My Friends Truly Understand Me

There's a website called F My Life where people can anonymously post the terrible things that happen to them on a daily basis. All the entries start with "Today", tell the short story, and end with "FML". My friend Emily was apparently browsing it today, when I got the following message on G-Chat:

Emily: Is this you?
Today, I had a very intense sexual dream that made me come and left me panting when I woke up. It was the best orgasm I'd ever had. The trouble was, it wasn't about a hot girl, or anything sexy. It was about bacon. FML

No, I am not sexually aroused by bacon. I just love it very very very much. Okay? ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Twenty Seven Stitches OR don't read this if you've just eaten lunch

Zoe and I, Summer 2008

When I was in the first grade we had to have bathroom buddies because unlike kindergarten, the bathrooms were down the hall and not in the classroom. My bathroom buddy was Zoe, and every time one of us had to pee we had to go together. Because we were six. The other thing about bathroom buddies was that it meant you always had an audience when performing stupid stunts. The most popular of these stunts was keeping the door locked from the inside, putting one foot on the toilet, the other on the lock and then launching yourself over the door. It was impressive and annoying!

Right before Memorial Day weekend 1991, Zoe and I got stuck in the stall. Being that I was A) wearing my favorite shirt (a yellow Lacoste pocket tee) and B) had done it a million times before, I decided to launch myself over the door, rather than crawling under it. Well, like so many other things in my life, (see Wrestling, Rooftop) it didn't go quite as well for me that time. Somehow or another I lost my balance in the middle of this act (I still think Zoe pushed the door, she says she didn't) and landed, armpit first, on the blunt coat hook. Dazed and bleeding, Zoe and I started to leave the bathroom when


Disclaimer: Okay, now I'm really serious about the Don't-Read-This-If-You've-Just-Had-Lunch thing...we're about to go gross...





a chunk of fat from my arm ended up in my mouth and I had to spit it out.

I'm serious. I have had human fat in my mouth. I wouldn't advise it.

Moving on!

Zoe and I made our way back to our classroom where my first grade teacher, Amy Blackwell, did not faint. Which is something I still look up to her for. From there things are a little blurry. I remember being in the principle's office where she held a wad of those school grade brown paper towels under my arm until the paramedics got there. I remember my father arriving on unicycle, and I remember that I was laughing by the time I got into the ambulance. I also remember getting a huge shot in my leg to knock me out so they could stitch me up.

FUN!

Other than that I don't remember much. I'll still run into people who remember me bleeding on their desks...so that's fun.

Now go look at the picture in the top of the post again. That's me, Zoe, and the actual hook I landed on all those years ago. My mother doesn't find the humor in the photo. Zoe and I think it's awesome.

Thanks to The Garlic for inspiring this post. xo
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I am really good at making a FOOL of myself OR never shout "PIEGINA!" in a restaurant

So tonight? At Northeast Kingdom? Where Karin and I had dinner? I may or may not have shouted "PIEGINA!" way louder than I should have. Because I should not be allowed in public.

Basically what happened was this -

After an AWESOME meal of leeks vinaigrette, pork something or another, pork loin sandwich with apple and mustard on an English muffin and a chicken pot pie (and also champagne), I decided to order the banana creme pie. You know that point in a slice of pie when you've eaten the point off and it falls on its back? Insides up? Well, Karin saw this and said, "Look, it's exposing itself!" at which point I said, waaaaaaaay too loudly, "IT'S SHOWING US ITS PIEGINA." Because apparently my banana creme pie is a woman. A slutty slutty woman.

Yeah, not allowed around people.

Ever.

UPDATE: Karin pointed out that what she actually said was, "She's presenting herself to us" which makes the pie a lot sluttier than we originally thought.
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Actually:

Dear Friends:

Real Life or internet (and close by)
One of my resolutions this year is to be a better friend/see my friends more so....

If you want to have a home cooked meal that I have posted about, or would like to serve me one - let's work it out. I am all about cheap or not so cheap home cooked meals this year.

Let's switch off!

Or, if you are reading this and we don't know each other - think about doing a potluck. Or just a dinner party. For your friends! I think 2009 is a good year to be awesome. Awesome in a delicious way. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Just let me sit down for five minutes, okay?

