Update

I'm alive! And I have pants on! Win/win.

So it's been a long few days and I apologize ahead of time if this is not really a funny one, but if it counts for anything at all, while sitting in my pitch black, cold apartment with my cat (sometimes with pants on), I thought of all sorts of ways that I could turn this tragedy into a really witty, light blog post! But it's kind of hard to do when so many people have lost their homes, lives, and loved ones after the power of Sandy blew through the East Coast. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who is without food, shelter, water, or loved ones nearby.

And all of this is to say that, while I promise to post something witty about what happened to me over the last few days, today can't be that day. Please send all of the good vibes you have the way of those who really need it right now. I am fortunate enough to have amazing friends who have taken me in, have power, food, warm water, and lots of laughs to share over these next few days while I'm still without power. CB's friends and family were also incredible with making sure I knew that I had a place to go if need-be, and many of them are still without power as I type this. 

Hoboken was hit hard, and the sight of the National Guard going down my street this morning was sort of surreal, but my apartment is still standing - though dark at the moment - and everyone I know and love are safe and, at the very least, surrounded by their loved ones. 

I promise to post tomorrow (Thursday) with something much lighter, but I wanted to THANK YOU all for checking in on me via Facebook, Twitter, on the blog, etc. It means the world that people who've never met me but read this little blog every day took the time to check in and make sure I was alright, and I couldn't be more humbled. You guys rock. I mean, I knew that, but still.....it was incredible, thank you.

Check back tomorrow afternoon so you can hear all about I pants-lessly avoided an intruder in my house and almost lit myself on fire while reading the Mindy Kaling book by candlelight for the second time. Stuff to look forward to!!

Thanks, guys!!! Much love!

There's a storm a comin'!

So I back from a fabulous long weekend that I'll fill you all in on later this week, but looks like I'm sitting in the middle of what they think is going to be a wicked hurricane. SO, no blogging until this thing passes.

Thankfully, though, I had lots of practice this weekend with water safety so I've totally got this.

Stay safe, people! Talk to you soon....

Friday Funday Wrapup! (even though it's Thursday)

It's Friday, so we all know what that means...the Friday Funday Wrapup! Unless you're reading this on Thursday, which is when I'm actually posting this because I won't be near a computer tomorrow. Whatever. You get the picture. Let's get to it!

***

First thing's first:

THANK YOU again to all of you who have been supporting this little blog since its inception in the spring. I'm shocked by how many of you are so loyal, reading and commenting and just really keeping this little thing chugging along. The fact that BlogHer recognized it is in no small part due to you. Also, welcome to those of you who are just joining us!

THANK YOU.

***

The second round of thank you's has to go out to all of you who donated and helped spread the word about the Lupus Walk last weekend. We had a blast, as always, and your support did not go unnoticed.

***

Honestly, you really can
never be too careful. 

Um, so I'm heading up to Rhode Island for a long-ish weekend with CB and some of his family and friends. I'm looking forward to it more than you can imagine.

Except one part.

It's the part where we're going on some sort of really awesome sunset cruise on a boat in the ocean. Fun, right? Yeah, unless you're me and you have silent and soon-to-be-not-so-silent anxiety surrounding all things in the water.

Which is why I wear life vests anytime I'm in (or, apparently, near) it. No, I'm not kidding. Take a look to your left for Exhibit A.

However, because it's how I roll, I won't let my crippling anxiety cripple me. Also, I will be wearing a life vest and I'm 34 years old.

BRING IT, haters.


***

And now for the Video of the Week! Check out the other Friday Funday Wrapups over the last few weeks for the other videos, if you're interested. But for THIS week's video, I had to choose a classic.

In honor of Halloween next week, please set aside 14 minutes.....and enjoy.

Happy Weekend, everyone!!

Why Elvis Costello, Mindy Kaling, and Betty White just won't leave me be.

Ok, so to be honest, I’m still sort of glowing from the love I’ve received over at BlogHer, and because I’m me and don’t always live in the world of reality and stability, I started pretending last night that celebrities totally wanted to be my friend now. Especially Betty White.

So of course I had to text Courtney about it to keep myself in check, but then remembered that she sometimes doesn’t always live where normal resides, either, and so then this conversation happened:

Courtney: When they pay you to do a cross-country road trip and blog about it, can I go too?
Me: Like Oprah and Gayle? Um, duh! I still can’t believe they picked one of my posts. I hope Betty White reads it. Do you think she will? In my heart, she’s reading it right now.
Courtney: Oh, she’s SO reading it right now. What kind of ridiculous question is that? Crazy.
Me: Totally. I should never have doubted her imaginary devotion to me.
Courtney: How could you. It’s like you don’t know her at all in your heart.

"Oh Becky, you always make me laugh so hard.  That's why
we're definitely not just friends in your head."

And it’s possible that after this conversation I started thinking about how everyone got Betty White to appear on Saturday Night Live via Facebook, and so that could also happen to me in the form of her discovering me on Facebook or Twitter. And then all of my dreams would be fulfilled.

