk out of the top of my finger.

Oucherson.

I was rushing around to get dinner on the table because despite my protestations to the contrary last week, I do NOT know how to go with the flow and was having a light about how it was Sunday night and I needed to eat a healthy dinner and it was already 8 PM and I need to go to bed at 9 PM and there's so much to DOOO and slice: right into my fingie. It hurt so much! And bled all over the place.

Lesson learned: CHILL OUT.

JK but I'm working on it.

Also thank GAWD this happened after the wedding, seeing as how it's my ring finger. Would have looked real cute.

Some women like to draw further attention to their engagement/wedding ring fingers by adding a little gems or designs to that finger nail (I like to judge these women because come on, girls, you already have a ring...we get it) but I'm taking it a fun, sassy step further by accessorizing with a gaping wound and huge bandage.

Now THAT is what's Hot for Fall 2014.

This Shirt:

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Photo taken on a different day...same week...as the photo above. I think I need to spice up my wardrobe.

This shirt unbuttons really easily around the booble region. It's not a huge deal, it is barely noticeable and usually I catch it but apparently not always. The other  morning I came up out of the subway lugging my big bag, walked a few feet and caught the eye of a woman and thought she was smiling at me so I smiled back and then I realized she was actually silently mouthing something at me.

I focused.

"Youuurrrrr braaaaa" her mouth said, soundlessly.

I looked down and sure enough, my entire left boob was hanging out.  And I mean all of it. OUT.

The shirt had not only unbuttoned but fallen fully open and the whole thing was out there for the world to see.

Luckily the actual boob itself was still covered...but by THE most sensible nude bra imaginable so...maybe worse?

Oy yoy yoy! Happy Morning, New York.

This Hot Look:

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OH YES the laundry backpack still lives! I decided to multitask the other night by getting happy hour beers with a pal whilst simultaneously doing laundry at the laundromat across the street, which resulted in this SEXXXXYYYY look of me sipping IPA's with my laundry backpack strapped high and proud.

2 KEWL!

And that was my week! If you would like to read more about awkwardness, someone wrote a hella long, boring, overly introspective article about it for the New Yorker this week. Apparently people enjoy awkward humor because we live in a post 9-11 world and something about our parents never teaching us about sex? Or something? I don't know. I couldn't get through it. A little too intellectual for my taste but maybe you'll enjoy it?

You snob!

Just kidding. Have a fabbo weekend, my chicklets. Any fun plans?!

xoxoox 29 YEAR OLD LIZ LIVE FROM MAINE!!!

Another Awkward Week [9.5.14]

Hi guys!!! TGIF! Except I forgot it was F because of the FDW! (Four Day Week)

But now it is the weekend and we can part-ay! H!

(Hooray!)

Acronyms don't always work, do they?

Actually I kind of forgot it was Friday because I seem to have lost complete track of what day it is, where I am, what is going on. After travelling for the wedding (I just got married! NEVER FORGET!), Fire Island and Labor Day I am having a hard time getting back onto a normal routine. And life will continue to be nutty for the next few weeks. Tomorrow we're going to New Jersey for a wedding for someone else, which people tell me means I'm not the one walking down the aisle? I don't really understand what that means...I'm not the bride and center of attention? WHAT?!

I may need to be restrained.

J to the K - congratulations Kathryn & Mike! Can't wait to celebrate!

And then next weekend we're going to Maine for one day and then New Hampshire for another wedding (bitches be really committed to stealing my thunder) and thennn it is my 30th Birthday! Old lady alert. And then it is Brian's 30th Birthday the weekend after! (I'm a cougar.) So basically my life will continue to be kind of crazy for the next few weeks and I have decided I am ok with this. Normally this would stress me out, because I like clear cut routines and schedules but I am "going with the flow." That's a thing right? I am just going to be "casual" and "fun" and keep drinking too much and eating crap and not worry about the gym and do my best at work and not have a heart attack if I don't get my meal plan written out by Sunday night and (gasp!) don't know what I'm eating every meal every day and maybe even stay up past 10 PM on weeknights (!!!) and just go with the flow.

It's happening!

As a result of this, I'm not super organized for my usual recap but here are a few things that defined my week:

Marriage:

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We've been married for a mere 21 days (traditional 21 Day Anniversary gift is over sharing about your personal life on the internet) and are already fulfilling so many Married Couple cliches. Por ejemplo:

  • Last weekend we went bowling with another couple Saturday night and then Sunday...we went to Lowes.
  • Foregoing intercourse because "it's just too hot out to try."
  • Calling it "intercourse."
  • JK I always call it that, it's hilarious.
  • The other night when Brian was in one room doing his Fantasy Football draft and I was in the other room vacuuming and looking at Pinterest.
  • "Babe, I appreciate that you did the dishes and hate to be a nag, but how many times do I have to tell you, if you just stack the bowls like that they won't dry!"

We are basically the living version of Everybody Loves Raymond. HELP!

Fantasy Football: 

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Speaking of Fantasy Football! In addition to the league he was drafting for while I was wifeing it up in the other room, Brian does a league with his high school friends, which I have played in for the past few years. It's too hard to get everyone together to draft so we do an Auto Draft, which is where the computer just picks teams for you. It's not ideal but I usually finish in the top 3 so I'm all aboard.

UNTIL this year! After the draft, I went to Yahoo to check my team and saw they had a "Draft Report Card" and I'd gotten a B.

A B??? But, I'm a straight A student! What is this, 11th Grade Math? (Actually, if it was 11th Grade Math, I actually would have gotten a C minus and my teacher would have humiliated me in front of the entire classroom by telling me that maybe my younger and smarter brother should have tutored me...but that is a different story for a different day. CLEARLY not over it.)

But seriously...a B? The pain got worse. The Report Card includes notes on your draft. Mine begins: "Susan B. Anfernee was handed a solid draft position and apparently they saw that as an opportunity to blow it."

WHAT!!! Screw you, Yahoo!! I didn't blow it! YOU blew it! I didn't even draft...the computer drafted for me and now the computer is telling me that I BLEW IT?! HELL NAW.

Offensive.

I do realize that I'm yelling at a computer about a fake football team and that's a little insane but no one has been that mean to me since my 11th Grade Math Teacher!!

I might need to get over it...

Also yes my team is called Susan B. Anfernee. Because of Feminism. And Mean Girls. Duh!

Coffee:

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I really need to give up coffee because A) I'm addicted and B) it gives me a tummy ache and C) I keep spilling it all over the place.

Also do you like how I artfully styled that photo with the roses and the mess? The juxtoposition of beauty with disaster is a reflection of the mysogonistic humanitarian struggle affecting the earth and also it is about death. And sex. And my mom.

JK it's just a stupid picture.

I don't really care for art.

Annnd that's it. THAT IS IT! What are you beauties up to this weekend?

I am going to go do some work and then go to happy hour and then go to this wedding and then who even knows what, I sure don't because I'm going with the flow! I'm just a laid back cool cat taking life one day at a time, who even cares what happens and OH MY GOD where is my day planner and what's for lunch and I haven't checked weather.com in 4 minutes AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Smoochies!

Another Awkward Week [7.25.14]

OMG hi! I know, I so did not blog last week. I'm sure EVERYONE noticed and barely survived. Forgive me?

I actually started to write my usual weekly thang but it just did not happen. Typically I at least draft them (believe it or not, the drivel I post here is actually edited. Scary, right?) on Thursady nights and then just clean up a scoonch and post on Fridays but last Thursday my friend was like "want to get drinks" and I was like "duh" and then when I got home it was 10:04 aka my bedtime and I had a big day ahead travelling to Pennsylvania so I set my alarm a whole 12 minutes early for the next morning to allow myself to get about a million things done before I caught my 9:05 AM train. I did manage to pack (see below),  eat half an avocado (normal), wander around the apartment for a while and attempted to squeeze in a quick Pilates sesh which was basically just me laying on the floor flopping around until Brian came in and inquired what, exactly, I was doing down there, and I gave up. I then sat down to blog, realized I had about 12 minutes left with which to shower and get to said train soooooo I ditched the blog.

Win some, lose some. Am I right? I'm right.

We then spent the weekend in Lancaster for THE weddingiest planniest of wedding planning extravaganzas: met with the florist (aka my awesome cuz Angie), hair trial, makeup trial, met with rehearsal dinner space, toured hotel where we're all staying, met the photographer, walked through venue, menu tasting and met with our officiant (aka my mom's BFF). It was long and kind of crazy but also awesome and I'm feeling so ready for la dia grande. Emotionally, anyway. Logistically, well, we'll just have to see about that one. It's so soon! I (understandably) couldn't sleep that Saturday night, my mom came out of her bedroom at 6:30 AM and found me wide awake, wild-eyed after having already drunk a full pot of coffee, furiously typing out to-do lists.

I have a feeling I'm going to be a real treat to hang out with these next 22 (but who's counting?!?!) days.

COOL STORIES, LIZ. Let's cut to the chase and take a look at what was keeping it awkward these last two weeks.

This Suitcase:

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From last weekend pre-trip to PA. Chock-o-block full of dirty laundry because somehow it is easier/better to haul dirty clothes 300 miles to a totally different state on multiple forms of transportation than it is to go down the street to the laundromat.

This is marginally better than the time I had Brian's mom wash my undergarments...but not by much.

This Get-Up:

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I worked out over lunch the other day and then came back and found out our office was hosting some kind of bake sale so I immediately undid all my hard work in le gym with a fat pile of cake. Worth it.

Anyhoodle, while at said bake sale a colleague asked me "if I meant to tuck my shirt up into my belt like that??" which, of course not! I just don't know how to dress myself.

Additionally, upon further inspection that top shows way too much back for the workplace, gah. I need to get it together on the business cash front. Whoops.

This Bouquet:

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It was my sweet colleague's birthday over the other weekend, so I brought her a bouquet of flowers Monday morning so she'd have someting pretty to look at and celebrate all week.

I S to G they were alive when I brought them in but by Monday afternoon they were deader than Marley's Ghost.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATIE. I bought you a dead plant.

She said she extra appreciated them because dead plants was very "me" and she knew it would mean she get a blog shout-out.

So, you're welcome, Katie! Happy Birthday from me and my cool blog!

(Side note: does anyone else find "bouquet" a difficult word to remember how to spell? No? Just me?)

This Plate:

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Speaking of Katie (so many shout outs!), she hosted a fun, classy birthday party at a local restaurant to celebrate. There was free flowing hibiscus champagne and delicious food and the only thing more yummy than hibiscus champagne and delicious food is to spill your beverage all over your plate and mix 'em together. Saves time! You're getting your booze and your dinner in one tasty little package.

I was also, obviously, wearing white jeans to said dinner party and they're now in need of a serious bleaching.

That's what my mom's house is for!

Also, who do I think I am wearing white jeans? I can not handle that sort of pristine responsibility.

This Other Plate:

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Well, that food was on a plate but oh, look, it's on the floor. I was home alone the other night and made myself the yummiest dinner of baked sweet potato fries with chipotle aioli (yeah, I make my own aiolis, what of it?) and a salmon burger with avocado and then was furiously shoving it in my face and shoveled so hard that I knocked it all on the floor.

PWOMP.

Luckily I'd made 3 full potatoes worth of fries, so I could sacrifice a few and, I'll be honest, I just picked up the burger, dusted it off, and dug back in.

Gross?

Gross.

Also funny, while this happened I was reading some kind of mom blog and she remarked about cleaning up after her kids spilling food all over the place and I realized my toddlers are going to write a blog about cleaning up after me.

They're all doomed.

This Tote:

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Another day, another tote.

We took the Amtrak back to NYC last weekend and there's always a stressful moment as it pulls into the city, everyone gets up out of their seats and lines up by the exits, ready to pour out into the hellhole that is Penn Station. As we filed out my tote bag handle got stuck on the handle of the bathroom door. It was a sliding door, so as I walked forward, I pulled the door alllllll the way open behind me. I then had to hold up this whole long line of humans frantic to disembark while I untangled myself from said door.

LUCKILY there was no one inside but still, you guys. BUT STILL.

And that was my week. Weeks, plural. What is everyone up to this weekend? We're moving! Just casually moving and wedding planning and it's all going to be GREAT and omg I need a nap. I'm super stoked about our sweet new pad (I'm a skater tween from the 90's now, did I tell you that?) and I know it'll be pretty easy and not that big of a deal but whoo boy, will I be glad when this move is behind us. Just get me to Sunday, Dear Lord Beyonce. I believe in you.

Happy Weekend, beautiful swans. I will do my best to write next week but someone forgot to call Time Warner about setting up internet in the new apartment so I can't make any promises. Lest you think we're not even married yet and I'm already throwing huffy wife shade, don't worry, that someone is totes, obvi, no duh me.

WEEKEND!

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [7.11.14]

Hi guys!!! How was everyone's week? Mine felt like, interminable, but now I'm looking back and wondering how exactly I passed all that endless time because I feel like nothing got done! Hmm. Giving thought it seems I mostly ate cherries, looked at at vintage wedding bands on Etsy (NO we don't have our rings yet, don't worry about it) (Also: anyone giving away any free estate jewelry? ), power binged through the entire final season of Game of Thrones (TYRION!), worked out a ton (yay!) (shredding for the wedding!) and listened to a disturbing amount of Jason Derulo.

Guys...he's really good. I mean, yes his songs are like, sexist and raunchy and horrible and about butts and stuff but...I love butts! And bad pop music. So, yeah. No shame in my game.

#WiggleWiggleWiggle

Also: terrible segue, but powering through. A quick note related to my wedding rambles from earlier this week. Wedding Paper Divas, my favorite online paper goods supplier is once again offering a Gilt Group coupon and it is SO good! This is how poor people who have mixed emotions about paper products can afford nice paper products! Score to the maximum. So if you're planning any sort of soiree in the near future for which you'll need invitations or thank you notes or any of that good jazz...hop to!

(As always when I talk about things I buy, they in no way are paying me to endorse them! I'm not that famous. I just really like this website. But if you are from Wedding Paper Divas and are reading this and want to give me money or products, I'm all aboard.)

Oook. Cut to the chase, Liz. Let's all clasp hands, wiggle our big fat butts and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Display:

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This is less of an anecdote, more of an observation.

This week was my sista's birthday (HBD Margie!) so I popped over to the drugstore to pick up a card. When I got there, a man was standing in the card asile right in front of the birthday section, carefully reading through every card looking for the perfect one.