So today!

9:00am - left the house

9:30am - Got to the office

9:30am-1:15pm - Sat at my desk, answered e-mails, responded to messages, etc. (Booooooring)

1:15pm-2:00pm (I shit you not) - Starbucks, back to my office with a botched order and BACK TO EFFING STARBUCKS. Longest. Coffee-run Ever.

2:00pm-4:30pm - Back at my desk...nothing to see here, move along. Oh, there was one thing - bought my ticket to CALIFORNIA! Woo hoo!

4:30pm - 4:45pm - Break! Lovely lovely break.

4:45pm - 5:45pm - Work! Showed off my Photoshop skills. Woo hoo!

5:45pm - 6:15pm - Running to the train and up to the garment district before my tailor closed.

6:15pm - Picked up my lovely well fitted bridesmaid dress for the Tigerlily-Boss wedding! (Which is Saturday. By the skin of my teeth, I know. Better late than never, right?)

6:30pm-7:30pm - Shot down to my mom's house, dropped off the dress, talked about the dress, changed my clothes, etc.

7:30pm - 9:30pm - Went to Union Square in hunt of shoes to wear with said bridesmaid dress. Went to five different stores. Ended up purchasing the first pair of shoes I saw at the first store I went to. Of course. Went to Barnes and Noble to find two books I desperately need. They were not in stock. Of course.

9:30pm - now. - Took train to my apartment, picked up a beer. Sat down and took a deep breath, updated blog, etc.

On the schedule for the rest of the evening? It gets better! (In that "this is going to suck" kind of way)

Finish beer and blog.
Throw some clothes in a bag.
High-tail it back to my mom's.
Throw together a two-page paper.
Do a touch of laundry.
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

I'm really looking forward to the sleep part.

My mother, my mother's best girlfriend (who happens to be male and straight), and Seth are all heading to the wedding together on Saturday afternoon. Finally, after much deliberation, my mother has decided on an outfit for the wedding which does not a)make her look old, b) make her look out of date or c) make me cringe. I'm very proud of her. It took a couple of tries. But she got it! Woo hoo! The men will most likely be wearing suits.

So, California...Though not the explicit purpose of the trip - I will be meeting Seth's parents and step-parents and grandparents for the first time while I am out there. Which is exciting! And also a little nerve racking. I know it shouldn't be a big deal and it's only fair since Seth has met, oh you know, my ENTIRE FAMILY. And he was fine! So I should be too! Right? Plus I get to see his brother again who I haven't actually seen since well before Seth and I got together. I'm looking forward to that, as well as seeing friends who have been out to visit New York in the past two years.

The other thing that makes me nervous? Meeting Seth's old friend and roommate who I'm (for no particular reason) completely convinced is going to hate me and stab me through the eye. Seth has not done much to quell these fears, though other friends of theirs have. I'm just completely convinced she's not going to like me, or think I'm good enough for her friend. or something. Paranoia much? Hello and welcome.

Oooooookay, back to running around.
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Things that are really not cool that have happened in the past week

-Amelia passing away. Not even passing away. Being killed. She was killed while riding her bike and it was shitty and scary and holy hell it could happen to any of us.

-Seeing a dead body for the first time. I have never, before last night, been at an open coffin anything. Amelia had one. And I was under the impression (because that's how it's shown in movies) that the bodies were fully IN the coffin and not propped up a bit so you can see them from anywhere in the room. I wrote about Amelia in this post. She was killed while riding her bicycle a week ago and it made me think about a lot of things. Those things include but are not limited to:
a) losing touch with friends and how shitty it is. This horrible tragedy brought a shit-ton of us together and I really wish it was under better circumstances.
b) how I never ever ever want to go to an open coffin anything ever again (girl was 24. Girl looked about 80 propped up for all of us to see. It didn't even look like her, besides the hair and clothing...it was awful)
c) How much people change.
d) How some people don't change at all.

- There was a mugging on my mother's block tonight. And the muggie happened to be a neighbor of mine whom I happened to have known for about ten years. Dude was mugged in front of our house and my mother had to call 9-1-1. I just ran into him and his parents coming home from the hospital. It is almost 5am. This is the neighborhood I grew up in and shit like this does not happen here. WTF?