But then I was reminded of a conversation I had earlier this week with another friend and started to wonder if perhaps living in your imaginary famous world all the time wasn’t the healthiest.

Me: I just love Jeff. And I think CB loves Zoila, too, even though he totally won’t admit it.
Friend: Wait, are we still talking about a tv show or are these real people?
Me: Oh, the tv show.
Friend: Yeah, it was kind of hard to tell because I think sometimes you blur the line between tv people and people you actually know.
Me: Yeah, I’m not so sure that line actually exists in my mind.
Friend: That’s pretty clear.

And I was this close to reigning myself back in, you know, because I’m an adult who spends no waking moments thinking about what outfit I would wear if Mindy Kaling and I went clubbing after work one night. But THEN I totally got stalked by a celebrity this morning on my way to the office and all of my rational thinking and logic went right out the window (where it belongs).

I know, right? It’s like the universe was sending me a sign not to plant my feet firmly on the ground.

Anyway, so Elvis Costello must’ve read the blog and wanted to meet me and “just so happened” to position himself right in my path this morning. And by “in my path” I mean that I’m pretty sure he dodged back and forth trying to avoid me trying to avoid him while I attempted to detangle my headphones. Instead, though, I ran directly into him.

"I totally want to duet with you,
Becky."

Also, it’s possible that I yelled “You’re Elvis Costello!” at him as he tried to walk away.

Geez, way to be totally obvious, Elvis Costello. You could’ve just asked, I definitely would’ve given you a hug without getting you wrapped up in my headphone cords.

Whatever, these celebrities can’t quit me. It’s a blessing and a curse. I mean, I deserve my privacy too, people! I’m just like everyone else. Except sometimes I don’t have pants on .

Happy Hump Day, guys! Thanks again for all of your blogging support! 

Exciting News Update! (in blogging land...)

Update
It happened! The post is up at BlogHer. Check it out here!

Thank you to BlogHer for the feature on the homepage and under the Family Topics link - this is incredible. Obviously, without you all checking in daily to support this blog, none of this would happen. I'm just so happy that anyone reads it at all, let alone finds it entertaining! Thank you for all of your support.

***

I have some exciting news! My post of an incomplete list of why kids today worry me is being featured on BlogHer today at 5pm EST on their homepage and in the Family topic as a BlogHer Spotlight. I’m so flattered!

Also, can we all just take a moment to reflect on the fact that anything I wrote made its way onto a Family topic link on a website? A-mazing.

Thanks to BlogHer for noticing my blog and highlighting one of my posts. Check out the site in general, they do great work for giving exposure to some really great writers out there (and I wasn’t just patting myself on the back by saying that, I actually really like a lot of what I read on there.)

Check it out, guys! I'll link to it later today when it goes live! 

A pants-free, Bootylicious Zone. Or, you know, my apartment on a Sunday.

Keeping it real since
'77. Barrettes add class
to any occasion. 

I’m pretty sure we’ve all firmly established that I’m restrained and classy at most any time during the day. What’s that you say? You’ve never experienced me, whether on this blog or in real life, to be restrained or classy? That is correct and I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.

Except to say that there are times when I’m alone in my apartment that I forget that I’ve never experienced a day that involves a tremendous handle on restraint or being classy at appropriate times.  And let’s just get real, it’s a pants-optional zone within the four walls of my humble abode, so class and restraint decided not to even attempt making that journey.

However, one of the dangers of living alone for a long period of time with your cat is that you sometimes forget what is considered “normal” human behavior when in the presence of others.

Case in point: I was feeling pretty good yesterday. The Lupus Walk was a success and, as is always the case, it brought together friends that don’t get to see each other nearly enough. So when I got back to my apartment and reflected on the weekend, I decided that a way to celebrate such a good time was by cleaning my bathroom.

I know, right? Obviously.

So, as I do when it’s time to get down and dirty with some Clorox, I put on my “Cleaning Mix.” Wait, you don’t have a cleaning mix? Then you are sorely missing out. And/or you have a life and no time to make mixes while you dust. Sort of boggles the mind, if you ask me.

Anyway, I put on my purple gloves, turned the water in the tub on and the music up and started scrubbing away. Cut to: about 10 minutes later when there was a knock at the door.

To set the stage, let’s keep one thing in mind: when the knock on the door occurred, I may have taken off my sweatpants and was perhaps belting out the chorus to “Bootylicious” by Destiny’s Child. Also, I may have forgotten to brush my hair. So I was standing in the middle of my tub, pants-less, in a tank top and sports bra and a nest of unwashed hair piled atop my head.

Sorry, boys, I’m taken. 

