And then I became a doctor.

So last night, CB was filling out a litany of forms for an upcoming sleep study his ENT has recommended. This is something he’s incredibly excited about and doesn’t blame me for at all. I mean, just because I was the one who hounded him about making an ENT appointment for a year, sent him the ENT’s phone number and address, and then cheered when he made the appointment, doesn’t mean that I really had that much to do with it at all, nor can I be blamed if the sleep study makes him hate life.

Anyway, since I’ve woken up one too many times wondering whether CB was still breathing, only to be startled into complete awake mode when he gasp-snores his way back to the light, we collectively decided he should go get it checked out.

So, in a valiant effort to make sure he gets or stays healthy, he let the ENT do all sorts of fun things with tubes and his nose. This was followed by a referral to a Sleep Clinic, hence, the forms he’s now having to fill out and the joy he feels about our relationship with every passing day.

An added bonus to all of this, of course, is that I was proven 100% correct and, I think, may have actually earned my M.D. last night by sheer correctness.

You see, CB likes to tease me at times because I’m what some might call…kind of lame. I like to go to bed early, wake up early, nap if possible, and be cozy and sleepy on the couch in the interim. Wait, scratch that – I don’t like to go to bed early, it’s just that I must go to bed early so I can function as a semi-normal human person during my waking hours. Because, inexplicably, if I go to bed at 9pm or 3am, my body still wakes up at 7am like clockwork.

However, without even realizing it, turns out I’m a Champion Sleeper. See below.

(This is from one of the pamphlets provided in the sleep study packet about attaining an optimal night’s sleep):

Stick to a Sleep Schedule

Go to bed and get up at the same time every day, even on weekends, holidays and days off. Being consistent reinforces your body's sleep-wake cycle and helps promote better sleep at night.

Me: “See!”
CB: “Ok, but you don’t so much stick to a sleep schedule as you do just wake up at the same time every day.”
Me: “Um, that’s a schedule.”
CB: “But it’s not by choice. Your body just does it because you’re a freak.”
Me: “I just think my body is ahead of normal human science and intuitively knows that it’s doing me a favor.”
CB: “Yeah, that sounds likely.”

Create a bedtime ritual

Do the same things each night to tell your body it's time to wind down. This might include taking a warm bath or shower, reading a book, or listening to soothing music — preferably with the lights dimmed. Relaxing activities can promote better sleep by easing the transition between wakefulness and drowsiness.

Every night before bed, I half-doze on the couch while we watch the Mets, finally get up around 9-9:15 to go to the bed, put my eye mask on my forehead, perhaps read a chapter or two of my book, insert my ear plugs because of the gasp-snores, turn off the light, pull down the eye mask, and go to bed. BOOM. Bedtime ritual. I’m a genius.

Also, CB can hardly contain himself on a nightly basis when he sees the beauty that is my nighttime ritual.

It's a welcoming site.

Get comfortable

Create a room that's ideal for sleeping. Often, this means cool, dark and quiet. Consider using room-darkening shades, earplugs, a fan or other devices to create an environment that suits your needs.

I mean, it’s like I wrote this stuff myself. 

Me: “This is uncanny. I knew all of this without even knowing that I was doing it right. I told you the air conditioning helps us sleep!”
CB: “It helps me sleep because then you’re not complaining about how hot it is.”
Me: “See? It works for us both. Plus, the eye mask? Darkness. The quiet? Ear plugs! Seriously, I’m sort of in awe at how spot on this is.”
CB: “I’m sort of in awe of the fact that somehow, even if we’re doing it all right, I’m still doing this sleep study.”
Me: “Because you might have sleep apnea.”
CB: “But I’m never tired, I don’t nap, and if anything, all of the things on the list of questions about how my sleep apnea might  affect me doesn’t apply to me, they apply to you.”
Me: “Exactly. Your sleep apnea is affecting my sleep, hence, you have to do the sleep study to fix it.”
CB: “There’s something wrong with this picture.” 

Anyway, I think it’s pretty clear that I obviously missed my calling as a physician, especially in light of the discovery years ago that I did not, in fact, miss my calling in criminal justice.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

I'm like the Pink Panther, except less like Peter Sellers and more cat-like.

So back when I was a freshman in college, I was learning the ropes of life on my own. Life with new-found freedom, responsibility, friends, and experiences. And I was pretty excited about this new chapter. However, I do believe that my freshman year was also a turning point of sorts, because it was the first time where I can remember being completely aware of the fact that, at sometimes critical junctures in my day-to-day life, my mind will just turn off.

It’s a blessing and a curse. And potentially a money-making party trick that I will make a note to look into.

I mean, nothing says drop
everything and enter law enforcement 
like this face right here.

Anyway, a few weeks into my second semester, I decided to move some classes around and signed up for an Intro to Criminal Justice class: Criminal Justice 101. 

So about three weeks into the semester, I grabbed my new class schedule, effortlessly found the classroom, and promptly sat in the very back of the class to assess my new surroundings. And, luckily for me, there was a friendly face there. The boyfriend of a friend of mine, a junior, was sitting just a few seats away and spotted me.

Friend of friend: “Hey, you’re in this class?”
Me: “Hey! Yep, I just transferred in today.”
FOF: “Wow, that’s great!”
Pause
FOF: “Aren’t you a freshman?”
Me: “Yeah, why?”
FOF: “Oh, I was just wondering. Have you already declared your major?”
Me: “Yep! I’m going into music therapy.”
FOF, confused: “Oh…. so….”
Me: “I just thought this class sounded interesting.”
FOF, still looking confused: “Yeah, I like it so far….”

And then we got interrupted by the professor, so I dove right in to get my learning on.