-The X-Tina moved to Paris today. Which is actually very awesome, for her, but on top of everything else this week is kind of like, "really? Seriously? Just kick me in the shins!"

-----------------------------------

Mostly it has been a very strange/sad/insane week and I am tired, and sad, and freaked out.

And I guess that's it. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Pictures from my cellphone

1)
I really wish I could have gotten a better picture of this guy, and also of the entire crew he was with. Dude is wearing super wide leg pants that for some unknown reason had pockets on the back of his calves. Really big pockets that I can't even imagine the thought process behind unless it was something along the lines of, "Well we have all this extra denim lying about, let's just stick some right, um....here." That was enough to make me twitchy, but then I noticed that - crap and a half - he is also wearing bright fucking orange Crocs. And holding a badminton racket. Then, I look to the right and notice that, you guessed it, his buddy is also wearing Crocs. And THEN I realize that there are three girls with these guys and two of THEM are wearing Crocs. It seriously almost ruined my brunch. And brunch is my favorite meal of the week!

2)
A couple of weeks ago, in the supermarket, I noticed this while searching for a can of tuna. The second I saw it I thought to myself, "There is no way in hell this is what I think it is. No one could get away with it!" So I picked it up, and I turned it around slowly and, lo and behold, the only ingredient listed was "monosodium glutamate." So it was what I thought it was and apparently, yes, they can get away with it. Whoever "They" are.

3)
On Thursday night, because Friday was a holiday, I ended up ending the night on the roof of my old apartment building. We decided we were going to stay up until 6am to get breakfast from this place called Bill's down the block, which has the weirdest fucking hours in the world. They are open from 6am until about 2pm...when they feel like it. Which is horribly disappointing because they make one of the best bacon egg and cheese sandwiches in the city. So 6am rolls around and three of us (including me wearing those socks you see in the picture and a pair of my friend Shai's slip on Vans because the shoes I had been wearing since 10am decided that my feet were a delicious snack and destroyed them completely) trek down to Bill's. Which is closed because of the fourth of July. Maybe. It could just be that they didn't feel like it. You never know with Bill's. So we decided to find another place in the neighborhood where we can get our snack on. A strangely large amount of exceptionally friendly people were awake in Bushwick at 6am on a Friday morning, so they tried to point us in the direction of snacks. Nothing was open. So, because Shai and his friend Michael both work in Kitchens, we decided to get a dozen eggs, a pound of bacon, some cheese and a baguette. Shai and Michael made the group a giant bacon egg and cheese sandwich and it was awesome.

By the time this picture was taken I had decided that I was sleeping on the roof, in the hammock, and it was going to be super awesome. Which is probably would have been, but about 30 minutes into my sleep it decided to rain, so Shai made me go back downstairs. I fought it, but in the end it was probably the best decision. I can't even imagine the sunburn I would have woken up with.Oh wait. Yes I can. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Another weekend of madness

My weekend had all the elements of a good soap opera. There were reconciliations, cutting of ties, unexpected occurrences, surprise guests, and various other things that I, of course, can not blog about. (I'm a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in an AWESOME rack.)

Actually, a short bit about the cutting of ties, mostly because I want to make very clear that I had nothing to do with it. I have this thing about me where I like to stay in touch with my ex boyfriends. Mostly because, as I figure it, if someone meant a lot to you they should continue to mean a lot to you, even if you aren't sleeping together anymore. (Unless they, I don't know, raped your puppy or something.) Apparently not everyone feels this way, which I understand. Sort of. I just don't like losing touch with people, especially people who I thought were awesome enough to spend a ridiculous amount of time on. So yeah...end of rant.

Anywaaaaaaaaaaaay...

The weekend, she was insane. On Thursday and Friday I had Jury Duty which was completely uneventful because everyone was settling out of court so as not to be stuck in the city over Fourth of July Weekend. Which is, well, shitty. On Friday night it was time for Fireworks at Coney Island! MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL! Except, well, I got to Coney Island at 7pm and nobody else got there until 9pm. So I took some photobooth pictures by myself...because I'm a nerd. Then, FINALLY, people showed up and the fireworks started and, as usual, they were effing amazing. Seriously, if you happen to be in NYC on a Friday and have not made it down there for these, please please please make the effort. For starters, Coney Island is not nearly as far away as it's made out to be. Seriously. And secondly - beer + fireworks + RIDES + FIREWORKS + photobooths + Fireworks + More beer and Chilidogs = slightly different and more fun than your normal Friday Night plans.