Me: Hello?
Neighbor: It’s your neighbor.
Me: Hi neighbor! (I really did say this.)
Neighbor, waiting for me to come to the door like a normal person: Uh……
Me, climbing out of the tub: So, I’m cleaning my tub and I don’t have any pants on. Can you hold on?
Neighbor, confused: What?
Me, running to the bedroom to grab pants: I don’t have pants on!
Neighbor: no answer
Me, putting pants on and turning off the tunes, running to open the door: So sorry, I didn’t have on any pants.
Neighbor, looking at me confused: Uh…that’s ok. I didn’t know if you’d be able to hear me knocking over the music.
Me: Oh yeah, sorry. I was cleaning. It’s my cleaning mix.
Neighbor: You have a cleaning mix?
Me: Yeah. It’s the best, you forget you’re cleaning if the mix is right. You should try it.
Neighbor: Well, you definitely seemed to know all of the words.
Me: Oh, but that’s not because of cleaning. That’s just because it’s a classic.
Neighbor, looking uncomfortable: Anyway….you gave us the number to the landlord last spring and we lost it. Would you mind giving that to me again?
Me: Oh sure!
Neighbor: Hey thanks a lot. And I’m sorry that I made you put on pants.
Me: Oh, it’s no big deal. They come off just as easily as they go on.

And then I shut the door and realized that I sounded like a whore.

Whatever, my tub is clean and now I don’t have to worry about fitting new friends into my already busy lifestyle because my neighbors will never talk to the pants-less crazy person ever again.

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday Funday Wrapup!

Happy Friday everyone! Obviously this means only one thing: the Friday Wrapup. Let’s get to it:

First (obviously):

WORLD SERIES, BABY!

Best.

***

Tomorrow is the Lupus Walk and I can’t thank you all enough for helping to spread the word and for your generous donations. It’s above and beyond what we ever expected and it really means a lot. If you haven’t checked out the link, please feel free to click here to learn more and/or donate to this incredibly important cause. THANK YOU.

***

I want to thank all of you who gave me lots of great ideas for Halloween costumes after my recent post. I finally came up with one and I promise to post pictures if I can actually pull it off. BUT, in the meantime, my parents sent in proof of the California Raisin costume I mentioned in that post. 

You're welcome.

***

So this week we have a very special video of the week because it’s not just any week – it’s the weekend of the Michigan vs Michigan State game. While MSU has won the last four years, we might need a little more than a fight song to get us through this. Obviously I want to keep the Paul Bunyon statue at its rightful home, but the Spartans are really going to have to fight.

Yes, I realize this has been a very sports-heavy wrapup today, so apologies to those of you who couldn't care less. I promise to go back to talking about things that really matter next week, like using your turn signal and garbage goldfish.

GO GREEN!

Happy Friday everyone! Have a great weekend! 

On why I could totally be president and how to dress to impress.

I know this is going to come as a shock to you all, but this isn’t a political blog. It’s a sex blog, obviously. Duh.

So I don’t want any of what I’m about to say to be construed as me being anything close to resembling political. But I’m guessing that at least some of you watched the Presidential Debate last night and so I just have to say this:

They totally would’ve failed my debate class in high school.

Trend-setting in
the 90s. It was a tough
job, so obviously
someone else did it.

When I was a junior, I took Speech. I don’t know if that’s what it was actually called, but basically it was a class where you learn the art of public speaking in the form of being completely f’ing terrified to get up in front of your fellow classmates every 2-3 weeks to talk for 6 minutes. Also, let’s all keep in mind that I already had the art of dressing to impress down to a science, and so I just wanted to round out my whole image by really knocking it out of the park with my ability to convince people to side with me on all issues. So of course I chose the really controversial topic of turn signals. 

I know, right? I was always a trailblazer.

Look, there are very few things I remember about most classes I took in school, likely because I was busy socializing excessively in class. But there are definitely a few teachers and courses that really stuck out to me, and Speech was one of them. Why? Because I actually learned something useful that I could take into real life with me. Granted, when I speak publicly now for work I still want to vomit and get anxiety acne all across my chin. But the point is that everyone just thinks that’s how I always look and is super-impressed with my speaking and convincing abilities. Or so I tell myself as I apply the Proactive.

Regardless, I don’t know what speech-taking courses these politicians are taking, but they clearly didn’t go to Farmington High School because there was all kinds of learning going on up in that place.

They should take note:

1. No put downs: this is a given, but it was no problem since everyone totally agreed with my notion that people should use their turn signals when they changed lanes because otherwise, that’s just rude.
2. Team loses one point for each interruption: ok, so I didn’t have a team against my argument for using turn signals, but in some of the other debates, we did. And we absolutely got docked if we interrupted and it wasn’t our turn. I mean, those are just good Midwestern manners.
3. In the first minute, you must lay out your argument clearly and concisely. People should use their turn signals when they’re changing lanes. BOOM. You’ve just been served.
4. In the following three minutes, you must give specific examples with facts to back them up. My dad curses under his breath and sometimes puts his hands up in the air when someone cuts him off and they didn’t use their turn signal to let him know ahead of time that he was about to be all slowed down in the fast lane. Fact.
5. Don’t be vague. Use clear and concise factual points to get your argument across. There are no two ways about it: people who don’t use their turn signals are suck-y drivers. 100% of non-suck-y drivers agree with this point.