However, the next two weeks of that class were sort of a blur. I’ve never studied so hard or enlisted so much help by those around me. From my roommate to our friends down the hall, I had people quizzing me, re-reading assignments with me, and generally just helping me not to feel like a complete moron. And, as the first test of the semester grew near, I became increasingly anxious about my inability to comprehend what appeared to be the basics of criminal justice.

So, as I walked into class the Tuesday before the first exam, I was determined to somehow break the mind barrier that had been stunting my ability to learn basic police work for the last few weeks. I furiously took notes, making sure to earmark every page the professor told us to review, and found myself getting lost in the haze of realizing I might fail my first class ever.

And then it happened.

Professor: “And for those of you who remember this from Criminal Justice 101….”

My mind went blank, I heard a high-pitched buzzing sound in my ears, and my face grew hot as I started to look around the class and use all of those detective-ing skills I’d been learning the last few weeks.

This wasn’t Criminal Justice 101.   

In a moment, I experienced what I’ve come to realize as an all-too-familiar feeling of mild nausea, mixed with utter relief and embarrassment.

Also, I immediately stopped taking notes and started to, instead, figure out how the hell I was going to explain myself out of this one. I mean, it was all making so much more sense now: the shock on my friend’s boyfriend’s face when he saw me in class as a freshman; the difficulty level of the assignments; the fact that I wasn’t showing up on the attendance list and had to keep penciling myself in while the professor inquired with the registrar’s office to see when she’d get an updated class list…..

I really did miss my calling as a sleuth.  

So, after class I made my way up to the professor to stun her with my brilliance.

Me: “Excuse me, but you mentioned something today about Criminal Justice 101.”
Professor: “Yes.”
Me: “Yeah, so….what class is this?”
Professor: “Excuse me?”
Me: “Well, I actually thought this was Criminal Justice 101, and so when you said that, I realized that I may be sitting in the wrong class.”
Professor: “You certainly are. This is Criminal Justice 364, it’s one of the last classes students need before completing their Criminal Justice degree.”
Me: “Oh thank God, I thought I was just really dense!”
Professor, staring at me in awe.
Me: “Anyway…..um…do you know how I could find Criminal Justice 101?”
Professor: “Actually, you’ll need to go to the dean and discuss it with him. He teaches that class, but you have already missed the cut-off date to drop and add, so he’d need to give you special permission.”

Which obviously he’d go on to give me because, as he put it, “This is one of the weirdest stories I’ve ever been a part of in my 25 years as a professor. I don’t know how I could say no.”

Also, I totally aced that class. Suck it, Criminal Justice 364!

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday Wrapup!

Let’s get right to it because IT’S FRIDAY!

Ok, so now that we have a new apartment, we have to take on the hideous task of moving two apartments into one. Which people do all the time. No problem. We’ve got this covered.

Except that I just discovered that perhaps I’m a hoarder?  News that CB responded to by saying that he would just start secretly throwing out stuff of mine that he doesn’t think is important when we live together. Which I would imagine would consist of John Mayer CD’s, Bravo tv, and my random collection of pennies that I didn’t know I had.

I’m not joking. I have a bag of pennies that a friend gave me as a joke several years ago, and since then, I’ve just collected other pennies – and a few bobby pins and paper clips – in a zip lock bag. Why? Why?

Also, I found a wooden coin with a colorful cartoon bear on it that my niece left at my place when she was two.

She is now seven.

So why, do you ask, would I keep a wooden coin, a bunch of real, but useless, coins, and some bobby pins? Because I’m a crazy cat lady who didn’t realize I was living in my own cage of hoarding!

Of course, staying true to form and not at all going overboard, I started throwing out everything en masse. Like, at one point, my house keys made their way into the "trash" pile and then I realized that perhaps it was time to chill the f out.

But don’t worry, I’ve created a “trash” pile and a “giveaway” pile, so maybe I’ll do a giveaway on the blog for some items you all could use!

Anyone in the market for a pen cap and a three cent stamp?

***

The book blog has gotten a bit of a facelift! Nothing fancy, just a nip here, a tuck there. But don’t worry, we haven’t gone all Joan Rivers on you, we’re still the book blog you know and love! Plus, I’ll be blogging soon about “Detroit,” which I’m sort of obsessed with. So, stay tuned!

In the meantime, click here and go check it out – and follow us! I’ve noticed we have a few new followers on there, so thanks! You’re giving my entire family anxiety now that they know more than four people are reading it, but it’s totally worth it.

***

Ok, so for the video of the week I’m pretty sure it can’t be a surprise. Because after seeing the photo from Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Deux (see below), you had to know this was happening.

For those of you who missed it, this photo was taken JUST as Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" came on at the wedding over the weekend. And then, appropriately, I lost my sh*t. 

Happy weekend, everyone! See you Monday!

Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Deux

For Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Une (French makes everything classier), click here. 

***

So, something you should know about me is that I’m a giant, insanely emotional sap when it comes to weddings. I’ve always been this way, I will always be this way, and it has become a running joke among my friends. I cry when the bride walks down the aisle (sometimes – if the groom is crying), I definitely cry when you’re saying your vows - I mean, I’m not a monster, I have a soul -  and then I’ll for sure cry again at some point while you’re having your first dance and potentially when one or both of you is dancing with your father/mother.

I’m a good time all around.

So, CB obviously thoroughly enjoys going to weddings with me, and this weekend was no exception. I mean, after the weekend we’d had so far, he knew it was going to be a blast. However, what he wasn’t prepared for was that, over the course of the evening, he would end up can-canning with the guys to Frank Sinatra, running back to the hotel to get my flip flops so I could properly dance to “Call Me Maybe” without breaking my neck in heels, and comforting me once the pizza after-party in our hotel room came to an end and all of our friends left, leaving me in a sobbing heap on the bed because I was sad that we rarely get to see each other.