Which, of course! Is how one should shop for birthday cards and bully on him for getting there first but HOW painfully awkward is it when you need to do something very specific and someone is in your way and you have to just linger around. Like, when you get to the office microwave seconds after someone has put in their Lean Cuisine for one minute and forty-five seconds. What do you do for the one minute and forty-five seconds? Stand there and stare at them? Make small talk? Go all the way back to your office and risk a) losing the microwave to someone else and b) returning to find yourself in the exact same situation? Pretend you came to the kitchen for a whole other reason?

Starve to death?

Or when you go to buy your sister a birthday card and this cute old man is taking his sweet fucking time reading EVERY SINGLE CARD ever made oh my god, dude, just pick a card and get on with your life we don't have all day here, what do you do? Stand really close behind him and hope he gets the hint? Ask him politely to get out of the way? Go stand in the nail polish aisle for a while, keeping one eye on the card section and then sprint over the second the man is done?

Gently say "excuse me, sir" and share the card rack?

Probably that one, on retrospect, but still! Awkward.

Life is SO HARD sometimes guys.

This Gift:

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Last night we went out to dinner with Brian's college friend and his wife who just moved up to Brooklyn. They were married September 7, 2013 and we missed the wedding.

We just gave them their gift...last night...July 10, 2014...wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper.

We are the WORST people on earth. Honestly we deserve to get zero gifts at our wedding.

Although! I would like to point out that though we did not give a single gift on time in 2013 (also, this one was totally Brian's to send so...blame the man!), we are 4 for 4 with timely wedding gift giving in 2014! I've even sent gifts to showers I couldn't attend. So, we're getting there.

Still close to the worst, though.

(Michelle, Carlo, if you're reading this, I still have your wedding gift sitting here in my office. I can see it now! I promise to mail it to you before your first anniversary...so like, any day now.)

Related: never do I feel like such an "adult" as when doing things with other couples. Recently we went to dinner at another couple's apartment. We brought a bottle of wine and homemade potato salad and I was just like, this is what grownups do. Holy shit, we are grownups.

And mostly I love it! It's fun! But also, you know.

Holy shit!

We're grownups!

This Spill:

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I k now what you're thinking

A) Brian is so hot, I'm jealous Liz gets to marry him.

B) finally! Brian is the one spilling water on himself, it's not just Liz out there humiliating herself.

Well you are wrong, friends. At least on the second part. You're dead right on the first. He's a smokin' hot babe and back off. The boy is mine. But if you actually think Brian caused a scene in public all by himself without a small (huge) assist from his intended, you are incorrect.

Last weekend we were out and about shopping for wedding rings, which we obviously did not yet buy -- holy cheese we need to get it together and fast. I was drinking a San Pellegrino* on the subway into Manhattan and sat it down on the seat beside me, totally reckless like. Brian picked it up and made a comment on how I'm always "playing it fast and loose with my beverages."

True story - I'm always just like, sitting cups on the arms of chairs or haphazardly tilting them all over the place and then wondering why I am covered in liquids.

Well, if Chekhov and his gun have proved anything it is that if someone calls you out on your "fast and loose" beverage lifestyle, you will end up spilling by the end of the day.

Later that afternoon we were riding the escalator back down into the subway station at Grand Central. I was thirsty, having just spent a few hours wandering in the hot sun, so I bought a bottle of H2O from the Hudson News. I was ahead of Brian on the escalator, we were chatting away and I guess I dropped the bottle of water? Or something? It all happened so fast I don't remember how it went down, but all I know is I somehow ended up very quickly "catching" the bottle between my elbow and my torso, effectively squeezing a big fountain stream of water all over...Brian.

HAHAHAH! I had some on my sandal but otherwise was dry as a bone and poor, handsome, sexy, studly (sorry, got carried away there), Brian was drenched.

I will say I'm glad it was someone I know and not a stranger but I will also say that I sometimes feel bad for BriGuy. He really landed a weird one and now he's stuck with me forever.

MWA HA HA HA HA.

*I mention what I was drinking because am I the only one who falls for those fancy sodas with their fancy tinfoil lids every.single.time. I can't see one in a store without wanting to buy it. DAMN YOU and your clever packaging, San Pellegrino!

Okey, that's about enough for now. I must get to workity before I inevitably fall back into the seductive distraction that is Wedding Planning. SO MANY THINGS TO GOOGLE!!

What's everyone up to this weekend? I just realized it's 7/11 which means that 7-11 is giving away FREE SLURPEES!!!

[races out of the office for a slurpee at 9:01 in the AM]

HAPPY WEEKEND KIDDIES!

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [7.3.14]

Hey GUYS! Remember me? No? Didn’t think so. It’s been what, like, years? Decades? Oh, a week and a half? Well it feels like decades. The stress of trying to plan a wedding + find an apartment + move into said apartment + at least appear productive at work + pop zyrtec like it's candy because my sinuses are not on board this summer + finish the first 4 seasons of Game of Thrones (3 down!) (RIP so very many people) + watch ALL the soccer + take so many cold showers after watching ALL the soccer because HOT DIGGITY DAYUMN all these men in shorts + play with my new blender + eat, drink, sleep and, you know, stay alive has really caught up with me and, much as I love you all (and the attention you give me, letz be honest here), writing has fallen onto the back burner.

The way, way back burner.

Which bums me out but c’est le vie, my friends. C’est le motherflipping vie.

Are you curious what else has been going on in my life, besides the above? No? Whelp, we all know I’ll probably tell you anyway. Let us all join hands and take a look what was keeping it awkward this past decade week and a half.

This Travel Mug:

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My BFF Mo generously gifted us with a Ninja blender for my bridal shower, complete with two travel mugs and this cool attachment function that lets you make your smoothies right there IN YOUR MUG. It's miraculous. My old blender could barely chop. If I wanted to make a smoothie with frozen fruit, which I do, every single day, I would have to defrost the fruit in the microwave first and even then the blender would only get half of it, leaving me with warm smoothies with chunks of thawed, mushy fruit floating around. No bueno.

So to say this new toy is life changing is an understatement. My smoothie game has been revolutionized!

There is one downside which is sort of an upside in disguise, which is that the travel mugs twist on SO tight. And stay on SO tight. How tight? Neither I nor three of my colleagues could twist off the other day when I wanted to rinse it out. I tried to clean it with the lid still on by pouring in some warm water through the drink hole and swishing it around and pouring it back out again but that did NOT work and then all day I was left with this mess which, let's be honest, looks like a travel mug full of diarrhea.

Yum!

Did I ruin your appetite? I kind of ruined mine...

PS: Is it considered bad form to use your wedding shower presents before your wedding? If yes our form is bad to the bone, because we have been going nuts with all of our new kitchen gadgets. Whoops?

This Noodle:

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This past weekend was my bachelorette party - I demanded a whole weekend long party, I am such a 'zilla. My gals rented a lake house in the Poconos and it was just the best. THE BEST. THE BEST!!!!! I have never felt so loved and special and also just so relaxed and so very, very full of food. Essentially we partied like it was 1999 (aka 8th grade) but this time with booze. And an inflatable penis. Disney singalong? Check. Cotton Eye Joe? Check.  Getting weepy while talking about Dawson's Creek? Check. 5 gallon tub of cheese balls? Check aaaaannnnd check.

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We also swam in a pool, fended off a raccoon attack (mild exaggeration), played with sparklers, played "Pin the Hose on the Firefighter," invented some kind of group Wawa chant, played dozens of rounds of Heads Up, created a new sex move inspired by "Free Willy" (yes, this Free Willy) called the "Whale Tail," (we'll tell you all about when you're older), polished off copious amounts of Firefly vodka, Bud Lights and champagne (including one really fancypants bottle gifted by a friend who couldn't be there (hi Ash!) which I drank through a straw because I'm classy like dat) and each of us ate a full years worth of calories in one night in the form of chips, dips, buffalo wings, cheese, cheese balls, cupcakes, cookies, brownies, macaroni salad, potato salad, hot dogs roasted over an open flame while completely hammered at 3 AM (an ill advised idea if I've ever heard one) and late night Kraft macaroni and cheese.

When I went up to bed I took of my pants and found a mac-n-cheese noodle in my underpants.

HA! How did it even get there? I was wearing leggings! Maybe the stripper put it there?!?! With his teeth!

JK there was no stripper.

Suffice it to say, it was the best weekend of my whole life. But how the H-E-Double Macaroni Noodles did that thing get in my pants?

A mystery for the ages!

This Nectarine:

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Somehow we did not eat all of the food we brought that weekend, despite our very best efforts, so all of us brought snax and things home with us. I got dropped off on the Upper East Side and then took the subway back to Brooklyn carrying my suitcase, my ever-present tote bag, a basket of gifts and goodies from one of my girlfriends (Hi, Leah!!! I love you!!) and a big shopping bag full of leftover chips, one avocado and two nectarines. Quite the mix.

I managed to make it all the way to my stop without incident but then when trying to stand up and disembark my grocery bag tumbled over and started to spill all over the place. There was NO TIME to waste so I just grabbed what I could and ran off the train. I saw a nectarine rolling down the car and a woman yelled after me "ma'am! your groceries!"  But there was no turning back. This is not Saving Private Ryan.

RIP, that nectarine. I'll miss you.

I thought both nectarines were goners until Tuesday when I unpacked the chips for a little World Cup party at the office and found a smashed nectarine in the bottom of my bag, just rotting away.

So he may have survived the subway but his life was no better. Sorry, nectarines. I tried.

Sorry also, USMT. Tough loss out there. You did GREAT and I would still do filthy things (like the Whale Tail!) with each and every one of you, so thanks for inspiring our country and the libidos of millions of weird women. Or at least just this one. LOVE YOU TIM HOWARD.

This Traffic Cone:

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I was walking to work the other morning wearing this pretty maxi dress (last seen covered in coffee at Brian's sister's graduation) (from Old Navy, OBVZ). The dress is sort of faux-wrap style in that it doesn't tie, but the skirt is fully slit up the middle so when the wind blows it blows right on open, giving all of NYC a real show.

I came up with a trick of positioning my cross-body bag right in front of my goodies when I'm walking and wearing this so that it blows open but only up to a certain point and all the necessary stuff is still covered up.

I did not come up for a trick for when you're walking by a turned over traffic cone sitting on the sidewalk and the bottom of your long skirt gets caught on it and you get stuck and a fellow commuter has to help you untangle yourself because you're holding up morning rush-hour traffic.

So...that happened.

This Leftover Snack:

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Y'all know I love buffalo wings and blue cheese. So much, in fact, that sometimes I like to spill blue cheese dressing directly into my pocket.

You know, so I can save a little treat for later.

Couldn't be classier if I tried.

And, that, beautiful people, is what's been up! How have YOU been? Any big plans for the holiday weekend, Americans? The weather is supposed to be a butthead and rain all day in NY so I don't know what I'll get up to. Maybe write our wedding ceremony or get our wedding bands? You know, those minor yet crucial details that we should probbbably get on top of? Or we could clean and pack our apartment? Sell our old stuff? Stop spending so much money?!?!

Ohhh boy. Welcome back, stress. It was a nice 10 minutes not thinking about you. The next 6 weeks are going to be cray to the cray but I'm excited. Bring it on, life.

Happy weekend to you all and Happy Birthday, America!!! I love you. Thank you for being the home of the free and land of the brave and I just realized I mixed those two up but I ain't going back to fix it.

Baby you're a firework,

Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [6.20.14]

Guyyys, hi! I did NOT make good on my promise for wedding updates this week, now did I? I hope no one actually died of anticipation.  I don’t know if I could handle the guilt. Now, I know you’re all just aching to hear about the fight I had with my mom about addressing the invitations (I’d make Emily Post turn over in her fancy little grave) and my bridal shower (spoiler alert: it was awesome!) and the long, overly poignant 700 paragraph essay I keep drafting about the complexities and anxieties related to composing the guest list. And I am aching to share these stories, too! What do I love more than talking about myself? NOTHING, that’s what. But sometimes you can’t do what you love and instead you have to work and go to physical therapy and clean your house and do laundry and sleep and be responsible and ugh, being a grown-up is the WORST!

But just stay tuned, ok? I’ll get around to it. I must!

Meanwhile, was my week all work, no play and no weird moments? Of course not! Let’s take a look at what was keeping it awkward this busy week:

This Beverage:

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On Tuesday night I went to a work event and they had a few bottles of wine and a few bottles of seltzer (and cheese!!) for guests to imbibe upon so I decided to get my Real Housewife on and make a little white wine spritzer.

Turns out the seltzer was the flavored kind.

And turns out you can ruin pinot grigo by adding a few splashes of lemon-lime seltzer water.

I mean…I drank it but still, woof.

And while we're on the topic of vino (am I ever not on the topic of vino?)...

This Bottle of Wine:

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Last night I went running for the first time in weeks, after taking some time off to nurse my broken butt cheek and it was SO great. I missed running and breaking a sweat. Pitbull has a new (ish?) song out called Wild Love and as with all things Pitbull it is equal parts ridiculous and amazing and I listened to it four times in a row. HAH. Pitbull is my spirit guide.

ANYWAY, I brought along some cash and my ID in this little runners' fanny pack of Brian's so I could stop at the wine store on my way home and grab a bottle for the weekend. My mom is in town, so I figured we'd need the double bottle, or as I like to call it "family sized."

The wine store in my neighborhood is this tiny little yuppie place that sells all kinds of fancy stuff but I always buy right off their "discount table" because, duh.

On this particular evening, they were hosting a tasting at the front of the store, so a group was gathered around a tiny table sipping and talking about tannins and soil and whatever the fuck else fancy wine people talk about and I barged in DRENCHED in sweat and made a beeline right for the bargain table, grabbed the family sized bottle of sauvignon blanc and plonked it down on the counter. As the snooty cashier run it up, I began digging crumpled dollar bills out of my fanny pack. The total came to $19 which is like, $12 more than I prefer to spend on wine, but they're the only game in town, so you gotta do what you gotta do. Unfortunately I realized I only had $17 on me so I got all frazzled, as I do, and blurted out "I don't have enough cash! I need another one. A different wine. Cancel the order. Cancel the order!" I grabbed the big bottle, raced back to the dicsount table, picked up my go-to regular sized, screw-top sauvy b (still priced at a cool $12...come on, store, would it kill you to stock some Barefoot brand?) and sprinted back up to the register.

At this point I caught myself in the mirror behind the check out. I was straight up glistening with sweat, wearing a fanny pack and waving around a handful of crumpled one-dollar bills.

Did I mention I only had ones on me? I don't know why I had such a big stack of Washingtons.

This guy must have thought I was some kind of frantic, crazed, wino stripper or something. Sprinting in and out of the store, grabbing bottles, throwing around one dollar bills.