Basically what I’m saying is this: vote for me and we’ll all be better drivers. I'm so sorry to have gotten so political but there are hot-button issues that just can't be ignored, people!  

Happy Hump Day! 

And then I won an award while I was sleeping.

It's Tuesday and I'm blogging so you know that this must be a special occasion. Thanks to Gina over at The Life I Live...So You Don't Have To , I've been given the Reader Appreciate Award! 

Also, I'm not gonna lie - I accidentally took a Tylenol PM this morning for a headache and so I might actually be sleep-typing this. I'm just saying. 

Ok, so 10 questions were given to me to answer from Gina, so without further ado, here are the answers to my questions:

Who is your favorite author, and why?

My sister. She's just not published yet. 

What is one book that you would recommend to someone else, and why?

Ok, so this totally depends on who I'm recommending to. We all know my love for Stori Telling by Tori Spelling. But I'm pretty sure CB is never going to read that. Nor would he ever read Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? by Mindy Kaling, also one of my favorites, or Bossypants, which I actually think everyone should read. So I really have to know my audience here.

Oh, also, I sometimes read stuff by people who haven't been on television. 

Am I recommending to Courtney? Then anything I just mentioned above, which I'm pretty sure she read after I said "Read it!", because I'm the boss of her.  But if I'm recommending to my parents or CB, something a little deeper (though I did send my mom Bossypants and she cried from laughter. Not surprising, since she raised me.) 

Anyway, I loved The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami, and The Portable Dorothy Parker, just to name a few. But I don't have an all-time favorite book. That's just too limiting! 

Or, if you don't trust my taste, which boggles the mind, you could find a wide range of book ideas at the book blog here. 

What is your favorite movie, and why?

Ok, I can't narrow this down to just one because that would be mean to the others. If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you can probably figure out that I love "Sleepless in Seattle" and "Dirty Dancing." And, to be fair to me and my tastes, I just haven't seen some classics like "Annie Hall." I was too busy watching romantic comedies so that I could shape the future of my love life in a really healthy way. 

But, if I had to choose just one, which really isn't fair, it'd be "When Harry Met Sally." I mean, was it even a contest? 

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Honestly, I'm really happy where I live right now. No complaints! But I'd love to have a getaway up in Vermont. Or Monte Carlo - same diff.

If you could have dinner with anyone (dead or alive) who would it be, and why?

Oh man. Really?? This is like that question where people want to know what your super power is and I can never think of a super power so I just say that I want my super power to be that I want to be able to change my super power whenever it's convenient. 

Notice how I didn't answer the question there? Yeah, let's blame it on the Tylenol PM and the fact that I may be asleep with my eyes open right now. 

If today was the last day of your life, how would you choose to spend it?

Not sleep-typing. 

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I would change the fact that I do not ever have an inside voice, like, ever. And that I sometimes forget that certain thoughts are for the inside. 

What impact do you want to leave on the world?

My awesome dance skilz. 

What is one fear that is holding you back?

The fear that I am actually asleep while typing this. Which actually would be awesome because then I would know that I could totally still function while sleeping which I would immediately then get patented because that's incredible and I'll retire and sleep-live all day long. 

If someone wrote a book about your life, what would the title be?

"The Girl Who Hated Pants." 

Ok, so I'm supposed to nominate others and ask them questions, but instead I'm just going to direct you to some of the blogs I check out regularly - actually, some of them are there on the right-hand side under "Stuff I Like." Also, make sure you click on Gina's link and send her some love, she's always been a big supporter of this blog and I can't thank her enough! 

But I also wouldn't be anywhere without my loyal followers, some of whom have blogs of their own! Here they are below (also, if you want to follow me by joining this site, please do! Or you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Pinterest. I'm all over this social networking thing! I think.)

FOLLOWERS

tp://thewritersklatch.blogspot.com/

http://www.katoninetales.com/

http://awkwardlyaliveandpleasantlypeculiar.blogspot.com/

http://sneathenfamily.blogspot.com/

http://sierravstheworld.blogspot.com/

http://tusdestos.blogspot.com/

http://nowthatiamitalian.blogspot.com/2012/10/that-is-what-is-up.html

http://captaindandelion.blogspot.com/2012/09/opening-my-door-letting-you-inside.html

http://betsys-closet.blogspot.com/

http://www.book-wormcorner.com/

http://www.lolaloop.com/

http://themisadventuresofcamcam.blogspot.com/

And then I watched a guy free fall through outer space while eating my lunch.

So this weekend I watched Felix Baumgartner jump from outer space and, like, land somewhere in New Mexico about 6 minutes later.

Let's all get real. We'd watch this
guy basically, like, stand in the middle
of the dessert. No need for deployment from a
space pod. You're dreamy. 

Can we all just take a minute and think about that? In between watching some football game, while sitting on a couch eating a sandwich, I was able to watch a man jump into outer space and land on earth on a Sunday afternoon. Also, I watched him free fall through said outer space and start to flip all around as the camera quickly came off of him and cut to everyone in ground control. Basically, their expressions turned from “Yay!” to “Oh crap, maybe letting a man jump from outer space by himself and free fall at 700 mph wasn’t a great idea.”