Like I said, I’m a good time all around.  

But let’s get real, all weddings are fun, right? Unless you have a black hole where your heart should be, then maybe not. Otherwise, I think in most instances, you feel the love and joy and excitement in the room and just feed off of that.

But Mike and Jess’ celebration may have taken the cake.  

Besides the fact that they clearly love each other and are an awesome team, they really love their friends and family, and it shows. Plus, there’s something about stepping back for a moment and seeing it in its entirety: looking up at Mike saying his vows to this incredible woman, and remembering the kid I met 25 years ago in 5^th grade. The kid with the big grin and infectious laugh, friendly to everyone, breaking hearts left and right. 

Find the kid with the biggest smile and the skinniest tie,
and you will find the groom. Also, you'll
find me because I'm the one who clearly knows how to sit
like a lady in a dress. 

And then looking over and seeing our best friends standing next to him, and sitting next to me, and I flash back over the last two plus decades, feeling humbled and overjoyed and lucky beyond words that these people are my family of friends.

Anyway, instead of trying to inadequately tell you about the time we had that night….I’ll just go ahead and show you. Enjoy. 

This isn't the bride and groom. But it IS true love.

Keeping it classy, like we do. Also, I think Mrs. B (our 5th grade
teacher above) would be super proud.

Hey look! Some of us married people who DIDN'T go to our
high school! 

Also, I think maybe Matt and Mike had their
own commitment ceremony on the side?

Jazz hands! Also, open bar.

Um, ok. There's an explanation. This photo happened JUST as
Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" came on
and I lost my mind. Or, as Kyle has lovingly dubbed it:
"Guys, it's my JAM!"

And, you know, these guys tied the knot and stuff. 

Congratulations, Mikie and Jess! 

Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Une

As promised, a special Tuesday post! Plus, since it’s a two-parter, check back tomorrow for the exciting conclusion!

***

Circa 2000.

There are moments in life that, as they’re happening, you wish you could freeze in time. Whether it be the moment you walked down the aisle and saw your future husband, or first held your child in your arms, or simply captured the most beautiful sunset on the most perfect summer evening on your way home from work. 

Or, in my case, a period of 48 hours filled with laughter and memories and mimosas. And some gas. 

We’re a classy bunch.

So as I mentioned last week, two dear friends got married in Washington DC on Saturday, and so of course a herd of us traveled into town to celebrate this momentous occasion. We also used it as an excuse to forget that there were parents and responsible adults among us and, instead, regressed back to middle school, when most of us met.

You see, leading up to the weekend, I’d been preparing CB for this moment, only he hadn’t realized it. Because before this trip, he thought there was only one of me: a distinct, unique oddity grown in Michigan and breaking the mold at every turn. However, what he discovered after meeting my friends was that I was simply one piece in a very insane, colorful, loud, crazy puzzle.

So as we drove down to our nation’s capital on Friday morning, he was trying to keep straight everyone he was about to meet. Because while he’d met the bride and groom several times, as well as a few others over the course of the last few years, he hadn’t met the rest – the people I spent nearly every waking moment of my life with from the time I was 11 until I picked up and made one of ‘em come with me to the east coast more than a decade ago.  And he certainly had not seen that whole package together as one unit.

Which, to be fair, can be quite terrifying.

Cut to: several hours and one open bar later and CB was singing impromptu karaoke with his new friends - and some strangers - as my friend Matt shouted out requests:

“Boyz II Men!”
“Color Me Bad!”
“Lionel Richie!”

Also, Matt has terrible taste in music, which is why we get along so well. That, and because when leaving the bar later that night, he and I sang every word from “A Chorus Line” while doing an on-the-fly, choreographed routine down the steps.

Obviously.

CB: “What are you guys doing?”
In unison: “A Chorus Line!”
CB: “Why?”
Matt: “Because we’re awesome!”
CB: “I don’t think that’s why.”

Anyway, something that should be noted about this particular group of friends is that we don’t so much talk in sentences as we do mainly short one-liners, long-understood sideways glances, and the occasional story from twenty years ago that’s so peppered with laughter that the general public has no idea what we’re talking about.

Which, if we’re being honest, is super-annoying to anyone who actually branched out and made friends after they were thirteen years old.

But CB totally held his own and dove right in, adding to the list of reasons why he’s a champion.

Case in point: Three Hour Brunch.

The morning after we all got into town, we decided to grab a bite to eat and then site-see before the wedding. However, we hadn’t properly prepared for the level of excitement over, and commitment to, a bottomless brunch buffet, complete with all-you-can-drink mimosas.

I mean, now we’d been given a challenge so we had to rise to the occasion, right?

So while Courtney and I decided that it was possible that bottomless mimosas would mean that we’d actually miss the wedding altogether, the rest of the crew went all in, and it was one of the funniest mornings/afternoons I can remember.

However, since the written word will never do it justice, I'll just pick out a few highlights to give you the overall picture. 

In no particular order….

• We became devastated when the waitress told us it was her last day. I mean, after spending an hour and a half with her already, she’d become quite important to us.

In unison: “Nooooooooo!”
Kyle: “Guys, she didn’t just tell us she has a brain tumor. She’s moving on to something better.”
Matt: “But who will bring us the mimosas?”

•  We left this comment card.

It seriously was. No joke. 

•  I actually thought this would take the focus off of me, since I was not toasting.

It did not work.

• We may not be mathematicians.

Waitress: “Would you like another mimosa?”
Tara: “Yes, please. Wait..which one haven’t I tried yet? The pomegranate? The passion fruit? Oh, just bring me whichever one I haven’t had yet. I’m an alcoholic, not an accountant.”

