Friday, November 30, 2012

Friday Funday Wrapup! Plus, please shave your faces, guys. For real.

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

First of all, thank you to everyone who submitted some HILARIOUS stories to my inbox yesterday after reading about my eventful trip to the doctor. While most of you admitted that I did make you feel better about your own personal experiences, I'm glad to know that at least some of you tend to think the way I do in these uncomfortable situations and for that, we should all be frightened.


Unless you're this guy, please shave.
And if you ARE this guy, please call me.
Alright, I know this is incredibly controversial stuff and that's why you tune in every Friday, but I need to take a stand against something taking over the nation:

Movember .

Now hear me out: I'm all for raising awareness for prostate cancer and think that it's a noble cause. However, I'm pretty sure if you ask the (conservatively) 200,000 men sporting non-ironic stupid moustaches in SoHo right now what it means, they'd have no clue.

Case in point: there's a guy at my gym who, best I can tell, sports this moustache every November in support of this cause. And since, up until yesterday, I didn't know what the "cause" was, I decided to ask him.

Me: Are you sporting that for Movember?
Him: Yep! I'm sort of sad I have to shave this weekend.
Me: what's the whole point behind Movember?
Him: Uh...what do you mean?
Me: I mean, why are guys sporting moustaches all month? Obviously it's not because it looks good, so....what is it?
Him: I don't know, I think it's just a thing.
Me: Uh, that doesn't make any sense. 

And then I googled it.

So perhaps Movember actually has been successful since it coerced me into researching why everyone in the Village looks like a 70s porn star though, to be fair, that's not that out of the ordinary...

Anyway, on this the last day in November, spread the word, take care of your health, and for God's sake - shave your faces already!


And since I clearly have nothing else going on to blog about this week, we'll get right to the Video of the Week!

I thought this might help us all get into the holiday spirit and hopefully have a good laugh, so enjoy!

Happy Friday, everyone! 

Thursday, November 29, 2012

On how The Mindy Project gets you through tough times and why flashing strangers gets you a free meal.

There are times in your life that are life affirming and soul crushing. There are times in your life that you laugh so hard you cry, and cry so hard you laugh. And then there are the times in your life that you wish you could crawl under a table and die.

And those moments happen to me about once a week. Luckily for you, the most recent happened this morning and I’m choosing to share it with you because, well, it’ll make you all feel better about yourselves. And that’s what I’m here for.

So this morning I had an appointment with the doctor for my annual checkup. No prob, right? Totally. I got this. I’m all over my annual, and my doctor loves me. Mainly because every time I go to her she has a really fun talk with me about my age and rapidly dying reproductive organs. It’s a good time, we all have a good laugh, and I leave there feeling better about myself than when I walked through the door. 

Wait, what’s that? That’s not what happens at all? You are correct. That’s actually how I’m assuming she feels. I usually walk out of there and then have a panicked conversation with CB that makes him feel really uncomfortable and pretend he’s lost the ability to hear things.

Anyway, today I decided that I was going to do everything in my power to avoid the “geriatric pregnancy” conversation and you’ll all be glad to know that I succeeded. However, I now need to find a new doctor because what happened has rendered me unable to ever even walk by the office, let alone go back into it.

So there I am all ready to go, hanging out on the table and just generally enjoying life. The doctor comes in and I’m immediately taken off guard because it’s some dude in a sport coat I’ve never seen before. He introduces himself, starts making small talk about the weather and Thanksgiving, and because my brain works in overdrive when I have anxiety about uncomfortable situations, I decided to just go right ahead and make this as awkward as possible early on.

I mean, why not just cut to the chase?  We all know where this is going and so I’m just going to speed things along.

Me: So is it weird when you have new patients?
Doc: Weird?
Me: Yeah, I mean, we get pretty intimate pretty fast and we just met! Aren’t you going to buy me dinner first?
Doc, getting super red: Uh…..
Me: I’m just kidding! I know that’s a really overused joke but it seemed appropriate.

You see now this is where, in most people’s minds, they’d just stop talking and let the appointment happen. But instead, I started rambling on about “The Mindy Project” and basically re-telling an entire episode to him as he started the exam, talking about “un-lamp-like feelings” and anything else I could remember.

Why? Because my brain betrays me at very inopportune times and also because I’m a panic-talker.

So finally this horrible conversation is over. Though, to be fair, when I say “conversation,” I actually mean “monologue” because I think he must’ve done one of those things that people do when they’re dying and sort of float outside of their own bodies so he could pretend this whole thing wasn’t happening. Because he literally didn’t say a word except one time when he half-heartedly asked me what “un-lamp-like feelings” meant and then I got into a tailspin explaining it and then he took off his gloves and left the room.