Plus, you get lovely souvenirs like these:

(I'm just happy I managed to keep my eyes open on both rides. And also - didn't ride on the back of the cyclone this time...because, holy SHIT. Never again)

On Saturday I had brunch, and went to the MoMA where I saw a really cool exhibit by Olafur Eliasson, the guy who put a waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge. You walked into the exhibit via a hallway lined with yellow lights that made everything look like it was in black and white. Which was slightly eerie because you were suddenly stuck in an old movie. (I was told about the exhibit by the woman from Jury Duty who I had lunch with on Friday. This same woman, after hearing about my mother, walked up to her on the street today and said, "Are you related to Sarah?" No joke. Apparently my mother and I do look alike, though I still think I look like my father.) There was a circular room that changed color and made everyone in it change color which was pretty cool, and there was also a room with falling water and strobe lights that looked like glitter. It was worth the trip, but unfortunately is closing tomorrow, so unless you've got the day free you won't see it.

From the museum I endured torrential downpours and ended up at a Korean BBQ restaurant for a party that was half celebrating a birthday and half sending off a friend of mine who decided to leave NY before he was deported. It. Was. Ridiculous. We ate an amazing amount of food including pork belly, which is seriously one of the best things ever. This is because it is essentially bacon and I will eat anything involving bacon. (A coworker of mine once remarked that he would probably eat a turd if it was covered in bacon. Because, dude. BACON!) From there we walked down to the east village where we all drank what was probably far too much and then a small group of us ended up on the roof of the friend who moved today to watch the sunrise. And also to eat sandwiches and drink absolutely terrible blueberry beer. I got home far, far too late.

Today was Gay Pride Day which involved fruitlessly looking for a street fair with X-tina (my best friend and furure maid of honor), and heading to the Tigerlily's for a bit before coming back downtown for more fireworks. Last year the Pride fireworks were terrible and lasted approximately three minutes before pooting out quietly, so this year they made up for it by having a barge slowly moving downt the Hudson River shooting off a spectacular show for over half an hour. It ruled.

And now, I think it's bedtime. I haven't gotten nearly enough sleep and my head is relatively jumbled from this weekend's events. I can has snow day?

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Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

When I was fifteen or sixteen years old my high school held a voluntary trip up to SUNY Oswego so we could "experience college life." Girls thought, "Oh my God! College Guys!" And guys thought, "Sweet! College girls!" And a lot of us also thought, "Hooray beer!" This trip was to take place on a Thursday and Friday, so on top of everything else we would be missing two days of school. Almost the entire grade convinced their parents to let them go on this trip. "We want to see what college classes are like and learn about the application process! We really, truelym desperately want to talk to people who have been where we are now! Our attendance on this trip has nothing to do whatsoever with our desire to attack attractive and older people, nor does it have anything to do with our desire to drink illegally!" We all batted our eyelashes very well.

During the one night we stayed up there very few of us slept, two guys got so stoned they were falling into things, and we drank a lot of beer. (Well, a lot then. I think a guy named Jimmy topped out at three beers and threw up. We were fifteen! Maybe sixteen! Give us a break!) Other NYC public high schools (the private school sect tends to shy away from public universities) were also invited on this excursion, so our pool of potentially attractive people shot up remarkably. A bunch of us were sitting in a dorm room talking when one of the girls, from one of these other schools, while slightly drunk, decided to address the group with a serious inquiry.
"Do you want to go to a urban school or a woo woo school?" Confused glances were exchanged between myself and the other people she was addressing.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Do you want to go to an urban school or a woo woo school?"
"I..." I paused. "A what?"
"Woo woo! Woo woo! I can't say it right!" She looked upset with herself.
Someone else finally ventured a guess. "Do you mean rural?"
"Yes! Woo woo! That's what I meant!" At which point we all dissolved into giggles. Poor girl.