• We came up with creative ways to get our money’s worth. 

Kyle: “Ok guys, here’s what we can do. One at a time, over the course of the next few hours, we’ll each head back to the hotel, get ready for the wedding, and come back to hold our place at the table. Then, by the time we’re ready to go to the ceremony, we’ll be all fancy and we will still be able to drink mimosas and eat more bacon.”
Me: “I think that’s a solid plan. Plus, then we’ll be fancy-brunching!” 

• We decided that you could totally see four memorials in sixty minutes. 

Court: “Hey guys, it’s 1:30.”
Me: “What? But we have to get back to the hotel to get ready by 3!”
Tara: “Ok, we need a plan.”
Kyle: “Should the plan be that we just Google images of the memorials, pass them around the table, and order another mimosa?”

Shockingly, that plan didn’t fly. So we hopped in some cabs, did some sight-seeing, and still had time to nap, shower, and pretty ourselves for the Main Event.

….which I’ll blog about tomorrow – stay tuned! 

A post to come...

.....tomorrow! Actually, there will be a two part blogging event tomorrow and Wednesday about the wedding weekend, so stay tuned!

Friday Wrapup!

So, as you read this, I’m on my way to our nation’s capital to watch one of my oldest friends get married to his lovely bride. We’re all pretty excited, especially since most of us have known each other since we were in elementary school, and so obviously the weekend will be spent with a lot of “Hey, remember when’s” that won’t at all bother the spouses and boyfriends/girlfriends of those who WEREN’T around when they were 11. CB is very excited.

Anyway, I couldn’t leave you all hanging today, though, so let’s get to it!

***

Drum roll please…..we got an apartment! 

Clearly all of your good apartment vibes made their way to the coast and we will officially be living in sin as of July. Thanks for all of the notes of support! We are super-excited, and for those of you who follow me on Pinterest, expect to see some action over on the apartment page as I maniacally start to decorate. I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks! Also, I’m incredibly busy and not at all lame.

***

So, this is just about the best thing anyone’s ever sent to me (thanks, Mary!). And around 1:22 is just about my favorite moment in life.

***

This week’s book of the week is from a while back, but is a book that I’ve read multiple times over the years. It’s a great one to have on your bookshelf (or in one of those fancy space-aged contraptions that make words appear on the screen). You can pick it up, read a few essays, and put it down, with different stories speaking to you at different moments in your life. I highly recommend it – as do several members of my family! And if that’s not a rousing endorsement, I don’t know what is!

Click here and enjoy!

***

And now, the Video of the Week. This is by one of my all-time favorite bands, which makes CB roll his eyes each and every time I say it. When he listens to The National, for example, he says that he then needs to be put on suicide watch for the next day. Also, he's incredibly dramatic. 

He thinks I have “dark” taste in both my literature and music taste. However, I am the person who has both reviewed Stori Telling by Tori Spelling on the book blog and call “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” by Whitney Houston my go-to song for feeling good.

So clearly he’s wrong. And The National is the best.

Enjoy! 

Happy wedding, Mike and Jess!

Happy Friday, everyone!

On why I can never live in the Sahara OR be a vegetarian.

Over the last few nights, CB and I have been watching a series on the Discovery Channel called “North America.” It’s pretty rad and definitely worth checking out. However, every time I watch any sort of programming that revolves around nature or “the cycle of life,” I realize that I would possibly be the first gazelle eaten at the watering hole should I come back next time as a gazelle.

I also realized that I should probably be a vegetarian since I literally made CB put the show on mute while covering my eyes with my t-shirt as a pack of Killer Whales attacked a not-killer whale baby. Also, once they attacked and killed said baby whale, a bunch of Grizzly bears ate it and I think maybe also a wolf or two? I don’t know, I had my eyes closed.

But the point here is that CB just shrugged and said “the Killer whales and bears have to eat, too. Survival of the fittest.” To which I responded by drowning my sorrows in chocolate covered pretzels dipped in peanut butter and contemplating whether I could go without chicken or beef for the rest of my life. And then I concluded that I could, but will choose not to, and then I shut up about how watching baby animals get eaten gives me a sad.

Anyway, while I’m fascinated by all that is the cycle of life, while traveling for work over the weekend (hence the no blogging on Monday – sorry guys!), I realized that my cycle of life either means that I (a) am highly evolved or (b) should not be allowed to travel alone in the future.

There’s a subtle, yet distinct, line to be drawn between those two things, and so I’ll let you all be the judges.

1. At the entrance to the hotel room I was staying in, there was a large closet with mirrors on the outside. The first time I entered, I startled myself by my own reflection. The second time I entered, I startled myself by my own reflection. The third time I entered, I startled myself by my own reflection AND made a mental note to not be startled next time I walked into the room. The fourth time I entered, I startled myself and then cursed at myself for still being afraid of my own reflection after two days.

Which reminds me of the time that I moved my garbage can at work from one side of my desk to the other, and proceeded to throw my trash on the floor for three days until finally moving the garbage can back to where it originally was.

2. Someone please explain to me why on earth any architect would ever design a bathroom so that the switch is on the outside of the actual bathroom itself. Because, while waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, I searched around with my eyes closed and the eye mask half-covering my face for at least 60 seconds before concluding that perhaps the architect simply forgot a bathroom light switch.

Normal conclusion.

So I took care of business, went back to bed, and forgot that whole thing ever happened.