I'd say I can never show my face in there again but let's all be real, I'll be back within the week. Ok, weekend.

This Wound:

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Technically this happened last week but who’s counting? No one. Great. My friend reminded me of this story THIS week so it still counts. Hi Ami! Thanks for the reminder!

ANYWAY recently I was at a 30th Birthday Party (June is 30th Bday Party Month round these parts – we have one every weekend!) at Brian’s friend’s gorgeous apartment in midtown. This guy lives in like, a TV apartment – it has a BALCONY. A private balcony! What the actual what.

(To all y’all who don’t live in horrible cities are like, I have 17 wrap-around porches, why are you so excited about a balcony? I know. Just…don’t go there.)

The door from the living room to the balcony was super heavy and hard to open. It felt like when you’re trying to push a door against a heavy gale of wind, but the night was perfectly still. It was VERY difficult!

I was NOT the only person to have trouble opening the door but WAS the only person to somehow get their finger caught in said door and end up gushing blood all over the place.

You 4 real can not take me anywhere.

This Flyer:

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The corner around my office is like a wind tunnel, always blustery and blowy and ten degrees colder than the rest of the city. It is weird and the WORST.

The other morning I was walking the one block from the subway to the office and a gust of wind blew this flyer up and it got stuck on my leg and the wind just kept it there for the whole block!

HAHA this is a horrible story but oh my god, guys, I can’t even tell you how much this made me laugh. I was like peeing myself laughing, walking along the street with this paper stuck to my leg, sporadically stopping to take photos for my blergh.

Even the local homeless man who stands on the corner every day and asks for money so he can take a taxi back to his costume shop on Broadway (aww, it’s sad I know) thought I was a loony tune.

This Drawer:

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Oh, and this one too:

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I’ve now shown you the grotesque hoarder nightmare zones under my desk and inside my purse. Today I bring you: my desk drawers.

If you read any Real Simple magazines, and I read them all, one tip they’re constantly sharing on organization is to avoid drawers. Drawers are the worst. You can just toss all your crap in there, slam ‘em shut and never think about it again.

I am SO guilty of doing this, to the point that yesterday I wanted to put some paperwork in a drawer, thought “oh there’s too much garbage in there” and then THREW the paperwork out instead of trying to file it.

I then realized maybe I could clean out my garbage drawers so I would have room for actually important things. And so I did.

Here are just a few of the tippy top highlights of what I discovered:

  • A Christmas card for my friend and her husband, dated Christmas 2012 (Merry Christmas 2012, Liz and Bobby!)
  • A cutout from Marie Claire Magazine entitled Sex in a Blanket, tips for having sex while wearing a snuggie. I kept this.
  • And a cutout from Glamour with tips about how do do a workout while laying on your couch. I kept this too. Apparently I am the laziest mf-er known to man.  
  • About five dozen photos of myself from various points in my youth. What do you think it says if a person keeps drawers full of photographs of themselves? Don’t tell me. (PS. see below for an especially choice image of a young Liz Ho.)
  • Two Christmas tree ornaments
  • Program to Brian’s school’s 2012 production of Clue
  • A Tiffany pen, my gift upon reaching five years of employment. Per the internet, this pen is valued at $125 or more. It has never been used. It is also the only item I own from Tiffany and Co. WHAT THE HELL, BRIAN! BUY ME SOME DIAMONDS.
  • Two vials of store brand bug bite cream
  • One button
  • One box of sparklers, a gift from the resident office crazy to thank me for giving her a book
  • Saline spray
  • A blonde wig worn for Halloween when I went as, that’s right, Taylor Swift. I’m the worst.
  • One box of old conversation hearts
  • One Half eaten box of Girl Scout cookies. I can’t believe I never ate these! I don’t even remember when I put them in there?! Disgusting? YES.
  • One package of bamboo skewers… you know, for all the grilling I do in the office.
  • One pair of hideous sensible black wedges I bought my first winter on the job (that’d be winter of 2007) in an attempt to dress more mature and professional. I think I wore them twice?  
  • The folder from the first campaign I ever did solo. No paperwork inside, just a manila folder with the author’s name written on the outside. AWWW! I guess I was feeling sentimental? 

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, pals. I filled up my office trash can lickety split and had to go get an empty cardboard box out of the supply room, fill THAT up with garbage and bring it down to the big communal trash can in the copy room, where I then covered all of my discarded belongings with a layer of paper because I didn’t want everyone to know how grotesque I am.

I did not pitch everything, so if anyone would like a blonde wig or an expensive silver pen or a box of sparklers, just let me know, I’m sure we can work out a fair deal.

And that, my friends, was my week. How was yours?! What’s everyone up to this weekend?! As I mentioned above, my Schmoopster is comin’ to town! We are going to shop for a dress for her to wear for my wedding. I am so excited. I want her to feel like the beautiful special goddess she is! Love that lady.

On that note, I will leave you here to stare at this beautiful photo found in my desk drawer, of Liz Ho at her 5th Grade Field Day. It's hard to pick a favorite thing about this photo. My height? The Seattle Mariners cap hooked to the belt loop of my Bermuda length mom jorts? The pose? The Jon Lennon sunglasses?!?!

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It always shocks me I never had a career as a child model.

Happy weekend, buddies. And Happy First Day of Summer - it's finally here!!

xoox Liz

Another Awkward Week [6.13.14]

Goodness if I haven’t been the worst blogger in all the land lately. I’ve barely had time to read blogs (save a few of my fave housewives, obvi) much less write one. I’ve felt crazed with work and travel and visitors and I’ve been dealing with this debilitating butt injury (don’t ask) (obviously I’ll tell you all about in just a few moments)  and life is just whooshing on by. Whoosh, whoosh!

Before we know it, it’ll whoosh right on up to August 16 and holy cats, y’all, we have a LOT to do before then. By “then” I mean our wedding in case you for some strange reason don’t think exclusively about my life and the important dates therein. I will update you on many, many wedding things next week, try not to die of excitement before then but for now, the usual nonsense.

A look at what was keeping it awkward this week. Two weeks. Three? Oy!

 

These Paper Boobs:

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I ordered a bunch of brassieres from Gap Body this week and they came stuffed with paper - I guess to help them keep their shape? For some reason these paper boobs made me laugh and laugh and laugh so I lined them up on the floor where they just look like balls of white paper because um, that’s what they are.

Actually they look like biscuits. Now I want biscuits!

Isn't biscuit a hard word to spell? I always want to put a "q" in there.

Which, side note to the sidenote, through working at Penguin I have come to learn just how many people think that Penguin is spelled with a "Q." A LOT of people. GUYS no, just no. There is not a Q in Penguin, are you kidding me?

Biscuit, on the other hand. There is probably a Q in there.

Oh. My. God. Liz. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.

Point of this horrible story: my assistant Margaret came in and caught me taking this photo and was like WHAT are you doing and I was like “photographing these paper boobs, obviously” and she just backed slowly out of my office and down the hall and sprinted out the door.

JK she has yet to run screaming from this office but I would NOT blame her if/when she does. She always catches me doing the weirdest stuff. Licking tupperware. Paper boobs!

Ugh.

BISQUITSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

These Sandals:

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Cute, sure. Cuter still when you learn they are Bass, ordered after I ran an extensive Google search for “sandals with proper arch support.”

29 going on 89, y’all.

This Bootay:

It’s mine!

J to the K it is very clearly Beyonce’s but mine pretty much looks the same in the fact that we both have butts but the similarities pretty much end there.

Anyhoodle, as I mentioned earlier, my booty is currently on the disabled list. But srsly, though. I guess all this running took a toll on my body, for the weeks after my half marathon I started having increasing pain in my left hip and glute, especially when sitting for long periods of time or upon first standing up. After attempting a zillion weird home cures and diagnosing myself with fatal diseases like I never don’t, I finally got myself to a physical therapist who concluded that I had a tight IT band and a strained piriformis muscle.

The piriformis is this weird little muscle that goes from your butt around your hip and is supremely hard to stretch so now I go in to physical therapy twice a week for what basically amounts to 30 minute nonsexual butt massages.

It is awesome. I am not even remotely joking. I’ve never had a back or shoulder massage, I have a sad life I guess, so this is my first taste of the massage world and I am LOVING it. It is the best part of my week! I mean I feel a little strange just laying there, booty up, getting a rub down and I’m always worried I’ll fart in the PT’s face but so far, so good!

My hip is starting to feel better, but I might have to pretend to still be in pain...I’m like, legit addicted to butt rubs.

This Straw:

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Actually it was another straw but I forgot to take a photo of it so this is a substitute straw.

Just don’t worry about it.

So last weekend my cousin Angie was in town and it was the best! Angie is the coolest - she is an art teacher and one of her students won a prestigious national Scholastic Gold Key Award so she was in NYC for the awards ceremony at Carnegie Hall. So amazing, right?

Right!

At one point during the weekend we were sitting around at the bar, just casually hanging out, not even remotely drunk (that came later when, while Angie attended the awards ceremony, her boyfriend Jeremy, Brian and I proceeded to ring up a $200 beer and french fry tab, yikes) and I picked up my glass of water to take a drink straight from the glass, forgetting there was a straw in the glass and as I turned the cup towards my mouth, the straw poked me on the underside of my nostril just CENTIMETERS away from going straight up into my nose, impaling my brain and killing me.

I almost died and Angie just laughted and laughed and laughed and said she thought sometimes I made up my blog stories but she now saw first hand I’m actually that hot of a mess.

Can’t make this up, kids.

PS I ALMOST DIED!!!

(PSS Not really.)

PSSS now I want a bloody with my biscuits. LET'T ALL GO OUT TO BRUNCH!!!!!!!!!

Ok still the worst blogger, even when writing! None of these stories are funny to anyone but me and even I"m like eeeehhhhh? Eh. My brain is mushier than my muscles which are surely atrophying now that I am a sedentary blob with a broken butt cheek.

I'll be back next week with WEDDING UPDATEZ and good stories I swickity-swear.

Have a great weekend! Call your dad on Sunday!

xoxoox Liz Ho

Another Awkward (slash Awesome!) Week [5.30.14]

Good morning, pals! I am all thrown off with this short week - I almost forgot it's Friday. But oh, it is. T to the G-I-F, dudes. This week the coolest thing ever in the whole wide WORLD happened: I wrote something that was published on a national website. VOGUE.COM. AAAAHHH!!! This is a double-brag if you're my friend on Facebook so forgive me - I'm just a scoonch excited. If you've not yet read it and would like to, I'd be honored! You can click-click-click away riiiight HERE.

Long story short, I was semi-tipsily chatting with an editor I know at a work party a little while back and we got to chatting about Facebook and relationships and how and why and when we use social media to share and define said relationships. As we parted for the evening, she asked if I'd write something for her on the subject, for Vogue.com. Outwardly I said "sure!" and inwardly I said "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and she put me in touch with her editor, we talked details, I tried to pretend I knew what I was talking about and like, did this all the time and Vogue.com? Not even a big deal, has anyone even heard of Vogue?, and she gave me a deadline of ONE WEEK and then I frantically drafted and worried and thought and wrote and flopped around a lot like "this is a disaster! My one shot in life and I'm about to blow it and be a failure forever!!!!"

Dramatic much?

I finally came up with a draft I liked (thanks to Claire, Brian & Maggie, my reader/editors) and oh-so-casually cooly submitted it. They liked it! Sent over some edits! Annnnd: posted to the web.

The piece mildly complains about how we share everythinggg on the Facebook, so naturally I immediately shared it on the Facebook. HAH! I was prepared for some thumbs-ups from my mom and besties but Oh. Em. Gee I was not prepared for how freaking nice everyone else would be! Friends were sharing, commenting, liking, emailing, all with praise and encouragement. I got some super sweet notes from friends I haven't talked to in years. My brother tweeted it.

And at work! I am shy to share any writing at work because I don't know why. I guess because I always write about myself and I don't want them to know what a psycho I am? Well apparently they all totally know and love me anyway. Our marketing manager tweeted the link via the department official twitter, work friends shared from theirs and sweetest ever some of my beautiful, genius designer friends put together THE cutest and funniest email, which they then sent department wide in the same style we send our publicity emails:

LIZ

File me away with Junot Diaz and Anne Lamott! It's all happening!

I was genuinely, no joke, bowled away with a combination of emotions that is difficult to put into words and is really best summed up by this: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I felt like Sally Field at The Oscars + like, Brandy Chastain at the 1999 World Cup + Marie Curie when she discovered radium + every nerd in a high school movie who then gets elected prom queen. I've been published! And everyone LIKED it!

What. A. Day.

This also lights a little fire under my bottom. I love writing (obviously) and would like to try for more opportunities like this. I've now eradicated fears that no editors would like my style or that readers will hate it, effectively just leaving laziness as my final hurdle. A hurdle I need to smush to smithereens ASAP.

So SERIOUS thanks dudes, I promise I'll remember you all when I am famous!!!!!

And lest you worry I'm already changing, don't you fear: I'm still keeping it WAY too real on the daily. So why don't we take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

 

This Face/Hair:

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Sunday, while I was home  in Pennsylvania, I arranged a hair and makeup trial for the wedding. Now, hair/makeup trial, you ask? I know. The part of me who thinks weddings are ridiculous is like "come on, ladies, do you really need a test run, it's just one day" but then the other (louder) part of me who is vain and girlie and wants to look beautiful on that one day is like "DUH."  I'm tryyyyying to do it on the slightly cheap, so was put in touch with a former student of my cousin who is a cosmetologist and I am very glad we set up this little trail because she, unfortunately, was not the right match for me.

I'm not going to throw a ton of shade on this girl - she's young and incredibly sweet and learning as she goes along.

We had confirmed for her to come to my mom's house at noon. By 12:15 she wasn't there and I just KNEW she forgot. I knew it. I'd emailed her to confirm and she didn't respond and I just instantly got the sense that she forgot and I could tell right then that she wasn't going to be the right person. I just sensed it. Deep in my hair follicles. Bones predict other stuff but when it comes to sensing beauty disasters: the hair knows.

I should have just put a stop to it right then and there and told her not to come, but I wanted to give her a chance, the benefit of the doubt, so texted her to remind her and she arrived an hour later. Right from the start we were not communicating well and I could tell she just didn't grasp what I wanted her to do. My mom, sister and friend (wife!) Maureen sat watching as we made small talk and I internally freaked out.

NOT because my hair looked bad, I'll figure out a plan B, but because now I had a person in my house with whom I as going to have to have an awwkward conversation. Thsi sweet girl seemed to think things were going OK and I didn't know how to tell her, to her little face, that she was super not getting hired on our wedding day. I just wanted her to leave! But I didn't know what to say! I am SO BAD at these kinds of conversations. I just want to be nice and funny all the time, forever, and avoid all confrontation.