Thankfully, though, that whole spinning through the air and not breathing thing apparently happens when you, you know, jump out of a pod into outer space with nothing but a parachute. And he’s totally fine.

But what struck me was that when he landed, he just sort of took his helmet off, looked around at the people running towards him with cameras and stuff, and was like “Yeah, so I just did that. I think I’ll go have a beer.” No grandstanding, no huge ta-do.

Unlike 10 minutes later when I was back watching the football game and one of the players scored a touchdown and proceeded to do some ridiculous dance in the end zone for, like, 20 seconds.

Uh, you just did your job, dude. You get paid to do exactly what we just saw you do. You know what? I don’t dance every time I send an email or get high fived every time I leave a meeting. Also, if anyone in my office wants to do that for me, that’d be great.

Which got me to thinking and so I brought this up at work. You know, because that’s a really good way to show that you’re a hard worker and have your priorities firmly in order.

Me: I think I could handle one of the following: being paid a million dollars to do this or being cheered every time I did what they hired me to do.  

Co-worker: Pretty sure neither of those two things will happen.  

Me: But that’s my point. I think we’re missing a really great way to boost morale!  

Co-worker: But you just said how much you like your job.  

Me: Right. But think how much more I could like it if I was wearing diamond shoes right now, what with all of the millions I’d be making. OR if I was constantly bowing and saying thank you when I got a standing ovation for walking into a meeting. Though that might get tiring after awhile.  

Co-worker: Are these really things you think about?  

Me: Every day of my life.  

Co-worker: And all because you watched football and a guy jump from space this weekend?  

Me: Yup.  

Co-worker: I think having your mind would exhaust me.  

Me: It’s my lot in life. But just think what could happen if I used my powers for good instead of just thinking of what I’d do with a house full of chandeliers!  

Co-worker: I need to meet your boyfriend and shake his hand. 

Me: I think he’d prefer booze. 

Anyway……happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday Funday Wrapup!

It's Friday! Let's get to it.

First, as I've mentioned over the last few Friday posts, one of my best and dearest friends participates in the New York City Walk with Us To Cure Lupus Walkathon each year. I wanted to thank those of you who donated after reading these posts - you guys are amazing. 

THANK YOU. 

The walk is next Saturday, October 20th, so if you're still interested in learning more or making a donation, please click here. Thank you for helping us spread the word! 

***

So last night I was chatting with my older sister and was asking for her help via FaceTime on how to fix my clock that WON'T STOP BLINKING. This is what sister's do for each other. But after about 10 minutes of trying to fix it with me and laughing at me as I randomly hit buttons and yelled "It won't stop blinking!!!" she gave up, told me I had too many clocks anyway, and we said goodnight. 

So when I saw this video below of a sister giving some very helpful advice to her little brother, I couldn't help but laugh. Aren't big sister's the best? Always there for really the helpful pieces of advice. 

"You need to toughen up a bit." 

***

And now for the Video of the Week. (if you want to see any of the other videos from the wrapup, click here, here, or here.)

We went to a wedding this past weekend and the bride and her brother did a dance montage to various John Travolta movie songs (i.e. Pulp Fiction, Grease, Saturday Night Fever...) and it was pretty awesome. 

So, that inspired this week's Video of the Week. I'm sure most, if not all, of you have seen this before, but I think it's a fun way to end the Friday Wrapup. So go out there and dance a little this weekend and I'll see you all next week!

Happy Friday!

Why I refuse to be a Slutty Raisin and how Halloween has turned me into a really popular co-worker.

So, when I was getting dressed for work today I realized that this whole time I’ve been wearing drastically inappropriate clothing for my workplace. For years I’ve been donning pants, sweaters, and flats without noticing that this is totally wrong! Why didn’t anyone tell me? I’m so ashamed.

I need to get myself one of these
outfits for my next business trip.    

What I’m supposed to be doing, from what I can tell, is dressing like the “slutty book editor” that I so clearly am. Thankfully, though, Halloween costumes are teaching me a thing or two about being a woman. And a really hot corporate employee to boot!

While the workplace dress code handbook tells me that I can’t wear flip flops, it does not say that I can’t wear 5 inch heels and a skirt that just barely covers my hoo-ha. I mean, maybe it’s implied, but I’m pretty sure they’d be totally down with a ruffle top cut down to my cleavage and tied around my mid-section. Also, that’s totally what they mean when they say “Dress for the job you want, not the job you have”, right? I’m just guessing here.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m down with people dressing up for Halloween however they want. But let’s all just at least get on the same page about a few things, shall we?