However, the next morning when I went to take a shower, I actually did forget that it happened, and so I did the light-of-day awake search for the switch and took far too long to realize that it was on the very outside of the door. And then I spent the entire shower thinking about why someone would design a hotel room that way, because I’m guessing that 99% of the people that stay in that hotel have bathrooms at home with the light switch on the inside of the room. Which lead me to think of other things about hotel rooms that make no sense, like why they pile up the bed so that at least half of it is covered in pillows so that you end up being concerned that maybe you’re doing pillows wrong at home? And WHAT are those log pillows for? You know the ones that are literally shaped like logs and aren’t used for any actual resting purposes? I refuse to believe in decorative pillows, and so they must have a purpose.

Also, these are the things that I think about in the shower. Maybe not really survival of the fittest stuff, but important nonetheless.

3. I don’t know which way is north. To be fair, I also don’t know south, east, or west. That’s not to say that I don’t know which way these face on, like, a map. I’m not an imbecile, I made it through the 1^st grade. But when someone starts giving me directions outside of New York City and uses compass directions, I get incredibly flustered and embarrassed. And usually I also get lost.

For example: the concierge at the hotel was trying to direct me to the gym. While I knew that it was on the 6^th floor, I wandered around the 6^th floor for about 10 minutes before worrying that people would think I was some sort of craigslist bandit in gym shorts who didn’t belong in the hotel at all. So I decided to do the sensible thing and ask for help.

You know, like the gazelles.

Me: Could you please tell me where the gym is?
Concierge: Yes ma’am, it’s on the 6^th floor on the north side of the building.
Me: Ok, great!

 Pause.

Me: So if I go up the elevator and turn……left?
Conceirge: Yes ma’am.
Me: Then I’ll be going north?
Concierge: No ma’am, that’s east.
Me: Wait….ok, but I can only go left or right, correct?
Concierge: Yes.

SERIOUSLY?! Who’s on first?

Me: So I should turn left and then go…..
Concierge: Right at the next hallway.
Me: Wait….but then wouldn’t that be south?
Concierge, getting flustered: Wait, ok, turn left out of the elevator and then…..
Me: Left at the next hallway?
Concierge: I think that’s right, yes.

Ok, cool. So the concierge doesn’t know which way north is, either. I don’t feel so bad. Also, I never did find the gym.

4. Sometimes I forget that people can see me, which may mean that, in a prior life, I was a chameleon.

Example: I went to the hotel restaurant to get some food to go, and while waiting, I wandered over to see all of the celebrity pictures on the wall. Three walls of pictures of sports players, actors, musicians, and politicians posing with a bronzed Harry Caray statue in the restaurant lobby.

And then I saw it.

Happy Wednesday, everyone! 

Friday Wrapup!

The sun is shining, the temperature is rising, and the fresh, sticky New York air is preventing me from being able to breathe properly...it must be both summer AND Friday! Let's get to it.

***
First, just wanted to say thanks for all of the positive apartment vibes. We're a bit wiser now to the ways of a  co-op and how maybe the landlord should get board approval to rent his apartment out before showing it and getting my hopes up for THREE WEEKS. But I'm clearly over it.

So, we're on the hunt again, and of course found yet another dream apartment. And now, I think I've sucked CB into my craziness, which likely won't end well for any of us.

After coming back from viewing a place last night and waiting to go see another one, this conversation happened:

Me: "I'm nervous to see this next apartment because I know I'm going to fall in love with it and have all of my hopes dashed like last time. I just can't do this emotional roller coaster!"
CB: "We'll be fine. We know we'll find a great apartment, so even if we don't get the next one we love, we'll definitely get one that will be perfect for us."
Me: "Yeah, that's true. And the good news is that now at least you know I don't fall in love with every apartment I see. I mean, that last place was nice, but I didn't get that feeling when I walked in the door where I felt like I could see myself living there."
CB: "I don't think I've ever had that feeling."
Me: "Really? You don't get that feeling of 'oh, I totally see myself in this place.'"
CB: "No, I basically look at whether it has what I'm looking for, and if it does, I live there."

Cut to: one hour later, after coming back from the next apartment.

CB: "You know that feeling you were talking about?"
Me: "Yeah?"
CB: "I felt it with that place. I mean, I'm having to actively distract myself from thinking about it. I can't believe we might not live there."
Me: "Finally! Now you know what my brain feels like!"
CB: "Let's not go overboard."

***

A friend of mine recently started working as as fashion stylist, rendering me less cool by the minute because that would never, ever fall into the list of jobs someone would think to hire me for.

But her? It's a no-brainer. And, it's for men! So, just in time for Father's Day or, you know, the weekend, you can click here and check out what she does and give the site some love.

***
For this week's book of the week we have yet ANOTHER book to add to my list! Though I am borrowing the David Sedaris and just ordered the Kelly Oxford, so I'm in good shape.

Meanwhile, click here to check out the brand new review, and spend some time on the blog in general - there's something for everybody! Enjoy!

***

And now, the video of the week. This was sort of a gimme, plus, you gotta' love the flashback to when parachute pants and terrible 90s everything was in fashion!

Enjoy your weekend, everyone!

Josephina Goes to the Jersey Shore

For those of you who have been reading with any regularity over the last year, you’re quite familiar with my boyfriend’s alter-ego here on the blog, CB. I mean, it’s gotten to the point where, in real life, everyone from my father to his friends refer to him by that name, on occasion, which obviously makes him super-happy.

But whatever, he totally won out. He comes across as the most level-headed, down-to-earth voice of reason to my obviously editorialized head-in-the-clouds, charmingly clumsy “character.”

So when it was brought to my attention this weekend that I, too, have an alter-ego, I was pretty excited that she’d be this high-powered superwoman who, like, conquers the world with her charm while also sometimes eating chocolate chip cookies. So basically, me, but with a cape?

However, it turns out that Josephina -  my alter-ego - is basically me but…worse? Yeah.