Also, and this is important, I think it’s possible that he mumbled something like “you can put your clothes back on.” However, I did not hear this mumble and so, instead, I sat in the quiet, stark room in my paper suit, waiting patiently for someone to come back in and tell me how to behave like a normal patient.

And so I waited. And waited. And finally just started reading the names aloud of random female body parts that were identified on the lady parts poster hanging in the room. And then I picked up the lady parts model sitting on the table and moved the uterus all over the place like a rubix cube.

What? That’s totally normal.

Anyway, by this point, no exaggeration, I’m pretty sure 5-10 minutes went by. And I started to wonder if we were done and if, perhaps, I should put my clothes back on. So I hopped off the table, turned around, and bent over to pick up my clothes from the the nurse brought another patient into the room.

Hello, Expectant Mother, I am Becky’s backside. Nice to meet you.

Someone shrieked – it may or may not have been me – and somehow the lady parts model ended up on the floor, uterus rolling across the tile as I scrambled for my underpants and to close the back of my “gown.” And I did that thing you do when you panic put on anything and I started just randomly shoving limbs into leg holes and had my underpants on backwards.

Also, can we just all get on board right now and agree that these need a new name? I’m not walking in a pageant or on the red carpet, I’m being violated by a stranger in a sport coat with a paper sheet across my front and confusing ties all over that never line up properly. So let’s leave the word “gown” behind and call it….paper dress. Deal?

Whatever, it’s totally fine. I mean, we’re all ladies, we’ve seen it before, and who doesn’t want to start off their Thursday morning looking at someone else’s Irish goods? I’m just saying, I mean, I’m a good time.

So finally I get clothed, sheepishly exit into the hallway where I can totally hear you all talking about me, and say “Ok, see you next year!” as if this was all totally normal.

But just as I was grabbing the handle to never set foot in this office again, Dr. Sport Coat said “Next time I’ll definitely buy you dinner first!”

Boom. Well played, Sport Coat, well played.

Happy Thursday, everyone! 

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

And then I got all deep and philosophical while maybe not wearing a bra on the train.

Ok so I like to consider myself all enlightened and worldly and a totally independent woman, akin to my soul sister Beyonce. But lately I’ve realized that I’m kind of none of those things when it comes to standing on a bus. Or a train. Or really doing anything that requires extra physical exertion during my daily commute while a man sits down and reads his paper all bragg-y and non-chivalrously.  And I'm really starting to get on my nerves.

I mean, dude. No contest. 
You see, I was raised knowing that, being a girl, I could pretty much do anything a guy could do, plus some. Like alright, a guy can probably, in general, lift heavier things than me. Unless it’s one of those hipster guys who has a moustache and wears ironic shirts around Brooklyn, in which case I can definitely lift heavier things than him and also not get on everyone’s nerves every waking moment of the day. Plus, I can totally have babies, theoretically, even though I haven’t proven that yet and everywhere I go people try to remind me that my clock is ticking and so I really should get on with it already.

So anyway, I already know that I’ve got this woman thing handled, and because of people like Gloria Steinem and Madonna, I can go both bra-less OR sport the cone bra and it doesn’t make me lesser than or better than or pretty much anything other than incredibly uncomfortable in both scenarios. So when I find myself getting irrationally annoyed with man strangers on a bus, I have very conflicted feelings about my frustration and then I get all confused, tired, hungry, and basically just take it out on some male co-worker for no reason at some point during the day.

See? Told you I was a woman.

But answer me this: is it possible to be both a feminist, without all of the weird, negative connotations attached to it, and also really want the 25 year old guy in a suit more expensive than everything I own to get up and offer me his seat on a crowded train?

No? Yes? I need answers, people! 

Perhaps it’s the years of realizing that I (or some other woman) am usually the one who offers my seat to the elderly person or pregnant woman on public transportation. And then the guilty guy next to me does the half get-up that he feels obligated to charade for all to see once he realizes that he was a complete a-hole for not doing this in the first place.

Thanks for fighting for my
right to be cray-cray.
So then obviously I do the polite thing and decline while secretly judging him for the rest of the ride and feeling superior for my selflessness. I mean, duh.

But if I was truly playing the equal-but-equal card, I should be no less inclined to get up off my keister than Gordon Gekko over there and not think twice about it, right? Is it possible to demand equality but also want the guy to sometimes hold the door for me and offer his seat to the ladies?

Is it insulting? Am I over-thinking this? Is it lunchtime yet? I’m exhausted.

Help me out here, what do you think? 