After she did my hair, she was set to do my make-up and again, I should have told her right then and there that we were done for the day/life, kthxbye, but I didn't have the heart and maybe she was really great at make-up! But first I went and hid in my mom's room, right off the living room where we were doing the trial, to ask Schmoopster for advice. I didn't want her to know I was talking about her so I pretended I had to go to the bathroom - I even flushed the toilet for emphasis. I then, of course, actually had to go to the bathroom but couldn't because I already lied to her and told her I just did that and I didn't want this hair-stylist girl to think I had some kind of like, raging bladder infection, so I just sat there, clenching my legs, rushing through a make-up trial and praying for the day to end.

It did, I awkwardly told her I'd be in touch and did, eventually, let her down over email.

I don't know if I did the right thing - should I have told her to her face? Cancelled on her when she was late?! AAAAH I hate interacting with human beings sometimes. I need an assistant to do all my dirty work for me. Except then I might sometimes have to yell at the assistant and I wouldn't be able to do that so I'd have to hire another assistant do to that and then on and on until I just had one million assistants yelling at each other while I hid in my mom's room pretending to go to the bathroom.

Oy.

This Cheese:

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On the train home to NYC later that night I realized I was STARVING and didn't pack a snack. I did, however, have some blocks of cheese that my mom sent up with me so OH YES I grabbed me a hunk o' swiss and straight up gnawed on it like a mother flipping rat.

Pro-tip for getting your own seat on public transportation: see above!

This Ticket:

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The cheese was not cutting it, sadly, so I practically lept with glee when I realized we had a brief stop-over in Philaelphia, enough time to run upstairs to the train station and grab some real food before we continued no our trip. I asked a nice young man sitting across the aisle from me to watch my suitcase (direct quote: "you're wearing a suit and look trustworthy, would you watch my bag , I'm starving?") (His internal monologue was probably like "DEAR GOD why is the cheese lady speaking to me?!") and sprinted to the Au Bon Pan, where I quickly grabbed a pre-made Ceasar Salad, which is weirdly my go-to snack in stressful travel situations (why?!) and a Kind Bar which is one of those horrible monster snacks taht pretends to be healthy but is really like 450% chocolate.

I realized I'd have to re-show my ticket before boarding the train again and a horror washed over me: I had used my ticket as a recepticle for old chewing gum earlier in the trip. I pulled out the ticket an sure enough, there was a blob of gum RIGHT over the barcode they'd need to scan for reentry.

Kill. Me. Now.

I took my usual approach when faced with a tricky situation which is to over-explain in a wildly flustered manner until whoever I am dealing with just tells me to go away.

To the woman checking tickets: "Hi! Oh my gosh, OK I was on the train, coming from Elizabethtown and I got off to get a snack? The conductor said it was OK? I was starving! And I am SO embarrassed but I spit gum into my ticket...here...OH MY GOD I know so gross, I'm so sorry, can I just get back on I swear I'm coming from Elizabethtown."

All this complete with some wild gesticulating and a positively insane smile  on my face.

Cha-ching, she let me through.

LADIES: it might not be considered Leaning In but I fully support the power of occasionally playing dumb.

This Bike Tire:

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Flatter than your mother's chest, Trebek.

Unfortunately I didn't realize that until I had hauled this 567 pound beast down the stairs and ridden it a full mile to the park, the hardest bike ride of my life. You guys know I've had plenty of shenanigans with this bike but this one took the cake. It was so slow, hard to pedal and making loud clanging noises, but I just assumed it was my old bike being old. I was mortified: here I am running half marathons, in the best shape of my life, and I can't ride my bike half a block without getting winded?

I pushed and pushed and pushed and finally I made it to the park where a kindly (ish) stranger yelled out "YOU HAVE A FLAT!" in a hard to distinguish Eastern European accent and I yelled back "WHO ME?!" and almost crashed my bike and then looked down and yes, sir, I did have a flat and probably caused a huge scene all the way up to the park and OY YOY YOY.

And that, beautiful butterflies, was my week! WHAT A WEEK!!! I'm still riding so high on the Vogue thang, both pride for myself and flat out amazement and joy over all the enthusiasm and encouragement from my peeps. I am metaphorically doing that move where you jump up in the air and gleefully click your heels together.

YAY!

Have the BEST weekend, y'all!

xoxoxoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [5.23.14]

Hey buddies! What's up? It's a long weekend, whoop whoop! Well, in America, anyway. Sorry foreigners. Sucks to be you! I'm heading down to Pennsylvania for the weekend,  tomorrow I'm having a bridal shower (for ME!), hosted by my sweet Aunt Lena & cousin Lisa.  I'm so excited! And I'm excited that I'm excited which sounds nuts, but well, that's me. For a while I was being kind of a weirdo about the whole thing - I thought everyone would think I was being really demanding and obnoxious, asking them to drive all the way to PA, when they already have to travel for the wedding, and would I look like I was just trying to get more presents. For someone who purports to LOVE being the center of attention, I'm sort of freaking out now that my moment in the spotlight has finally arrived!

Luckily I have some smart friends and family who reminded me that I am a lunatic and I might need to calm down. That it is OK and not annoying  to be excited about my wedding. That people are travelling not because I'm making them, but because they want to, because they love me, and love Brian and are happy to celebrate our impending union. It's going to be such a lovely day with the most special ladies in my life and I'm already feeling very honored and loved.

And EXCITED. So excited that I've already said that word seventy-five times in just these four paragraphs! Get a thesaurus, Liz.

Fun fact: I have a really hard time saying that word, thesaurus. I always say suh-tharus, instead of the-saur-us. Ha! A few years ago I worked on a book about Roget, the guy who invented the thesaurus and the word was right in the title and every time I had to say it out loud I would get really nervous about messing up and inevitably mess up even worse and it was just horrifying. HORRIFYING! I totally forgot about that until just this moment and now I'm reflexively cringing, so embarrassed for my past self. GAH young Liz. It does NOT get better.

Ok enough rambling about bridal showers and thesarusues (thesauri?) and insanity. Let's take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

 

This Dress:

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Worn to Brian's sister's graduation on Sunday and COVERED in coffee.

We drove from NJ to PA early on Sunday morning and packed bagels and to-go coffees with sturdy, closeable lids for the ride.Brian's mom realized just moments after we pulled from the driveway that she had forgotten the roll of paper towels she meant to toss in, just in case anyone spilled.

"No worries!" chirped the grownup adult woman from her perch in the backseat. "We'll be fine!"

I was pretty good for most of the way until just a few miles from the campus, when I precariously propped my coffee mug in my lap without fully closing the lid.

Suddenly, Brian called out from beside me: "Liz! Your mug is tipping!" So I did what any rational person would do when a hot cup of liquid is spilling over on their thighs which is to flail my legs even more causing the spill to go from a minor drip to a full on drenching.

REALLY coulda gone for those paper towels right then.

Saving graces: 'twas a dark dress and I found a stray shout wipe in  my purse! That baby did the trick and more, by the time we made it to graduation the only remaining trace of the incident was a lingering smell of coffee.

Eau de floor of a Starbucks after a long summer's day.

Whilst at said graduation I acquired...

This Sunburn:

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First of the year! Complete with a weird little white stripe across the middle where my necklace was resting.

Happens every season!

I have to be careful this year...I have to somehow make it all summer without kooky tan lines, so I'm not covered in splotches and white patches in all of our wedding photos. I keep meaning to try my bikini top on under my wedding dress to see if I can wear it or need to get a new one. HA! Sounds insane butttt I think it is necessary. Maybe I'll just have someone sew me a dress in the pattern of my wedding gown and wear that all day every day so I have absolutely perfect lines come August 16?

THAT would be insane.

(orrrr would it?!)

This Skirt:

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That is a thick layer of dust...apparently the French Connection in SoHo cleans their dressing rooms about as often as I clean my house. Aka: never.

I visited this store not once but twice in the past week, along with probably every single store in the greater NYC metropolitan area, on an epic quest for the perfect dress for this weekend's festivities. I bought and returned and bought and returned several different options and ordered a few things online - one of which is lost in the mail and one of which is being held at a FedEx facility on 108th Street in Brooklyn. I didn't even know there was a 108th Street in Brooklyn but apparently they is and they are holding hostage a sundress from Piperlime. Can't wait to go pick THAT up.

After all of these shenanigans, I finally caved yesterday and splurged and spent basically all of my discretionary income on a dream dress from Kate Spade that I'd been lusting after for weeks. I've already justified the exorbitant expense,  by promising myself I will wear it at least three times a week until I die so basically this dress has pretty much already paid for itself. In fact, they paid ME! I hope everyone likes it as much as I do cuz y'all are going to be seeing a lot of it.

In other fashion news, check out the shoes I rocked all week...

These Moccasins:

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Yes, friends, that IS my big toe.

You may recall I shared these about a year ago when dat derre rip was juuuusssst beginning and here we are, a full year later and much much rippier (it's a word) and I've yet to throw them out.

I'd get a new pair but I just spent all my money on that dress so...open toed moccasins: the hot trend for spring! You heard it here first!

This Band-aid:

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I'm finally getting serious about my nail/finger biting problem, I can NOT allow myself to have bloody, ragged fingers at our wedding, I just can't.

My thumbies are my weakness, they're just so easy to attack, so all week I've been wrapping my thumbs in band-aids in an attempt to save myself from myself.

Unbeknownst to me I purchased a box of "designer strips" which means these are no ordinary bandages, OH NO, but beautifully ("beautifully") patterned fashion band-aids. So far this week I've rocked bandages that look like they're bedecked in sequins, in black lace, in some kind of modern abstract art, and this one, my favorite, which had teeny tiny photos of models walking the catwalk.

WHO EVEN CAME UP WITH THIS? Why would someone want to wear bandaids with tiny little fashion models on them? They're so small you can't even see what they're wearing! WHYYY is this even a thing that exists in the world and why do I own it.

Kids get Sponge Bob and Dora and grownups get mini little ladies shaking their little tushes on the catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah.

I'm to sexy for my bandaid, to sexy for my bandaid...

IF ONLY there was a designer band-aid for my brain that would make me into less of a weirdo. THE END of this madness, I am outta here. Have a spectacular Memorial Day weekend and if you think I'm not going to be back with a full report from my big weekend, you're drunk. My mom told me it is traditional for the mother of the bride to buy her daughter sexy lingerie soooo that blog post can pretty much write itself.

Smooches!

Liz Ho

 

Another Awkward Week [5.16.14]

Oh my god, you guys. What is even happening? This week simultaneously flew and crawled by. If it were an animal, this week would be some kind of monster breed of like, a snake and a bald eagle...a creature which surely exists in the world of George R. R. Martin...who you can blame when this post is THE worst because I've fiiiinally started watching GOT and am, of course, obsessed. I'm not very good at casually consuming pop culture. When I decide to get into something I go ALL IN. Watching GOT is this weird experience for me because I love to read about pop culture, especially television (I mean books! I always read books and articles about books!) (#employeeoftheyear) and have this weird habit of following recaps and news about shows I've never watched. Like, I have never watched one second of that show Sons of Anarchy and yet I read the Vulture recap every week and know basically every plot point. Same for Homeland! And then I'm like "why am I so busy and stressed?" when really I'm just wasting my time watching TV or reading about the TV I don't watch.

ANYWAY, I don't read the GOT recaps but I do keep up with the news and headlines, it's kind of hard to miss when you spend as much time at Vulture as I do, so I sort of know what happens...but sort of don't. I know the names of a lot of the characters and some major plot points (Red Wedding!) but didn't actually know what all of these people looked like or how they related to one another or when these major plot points actually happened, so every episode I'm like "Oh! Khaleesi!" "The Lannisters!" "Which brother and sister are having an inappropriate sexual relationship?" (Spoiler alert: more than you'd think.)

Do you guys watch this show? It's so good! A smorgasbord of deception and manipulation and war and boobs and murder and boobs and boobs and butts and boobs! All my favorite things. We're about halfway through Season 2 and shit is going OFF. I love it.

Ok I will now stop talking about Game of Thrones...but basically if you're curious what I've been up to all week and why this blog is short, boring and poorly written: blame G.R.R.M! Winter is coming!

Let's take a look at what (else) was keeping it awkward this week.

 

These Permanent Markers:

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With which I was doodling while on a call and oh look they bled through my paper and now I have permanent ink stains on my desk.

This kind of behavior would get you held back from recess in kindergarten.

This Tupperware: 

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It's become sort of a joke with my assistant that she always walks into my office while I'm eating...because I'm always eating.

Funny stuff, I know.

WELL we took the scenario one step further, maybe too far this week when she walked in as I was licking hummus off the lid of my tupperware snack container.

I WISH I could say that was the first and last time I've ever done that but I can not lie to you, my friends. I've done it before and I'll surely do it again.

I should not be allowed out in public.

(Also: my thumb is so disgusting...let this be motivation for me to stop picking at my fingers.  GAH-ROSS, Liz. Gross.)

This Computer Screen:

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Isn't it giant? I KNOW.

So I've been trying to engage myself better in our corporate culture and take advantage of some of the classes and learning opportunities provided by my company. This week I signed up to sit in on a marketing strategy course via Web Ex, which is lingo they did not define in our class...I think it means like, via the internet? I don't even know. Basically, I signed into some program that allowed me to see the deck being presented in the class as well as hear the teachers and other participants speaking. I was also apparently supposed to hook up my phone or some other sort of microphone so I, too, could participate but OBVZ I a) don't know how and b) didn't realize that my computer doesn't just have some kind of built in microphone device.

The class started and the teacher asked everyone to go around and introduce themselves. I waited for my colleague to go before me and then started to chime in "Hello! This is Liz"...and they just kept on breezing to the next person. I waited until the next person spoke and tried again, this time a little louder: "Hello! It's Liz!!!" They didn't hear me. I leaned into the speakers, where the noise was coming OUT and tried to make the noise go IN: "HELLO IT IS LIZ CAN YOU HEAR ME????"

Surprisingly this did not work.

It was basically a parody of a geriatric woman who has just seen her first iPad. 29 going on 90.

PS: do you guys watch Inside Amy Shumer? She is DIVINE and I recommend diving deep into her archives but this particular video is especially appropriate for illustrating this tale. I'm the clueless mom character, of course.

(PS: If you look closely enough you can see all the important tabs I have open: numerous searches for "at home bikini body workouts" (I hate myself), some kind of feminist article (to counterbalance my buying into the idea of a "bikini body") and one tab where I was apparently googling myself. WORKING HARD!)