You see, a while back, a crowd of CB’s family and friends were sitting around reminiscing and laughing about dumb stuff they did in high school and college. Stories filled with intrigue and varying degrees of nefarious activities. All things that I, of course, didn’t ever partake in because I was too busy watching My So-Called Life with my dad and wondering if anyone like Jordan Catalano would ever grace the Farmington High hallways.

So when someone mentioned something about a “Josephina ID,” I just figured that this was yet another teenage pastime in Jersey that I failed to experience in my apparently sheltered Midwestern upbringing.

Also, “Josephina ID” isn’t what they said at all. But it’s what I heard, which lead to this unfortunate moment.

Me: “Wait, what’s a ‘Josephina ID’? Is that some sort of Jersey thing that I don’t know about?”

And then the room went silent….just before erupting into laughter that nearly shook the entire house.

So, throughout the months, someone would randomly bring up the “Josephina ID” moment to remember just how hilarious it was that I am sometimes completely clueless, leading to good times had by all.

However, this weekend, Josephina put down roots; she’s here to stay.

You see, we were hanging out at the shore with CB’s family and friends, talking and laughing and drinking wine. I mean, what else is there to do when it’s 50 degrees and raining?

And then this happened:

CB’s mom: “…and we have this Dummy wine, too, just in case.”
Me, excitedly: “Mmm, there’s gummy wine?”
Jen, without missing a beat: “Well, Josephina has arrived!”

And, again, the room erupted into laughter.

However, let’s get real – I’m going to patent that stuff and make a fortune. Who’s laughing NOW? Gummy candy infused with wine? Genius. And maybe a little bit dangerous? But mostly genius.

Luckily, I'm really good
at masking who I am .

Anyway, as the weekend progressed, it became clear that Josephina tends to hang out just at the surface of my personality, popping up at times when it’s usually kind of quiet and everyone in CB’s family is listening and staring at me. 

Which, of course, makes CB endlessly proud and never leads him to question whether he’s ready to take the next step and move into the apartment we don’t have together yet.

However, when I thought about it, I realized that Josephina had been around for years, long before CB’s family ever decided to name her.*

Example:

While watching “Who’s the Boss” with Beth in college (see? We were insanely cool.)

Me, completely seriously: “Beth?
Beth: “Yeah?”
Me: “Who do you think the boss is?”
Beth: “What?”
Me: “The boss, on ‘Who’s the Boss.’ I mean, everyone would assume it’s Angela, because she’s the actual boss of Tony. But Mona is totally the boss of Angela, plus, she found Tony. But then Tony is the boss of the house in an actual sense, because he runs the show. For sure it’s not Daniel Pintaro. But it could be so many of them!”
Beth: “I can’t believe this is an actual conversation.”

Exmaple:

While driving down the highway in high school/early college, we passed a few signs for “Catabwa Is.”

Me: “Jason…what is Catabwa?”
Jason: “What?”
Me: “We keep passing these signs that say ‘Catabwa Is.’ Why don’t they just tell us already?”
Jason: “Seriously?”
Me: “Yes!”
Jason: “The ‘Is’ is an abbreviation for ‘Island.’”
Me: “Oh my God, that makes so much more sense than what was happening in my head.”
Jason: “It usually does.”

And there you have it.  Happy Wednesday, everyone!

*Believe it or not, I function at quite a high level during my day-to-day life. I just have, shall we say, “Josephina Moments.” Kind of like “Pulling a Monica,” but cooler.

Not a real post.

This isn't a real post because I'm coming off of a long weekend and hundreds of emails are staring me in the face at work. SO, that means that, while you aren't getting a fresh post today, you'll most certainly get one tomorrow, and I think it'll be a good one after all of the shenanigans from the weekend! So...stay tuned!

(and we didn't get the apartment. Which obviously has/had me in a deep state of sadness until everyone reassured me that this was just the universe's way of saying that I wasted three weeks decorating a home that wasn't mine and something better will come along. So...now we're on the hunt again, but I appreciate the good apartment vibes, and would assume those can be transferred to whatever place we actually DO get! That's how vibes work, right?)

See you tomorrow!

Friday Wrapup!

So it’s possible that I’ve pre-written this because, as we speak, I’m either preparing for, or am currently on my way to, the Jersey Shore (insert appropriate Bruce Springsteen song here. Or, just see below). But, I wouldn’t leave you hanging on a Friday, devoted blog readers, so let’s get to it!

***

First, no, we haven’t heard about the apartment yet and it’s all I can do to not pass out from not knowing. It’s true that I’m a tad bit of a control freak, and having zero control over this situation has been a true test for me. But I think I’m getting a solid C+ for effort, which is better than what I usually got in math, and so I’ll take it.

Also, while clutching my phone as I headed towards the bathroom yesterday, I realized something: this whole apartment thing is sort of like dating. 

You really like a guy, you saw him a few times and he said he’d call. But he was also going out of town for a few weeks, and so he promised he’d call when he got back. Cool. No problem. You're breezy!

But when he calls, it’s to tell you that he’s not sure when he’ll be able to hang out again. And then you find that you’re bringing your phone to the bathroom with you just in case he calls, and then you casually check your phone about 1,000 times in the course of an hour because you thought maybe you saw it light up.

However, in my version of this dating story, we totally end up together. Obviously. Also, perhaps this is why I was so bad at dating for such a long time? I'm not good at "casual."

All of this is to say, of course, that we’re still waiting to hear if we got approved. It’s apparently a much longer process than just taking a look at the two of us and deciding that of COURSE you want us to live in your nice building and that we may just be the best tenants to ever grace this board room.

But we expect to hear any day now, guys, so rest assured I’ll keep you all posted (whether you want to know or not).

Also, this conversation happened at work Thursday.