Monday, November 26, 2012

And then I got lost in a sea of Irish people and champagne.

Growing up in the Midwest with my sister and parents, I spent Thanksgiving reading quietly by the fire, eating really tasty turkey and birthday cake, playing a game of Taboo or Trivial Pursuit, and calling it a night before the 11 o’clock news came on.  We laughed, we ate, and we had enough quiet moments throughout the day to reflect on what we were thankful for and to, you know, nap.

Uh, I’m going out on a limb here now to say that no one in CB’s family has ever experienced a moment like this in their lives. Or have ever related to such a moment on, like, “Little House on the Prairie” or any other family drama that shows people sitting around quietly.

Oh also, just before Thanksgiving next year go ahead and buy a lot of stock in Moët – trust me. And you’re welcome.

Speaking of holding your own, you don't
even have to hold your own WINE in
this family! Also, nobody was actually
headless on Thanksgiving. 
However, I do want to sincerely thank CB's entire family for welcoming me with open arms, making me laugh until I cried, and teaching me how to hold my own in the biggest family I’ve ever seen outside of “19 Kids and Counting.” Also, they basically gave me enough material to fill the next several weeks on this blog, and so I will accept gifts in the form of cash or Sephora gift cards to bribe me into keeping quiet.

Anyway, this was my first Thanksgiving with this giant Irish clan and I must say that it lived up to the hype. Except that I survived, and it actually sounded as if I might not in the weeks leading up to the big day while various family members looked me up and down and said “No really…are you sure you want to do this?”

Um, no?

But I totally consider that a win for me because I’m pretty sure our relationship would’ve ended on Friday morning had I not been able to hang with this giant, raucous, insanely friendly, funny group of approximately 245 cousins. The fact that CB basically made me a family flow chart in the days before Thanksgiving gave me anxiety that rendered me unable to sleep for fear of forgetting which cousin belonged to which of his 72 aunts and uncles.

However, I was fortunate enough this year that I’d given his family way too much material to use against CB, therefore deflecting the attention off of me and letting it ricochet right on over to him.

I know, right? Girlfriend of the Year, ladies and gentleman.

You see, this little blog seems to have given CB’s family more than enough fodder to use against me, CB, and basically anyone else that is unlucky enough to find their way into one of my pants-less stories. Yet one in particular seemed to resonate throughout the sea of family members more than the rest, making its way to the Thanksgiving table as we dove into our green bean casserole.

Now to be fair, I totally knew something was up from the moment I walked into the house. While everyone was greeting each other, catching up, and basically just enjoying the day, I was being followed by the eerie feeling that CB’s Cousin Matt was being way too nice to me. He smiled, he hugged me, he said “Happy Thanksgiving” …

Something was definitely wrong.

I mean, when Cousin Nikki does that? She’s just being Nikki. When Matt does that? He’s up to something. And I was onto him.

Me: Uh, why is Matt being so weird?
CB: He’s being weird?
Me: Dude, he’s being way too nice. He hasn’t put me in a headlock ONCE and it’s been, like, an hour. He also hasn’t mentioned me eating in the garage. I’m telling you, he’s up to something.
CB: Nah, he’s probably just done giving you crap because you made it to Thanksgiving.
Me: He’s definitely not done giving me crap. I’m watching him.

Cut to: Sitting down at the incredibly long Thanksgiving table, saying grace, and digging in.

Me: Man, it’s really hot in here isn’t it?
Trip, sly smile coming across his face: You know, you’re right. It is hot in here. Isn’t it Matt?
Me, ignoring them both because I was distracted by food.

Ziiiiiiip. Ziiiiiiiip. Hoodies removed. And then it happened.

Also not an actual headless person.
Um, and photography isn't my strong suit.
I think I had one hand on the gravy bowl
when I took this. 
I glanced across the table to see Matt sitting there with a giant grin on his face and a t-shirt that said “Smitten Kitten.” Then Trip, sitting next to me, turned around to reveal the back: “CB is one cool cat.”

 And then I burst out laughing.

However, in between laughter I think I may have heard obscenities coming from my left, which is totally weird because that’s where CB was sitting.

Also, he’s really happy to be dating me and watching our lives unfold on a blog for his entire family to read about on a weekly basis.

But let’s get real, you guys, he’s totally a Smitten Kitten and has been since day one. So let’s see how we can figure out a way to top that story for next year’s family Thanksgiving, shall we?

Happy Monday, everyone, I hope you had a great holiday! 

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Why it's sort of shocking that my parents didn't self-medicate and the thankful Thanksgiving wrapup.