I got home the next day, absolutely exhausted and damning myself for making plans to go to a rave that night. But I was a raver, and a lot of people I knew were going to be at the party, so I got dressed up in a very silly outfit, far too much plastic jewelry, and about a pound of glitter. (I spent most of my time from the ages of 12-16 absolutely fucking COVERED in glitter. ::barf::) I got to the party at about ten and by eleven thirty I was all tuckered out. So instead of going home like I should have, I simply found a nice corner and went to sleep. At a rave. With music so loud most people were wearing earplugs. But oh no, I just went, "Well this looks nice! I think I'll just curl up...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

I bring all this up because last night my friend Matty and his roommate Jim threw a movie watching extravaganza on their roof. We watched an episode of The Real Ghostbusters cartoon, followed by Ghostbusters, followed by Ghostbusters II. It was really really awesome. I announced to Matty and Jim early on in the evening that I was crashing on their couch because while I only live a ten minute walk away, it is not a ten minute walk I should be taking at one in the morning. Because eek! Scary! So halfway through Ghostbusters II I excused myself to pass out on the couch. I woke up at seven this morning to Matty going, "Sarah! It's seven am, my alarm didn't go off!" (Dude has to be at work ridiculously early.) I gathered my things while he got ready and he goes, "Dude, Sarah. You were OUT last night. We had like twenty people in the apartment and you didn't wake up at all. I kept saying, 'guys, there's a girl asleep on the couch!' and they kept saying, 'She's not awake.'" Because I can sleep through anything.

The reason for this is because when I was growing up, and my parents were invited to a party, babysitters were expensive. So rather than get one, they would simply drag me along for the ride. When I got tired I would go up to one of them and tug on their shirt and say, "I'm tired!" At which point they would direct me to a corner, give me their coat to sleep on and let me sleep. Which I would, quite happily. I have vague memories of being carried out of parties (as a child, people! Come on!) and waking up to say things like, "Oh, are we leaving?" And then waking up in my own bed in the morning. I was actually trained by my parents to be able to sleep through anything. Which might explain my inability to work with alarm clocks. I hear them, but it's just so much easier to keep sleeping. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

As Requested

Popular girl that I am, I've been asked by two lovely ladies to be a bridesmaid this year. The Tigerlily, and my friend Karin who just got hitched in the Caribbean. (I might have mentioned it.) I have heard many horrible stories of bridesmaid dresses gone awry, and I thank my lucky stars that this is not something I have had to deal with firsthand. (Seriously, the stories...the PICTURES...holy God.) I, because my friends have impeccable taste, have two lovely VERA WANG Bridesmaid Dresses. TWO. And they are PRETTY and I LOVE them AND I will wear them again. How often can a bridesmaid say that? Hah!

Anywho, because some of my other maids and I have the humor of a twelve year old boy, Vera Wang has been shortened to "The Wang." Or "My Wang." But because I have two there has to be some differentiation, so there is my Tiny Gold Wang and my Large Green Wang. I have two Wangs! Hooray! (Bwahahaha, two wangs...bwahahahahaha). Yeah, am twelve.

On that note, here are some more pictures from the wedding! In the Caribbean! That I went to! YES!

The Happy Couple...Being Adorable, as per usual.

The Ladies!
From L to R - Colleen(Karin's Cousin), Yours Truly, Pat (The Groom's Mother), Karin, Judy (The Bride's Mother), Lindsey (Maid of Honor), and Nora (Karin's Aunt)

The Bride and her ladies.

Karin and Her Dad, mostly because I wanted to post another picture of her dress because OMG THE DRESS. (I'm going to steal it to get married in I love it so much)

And finally, the whole group. Don't we look fun? (And pretty and nice...haha)

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I'm freezing my tits off!

Seriously...it is SO COLD IN MY OFFICE and my dumb-ass doesn't have a cardigan (or an effing winter coat) with me. Dammit.

Hey, look up there! A new banner. Hooray!

This weekend I did that thing where I try to do everything and now I feel gross. (I'm also pretty sure I smell pretty gross right now. I showered this morning, but then forgot deodorant...oops.)