My three co-workers who sit near me as they walked in: “Did you hear about the apartment last night?”
Me: “Ugh, noooo…and it’s torture.”
Co-worker 1: “I was thinking about it and figured for sure you’d come in today with good news!”
Me: “Yeah, me too.”
Co-worker 2: “Well, I’m sure you’ll hear any moment now.”
Me: “I sure hope so…for the sake of all of us.”
Co-worker 3: “I had a dream about it last night….”
Me: “Seriously?”
Co-worker 3: “Yeah, but in my dream you were really disappointed that you didn’t get the apartment, so I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.”
Co-worker 1: “You should not have told her that.”
Me: “The fact that my co-workers are dreaming about this situation means that I may not have boundaries. For example, I don’t know anything that goes on outside of these four walls with any of you three.”
Them, nodding.
Co-worker 2: “But you’re our entertainment, so we appreciate you sharing.”
Me: “Glad to be of service.”

Moving on.

***

So, instead of sharing a review this week from the book blog, I wanted to get YOUR opinion. I have a list this long of things I’ve been writing down to read, but none of them seem to grab me at the moment.

Has anyone read the new David Sedaris or this book?  I’ve heard good things about both, so I want a judge’s ruling on what I should spend my evenings poring through. By which I mean, the last five minutes of my night before I fall asleep with my eye mask half-covering my face and the light still on.

Anyway, let me know!

***

And now, as I teased above, the video of the week. Kind of a gimme, given my weekend plans, but also just a good song. It was tough to find a good video of this one, though, so this is as good as it gets.

I hope you all enjoy your long weekends and I’ll be back at you on TUESDAY next week to hopefully tell you all about the new place we’ll be moving into! (right, universe?) Sorry, I have a one track mind.

Happy Friday!

Pink elephants and apartments.

So, this isn’t a real post because I’m busy using all of my mental power to will the phone to ring so that our (hopefully) new landlord can tell us that we got the apartment. And since mind-power tricks to get phones to ring and the universe to bend to your will takes a lot of energy, obviously I have zero to spend on a post.

Which is really inconvenient since my job also requires brain power, and is being rather demanding at the moment. So, I’ve turned my Pandora to Shuffle – but only on the 80s and Peter Cetera station, obviously – and plan on pretending that I’m not obsessing over “something we don’t have any control over, Becky, so don’t stress.”

Also, guys, don’t think of a pink elephant! 

See? Impossible. That’s how my brain works at all times. My brain is just one big pink elephant.

But Happy Wednesday, nonetheless! Perhaps a Thursday post about our new apartment will be in order………

The things we do for love.

Last night I was putting on my eye mask and inserting my ear plugs when I looked over at CB, who was opening the window and wrapping himself in a quilted blanket, when it hit me: “Wow, we must really love each other.”

Which I know sounds really weird since I was essentially creating, as I do every night, a sensory deprivation chamber on my own head while he was voluntarily freezing himself out – if anything, we sound mildly psychotic. But if you think about it, so much of couplehood is managing your needs with those of your partner, and then picking and choosing your battles. I mean, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is!

Also, it should be noted here that I may just have no idea what love is.

You see, I was single for a few years prior to dating CB, which obviously means that I was just incredibly choosey and totally beating them off with a stick. Of course, he was single, too, and the other night, he explained why:

CB: “After a while, girls would just sort of get on my nerves and it wasn’t worth it.”
Me: “So you stayed single for so long because people bugged you? You’re, like, the most easy-going guy I know, that doesn’t make any sense.”
CB: “Yeah, but if I’m going to be spending most of my time with someone, they have to not get on my nerves after just a few days.”
Me: “It’s shocking to me that I was your choice. Like, I don’t even mean that in a sarcastic or self-depricating way.”
CB: “Yeah, I was sort of floored, too.”
Me: “I guess that’s why we work.”

Ahhh, love.

But seriously, after thinking about it, I realized that our relationship is sometimes an exercise in compromise and/or sacrifice without ever really feeling like it (to me. And also CB, since I'm going ahead and assuming we're on the same page here.)

• I wear ear plugs every night. And this is as much for CB as it is for me, since prior to this, I would lay awake every single night and contemplate smothering him with a pillow so he’d stop his bear-like snoring. Also, I sometimes wouldn’t let him sleep if I wasn’t sleeping, and so I’d nudge him approximately every 17 seconds to make him turn over or just cut it out already. So, with the earplugs, we both sleep more soundly.
• CB will sleep with the window open and/or the heat off when it’s 50 degrees and below on most given nights because I’m like a radiating hot box that groans, tosses, and complains if it’s mildly warm. Also, he used to get many more head colds because of this decision until realizing that I would sometimes share the comforter and/or he could put more layers on. I know, I’m a monster.
• I cook.
• CB grocery shops.
• I listen to numerous stories about the Mets, random golfers, how terrible the Jets are, and any other stray fun-fact about sports during most of my waking, non-working hours.
• CB watches Bravo shows, even though I think he may have called Cablevision to see if maybe Bravo didn’t have to be included in the basic package. And sometimes the shows involve matchmaking, interior decorating, or gay fashion stylists. Those are just a few of his favorites.
• I try to stay up past 9pm on weekends so we can have “movie night.”
• CB puts a movie in at 6:15pm so I can make it all the way through.
• I clean the bathroom.
• CB pulls the grody stuff out of the drain in the kitchen sink because my skin can’t touch food-water.
• I wake up to a rather grouchy, profanity-laced diatribe about how mornings suck about 3-5 times per week.
• CB attempts to get into bed after I’ve fallen asleep. Also, once in a while we’ll have the “your side of the bed” conversation and I’ve insisted that I stay on mine. (see photo)

  

  This is me sleep-wrestling the comforter. 