1.  If you’re over thirty, please don’t wear these costumes. Unless you’re Heidi Klum or Madonna. And if you’re Madonna and reading this? I’ve totally won the blogging lottery. But don’t get me wrong – I’m over thirty and I think you can be in your dirty thirties and still rock it out (or your flirty forties and nifty fifties….). But can we also agree that sometimes you might not know you’ve gone ‘round the bend and everyone feels too embarrassed for you to tell you? And now you just look kind of slutty for no reason when all you really want is to be wearing sweats. Are we in agreement here?
2. If you’re under thirty and see me at the bar or a party during the Halloween season and you’re dressed as a slutty construction worker and I’m dressed as the Log Lady, let’s just pretend we don’t see each other, m’kay? And you have my permission to chat up CB when I’m over getting more crackers, too. It’ll make his night and then I don’t have to feel bad that I’ve just asked him 20 times when we can go home and watch “The Golden Girls.” Win/win.
3.  If you’re a guy, could you do us ladies a solid and at least try?  No, we don’t want you to be slutty because almost nobody looks good in a Speedo. But could you maybe try a little harder than writing “World’s Sexiest Man” across you’re ratty old under shirt in black Sharpie marker? I mean, you literally gave that no effort while us ladies have been dieting for 5 weeks and can’t even wear Spanx because the outfit we have on is too skimpy. I mean, throw us a bone.  
4.  If you’re anyone and you see a slutty hockey player leaving the bar unable to walk or hold up her own puck, please help her out so that the “World’s Sexiest Man” doesn’t get to her first. Deal? This happens every year and then I end up being the sober Log Lady barrel rolling some chick home who decided that being a Perky Peacock this year was a good idea. It’s never pretty by 1am and usually I end up with puke on my flannel.
5. If you have a child and she’s 13 years or younger, please don’t let her dress up like a slutty anything. Please. If not for her and her childhood, do it for me and my childhood. Know why? Because one year I went as a California Raisin and it was awesome. My dad made the costume (BOOM, that’s right! Dad rocks.) and I even wore his too-big-for-me (just barely) Converse sneakers. It was rad, I was rad, and nobody got scarred for life wondering if I was 13 or 21. Childhood doesn’t last long and so, while it might not be hip, it’s certainly worth preserving for as long as possible. Also, I promise I’m not some weird “Footloose”-type crazy who hates dancing and fun. I just sometimes get nervous when I see a little girl walking around in a half-shirt, freezing her patootie off because she thinks being a slutty cheerleader is the way to get extra Reeses. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not a bad trick. But I’m just going to put it out there right now that if you come to my door and you’re under 13 and dressed like a sleeping bag or something, you’re totally getting extra candy. I’m just sayin’.

Clearly my parents
went the Slutty Clown route. Hey, those
were the '70s for ya! 

Anyway, I’m glad we cleared that up so now we can all go and costume shop fully armed with all of this knowledge. 

So….what do you think I should be for Halloween this year? I’m open to suggestions, but CB’s already going as Honey Boo Boo, so that’s taken. J

Happy Thursday! 

And then there was the time that I ate out of the garbage.

I’m baaaaaaaaaack. So sorry to have ditched you for more than a week. I promise not to do that again! (until next time I have to go out of town on business).

Anyway, I have to admit that I’m still coming down off of the last week of various travels and so my brain isn’t working in its normal, obviously high functioning way. Also, to give you an example of how high functioning my mind typically is, this conversation happened between CB’s mom and me this weekend while we were in the Poconos Mountains:

Me: It’s so beautiful here, all the leaves changing, the mountains…..
CBM: It really is, it’s so peaceful.
Me: So what mountains are those, anyway?
CBM, staring at me because I’m an idiot: Uh, the Poconos Mountains…you know, because that’s where we are.
Me: Oh yeah, that totally makes sense!

In my defense, this could be anywhere
beautiful. With mountains. 

 And then she immediately sent CB a secret text message asking him to please break up with me so that we wouldn’t potentially have stupid children with sparkle shoes some day.

Whatever, I blame it on the fact that I was still delirious from my travels earlier in the week and so my ability to understand geography and how things are named totally went right into the garbage. And speaking of garbage, I had to eat my breakfast out of the trash on Sunday morning because CB hibernates like a bear in the winter time.

I know, right? Our pretend kids would totally have it made.

Let me explain. On Saturday, CB’s cousin and I drove over together and decided that we absolutely had to have car snacks. I mean, we were going to be traveling for nearly two hours, and if I’m in the car longer than about 20 minutes, you best have some treats or I might get cranky! So we got some goldfish crackers and did our best to make it to the bottom of the bag in 120 minutes or less. Unfortunately, it was a narrow miss and so I brought the remainder up to the room and threw the bag in the garbage.

Fast forward to the following morning when CB decided to sleep as long as humanly possible.

The first two hours were bearable. I took pictures of the sun rising over the Poconos MOUNTAINS, read a bit, and even laid in bed and tried to will myself back to sleep. There were a few times that I decided to interrupt CB’s snoring to ask him if he was “ready to eat yet?” and then got secretly annoyed with him for not understanding that my question had absolutely nothing to do with him or his food needs and everything to do with mine.

However, after my very obvious attempts at distracting myself and selflessly offering to help nourish my boyfriend in his sleepy time of need, my stomach started screaming at me because it doesn’t like to go without sustenance almost immediately upon waking up.