This Turnstile:

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So last weekend we were in Philadelphia for a wedding, wedding-going is our #1 hobby and pastime these days (after watching Game of Thrones, that is!!!) and while we were there, I got stuck in a subway turnstile.

I, Liz Hohenadel, who rides the subway at least two times per day, sometimes more on weekends, found herself entangled in the metal bars of the turnstile, like some kind of martian who first landed in the deep midwest and then went blind and then visited the Big City for their very first time.

I can't even explain what happened. I put my token in (Philly still uses actual tokens! It's so quaint!) (That sounds demeaning but I mean it in a positive way.) and I walked forward and then the bar got stuck and I stepped back and then I stepped forward again and then I pulled the bar backwards for some reason and then it wouldn't go forwards again so I kept pulling it further back...maybe hoping it would like, do a full 360 and flip me over like a pig on a spit right onto the subway platform? I don't even know.

The woman working at the token booth had to get involved and believe you me...girl was NOT amused. I am going to go out on a limb and guess that working the token booth in the Philadelphia subway system is not exactly full of sunshine and daisies and butterflies, unless those are the names of the homeless men peeing in the corner (it's really not nice to make jokes about homelessness, I know) but this lady DID NOT CARE if I got myself through the turnstile or not and had no plans to help me through.

You know who else had no plans to help me through? OH that's right, BRIAN. You know, my life partner and love of my life who stood there watching me and laughing. Just cracking up, busting a gut laughing while the future mother of his children, woman who irons his shirts for him (not because of gender roles...I'm just better at it) and who is going to walk down the aisle and marry him in exactly 3 months from today (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) got trapped behind bars. I could have died there! And he just laughed! And then, when I finally got through and we made it to my sister's house, announced: "Sorry we're late, Liz got stuck and caused a scene in the subway."

RUDE.

Long story long, somehow I freed myself, the wedding was lovely and I've now ridden multiple subways all week without incident so...good times.

And that, my dear pals, was my week! What have YOU been up to?? Any weekend plans? I'm going to Pittsburgh for...wait for it...wait for it...any guesses... a wedding!! I am SO excited for this one. I mean, I'm always excited for all weddings but this one will be very dear to me. The bride Brigette is Maggie's BFF, they've known each other since they were about four years old, and have been besties ever since and in that time, Brigette has become like a member of our family, coming on vacations, being part of inside jokes, she was even there when we first started calling our mom The Schmoopster. Tomorrow she's marrying this great, great guy and it's just going to be so neat seeing her start this new adventure in her life and I'm so honored to be there. Also starting new adventures: Brian's sister is graduating from college on Sunday! So Brian and I are splitting up this weekend - me to a wedding, him to the graduation, which of course makes me feel weird and guilty and like I'm personally perpetuating the idea that marriage is a more important achievement in a woman's life than an education but I MIGHT need to stop taking myself so seriously and calm it down. Maybe?

BASICALLY it is an exciting weekend for many people who I love so hooray! Let's party. Everybody dance now!

I'm losing it. Have a great weekend, buddies!

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [5.9.14]

Guuuys, I’m BACK! Just a few hours after writing last week’s sad post, bemoaning my lack of awkward moments, I went out for fries (my second plate of fries for the day but who’s counting?!), misjudged the size of the opening on the ketchup bottle, and poured about 6 gallons of the stuff all over the dish. 20140502_181226

Holla!

Immediately upon spilling, as my friends rushed to help clean it up like normal people, I yelled “YES! I’M BACK!” and whipped out my camera to document it for posterity.

BOOM. It was touch and go there for a while but I it is safe to say the awkward train has left the station. Choo choo!

Why would anyone say that? No one talks like that.

I am a hot mess this morning. I had long-planned dinner with my girlfriends last night that started weird when I called it "sensual"  instead of "sophisticated" on the google calendar invite and ended weird when one of the girls, who works for Peanut Butter & Company, busted out half a dozen jars of fancy peanut butters and we all just sat there in the middle of a restaurant drinking beers and eating peanut butter right out of the jar. It was both sophisticated and sensual, for sure. I feel less than amazing this morning...can you get a peanut butter hangover? Is that a thing? OY! Enough rambling, let’s take a look back at what was keeping it awkward this week.

 

These Tulips:

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Fresh, alive and BEAUTIFUL. I left them for at least 3 more days after snapping this photo.

See also: our garbage covered dining room table. My house is such a hovel. SIGH.

These Cake Stands:

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I got to go with one of my authors to the Martha Stewart headquarters located waaayyyy on the West Side of Manhattan. It was really neat. They have this HUGE prop library just chock full of kitchen gadgets and bowls and plates and vases and, of course, cake stands...just imagine like, the biggest West Elm + the biggest Pottery Barn + Macy's Herald Square + Martha Stewart Living Magazine + all of your wildest dreams come true and that's pretty much what this place was like.

Jen and I both arrived late due to train troubles, and she had to be on live radio, so the moment we arrived they whisked us right up the back staircase and into their radio studio. WHO should we see, as we're sprinting down the hall? Why Martha herself!!! Walking out of the ladies room! Like a regular person!

It was awesome.

It turns out that had we not been late, we would have actually gotten to meet her and have a conversation with her which would have, obviously, been amazing. Buuuut I'm kind of glad it happened this way. It's a slightly better story and now I get to tell the whole wide world that Martha Stewart pees in a shared bathroom just like a commoner!

ha!

This Fancy Cocktail:

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I realized I was going to be home alone the other night and decided to enjoy the evening with a crisp glass of white wine on ice, like the WASPy desperate housewife I apparently aspire to be.

But then I remembered that we had no wine in the house and I'm not letting myself spend money on anything that's not wedding or move related so I gave up on my dreamo of vino. But THEN I remembered that I had a few plastic mini bottle of the upscale Sutter Home Vintage floating around my office, left over from a work project so I secretly stuck a bottle in my purse, carted it home, broke out the ice cubes and had the classiest little party for one you ever did see.

On the upside, at least I used a glass! I would have just stuck in a bendy straw…but we were all out.

This project, by the way, was a complete disaster in and of itself. My colleague and I came up with this adorable summer reads package, and we were so proud of ourselves. We stuffed a tote bag with some of our hottest summer titles + a mini bottle of wine (of the classiest variety, clearly. Publishing money!) and cookies and we mailed them to all these editors and it turns out we didn't wrap the cookies very well because they all smashed so instead of these adorable tote bags, everyone's packages were just covered top to bottom in crushed chocolate and cookie crumbs and people had to throw them out. Whoops!   A+++ work right there.

These Jeans:

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I wore these pantaloons to work yesterday and for some reason, something on the inside seam of my right leg kept poking me. I don’t know what it was – these are not new, so it wasn't a tag or anything. I did just get them back from the laundry, so perhaps there were some shards of glass floating around in the dryer and one of them got stuck inside my jeans seam and then started waging war on my inner thigh?

That sounds like a super normal and likely scenario.

ANYWAY, I was walking to gym over lunch and the poking got SO painful I could barely walk. I told myself to keep going, I just had to make it one more block to the gym and I could take the pants off in the locker room and inspect them. I made it five more steps, but the pain was unbearable, so I stopped and adjusted the jeans from the outside, hoping that would do the trick.

No dice.

I made it five more steps and was in such excruciating pain, I realized I couldn’t wait to the locker room to go deep…I had to get inside my pants.

Now, I was walking on a crowded sidewalk, so I tried to be as inconspicuous as I could. I turned away from the street and as quickly as possible, jammed my hand down the inside of my jeans and sort of rubbed around the inner-mid-thigh area, hoping to dislodge the sharp object.

As I quickly withdrew my hands from down in my pants, I looked up and realized that I had turned away from the street, oh yes, and instead was DIRECTLY FACING a middle school.

A MIDDLE SCHOOL. I was standing on the street, with my hand shoved down my pants in front of a middle school.

I belong in jail.

And on a similar note...

This Photo:

 

I probably can’t show the actual photo for legal reasons.

One of the fun things about commuting on the train is the people you see every day – it’s sort of comforting and weirdly I start to think I know them, when I really don’t. Do any of you guys do this?*

One of my VERY favorite subway buddies is this little boy who is maaaybe three years old and I see him some mornings, riding the uptown 1 train with his mom. This kid is SO flipping cute – he has little glasses and you KNOW how much I love toddlers with glasses (I hope our future children inherit their dad’s near blindness instead of my, ahem, better than perfect , vision.) and I can just tell he’s charmingly nerdy, he’s always reading books or playing like, math games with his mom and I LOVE him.

Yesterday morning it was drizzly and my BCFWIACS (Best Child Friend Who Is Actually a Complete Stranger) was wearing a mini rain slicker, galoshes and…wait for it…a knit sweater with the superman logo on it. Not a sweatshirt, but an actual like, wool sweater with the iconic logo on the front. It was soooooooo cute that I took a photo because I wanted to show all my pals how cute my BCFWIACS was looking that morning. Did I bust this picture out over our peanut butter feast last night? Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't.

Basically what I’m saying is please forward all my mail to the New York State Home for Deranged Criminal Women because that is where I’m headed.

Annnnd on that note, I think it’s best if I shut this whole thing down before I actually get condemned. How was everyone else’s week?! Big weekend plans? I’m going to Philly for a wedding of one of my study abroad buddies that should be one heck of a party. I’m excited! I wonder what my BCFWIACS will do all weekend??!!!! 

Xoxoxo

* We're going to be publishing a book allll about this phenomenon next winter (I think?) called Girl on a Train (probably!) and it's AMAZING and creepy and awesome and I assume you'll all rush right out and buy it when we do!

Another Awkward Week [4.25.14]

Hi guys!! How was everybody's week? Mine was extremely eventful. As you'll see below! I only wish it had been a scoonch warmer, you know? It's so hard to get dressed this time of year. It's freezing in the mornings, warm during the day and chilly again at night. It's not warm enough for bare legs, and yet I hate the idea of wearing tights into April. I guess an answer would be to wear tights to the office and then take them off...just maybe not in a public place, like this person did:

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Yes those ARE a pair of ladies' stockings sitting on top of our communal office microwave. Gross? UM YEAH. What the WHAT?! I don't even want to know how this happened. I swear these aren't mine, guys. You know I'd tell you. And even I'm not THAT weird.

What's up for everybody's weekend?  My half marathon is tomorrow morning. AAAAAH! I'm so excited. Slash nervous. But mostly excited. But mostly nervous. Just kidding, I"m excited!' Right now the weather channel is calling for rain during just the exact hours while I'll be running. Adorable, Mother Nature, truly charming. But I won't let it get me stressed. I will race in the rain! If Garth Stein can do it, so can I.

(Fist bump to any nerds who get that reference!)

I'll wait until after I finish to wax poetic about my new found love of running, and how empowered it's made me feel and how I've become the sort of person who can talk about say "empowered" in a totally serious way. But I will state right now, on the public record, that even if I don't finish the race (which I totally will!) (But just in case!) that I am so dang proud of myself for undertaking this challenge. Just in the training, I've pushed myself farther than I thought I could go and it feels so good. I'm shamelessly patting myself right on the back.

You go, self!

Ok enough of this mumbo jumbo. I have to start carbo loading immediately & I have MUCH to share, so let's cut right to the chase and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Iron:

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Totally unplugged!

But I couldn't remember if I truly did unplug it after half-assedly ironing a shirt on Monday morning so instead of taking a gym/lunch break, I left my desk at 9:45 AM, took the subway all the way back to Brooklyn, reassured myself I was not burning down the apartment, and returned to the office.

Nuts? Maybe! Possibly yes.  know it seems a little crazy, but I couldn't shake the anxiety and I knew I'd get no work done if I didn't just quiiiickly check. I'm working hard to manage my emotions and not let my worries get the best of me, but usually my worries are totally abstract and insane, like, if Brian doesn't respond to an email for a little bit, I assume he's either dead, or cheating on me. Or BOTH: he's cheating and was just murdered by his mistress in a fit of lustful rage. Or if I have a weird throat tickle, I instantly assume it's, at best, a viral infection, at worst: fatal cancer.

Those sorts of mega-fears, I can quiet, convince myself are not true, but leaving the iron turned on, smoldering my apartment into a fiery blaze? TOTALLY within the realm of possibility.

I have no regrets! Except ironing in the first place. Next time something's wrinkly, I'm just throwing it in the garbage. Ain't nobody got time for this!

This Faucet:

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This faucet spray nozzle thing is an excellent tool, especially when rinsing out the sink or blasting especially hard to clean dishes, like the inside of the reusable plastic straw from your travel smoothie mug. To make it work, you turn on the regular faucet, pull out the spray nozzle and push a button and WHOOSH! Power blast. As soon as you release the button, the water once again runs just out of the regular faucet.

Why am I even going into this? Y'all know how to use sinks.

I, however, do not.

I always wash dishes first thing when I wake up, while Brian's in the shower and the coffee's going, it's all part of my slow wake-up routine. The other morning I must not have been awake enough, or like, at all, because I used the spray nozzle and then tried to put it back in its holder without removing my finger, effectively SOAKING myself.

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Like, soaking.

And once again, may I present a real-life counterpart to a fantasy. I like to sleep in Brian's old button-downs because they're really comfortable and also I imagine that they're super sexy. Like, you know that scene in basically every movie and TV show ever where the male hero sleeps with a new woman and then wakes up in the morning and there she is, wearing his oversized shirt and nothing else, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee, bathed in the morning sunlight smiling like a perfect, sensual angel?

Andd then we have reality: oversized shirt, usually buttoned incorrectly so it hangs crookedly, atop a pair of 1 zillion year old pajama bottoms, messy grease-mop of hair, smeared mascara everywhere because NO MATTER HOW MANY HOURS I spend trying to take off my eye makeup, I always wake up with smudges under my eyes and water everywhere.

A perfect, sensual angel!!!!

This Bus Seat:

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This weekend Brian & I were in Philly visiting my sister for Easter and we took the city bus uptown to the Art Museum area to spend some time outside. When we got on, we found three empty seats together and promptly plopped our booties down. Point two seconds later, I felt a weird wetness seeping onto my thigh, and realized my seat had a wet spot right smack dab in the middle.

I leapt to my feet, touched the now wet spot on my running tights, smelled my hand to assure myself it wasn't pee (it wasn't! I swear. Maybe it was but I say it was just water and I'm sticking to that story) and the three of us moved up to the next row of seats all, mercifully, bone dry.

Our new seats were right above the ones we'd just abandoned and at the next stop a man got on and immediately went to sit in the wet seat.