On Friday night there was a going away party for a friend of mine who has decided that because he doesn't want to be deported, he's going to leave the states before they can kick him out. The attendees were almost entirely people I hung out with in high school. (Not people I went to high school with, because most of the people from my high school were exceptionally lame. This group of dudes were the people I chose to hang out with in high school.) I was really nervous about going to this party because it had a really good chance of becoming a drama fueled nightmare.

A couple of ex-couples + a couple of crushes x a lot of booze = drama waiting to happen.

But then it didn't. And the night ended up being really really fun and I didn't throw up or shake violently and it was awesome. Some people threw up, but it had nothing to do with nerves and a whole lot to do with tequila. I also managed to close a door on my foot which caused a hole in my ankle which is now oozy and gross. It hurts like hell. So that's fun.

I just sneezed all over my hand. Ew.

Saturday I went to the Mermaid Parade which I had never been to before despite spending most of my life in New York City. It was...well, mostly it was hard to see. We got there too late to get a good spot because I really enjoy sleeping. So we wandered around and ate burgers, and Nathan's, and corn-dogs and shish-ke-bob (or shish-KA-bab...or Shishkibeb...depending on the place on the boardwalk to went to...there is also a bar called Cha Cha's with "Entertainment For The Hole Family!" They aren't very big on spell check, apparently.) and drank beers. After all that my friend Dan and I went on the Log Flume, The Scrambler and The Cyclone. As a girl who does not do roller coasters, I have been on the Cyclone twice now. Here's last year:
Don't I look like I'm having an awesome time? Or pooping? Or about to burst into tears? Weirdly enough, right after this photo was taken I started having a good time and actually enjoying the ride instead of wanting it to be over and wanting to get out now now now. I think this was because, as you'll notice, we were right in the front of the car. And the ride was relatively smooth. This time, however, my friend Dan and I decided to ride about three cars from the back and OH MY GOD I thought I was going to DIE. I swear we jumped the tracks at one point and Dan almost FLEW OUT OF HIS SEAT. Was terrible and terrifying and I am never riding on the damn back again. The front...maybe, but certainly not the back.

Look at me, Ma! I want to ride roller coasters! (I think my mother just had a small heart attack. She was always so proud of me for inheriting her love of the merry-go-round.)

And then Sunday was another loverly day at the Tigerlily's where we ate an amazing roast pork shoulder and risotto which I loved which was odd because I don't LIKE risotto. So yeah, if Tigerlily and The Boss invite you over for dinner? Don't ask questions, just go. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

On moving to Boston.

On January 1st 2003 I moved from New York City to Boston Massachusetts to attend Northeastern University. What you see above is exactly what I looked like when I arrived. Short, messy black hair, cat-eye glasses, swollen lips, and a bruise the size of Jupiter on my chin. I was a sexy sexy beast. Let me tell you why I looked like that.

On December 31st 2002 it was really warm out. Freakishly warm. Approximately 50 degrees, if I remember correctly. Because of this the party I was at spilled out of the apartment and on to the roof. It was gorgeous outside and we were drunk, so it seemed like a wonderful idea! While up there a guy named Brett (who was approximately 5'6") was bet $20 that he could not beat a girl named Lizzie (who was approximately 6'1") in a wrestling match. He took the bet and the rest of the party gathered around to watch. (Again, we were happy about the weather and, oh man, druuunk.) So Brett and Lizzie wrestled and Brett won to the sound of boos and jeers coming from the female members of the crowd. Now all the girls want to wrestle this dude. One after another went up, and all of them lost. One, two, three, four, five...he took them all out. One after another. So I decide to go up. I had been drinking vodka cranberry's pretty steadily for approximately five hours at this point and it seemed like an AWESOME idea. As you may have judged from the picture above: it was not.

Brett and I began to wrestle and he (after what could only have been thirty seconds) pinned me. I. Was. Pissed. So I ran...and I dove...and Brett moved. And I dove face first into the roof. I don't think I will ever forget the "OOHHHHHHHHH!" from the crowd that followed that spectacular face-plant. I left the party in tears. My left hand was swollen to twice its normal size. My knees had criss-cross bruises on them from my fishnet stockings. My feet were killing me from the four inch heels I was wearing. Oh yes. I rooftop wrestled a dude while wearing a skirt and heels. I am one classy bitch.