And that’s when I started to get desperate.

I dug around at the bottom of my bag to see if I’d forgotten about any plane treats from my earlier trip that were just sitting there begging to be eaten. I found a lint-y mint, but it tasted like keys and I have my standards, so that was a no-go.

So then I contemplated going downstairs by myself to eat breakfast, but then had visions of his family all thinking I was a selfish a-hole who couldn’t wait for the rest of them, which would obviously lead to them all sending CB more secret texts about our stupid and selfish pretend future kids. So that was a no-go, too.

Then finally, it hit me. Garbage Goldfish.

The scene of the crime. 

I’m not saying it was my proudest moment, but I’d also be lying if I said it was one of my worst.

Like an Olympic athlete sprinting to the finish line, I ran over to the garbage, saw the golden goodness staring back at me….and dug right in. But of course this is when CB decides to wake up, look over and say “Are you eating out of the garbage?”

I chose not to answer because my mouth was full, and so I just waved him back to sleep and went into the closet to eat in peace. And while in said closet, I decided to text my friends to get a reading on just how weird this actually was. I mean, sitting in a closet eating goldfish crackers for breakfast at a hotel doesn’t seem that bad, but again, my brain wasn’t at its most high-functioning, so I wanted some back-up.

And this is what I got:

Friend #1: “You missed one meal and now you’re apparently living like a homeless person! I always pack emergency snacks in my suitcase for just such occasions.”

Friend #2: “You ate the garbage goldfish?! Sweet Lord. I really hope (CB) appreciates the treasure he’s found in you. You’re like a helpless child. Go get yourself some coffee. If they sleep like normal people, you’ve got about another half hour to wait, so you might want to find some nourishment from somewhere other than the garbage. Put pants on, run out for coffee, come back, and I can promise either no one will notice or they’ll be grateful you can fend for yourself.”

Judge’s ruling on how we feel about my friends knowing full well that I hate pants and so, most likely, I was eating Garbage Goldfish pants-less in the closet?

Also, if you’re at all related to CB: I’m sorry he didn't fall for someone normal.

Happy Tuesday, everyone! So happy to be back!

A not real Friday Funday Wrapup!

Happy Friday! Let's get to it.

So as you know, I was traveling for work this week and so this wrapup won't be the best. Actually, it's not much of a wrapup at all. I've got nothin', people! I'm the worst.

BUT, I'll be back next week with what I hope are some entertaining tales of my trip this week.

Thanks for putting up with me and my archives while I was away, and because you did, I'm doing one last dig for you....enjoy and see you all next week!

Is it just me, or is the ASPCA inadvertently causing cruelty to humans by trying to prevent cruelty to animals? Because for real, if I hear that Sarah McLaughlin commercial one more time before I can plug my ears and close my eyes and blindly search for the remote, I will lose it. I cannot look at a picture of a puppy or a kitten who needs my love because then I’d for sure end up on Animal Hoarders, most likely wearing my rhinestone cat sweater.

Also, the reason this occurred to me is because a Sarah McLaughlin song just came on Pandora and I had a knee-jerk “skip this song” reaction to her melodic, angel-like voice. Thanks a lot, ASPCA.

My love for animals is like ice cream and every time I hear your voice my soul begins to cry. Thanks a lot for the pick-me-up, Sarah.

So, I’ve decided that I disagree with the definition of insanity. Also, totally unrelated, have you guys ever gotten into an argument with a vending machine?

For the record, I totally knew I was right and the vending machine was wrong. I could see the Snickers bar just sitting there. There were, like, 4 of them in a row. But every time I put my dollar in and pushed the button, it told me to choose another selection. Um, I would like the Snickers, thank you. And quit judging me, candy machine. Also, the slogan on top of the machine said “Making snacks happen.”

Lies.

Finally, in a rage induced by no chocolate, I went back to my desk and “worked.” And by “worked” I mean thought about why the candy machine wouldn’t take my dollar. Eventually, my deep thinking skills convinced me that if I just kept trying, I would, in fact, get that snack to happen.

Result: Becky: 0; Judgmental Candy Machine: 1

 

Clearly not at all insane from a very young age.

Digging into the archives for some gems....

I promise to bring you a fresh Friday Funday Wrapup tomorrow, but since I'm on the last leg of my travel excursion today, I'm digging into the archives to bring you one of my first ever blog posts. My mom reminded me of this one last night and it seemed appropriate...enjoy!

So, I experienced a turning point in my life this weekend, a pivotal event saved for momentous times like turning 40, your first child, or finding a $20 in your jeans - which is, by far, the best of all three. Disagree? Let me ask you this: do kids come out of you holding a big wad of money? No? Right. So I win.

Anyway, like most turning points in life, this one was masked by the mundane of an early Saturday morning. Sun coming up behind the buildings, dogs out for their early morning walks, and me, ready to start my day with a jolt of caffeine from my favorite Dunkin Donuts crew on the corner. I walk in, place my order, and patiently wait as they make my coffee.