So before I head out to celebrate Thanksgiving and gather what I can only imagine will be some killer stories for the blog next week, I just wanted to write one more post about what I'm thankful for.

Figuring out my good side and
my lighting. Obviously.
So when I was little, I was totally a good time. I'd paint my doll's nails with bright red nail polish, spill it all over the brand new carpet, and then hide under my bed right next to the spill so that no one would ever know I did it OR find me. I was a genius from a very early age and it's a wonder my parents didn't just enroll me in MENSA right then and there.

I'd also do charming wood carvings in the form of my name on our kitchen table, would get into my mom's makeup so I could totally be as glamorous as she is, and put on her high heels and flow-y dresses so I could prance around the house in the style to which I definitely wanted to grow accustomed.

I'd sing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" over and over in the car with my dad, harmonizing so perfectly that I was convinced we'd get discovered and be on Star Search. Dude, I could've totally met Justin Timberlake AND Tiffany! How could we go wrong? And I'd make my family sit in the living room for what probably felt like hours to watch my entire album-length choreographed dance routine to Madonna's "Like a Virgin."

But let's get real, my parents had to see that coming a mile away and so I blame them for even buying it for me in the first place. Also, when I say "choreographed" I mean I moved back and forth and spun around a few times for 5 songs while wearing my mom's boots, a flow-y dress, and costume jewelry.

All of this was much to the dismay of my older sister who really just wanted me to be quiet so she could watch "3-2-1 Contact" and/or do puzzles. But puzzles weren't my thing as a kid, I was much too busy pretending I was waiting tables or answering phones or doing something else equally incredible.

The late 70s were good
to us all. 
So, to get me back she'd come into my room late at night to tell me all about her dreams involving unicorns and werewolves and would try, in vain, to show me that there was more to life than dressing up and striving to marry David Banner from The Hulk. To be fair, I also wanted to marry Jack from "Three's Company," so I learned at an early age to keep my options open.

Anyway, as I reflect upon the things that I'm thankful for this and every year, I'm fortunate enough to count those in my immediate family as some of the closest and dearest people in my life. I wouldn't be the sparkle shoe-wearing, Ice and Coco-obsessed, Golden Girls-worshiping being you see before you if it wasn't for these people. They have embraced and encouraged me to be who I am and have been huge supporters of the blog from day one.

Between my family, friends, CB and his family and friends, I've won the lottery of life. I really am humbled by their continued love, support, and laughter, and am grateful that they all let me splatter their lives across the pages of this blog so I can entertain you all. This blog wouldn't exist without all of them and you and so I'm thankful for that on this Thanksgiving Eve.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I'll be back at you next week with lots of tales to tell, and since there's no Friday Wrapup this week, I'll leave you with this video that is sure to please. Enjoy!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

And then a gangsta rapper and I went out for ice cream. In my head.

My new BFF's.

So in this week of giving thanks, I’m pretty sure it’s obvious who next on the list is: Ice and Coco.

I mean, there’s the obvious list of things to be thankful for when it comes to the world of Ice and Coco, but number one for me at the moment is the fact that they are opening an indoor dog park down the street from my apartment and I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Also, CB couldn’t be more thrilled when we had this conversation about it the other night.

Me: I love Ice and Coco.
CB, silence.
Me: And now we’re totally going to become friends.
CB: Oh yeah? You’re going to become friends with Ice and Coco?
Me: Totally! I think we’ll take an instant liking to each other.
CB: Yeah, I’m sure you and Ice would have a lot to talk about.
Me: We definitely would. Also, they’re opening an indoor dog park down the street and so all I have to do is hang out there all the time and eventually I’ll run into one or both of them. And then we’ll become friends.
CB: Tell Ice that you loved the album “Cop Killer.”
Me: Dude. I need to build this friendship on honesty. He’ll take one look at me and know for sure that I’ve never heard that album.
CB: But it’ll show that you’re a fan from back in the day.
Me: I’ll just tell him how much I love “Law and Order: SVU.”
CB: Nah, you need to mention “Cop Killer.”
Me: No way! Not a chance. First of all, I don’t condone cop killing and so I think we need to just move past that. Second of all, look at me.
CB, looking.
Me: Right? There’s no WAY he’ll believe that.
CB: Yeah, you’ve got a point.
Me: Anyway, I can’t wait for them to open it because it’s going to be awesome and Mary is totally going to be jealous that I met Ice and Coco before she did.
CB: Have you considered the fact that you don’t have a dog to bring to this dog park?
Me: I actually did consider that, but I’ll just borrow one.
CB: You’re going to borrow a dog?
Me: Sure! Maybe I can borrow Cody.
CB: You’re going to borrow my cousin’s dog so that you can meet Ice and Coco?
Me: Um, duh. That’s what family is for.
CB: Please don’t bring this up at Thanksgiving.