"That seat is wet!" I squawked, not wanting to anyone to suffer my same fate.

He thanked me and moved to another spot.

At the next stop a young woman got on and where do you think she headed? You know!

I blurted out another warning: "That seat's wet!" and she nodded in thanks before even beginning to sit.

The next stop...repeat! And repeat and repeat and repeat for essentially every single stop on our 15 minute bus ride. I had somehow become the de-facto guardian of everyone's butts. Once I'd warned one passenger, and then a second, the pattern had been established. I couldn't just stop warning them...I knew the seat was wet AND everybody else on the bus knew I knew the seat was wet because I told them when they got on, so not only would I knowingly allow someone to soak their bottom, but everyone would know my deceit and oh, how they would judge.

Being a good Samaritan is exhausting, guys.

Also, just for my own sanity, could you all please reassure me that it was totally just water and not pee?!

This Liquor Store:

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So Pennsylvania has these ridiculously strict liquor laws about how and when and where and in what quantity alcohol can be purchased and consumed. One positive result of this is that the majority of restaurants in the Philadelphia area are BYOB and thus, fabulously affordable. However, a negative consequence of this is that it's nearly impossible to find a place to purchase  said B. In NYC, at least in the yuppie, gentrified neighborhoods I frequent, wine and liquor stores are as easy to come upon as Duane Reades and Chase ATM's and you can buy beer at bodegas, grocery stores, even CVS. But in Philly, there are like three state-run liquor stores, all spread across the city and they're only open from like noon to five on Saturday's and you have to buy beer at a special beer distributor and it's just a whole hot mess. I know this next sentence is going to make me sound like some kind of raging wino and I swear I'm not, but whenever I'm in town I get very stressed about where and how we're going to purchase wine. The pleasure of BYOB dinners are instantly negated when you have to add on a 4 mile trek to the nearest State Store just to get your $8 bottle of Rex Goliath Sauvignon Blanc.

I'm getting stressed now just thinking about it!

So anyway, blah blah, last Saturday we were in Philadelphia with Margerie, like I mentioned above. At about 3 PM we had just finished a 10-mile run (humblebrag) up by the Art Museum and were heading back to her home in South Philly, many miles away. We had 9:30 PM dinner reservations at a (BYOB) Italian place on her block and decided we'd spend the time between sitting on her patio, soaking up the sun and sipping homemade sangria. We just needed to pick up some wine! We figured it would be easier to grab while uptown than back in her 'hood, so we used our trusty smartphones to search for the nearest wine distributor.

"There's one just a few blocks away," Maggie told us, looking up from her Google Maps. "And right by a bus stop, too." And off we went, following the map to the address they'd listed: 1814 Kater St.

When we got to Kater Street, we were dubious. It appeared to be entirely residential, a small alley flanked by identical townhouses. 1820, 1818, 1816...finally we came upon 1814 and it was not a wine store or a store of any kind, but a private residence. The map told us we were standing in front of Vinocity Events but we were quite clearly not.

A man was outside of the house next door, playing with his adorable children. He saw us looking lost and asked us what we were looking for.

"Wine!" we replied in unison.

Totally normal. This man is just trying to enjoy a day with his kids while strange winos dressed in workout gear roam his pleasant residential street.

He gave us a few addresses and sent us on our way, but we decided to just take the bus back to Maggie's and try downtown.

Upon our return, we asked Maggie's roommate where the nearest wine store was located (Maggie doesn't know her nearest wine store? Are we even related?) and she gave us some convoluted directions to walk a few blocks to the Safeway, through the parking lot and "it's right near the Home Depot."

Sure? Marge seemed to understand what she was talking about so off we went! We trudged through Maggie's cute neighborhood, then a sort of shady area full of gas stations near the highway and then came upon the Safeway, nestled among a smattering of strip malls. We walked through the parking lot and scanned the storefronts - FedEx, Dress Barn, Krafty Korner...but no wine. We came to the end of the parking lot and saw the Home Depot in front of us, but still hadn't located the wine.

We were standing on the street corner next to a pop-up tent selling Easter flowers, looking lost, when suddenly we heard a voice.

"Hey ladies. You lost? Looking for the gym?"

We turned around. The flower seller must have spotted us from his tent and assumed from our running clothes that we were headed to work out.

"The opposite!" we replied. "We're looking for the liquor store."

"Liquor! Niiiiiiceeeee" he leered, looking us up and down. "What are you guys drinking? You partying tonight?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small child lingering in the flower tent, probably his own son. Real classy, dude. We tried to extricate ourselves from the conversation, and fast.

"Can you just tell us where the State Store is?" we asked, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh yeahhhhh...you just take a left, walk past the safe way and over to the Meinike and you'll find it. If you go under the highway, you've gone to far. You ladies have a great time partying tonight, drink up, yeahhhhh."

First of all: GROSS, DUDE, GROSS.

Second of all: WHAT THE FUCK, PHILADELPHIA!?! Why are you making it so hard to buy wine! Why do we have to wander around in car repair parking lots and under highways just to find the nearest liquor store?! I don't know if the state thinks that by limiting alcohol vendors they'll reduce consumption but this whole excursion is DRIVING ME TO DRINK.

Finally we found what we were looking for, hidden behind a Jiffy Lube. We grabbed a family sized jug of Barefoot and a smaller, more sophisticated Cupcake to bring to dinner and hightailed it out of there.

At this point we'd run 10 miles, walked about 1 more to get to the "Vinocity Events" aka some man's house, then walked at least two more to find this stupid godforsaken liquor store and we still had to get home. We had no water. My legs were cramping, I wanted to cry.

I suddenly understand why Frodo is such a whiny brat throughout Lord of the Rings.  Epic journeys are exhausting!

Next time I go to Philly, I"m B-ing my own B all the way from New York.

Annnnd the end. What a week, you guys. WHAT A WEEK! What's everyone up to this weekend? I hope you have plenty of wine, whatever it may be.

I'm off to eat 36 bagels, refresh Weather.com repeatedly and pretend to be calm. Wish me luck!

xoxo Liz Ho

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.

[gallery ids="2790,2789,2788"]

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 [4.11.14]

Good morning everyone! What is up? What is the 4-11? GET IT?! Because it's April 11? 4-11?

No?

Whatever. I think it's funny! God, I crack myself up. WHAT A COMEDIENNE!!

How was everyone's week? I had these amazing intentions to blog up a STORM but...looks like that didn't happen. Whoops. But I definitely thought about it so that counts, right?

Next week! There's always next week!

And what's up for the weekend? I'm going to New Jersey tonight to meet a friend for dinner and then returning to Brooklyn and then going back to New Jersey tomorrow for a wedding (First of 9 for 2014!) so it should be quite the whirlwind. I was actually in New Jersey last weekend, too, visiting another friend.

Basically just call me JWoww. I'm all about that Jerz.

And now, because I'm writing this on Friday AM while I should be working, as I chose TV and painting my nails over blogging last night (I mean...partying! I was partying!) so I need to be quite quick about this. Let's take a look back at what was keeping it awkward this week.

 

This Hairspray:

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I am a total sucker for coupons and customer reward bonuses. I know they're basically a huge marketing scam but consider me scammed. If you mark something 2 for 1 or coupon it up I will probably buy it. Especially cosmetic products. I don't know the reasoning behind this but I am ALL IN for discounted lotions and sprays.

This week I had to go to CVS to pick up a prescription and oh look, also had $2.50 extra bucks on my ExtraCare Card (copyright CVS, probably) plus a whole bunch of coupons so I RACED over there and loaded my arms with discounted products: three canisters of shave gel, a family pack of toothbrushes (Brian's VERY particular about fresh tooth brushes like, every week. He's so weird!) and two canisters of my favorite hairspray, marked down to buy one, get one 50% off. BOOM.

My arms were full to the brim and I probably should have gotten a basket but I always think it's kind of weird to get a basket at the drugstore, I don't know why, don't ask. Maybe I just have PTSD for accidentally stealing one that one time?

At any rate long story SO SO extra long, I was waiting in the check-out line, my arms laden with ozone destroying aerosol canisters when a bottle of hairspray fell out of my arms and hit the ground causing the lid to pop off and HIT A BABY STROLLER.

I repeat: HIT A BABY STROLLER.

Ok just the wheel, no one was injured but they could have been!

And now I need to find space in my apartment for my 97 canisters of shave gel and hair spray.

This Umbrella:

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I left my umbrella at my friend's house over the weekend (housewarming gift for the Manley's!). It rained on Monday and Brian unearthed this bad boy from the depths of his closet. It worked for about 2.2 seconds until it oh, so didn't.

I needed to grocery shop on Monday after work and was planning to stop home, drop off my gym bag, pick up my reusable shopping bags and go to the nice grocery store a few blocks away from my apartment. But my commute home was a mess and I got impatient and decided I'd just get out a stop earlier than my usual and go to the other, grosser, lamer store on the way to my house, just to save time.

Huge mistake.

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to buy the heaviest foods - canned beans, potatoes, gallons of milk - on the day I didn't have any sturdy bags, so on my walk home I somehow had to juggle six extremely heavy plastic bags, all on the verge of breaking, plus my gym bag, plus my umbrella, which essentially snapped in half one second after I walked out of the door, so that I was basically holding a stick with a floppy napkin above my head.

I struggled the short walk back to my apartment. Two blocks away from home a nice gentleman did stop to ask if I needed help but I was close enough to make it, so I declined. One block away from my house a less nice gentleman saw how burdened I was, shook his head and said "sorry."

Sorry?! FOR WHAT?! Are you going to offer to help? Put up or shut up, my fine friend.

I finally made it to my door where I abandoned the groceries at the bottom of the steps and demanded that my nice gentleman go bring them up for me.

What a mess.

Semi related, I just stopped in the drug store next to my office to buy a new umbrella, as today's forecast calls for rain and that green number certainly isn't going to cut it. They usually have a big display out but today I could only find one. I got to the register and the cashier told me the umbrella + tax came to $32.

WHAT THE WHAT. I told her to "cancel that order" and ran out of the store.

This Ensemble:

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I'm LOVING this warm weather, don't get me wrong, but it's hard to know exactly how to dress for days when it's 30 degrees colder in the morning than it is at lunch time. So I'm taking the layered approach: cardigan over a cardigan made infinitely sexier by the Melanie-Griffith-in-Working-Girl bright white sneakers for my commute.

Also This Other Ensemble:

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Was racing around to get to a work event when I managed to squirt under eye concealer all over my shirt. Turns out, the one thing concealer does not conceal is itself.

This Pudding:

As you know, I love a good superfood as much as the next cliched blogger and chia seeds are still pretty much the hottest thing going. I've been trying to cut down on my sugar intake, so when I saw recipes popping up for sugar free, dairy free chia seed pudding, I was all about that life.

I found a recipe via A Beautiful Mess that promised to be easy. Simply mix chia seeds, coconut milk, vanilla extract and a pinch of salt in a bowl or glass. Chill for a while and boom: delicious, healthy dessert.

If done right, it should look like the photo above.

Mine looked a little more like this:

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And tasted horrible. The milk never really thickened and the seeds stayed crunchy and it was just like, a bowl of the worst seedy, watery puddingy grossness you ever ate in your whole life.

And by ever ate I mean, literally ate because even thought it was grotesque, I still ate about half the bowl. WHY. Why oh why?

I'm still not giving up on the chia pudding though, guys. If at first you don't succeed, etc etc etc. Eating trendy healthy foods not only makes my body feel better but also helps me maintain a sense of superiority over others (real talk) so I will perfect this recipe if it's the last thing I do.

Foodie pals - help a sister out!

Also, for the record, I know now that Almond Breeze non dairy milks have carageenan in them which is apparently horrible for you and to be avoided but none of the other non carageenan-filled brands had unsweetened milk and I couldn't decide if artificial sweeteners were worse than carageenan so I just panicked and went with what I know I like. It was very stressful. Eating healthy is really hard! And I'm a yuppie white lady who is obsessed with reading about food so imagine how much more difficult it must be for people without access to all of the resources I have to obtain the right foods.

Just something to think about! Friday morning rant!

SHUT. IT. DOWN.

And that was my week. I don't think any of these stories made much sense but you know what? Life doesn't make sense. All I know is, it's Friday, I'm having a great hair day, and if I don't get to work like, immediately, I am in deep trouble. So the end!

Have a most spectacular weekend, my fine friends! Don't forget to pack a (working!) umbrella!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [4.4.14]

Good morning, everyone! How's your day? Mine is already off to a very ... Liz-esque start. I wasted like 30 minutes this morning dealing with a hard-boiled egg situation. It's been what, like 2 weeks since I've done something weird involving eggs?

Basically I needed breakfast this morning and didn't want to buy because I'm trying to be responsible with my cash flow these days and I remembered I needed to make an egg for right before I wanted to leave for work, so I put it on the stove and finished getting ready and then remembered that hardboiled eggs need to chill before you eat them and how can I simultaneously chill and transport my egg this morning?

Option one: ziploc bag full of ice...leaked.

Option two: ice water in a tupperware container that guess what? Leaked.

Option three: This was the clever one - I'd fill my water bottle up with water, drop in the egg, drop in a couple of ice cubes et voila! A handy dandy egg-transporter-cooler. Except when I dropped in the egg it broke and then I realized my water bottle, which I like to drink from, was now filled with eggwater and the egg was inedible so the last 30 minutes were a waste and oh, look, I'm going to be late for work and still don't have breakfast.

And after all that, I'm out an egg and the five dollars I then spent on a breakfast sandwich. Worth it. Also, patent pending on an egg cooler transporter - it seems like an item EVERYONE needs in their life!

Anyhoodle - GOOD MORNING KITTENS!! Happy April! Were any of you fools this week? My roommate pulled a good one:

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Tee hee! Brian went to bed before I did the night of 4/1 and when I went in to use the lav before bed, I found the toilet lid shut. I didn't suspect a thing and surprise! Balloon! Good one, prankster.

And it's a prank that keeps on giving because, oh yes, that balloon is still sitting on the floor of our bathroom. We are nothing if not deeply committed to keeping a tidy home.

Le sigh.

Ok, I'll stop rambling about eggs and things and cut right to it. Let's take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week!

This Week's Spill:

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Black & white striped dress. Where do you think the salad dressing landed?

YUP.

This Bar:

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Last night one of my favorite authors was in town and we met for a drink - she also reads this blog. I'm really blurring the line between personal and professional these days. Whoops.

Anyway.

We met at this kind of hip (I guess??) bar in the West Village called The Other Room. It was a gorgeous night (FINALLY!!!) and the few seats set up outside the bar were taken when we arrived, but we were lucky to get second best: two seats at a little counter at the big front window. Score.