The next morning I woke up in a horribly painful fog. My friend Will was going to be there to pick my mother and I up in less than an hour and I was not done packing! So I threw the last of my stuff into a suitcase and hauled it downstairs. (I did not shower. I threw on some clothes and tried not to throw up) When Will arrived we discovered that my suitcases? That I had spent the last week packing? Would not fit in the car. In a last minute hungover decision my mother and I shoved everything into garbage bags and shoved them into the trunk. Guh.

Approximately four hours and one stop at McDonald's later, we arrived in front of my new dorm. Will helped us drag the bags and my desk top(!) computer up to the third floor and left us to head to his own dorm. My mother and I were confronted with an entirely blond family. My roommate, her mother, her older brother and her little sister. We were confronted with a flowered designer comforter and fucking pink TOE-SHOES hanging from the bed. Keep in mind that I am at this point dark haired and had an almost entirely black wardrobe. I have not showered. I probably reeked of vodka. They all introduced themselves and announced quite happily that they were going to Target. (Pronounced "Tar-jay"). After the door clicked shut my mother lit a cigarette, turned to me and said, "This is not going to work."

Luckily, she was wrong and my first college roommate and I are still good friends. But our first meeting always makes for one heck of a story. ♦DiggIt! ♦Add to del.icio.us ♦Add to Technorati Faves

Old News

I was raised agnostic with a hint of quaker (I came very close to typing "quacker" there, hmmmm). There was never any question about God existing, just as there was never any question about being nice to people. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Is very simple. Plus Quaker meetings are so lovely. Quiet and peaceful and usually in a nice sunlit room. There is no singing and no one makes you do anything. You can just sit and think for an hour or so and it is nice nice nice. As such, whenever someone asks about religion I usually reply "Quaker!" Because it is easier. This, unfortunately, tends to bring on the following questions:

1) Do you eat a lot of oatmeal?
Har har. Yes, but it has nothing to do with religion.

and, my personal favorite:

2) Are you Amish?
Why yes! I knitted this outfit myself! Zippers and all!


Anyway, I went to a Quaker sleep-away camp between the ages of 13 and 16, but because it was sleep-away camp everyone was Jewish. Go figure. I found a conversation I had with one of my friends from camp on AIM a couple of years ago, and thought I would share. Because I still think it's funny.

[05:06PM] Sarah: GOD CAN'T TYPE
[05:06PM] Emily: god can do anything he wants
[05:07PM] Emily: blasphemy
[05:07PM] Emily: god can too type
[05:07PM] Emily: you're going to hell
[05:08PM] Sarah: HAHAHA
[05:08PM] Sarah: you know what I mean!
[05:08PM] Sarah: AND You'RE A JEW
[05:08PM] Emily: HEATHEN!
[05:09PM] Sarah: JEW
[05:09PM] Emily: yeah what you gonnna do about it quaker? fight me?
[05:09PM] Emily: PACIFIST!
[05:09PM] Sarah: DAMN YOU
[05:09PM] Emily: go make some oatmeal


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Snot the color of Mountain Dew

On Saturday night Seth and I went to Studio B in Brooklyn to go dancing with some of his friends who were in town. When Seth and I first got there it was almost completely empty, which was fine with us because it gave us plenty of room to dance. I hate going out to a place that is so cramped I can barely move, let alone get my freak on. (Yes, I did just say "get my freak on." Shut up.)

Anywaaaaaaay...

As the night went on more people showed up, including Techno Viking. Well, someone who danced and looked almost exactly like Techno Viking at least. Don't know who Techno Viking is? Prepare to be amazed:



That, my friends, is Techno Viking.

At Studio B Seth accidentally bumped into Techno Viking 2.0 and he GRABBED SETH BY THE ARMS AND MOVED HIM. So. Effing. Scary. We also watched him work his way through the crowd sort of picking up and moving anyone in his way. The animal!

Aaand...that's about it.

About the title of this post, I woke up this morning and blew my nose and it was a horrible shade of neon green. Just like Mountain Dew!

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I have a loverly bunch of cashmere sweaters!

Deedle-lee-dee! There they are all standing in a row!