• I’ve been commuting from his apartment – one mile away – to mine for a year and a half, every day.
• CB will get into the very corners of the sofa so I can sprawl out and lay on him. “Seriously, when we get a bigger couch, I know that, somehow, you’ll still end up in my corner.” I tell him it keeps our love strong to be that close. He says it could be stronger if I’d go sit on the loveseat. But he still scoots over every day. 

And obviously there are many more. Some that, I’m sure, I’m not even aware of. 

But at the end of the day, isn’t that what it’s all about?

Happy Monday, everyone!

Friday Wrapup!

I can’t even think right now, you guys. I just offered my seat to a pregnant woman on the subway who wasn’t pregnant. So let’s just start the wrapup and pretend like that never happened.

***

So earlier this week, “The Flame” by Cheap Trick came on (obviously) while CB and I were sitting on the couch, and I started to sing along. Once the song ended, I continued to sing the song.

CB: “You know those aren’t the right lyrics, right?”
Me: “What? Those are totally the lyrics.”
CB, laughing: “You’re, like, not even close.”

Then he pulled up the lyrics on his phone.

CB: “Ok, start from the beginning.”
Me, starting to sing.
CB: “Uh…you got about half of those right…keep going.”
Me, getting to the chorus and starting to hum.
CB: “Wait, you can’t just start humming!”
Me: “But I don’t know this part!”
CB: “Do you even know the name of this song? It’s the whole chorus!”
Me: “I may not know it. But you have to give me credit for knowing the tune and singing on key.”
CB: “You get half credit. And you’re a nut.”

***

Speaking of singing along……..

***

This week’s Book of the Week is a tribute to the fact that I can’t run for a while since I’m all healing from trying to break my own ankle and stuff. 

However, as I said in the review, you don’t have to be a runner to appreciate and enjoy this book, especially if you’ve read anything else by Haruki Murakami in the past (“The Wind-up Bird Chronicle,” for one).

So, click here for the review and check out the rest of the blog for good summer reading inspiration!

***

And now, the Video of the Week.

I realize this won’t be everyone’s style, but I can’t stop listening to this song on repeat. The actual video for it, though, is kind of boring, so I decided to feature the live version here, which is also cleaner for all of you delicate listeners out there.

So, go out there and enjoy this gorgeous weather and the fact that it’s the weekend!

Happy Friday, everyone!

Becky's Rules for Life.

I’m totally stealing The Bloggess' Rules for Life idea, and then Lauren Filing-Jointly's theft of that idea. Why? Because this is my blog and I can do what I want. OR, because I’m a little slammed at work AND I really love lists. And telling people what to do.

Also, because obviously I’m someone who should definitely be dolling out life advice, so…..enjoy!   

BECKY'S RULES FOR LIFE

Don’t run in flip flops in the rain. Trust me.

Sometimes go to bed angry. For real. Sometimes you guys just need to SLEEP, wake up, realize that nighttime is not the right time, and everything seems much more dramatic than it is. Just go to bed.

But if you can muster up an “I’m sorry” or an “I love you” before bed? Even better. Or at least, like, do that thing where you sort of reach out to the other person in the dark and touch their arm or something. This will melt even the coldest of hearts. Unless you were seriously dumb, in which case, go to bed, wake up in the morning super-early, and make me chocolate chip pancakes.

Don’t ever wear acid washed anything. Not even ironically. Oh my God.

Listen to your gut. And if you don’t do that, listen to your best friend.

Please don’t say “hot water heater.” Guess what? The fact that it heats water makes it a WATER HEATER. That’s it.

Don’t correct people constantly when they say things like ‘hot water heater,’ even if it makes you want to die. It just makes you look kind of douche-y and makes the other person like you less.

Unless you’re a parent. And then it is your duty to correct your kids when they speak improperly so they don’t turn into adults who I want to correct all the time.

Laugh as often as possible because you should never pass up an opportunity to have a little fun and not take yourself, or life, too seriously. Also, I think it burns calories?

Nobody knows how to fold a fitted sheet. Nobody. Don’t even tell me that you have the secret, because you don’t, and it’s not even important anyway, so let’s just drop it.

Forgive but don’t forget. Also, nobody can really forget anyway, so it’s just better to actually forgive someone so that when you remember what they did you’re all like “Oh, but I forgave them for that, so it’s ok.”

Say please and thank you.

Add flare. Seriously, at least every single day, add one piece of flare to your day, whether it be glitter shoes, pink pants, or even just a slightly more flare-y color to your toenails. Because life is too short to not sparkle a little. Also, clearly this is advice for men and women.

Don’t spend too much time on Facebook, or Pinterest, or Twitter, or blogging. Because guess who the most boring people are? The ones who live their lives online. Go outside. Go live life.

Check yourself before you wreck yourself.

Eat dessert. Because guess what? That’s what treadmills are for. And once in a while there’s nothing better than some empty calories. Plus, you can do that thing that I notice skinny people doing where they inexplicably don’t finish the whole dessert. I know, I don’t understand it either, but apparently it’s a thing.

She clearly needs a
good talking-to.

And finally….Be kind. It sounds ridiculous and cliché, but it’s amazing how far a little kindness can go. And this goes for being kind to yourself as well. The best advice I ever heard about this was from someone so wise that I can’t remember their name. But basically, take a look at yourself as a kid, and remember that you’re still that kid. Treat yourself the way you’d treat that child in the picture (with kid gloves – BOOM – it was just sitting there, you had to know I was going to pick it up).  

But seriously. Just give yourself, and others, a break already.

Thanks to The Bloggess and Lauren Filing-Jointly for the inspiration.

What would you add?