Except...maybe not. We got the sense right away that we were not exactly welcomed by the hipper than thou bartender. We asked for the cocktail list and he informed us they only sold wine, beer, port and sake. Port and sake. OH NYC you're the worst. We were struggling to order our wines without fully butchering the pronunciation (something called "gwendochino blanc, or something?") when another patron rolled in, an attractive woman with a serious 'tude. She was clearly upset that all the good seats were taken and complained openly about it to the bartender in the way that girls who think they're funnier and cuter than they are often do, a little too loudly, pretending they're 'just joking haha!" but actually quite seriously believe they deserve preference.

For the record, in case you can't pick up the subtlety, I do NOT find this charming.

"I wanted to sit outside." She told the bartender. "Can I at least sit at the window."

"Someone else took those seats," he replied with a shrug and disdainful look in our direction.

they both stared at us...trying to get us to move?

We muttered apologies, awkwardly chugged our grmuncmody blancs.

"Just wait it out til they get up and leave" the bartender said.

They (WE!) continued to gulp our wine as the bartender and Ms. Hot Shit talked loud and proud about how soon, so soon, "they" (we!) would just get up and vacate the premises.

It was overall a welcoming, warm and inviting bar!

And in the re-reading I'm realizing this might be one of those "you had to be there" kind of stories but sadly you were not there so you'll just have to go right on ahead and trust me and maybe just politely laugh a little bit to make me feel OK?

THANKS!

This Dress:

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Wrap dresses. They're all fun and games and figure flattery until the top won't stay shut, no matter the fact that you've afixed it to your bra with a spare bobby pin and multiple, and I mean MULTIPLE, of your coworkers have to casually pull you aside and politely whisper "Liz your, um...top" while trying not to stare at your exposed hooter.

This Picture:

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My camera must have gone off at some point? One hundred* dollars to the person who can correctly guess what this might be.

(* zero)

These Manicure Tools:

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I have a terrible habit (only one!) of biting and picking at my nails and cuticles. I know it is unattractive and unhygienic and all around gross but I love it and can't stop.

Brian's a biter too and we've realized we really need to curb this scene before the wedding - our photog will try to take those cute romantic shots of our brand new wedding bands and there will just be blood dripping everywhere. We can't have that.

So! Per a recommendation from Brian's sister (hi Emily!) I've been trying to use this Essy Apricot Cuticle Oil as a replacement - whenever I want to bite, I slather on the cuticle oil and it keeps my nails from getting ragged. Also it makes me smell delicious!

I also keep a bottle of clear topcoat at my desk because it's super appropriate and professional to paint your nails in your office (false). Earlier this week I week I slathered up my fingers with cuticle oil and thought something felt off - it was kind of thick and gloopy and OH WAIT, I just painted all over my fingers with nailpolish.

Thankfully it was clear?!

And that, my pals, was my week! How was yours? What's everyone up to this weekend? I'm reuniting with my college roomies at our friend's brand new house in New Jersey (adulthood!!) and we're going to gossip so effing hard, the world might collapse. I can't even pretend like we're going to discuss smart, valuable life stuff because we're super not. We're just going to dish on people we went to college with (maybe even YOU?!?!) and celebrities (I'm deeply concerned for Zac Efron) and drink so much wine and it's going to be Tony the Tiger style GRRRRREAT!

April Showers, May Flowers & Plenty O Pilgrims to you and yours, my fine friends. Have a great weekend!

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [3.28.14]

Hey you guys! What's up? How was everyone's week. Mine was very weddingy which is now a real word, in the OED, look it up, fools. Seriously, though, this week was a veritable nuptial extravaganza. Tuesday I went bridesmaid dress shopping and  Wednesday Brian & I went suit shopping (more on both of those below!) and last night I went to a Wedding Expo which was...definitely something! It was a real thing.

Quick backstory, I'm working on this fantastic book coming out in May called Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest by Jen Dollwhich is amazing. I very rarely actually talk about my books here because I don't want the authors to get like, a google alert and read this and realize what a freak their publicist is BUT I already know that both the author (hi, Jen!) and editor (hi, Ali!) a) read this blog and b) know I'm a total freak so it's all good. Also good? The book, so you should probably just go ahead and pre-order it riiiiiight now.

Jen was invited to attend the New York Magazine Wedding Expo and thought: "who could I invite to join me who is engaged and will do anything for a story and some free wine?" The answer was crystal clear. And thus, Jen & I found ourselves in a chic event space in Chelsea at 4:45 PM on a Thursday sipping white wine and stuffing our tote bags with swag.

 

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The expo was super nice but also suuuuper overwhelming. There were tons of people all about, including one woman whose job it was to walk around in a slinky wedding gown carrying a sign advertising the designer and DJ's playing loud party music and hoardes of women roaming in packs - many of whom brought their baby strollers which, like, I don't judge the carriage before the marriage, you do you, but why did you bring your baby here? I know it's tough to get a sitter but like, is this really the establishment where you want to be carting around a toddler? Possibly no.

Like any trade show there were just booths and booths and booths of vendors and everyone had some kind of treat (macrons! mini cakes! LOBSTER ROLLS!) to lure you to stop and peruse their wares and most also had some kind of opportunity to register for a giveaway, which we did with wild abandon. I can't remember everything I signed up to win but the list included:

  • false eyelashes
  • lingerie
  • cake pops
  • skin treatment
  • a full set of bridesmaid dresses (!)
  • earrings
  • engagement photos
  • dance lessons (!!)

I have yet to receive any calls or emails so I'm assuming I won nothing but I am really holding out hope on those dance lessons.

Just kidding. NIGHTMARE.

Finally we reached that point where we were so overwhelmed with people and stimuli and people that we just sort of crashed and had to run for the door.

I also experience this emotion when visiting art museums or shopping at Forever 21.

I'm really glad we went and do think I saw some valuable stuff, but can't possibly imagine actually going to one of those as an outlet for getting wedding ideas like, right at the beginning. The sheer volume of options and images made my head spin.

Just like Brian and I will spin on the dance floor when we win those tango lessons. Come on, phone, ring, damn it, RING!

Ok, enough. This is already a novel and I've barely even scratched the surface. Let us take a look at what (else!) was keeping it awkward this week:

This Microwave:

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First of all please ignore that pile of cardboard recycling in the corner, I know we need to dispose of that!

Second of all, do take note of the smashed glass on the floor below said microwave. That is the glass tray that came with the microwave, smashed into a zillion little pieces after I knocked it out while removing my microwaveable heating pad because I am 86 years old.

Easy solution: register for a new microwave!

Except: This belongs with the apartment, WHOOPS.

So now I have to track down and purchase a very specific microwave tray lest we lose our security deposit over this.

Luckily I am already pretty skilled in purchasing wholesale kitchen appliance parts thanks to the time I broke a glass shelf in the refrigerator of my first apartment in Brooklyn by dropping a heavy container of leftover Thanksgiving food on it.

Liz Ho: destroying one rental kitchen at a time!

These Dresses:

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Front runners for the bridesmaids! I will give you a WHOLE long and detailed story about the endless search for bridesmaid dresses, made extra endless by my deep passion for over-thinking and making everything 80 billion times more complicated than necessary but for now, a tiny tale.

Kathleen and I went to Bella Bridesmaid in Midtown on Tuesday night to check out some options (it was a really nice boutique with a pretty great selection and good customer service, just FYI if this applies to you) and while we were looking through the racks with our assigned stylist, we suddenly heard the sound of crying coming from one of the dressing rooms.

And by crying I mean like weeping. Like heaving sobs. Like me watching Les Mis hysterics.

I mean...bridesmaid dress shopping is stressful but...? YIKES pull yourself together, man!

It turns out it may have actually been a staff member crying over some kind of personal life drama which makes me feel a little bad for judging but whatever the reason behind the tears, it does not erase how painfully awkward it was for the three of us to resume rifling through brightly colored chiffon, acting like nothing was amiss, to the soundtrack of violent sobbing.

AAAAH.

Also did I make a final decision on bridesmaid dresses yet? Probably! Or not. Just ... don't ask.

This Corner:

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I worked out over lunch the other day and when I came back, managed to spill my entire (full!) water bottle on my office floor, right next to a stack of book boxes. I saw the water encroaching on the box of delicate paper books and panicked, looking around the room for some sort of towel with which I might mop up the spill before it ruined our product.

I got the brilliant idea to use my gym clothes BUT I had my fancy stuff that day and they're all made out of some kind of fancy like, sweat repelling material so they weren't really absorbing the giant lake I created (thanks for nothing, Under Armor) BUT the dirty underwear I had just worn to workout were, in fact, cotton, so I mopped up the spill with a pair of underwear.

It made complete sense at the time, for some reason, but then I though about it later and remembered that in our office we have both a kitchen AND a bathroom, both of which are resplendent with paper towels, products which are designed for the sole purpose of absorbing liquids.

And instead I used my underpants.

WHAT is wrong with me? So very very VERY many things.

I must have been a clutz-o-rama that day because later that evening, I met Brian at ...

This Suit Shop:

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My groom and I went out on an expedition to find a suit for him for our wedding and a co-worker recommended this classy place in SoHo called Suit Supply. She assured us they were known for slim cut suits for slim cut fellows and at a good price point.

And she was right! Despite the semi douche vibe of their website (just...ignore those photos) the place was straight up classy and the customer service was outstanding. They helped Brian find a really REALLY good looking suit  and suggested some matching options for his groomsmen, recommended shoe stores, tie colors, etc.

Meanwhile I just followed Brian around making lascivious comments about his butt. It was weird. I felt like someone's creepy sugardaddy (except let's be real, I'm not paying for this). Like, you always hear stories about rich men taking hot women shopping and then just creepily watching them try on sexy clothes and suddenly I understand the appeal. By the time I half-jokingly but mostly seriously asked Brian to "take off his jacket and sling it over his shoulder like he was in a catalog" I realized I miiiiight be out of control.

But seriously, wedding guests, you're in for a treat with this suit. That booty is A+!

Oh, and also while I was there they offered me a glass of water and OBVIOUSLY I spilled the entire thing on the floor and almost used my scarf to mop it up before anyone saw but luckily someone stopped me before I ruined yet another piece of clothing doing what a paper towel could do so much better.

Then later, I pulled my wallet out of my pocket to put in the stylist's business card and dropped a panty liner on the floor right in front of him. Smooth.

Those were the actual points of this story, but then I got sidetracked being creepy about butts.

You know me!

Shut it down, Liz. Shut it down.

And that's that! What are you guys up to this weekend? I was supposed to go hiking but now it's going to rain all weekend (don't even get me started on you, Mother Nature!) so now we're searching for an indoor urban adventure instead. Any suggestions?

Have the funnest weekend, whatever you do, and if you enter any weird raffles, I sure hope you win!

xoxoxo Liz

Another Awkward Week [3.14.14]

Happy Pi Day, nerds! We at the Scottenadel household celebrated in style: 20140314_080626

Of course we have a Pi Day mug. Marrying a math teacher has its perks!

(PS look at that face! Such a studmuffin, I can't even handle it.) (PSS: sorry! Can't help myself!)

How was everyone's week? Mine was fine! I feel like it was fast? I can barely remember what happened! A blur of wildly vacillating temperatures and Buzzfeed Quizzes. I just took this one: Which Queen of Comedy Are You and got Julia Louis Dreyfus! I feel pretty OK about that.

Who are you?!

Let's move it right on along, Comedy Queens, and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Bathroom:

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The ladies' room in our office is a complete hellscape - the toilets never seem to be flushed and there's always mysterious water all over the ground and the lighting in the mirror area makes everyone look like extras from The Walking Dead. The worst.

Also, the locks on the stall doors never seem quite secure, like, for example, this week when I was doing my thang and the stall door next to me slammed a little bit, the momentum of which slipped my door right out of the locked position and started swinging it open.

NIGHTMARE OF NIGHTMARES.

I managed to stop it & slam it back shut before anyone saw anything too graphic but YIKES. There is no safe space in this world! I would consider  taking a pay cut (jk never) if it meant budget to fix this bathroom, it is truly a palace of horrors. 

This Snack:

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We had a pizza lunch at work the other day and a noon I was staaaarving, so I confirmed with my assistant what time we were eating. If it was 1 PM, I'd eat my healthy apple. If it was 12:30, I'd hold out.

12:30 it was! I'd hold out.

Until I went into my office & spotted the bag of Doritos leftover from our Valentines' Day Chip & Dip Extravanga hidden in a corner where I'd stashed them February 15 to avoid shoving them all in my face in a fit of madness. But oh no: the fit of madness had snuck in anyway! I took one handful, re-hid the bag and got to work.

Then snuck back for one more handful! And then just...one...more...and then I shut my office door and hid at my desk hoovering Doritos until Margaret knocked and walked in to announce the pizza had arrived and caught me red-handed.

Err...orange handed. Literally.

And then later that night, this happened...

This Photo:

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That horrible moment when you turn on your camera and realize it's still switched to selfie mode and you see what your real face look like in repose.

ALL the yikes in the world can't even begin to describe this.

This Laundry:

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Remember how proud I was last week of my Mental Health Day on Monday (Otherwise known as "take-a-break-before-you-shiv-somebody" day per Ross or "lay in bed with your fiance like the grandparents from Willie Wonka" according to my friend Danny) and how I did all that laundry? WELL said laundry hung to dry in our living room for a cool 6 days later until someone (me) finally put it away.

I guess I just need to take another mental health day ... one to do the laundry...and then one to fold it. One to put it away. One to iron the fancy stuff. One to rest after all that work. Oh look, I'm retired! Goodbye, corporate world, you've been real.

This Sink:

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Last week I went to not one but two different Asian restaurants and both of them had really fancy sinks. I'm not trying to racially generalize here, I'm just sayin' that was some rad sinnkage.

The first place was a terrible and I mean TERRIBLE estalishment in Chinatown that served undercooked pork dumplings and probably poisoned us all. Their sink was bright blue and shiny, it looked like it was made with ferrari material, and you turned on the water using a joystick. A literal joystick, like you'd use for videogames. It was awesome.

The second place was a delish Sushi spot in Park Slope that I love to visit except whenever I get sushi I eat wahaaaay too much because it seems like it won't fill you up and then wham it totally does and  then Brian's like "hey it's Friday, let's get busy" and I have to be like "no to the way, Jose." There is nothing less of an aphrodisiac than a stomach full of sushi. Is it just me? Is this 15,000% too much information? ALWAYS.