For the record - I have some wonderful wonderful friends. These friends are kind enough to clean out their closets and let me and a few other special people pick and choose from the lot.

I now own cashmere sweaters.

Cashmere is so soft.

I can has entire cashmere wardrobe?

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Spice Girls, Seth's Birthday, and Eddie Izzard. The best week of my life.

I'm not going to pretend that last week was all sunny, but the highlights most definitely outweighed the low-lights. Work was nutty, my sleep schedule was screwed up and the weather was shitty. But it was all okay because there was also lots of food, SPICE GIRLS, Seth's Birthday and Eddie Izzard. Fuck YES.

Spice Girls:

I have never been so excited about a show as I was about Spice Girls. Gearing up for the show felt like being twelve years old again. Butterflies and giggling lots and lots of jumping about while screeching, "OMG SPICE GIRLS!!!" It seriously impaired my brainpower. I became partially retarded. Karin and I got to Madison Square Garden and got to our seats and waited patiently for the show to start. We were patient only because there were cocktails with glowing LED swizzle sticks in them. Booze + glowing swizzle sticks = wee! Fun! The show started approximately thirty minutes late which was infuriating, but completely worth the wait. THEY ROSE OF THE FLOOR. The opened with "Spice Up Your Life!" Every last one of us was inadvertently slamming it to the left and shaking it to the right because we knew that we felt fine. When they sang Mama all of their children came on stage and Posh's youngest son started BREAK DANCING. It was not staged, he just started doing it! There were costume changes! And dance interludes! And solos! One of the costume changes involved the girls coming back on stage wearing new fangled versions of their 1997 costumes. Seeing Ginger Spice in a sequined Union Jack dress honestly made Karin and I cry. When the girls finally sang "Wannabe" I thought I was going to die. I was screaming my head off. Everyone around me was screaming their heads off. All of Madison Freaking Square Garden was screaming their heads off. Karin and I put our hands over our ears to block out all the screaming while also going, "Okay...ONE..TWO...THREE..AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Over and over again. At the end of the night we were out of breath of shaky. It was spectacular.

Seth's Birthday:

This year marked Seth's third birthday in New York City. The last two years he kept things relatively quiet; his first year here he had dinner with two friends and last year I took him out on his own. This year, however, he decided that he was going to have more of a party. So he did. On his actual birthday a couple of us went to this Italian place called Max's on Avenue B. They make their own lasagna and fettuccine noodles and it is damn tasty. The five of us hung out, ate our hearts out, and shared a bottle of wine. It was lovely. Then, on Friday night, Seth invited just about everyone he knows in NYC out for a night of southern food and beer over at Mama's, also on Avenue B. His original plan was to head home by about 1am, but we managed to keep him out until 4:30am. I think he even had a shot! (Seth, for the most part, is not a drinker.) He also may have tried the sour patch kid infused vodka which seemed like a really good idea to the rest of us at about 2am. (For the record - Sour patch kid infused vodka is actually completely disgusting and I do not advise anyone to try it ever. It is fucking vile.) From Mama's we headed to Snack Dragon Taco Shack (had never been before. Am kicking myself for never trying this place before. Holy shit. So tasty), and from tacos we headed to Rififi. At that point Seth left and Karin and I stayed out far far too late.

Eddie Izzard:

I freaking love Eddie Izzard. I have loved him since the first time someone showed me Dressed to Kill and I believe that I will always always love him. The show at the Union Square Theater was supposed to start at 10:30, but of course did not actually start until 11:00. (Again, completely worth the wait.) He came out bearded and wearing jeans, a t-shirt and blazer, which was a bit of a shock at first. I was disappointed that he wasn't wearing something fantastic along with fantastic make-up, but I got over it pretty quickly. (For those of you who don't know who Eddie Izzard is...here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddie_Izzard) He talked about the things he normally talks about: The Bible, God, history, etc, but in new and exciting ways! He described an elephant as the back end of a squirrel with a giant toaster for a body. Hilarious! To me. Who was there. Look, just trust me here, it was fucking funny. Aaaand I just found out the show has been extended through March 8, so if you get a chance to go I would advise it. This show doesn't seem to have a name, so I'm not sure that they are filming it.

So yeah...my week ruled. I need a nap.
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