And then it happened.

“Um….ma’am?”

My heart stopped. My blood cooled. My brow furrowed. Ma’am? MA’AM?! When did that happen? I mean, I know I’ve been busy lately and all, and maybe I haven’t been paying as much attention as I should be to the time, and there was that one time a few weeks ago that I drank an extra glass of wine and stayed up too late, creating those weird crevices in my face from passing out face down on a scratchy pillow, but I surely haven’t entered the ma’am stage of the game…right?

I suppose I should also point out that the entire reason I just got aged 70 years is because I, perhaps, was still, allegedly, wearing what is an incredibly stylish, hot pink, velvet eye mask. On my forehead. But whatever.

Quit being so judge-y, readers. Like you’ve never left the house with a curler still in your hair when you got to work? (check) Or only one earring in? (check) Or two different shoes on? (totally normal. And check.)

Whatever. I’m a ma’am.

"I d like a medium iced coffee, light and sweet....why are you staring?"

Still on hiatus...only a 50/50 chance that I'm wearing pants.

Since I'm in business travel mode this week and obviously a consummate professional, I don't have a ton of time to be blogging. This week. Well, today. Or tomorrow or Thursday. But I'll get on here for a fresh Friday Funday Wrapup, so don't worry, I won't forsake you completely this week.

However, a faithful blog reader sent me this link today that I loved. Except then I started to feel guilt over not technically writing anything real this week and then I was all like "way to make me feel bad, McSweeney's." And then I realized that I didn't finish all of my coffee today and so perhaps I was cranky at an internet link for little to no reason.

Anyway, most of this week I'll just be going through my shallow archives for stuff maybe you would either (a) enjoy again or (b) discover for the first time. Win/win! So let's get to it:

I think I might hate pants.

To be fair, I think I might hate shorts, too. And skirts. And basically anything that’s not just my plain old adorable underwear. Also, I only hate these items when I’m safely in the privacy of my own home. I mean, I’m a lady, guys, c’mon.

However, my problem lies in the fact that, if left to my own devices, I become the crazy cat lady who stays indoors for hours at a time with no pants on, cleaning, reading, generally just enjoying a pants-free lifestyle while simultaneously becoming the person I am on the outside: completely f'ing oblivious.

And therein lies the rub.

You see, it’s possible that I sometimes forget that I’m not wearing pants. And one might think this would be hard to do, but it’s surprisingly easy! Oh, also, this is why it has shocked all of my friends and family that I’m able to somehow live alone and not, you know, die. Or get arrested for indecent exposure.

Anyway, totally unrelated, this weekend I met some new neighbors in my building. Please note that I’ve lived in the same apartment for almost a decade and have met about 4 people that entire time. Not because I’m anti-social, but because this isn’t an environment where neighbors really meet. We don’t have shared common space and I don’t cook here, so I never need to borrow butter or flour or whatever it is people use to cook. And apart from the year that the people who lived above me played some sort of jumping up and down in place game for 6 hours on a Tuesday or Wednesday night for an entire summer, I’ve never been the person who pounds on the ceiling with a broom. Allegedly. So really, how would one meet their neighbors?

I’ve got one answer for you.

You see, on Saturday I went into one of my Tasmanian Devil-like cleaning frenzies where I literally spend hours just cleaning everything and anything in my apartment. And that’s one of my most favorite pastimes, likely because I’m intensely cool. But it was also warm and humid this weekend, especially in my hotbox of an apartment where any heat that comes in gets multiplied by a billion and then just sits in the air. Hence, the no pants thing.

I mean, on a normal day it’s pants-optional in my household, but on a day like that it was just a given. And while I’ve been quite the risk-taker in my day, I’ve never really been an exhibitionist. Except for maybe that one time I lifted my dress in church during kids time up in the front of the congregation where all of the little ones gathered to listen to Bible stories. But I was super little and that’s adorable when you’re super little. And also not at all frowned upon by Jesus.

You can totally tell  that I am NOT happy about the pants-wearing. However, I was digging the faux fur collar.

But this weekend, I wasn’t even being told church stories and for whatever reason, I basically lifted up my dress to my neighbor. Except I did it in the form of just walking into the hallway without pants on. Like a crazy person. If I’d had curlers in my hair and lipstick around the outside of my lips, it’d totally make sense. But instead, I was just wearing a tank top and, might I add, some super-cute underwear. Cuz that’s how I roll.

Alright, brace yourselves because this is how it went down:

Me: walked out into the hallway, sans pants, carrying a garbage bag.

Neighbor: walked out of his apartment at the same time, looked at me, and immediately turned around, I think potentially laughing. Probably out of horror and utter shock.

Me: Stood there for a second, secretly judging my super-antisocial neighbor. Fast-forward to two seconds later when I looked down, yelped, and ran back into the apartment with the garbage.

So let’s just have a moment of silence for that encounter.

Aaaaaand you’re welcome.

Scene of the crime. Except in this photo, no neighbors were scarred for life. Allegedly.