Anyway, their sink is the art deco delight pictured above. It had a regular handle that you flipped up to turn the water on and then moved side to side to change the temperature. How you turn it off is a total mystery to me. I stood in the bathroom for several minutes turning the knob left, right, up down, front to back side to side and the water just kept on running, so I left it run, went back to the table, got my phone, took this photo, moved it around some more and finally, miracle of miracles, the water stopped.

It wasn't just me, I'm happy to report. My friend went in after me and she TOO had issues working the sink so we're blaming it allll on the mechanics of the sink. We're perfect.

Semi related, I'm now majorly jonesing for some eel avocado. Is 9:15 AM too soon? What do Japanese people eat for breakfast?

Life is full of questions!

Aaaand I'm done before I start sharing more weird information about my intimate life and / or inappropriate breakfast cravings. What's new with you chickies? Any big weekend plans? ST PATRICK'S DAY! Get that green beer y'all.

Luck o' the Awkward,

Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [3.7.14]

Guten Morgen, Jorgens! That might be German...might be gibberish. How was everyone's week? Mine was fast and productive, just the way I like it, wink. Sorry, gross.  I actually played hooky on Monday...except it was my boss's idea (apparently my fragile emotional state is more obvious that I'd like to admit?!) (don't worry, I'm finally seeking profesh help...more on that later) (parenthesis!) so it was less hooky and more approved personal day but, tomato tomahto. It was amazing. I slept in, until 8:30, which is late for me, did 4 loads of laundry, including our kitchen floor mat which, do you guys wash your kitchen mats?? How often? I think this was the first time since we moved in last August yiiiiikes. I did a little writing, which I promise you'll see soon, cooked a healthy meal, cleaned out my closet, caught up on Scandal, it was divine.

I then came back to work on Tuesday and have been Getting. Shit. Done. Boom!

So! If you can get away with it, professionally sanctioned or no, I'd highly recommend sneaking in a mental health slash get your life together day. I feel so much more on top of everything, calmer, clearer-headed. It's a miracle!

Never fear, though, productive certainly does not mean smooth, so why don't we go to the tapes & take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Dinner:

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Did y'all know that yesterday was the 50th Anniversary of the Invention of the Buffalo Wing? Move over Wright Brothers, Steve Jobs, etcetera...Teressa Bellissamo is truly America's greatest inventor.

As you know, I love buffalo wings almost as much as I love my own family, but I didn't know about this anniversary until late yesterday afternoon, when my friend Kathleen emailed me a link and suggested we should celebrate. I told her I wouldn't be able to last night...

Why? She asked?

I had to go home and put away my laundry...and I had turkey defrosting that I really should cook so...

29 going on 64.

Shut it down.

Kathleen helpfully stepped in with a You're in your 20's, Childless, in one of the Greatest Cities in America, Live a Little Intervention, and we celebrated like kings! Greasy, meat-eating kings.

It's important to surround yourself with good friends who will remind you how lame you are.

These Boots:

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Reason #19086 this godforsaken winter needs to come to an end: I have actual holes in the bottom of my shoes. I look like I just stepped out of, like, Angela's Ashes. I'm too cheap/lazy/sick of winter apparel to get a new pair so...hurry on up, spring, there's snow seeping into my socks!

This Still Life, With Garbage:

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Last night I spilled some water in my purse, as one does, and when I dumped out the contents to dry them off, realized I had a lot of, shall we say, useless trash floating around in there.

I am always fascinated by these clearly staged bits that fashion mags do with celebrities where they ask them what's inside their handbag and the answer is always like, La Mer Handcream (is that even a thing?) and some antique gilded compact mirror that their great-grandmother got from Marie Antoniette herself and 3-5 shades of Nars Lipstick and exactly zero old bandaids or anything a (hopefully?!) normal person might carry around and even though I know it's all fakey-fake, I can't help feeling a little blue about my own nice possessions, or lack thereof. No Mas!

Wihtout further ado, here's what I, Liz Ho, Normal Person, carry around in MY handbag:

Basically L-R, from the top:

Row 1: Pack of tissues printed to look like a snowman, PILE of used tissues, cortisone cream for bug bites, a pile of work papers and on top of them a plastic mermaid and a plastic cactus that were put in my margarita a happy hour many weeks ago and I thought were cute so I took them home, wallet

Row 2: post-it note from one of my many trips to the T-Mobile store where I apparently practiced writing my current name and possible married name in cursive (busted!), two notebooks, one of which started as an old food journal during my cleansing days so in between to-do lists are lists of what I ate and when and then also the exit portion of the digestive process; a salt grinder from Trader Joe's, ONE nude knee high stocking

Row 3: Shout Wipes, hair clips, a packet of bandaids + a few floaters, my blackberry which has not worked in weeks and I keep meaning to get fixed but I love the feeling of freedom that comes from not being able to use it, a travel container of earplugs, my kindle (currently reading a new Sarah Waters novel, coming in September!), on top of the Kindle we have a paring knife which Brian saw and asked me why I was carrying around a shiv,  and a number of old reciepts, several of which are from the wine store

Row 4: An assortment of feminine hygiene products, a promotional screen cleaner that my mom got at a conference and put in my stocking, used Amtrak ticket, stub from a reimbursement check from work, some kind of letter from the health insurance company

Row 5: expired Starbucks gift card, smashed piece of caramel, two empty birth control packets + one currently in rotation, one zillion pens, old nail file that is too worn down to file

Annnnnd THERE YA HAVE IT! What's in YOUR purse? I'm seriously dying to know. The Hairpin did a great series of this a few years ago...let's start another!

This Gift:

Ok...I need to start this with some text & lead up to the good stuff.

I've mentioned our landlady here, she of the amazing decor, and I fear I've come off snarkier than I mean to be. I genuinely treasure her, she's been a fantastic landlord and I appreciate living in the most festive house on the block. We're going to have to move this year, a fact which I will discuss with you later, as I am currently repressing it, so I think we're all getting a little sentimental.

Por ejemplo, Connie is super excited that we're getting married, which is adorable, and this past weekend, I opened our apartment door to find a gift bag hanging on the handle.

What could it be?! 'Twas a gift from Connie.

I first pulled out a beautiful card in a silver envelope , reading "Elizabeth & Brian, I'm going to miss you guys...as you see, I'm making a prediction..."

A prediction?!

From the bag, I pull two frames, wrapped in tissue. The first, a gorgeous, sparkly silver frame, the kind in which you might put your formal wedding photos. I love it!

The second, well, see for yourself:

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Guessing the prediction is baby related? No pressure. I thought the baby questions would wait until at least a day or so after the wedding.

I told a friend about this last night & she said now I'll probably think of Connie every time we're getting busy. Hadn't taken it that far, pal, but now I sure will. Hopefully those multiple packets of BC I've been carrying around do their job and this predic doesn't come true for many, many a year.

I do tease, but seriously how sweet is this? Commence WHY MUST WE MOVE?!?! panic in 4-3-2-1...AAAH!

And that, good sirs, was my week! What are you all up to this weekend? Conceiving some children, maybe? Good luck with that! I'm going to a work event tonight (voluntarily! Toldja I was on the up & up!), hopefully running outside, as the temps may finally rise above 31 farenheit, and Briguy and I may possibly do a little wedding gift registering so fire up those credit cards, America, mama needs a new paring knife, she's been using hers as a shiv!

Hoping you have a delightful weekend, whatever it may entail and don't forget to Spring Forward!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [2.28.14]

Hello, buttercups! How was everyone's week? I'm feeling moderately scattered but really, really looking forward to putting February behind us. March is already promising to ROAR in like a lion with a snowstorm this weekend but, like I've said many a time before, complaining about the weather is bo-ring soooo I'll just do that silently and start working on a little voodoo dance to bring on the sunshine and warm weather.

I'll video-tape it, I promise!

What else is new? Oscars are on Sunday!! I just realized that I saw literally two new movies in 2013, Her, which is actually awesome and a critically acclaimed gem and should win some awards and I feel very proud of myself for having seen it because generally speaking, I only like crap movies, and also The Hunger Games: Catching Fire which was, of course, a masterpiece and is being ROBBED by the academy! Robbed, I say.

My goal for 2014 is to see more smart person movies. So far I have one theater film under my belt and it is Disney's Frozen so...off to a GREAT start, Liz.

It's 9:30 AM and I can't stop eating stale candy hearts.

I'm rambling. Let's put a silencio on this nonsense and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Subway Pole:

What I meant to grab a hold of to steady myself mid-commute.

What I actually grabbed: the handle of an umbrella a fellow commuter had tucked into the side pocket of his backpack.

He was NOT amused.

Photo obviously stolen from the internet, I was far too frazzled in the moment to snap an original masterpiece.

This Couch:

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In my sister's living room in South Philly.

Magnadoodle lives in the CUTEST row home in the Iladeph with a pal of hers and I stayed there on Friday night en-route to Etown for some family stuff. She was getting ready to set the couch for me to sleep on, but I was too chicken to sleep in the living room all by myself, so I made her let me sleep in her bed upstairs.

The couch was downstairs! All alone! RIGHT by the door and a giant picture window and just one room away from the kitchen which has another door which means there were at least three easy ways for murders to climb in and get me.

NO SIR I would not sleep there.

When I first moved to New York, people would ask me if I was scared to live in a such a big and dangerous city and the answer is always no way. Cities don't scare me. I feel like there are so many people, the odds of me getting singled out by a serial killer is probably way less.  I know that Law and Order should prove this theory incorrect BUT conversely, I've seen every single episode of Criminal Minds AND read In Cold Blood so I'm pretty confident in my assertion that the most psycho of killers love open space. The country? HORRIFYING. The bigger the house and the more space surrounding, I think the more opportunities for murderers to sneak up unnoticed and take me back to their Saw dungeon. Maggie's house isn't even remotely in the middle of nowhere, it's a freaking row home, literally surrounded on all sides by other homes, most of them filled with older Italian grannies who love nothing more than spying out their front windows and would most certainly catch the predator before he entered the home and murdered me, but there was still no way JOSE I was sleeping on that couch.

I am a real treat to have around guys. A real treat!

This List:

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Draft One of my extremely long Wedding To Do List. I wrote this out on the train from Pennsylvania last weekend with the help of my sister and then went home and typed it up.

(Allow me to quickly brag here that I am really, really good at making lists. Checking them off is more of a gamble but OH I can craft a finely detailed list like nobody's business. I take weird pride in this skill so just wanted to toot my own horn a little bit. Keep that ego up, ya know?!)

Sometimes when I'm making lists or writing notes or just going about my day-to-day life, I'll do little jokes with myself that make me laugh and are probably stupid but I crack myself up. This particular list was broken down into categories, the first of which was attire. Item one on the list was Liz's Attire, so I wrote what I still need:

Shoes, Accessories and lingerie.

Lingerie I wrote just to be fancy, as my friend and I are currently working on patenting (DON'T STEAL IT!!!) a line of bedazzled bridal spanx so that future brides can feel festive and fancy while still keeping it tight.

Next on the list was Brian's attire, so I wrote: Shoes, Suit, Shirt, Tie ...and then just to make myself laugh, I added "sexy male underwear."

And then sent the list to my mom.

Luckily we have a good relationship and she knows I'm a super weirdo and not easily embarrassed - the very first thing she mentioned when we next spoke on the phone was the Sexy Male Underwear.  Now it's all I can think about when I think about wedding planning and I just crack up.

Poor Brian. This is mostly just embarrassing for him. He has such a long life ahead of him, marrying me!

These Magazines:

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Or rather, how I came to acquire them.

As you know, my job sometimes requires me to wine and dine various members of the media which, for the most part is pretty fun. You get to expense lunch or wine (or both!) and meet new people and then campaigns are more successful because they can put a face to the name when we pitch them, and also we've just bribed them with food and/or alcohol.

But for the other part, it's just painfully, horribly uncomfortable. It's like going on a first date, except in addition to just appearing like a normal human yourself, you ALSO have to be professional and represent your company in a positive light.

Nightmare.

The other week we had a party for one of our authors (after which I fell on the ice, if you'll recall) and I met a friend of hers there who is the editor for a very cool magazine called Mental Floss. We hit it off and set up a lunch date for this week to talk books and magazines and what have you. We were meeting at this cute cafe called Westville in Chelsea and I was running late. I burst into the restaurant a few minutes after 12:30 and realized: I completely forgot what this woman looked like.

I knew she was a white person. POSSIBLY a brunette. Other than that, she could have been anyone.

I gave my name to the hostess and started awkwardly looking around the restaurant. There was one gal sitting at a two-top in the corner, her face slightly blocked by another guest's head. I started to walk towards her to get a better look when the hostess stopped me.

"Oh, that woman is dining alone."

Ok, I thought, not my girl.

I sat at the bar for a few moments, scanning the room. I spotted another solo woman seated further down the bar playing with her phone. I bored holes into the side of her face with my eyes, trying to get her to look up and somehow she'd realize it was me! Or she'd be like "WTF, freak, and I'd know she wasn't my gal."

She did not look up so I tentatively walked in her direction, when the bartender gave his head a silent shake and mouthed "she's not who you're meeting."

First the hostess...then the bartender. This whole staff was WAY TOO aware that I had absolutely no clue was was going on in my life.

I returned to my perch at the end of the bar and tried to pull up my work email, which was being persnickety, so I google imaged my lunch date. I had just confirmed via the googs that she was, indeed, a brunette white lady, when I heard a voice say my name.

In front of me both on the internet AND in the flesh was my lunch date...the very first woman I spotted, who the hostess had assured me was not who I was there to see. She'd been sitting in the corner the whole time, I guess waiting for me to notice her, as I wandered around the establishment like a very sad and lonely headless chicken.

In the end, she was super-duper nice and I think seems like the kind of gal who knows her way around a slightly awkward social situation (I hope she would take that as a compliment!!) but I learned a valuable lesson that day: always, always ALWAYS internet stalk everyone before you meet them in person. It may seem creepy but take it from me: it's necessary.

Annnnd that was my week. How was yours? Any fun plans for the weekend? I'm hoping to hit up Target, catch up with a pal in the neighborhood on Sunday and also have two birthday parties (POPULAR!!!), including one tomorrow night, a 30th, in Jersey City that starts at 9 PM. WHAT! Turning 30 means you finally have an excuse to start stuff at like 3 in the afternoon. 9 PM? Crazy. I'll be napping ALL afternoon Saturday, if anyone is looking for me. I long for the day when my friends finally catch up with my elderly sleep schedule.

Have a lovely weekend, sweet pals. DON'T watch Criminal Minds or Law and Order or anything really, except maybe Disney's Frozen because that movie is a gem and no one gets murdered! Spoiler alert.

xoxoxo Liz