Anyway, other than Ice and Coco, I'm also thankful for these guys today. I really can't get enough of 'em. 

Happy Tuesday, everyone! 

Monday, November 19, 2012

Why binge drinking is good practice for the holidays and why my blog readers rock.

So as you all know, this weekend was Beerathon. And the mere fact that I am typing this right now should tell you one thing: I am a champion. Also, I’m alive.

This is what I normally
wear for birthdays/holiday
parties. I think CB's family
will be extremely impressed.
But whatever, I’m totally an adult you guys. I mean, I’m merely days away from a seminal birthday and so I’ve obviously figured out how to do this up right while still being a functioning member of society the next day. Or, as functioning as I normally am, and really, that’s more than any of us expected, isn’t it?

Speaking of functional, it should be noted that while some of my fellow Beerathoners decided to do a little pants-optional binge drinking towards the end of the night, I was not one of the culprits, and for that we should all say a little prayer of thanks. Oh, and when I say “some” I mean “one” and you know who you are. Matt.

But what should terrify everyone (though mainly me) about this whole thing is that I was repeatedly told that this was good “practice” for Thursday. Yeah, as in “Beerathon is a great way to train for Thanksgiving!”

So let’s break this down: if this is foreshadowing of what's to come on Thursday, at some point in the day my pants won’t fit, I will cease all conversation with CB for precisely an hour, I’ll get buzzed, then hungry, then sleepy, and all while having to keep my pants on THE WHOLE TIME.

It might get ugly.

But this is kind of a very big deal, you guys, this whole going to Thanksgiving with CB thing, and I totally want to get invited back. So while I’m working on memorizing the flow chart of people in attendance, while bracing myself for the fact that I may have to eat in the garage and/or get head butted and/or body slammed by the pants-optional culprit from this weekend, I’m also really not wanting to be CB’s lame-o girlfriend who ate too much stuffing and fell asleep at 7.

It’s been known to happen.

But whatever, it’s going to be the best. The only thing better would be if my family was here with me, but since I’m gracing them with my glittery presence in less than a month, I figured I should spare them some peace on at least one national holiday.

So in honor of this momentous occasion and, you know, the holiday itself, I’d like to give thanks this week for the randomness and awesomeness that is this thing I call my life. And I figured I’d start off by thanking all of YOU, the readers who check out the blog every day or week or month – if you’re reading this right now, I’m thanking you!

I started this earlier in the year so that Courtney would quit bugging me already, and it’s grown into something I couldn’t even imagine. Reading your comments, hearing you reference a post, seeing CB’s popularity grow and grow as he becomes a larger than life voice of reason for the ever crazier events of his completely sane and always stable girlfriend…..all of it has enriched these last several months in ways you couldn’t even imagine.

So I’m thankful for you and am looking forward to the next year of whatever lies ahead. 

Happy Monday, everyone! What are you thankful for this year?

Confidential to an early adopter of the blog: 

Happy birthday!

Friday, November 16, 2012

Friday Funday Wrapup!

Please get older faster so the rest
of us can stop feeling like
creepy old ladies. 

TGIF, everyone! We all know what that means, so….let’s get to it!

First of all, I got an overwhelming response from you guys regarding my little list of people I think could’ve totally beaten out Channing Tatum for Sexiest Man of theYear. See, this is why you’re loyal readers – you get me, I get you, and you tell me when I’m wrong. Check out the comments section from that post if you’re curious to see what others have suggested, but basically the moral of the story is: Bradley Cooper is God. And maybe Bruce Willis. Also, some of us might accidentally get arrested for watching a Zach Efron movie one too many times.


So do you guys remember that post a few months ago where I talked about how awesomely bad I am at math? 

Well, I just have one thing to say: I KNEW it!!!

I KNEW that I wasn’t just being overly dramatic when I used to yell “Math is trying to kill me!” every time I’d attempt to figure out some stupid story problem. Check it out

BOOM. You just got served, math.


Um, so tomorrow I’m going to something called Beerathon. Wish me luck. I’m sorry to you ahead of time, my liver.

But we’ll also be celebrating CB’s cousin’s birthday, who has told me in the past that I have free reign to use his name. So….happy early birthday, Trip! I promise to try to make it all day without falling asleep in a beer-induced coma at the bar.

And now for the Video of the Week! In honor of the fact that we’re less than a week away from Thanksgiving, I thought it’d be appropriate to make this week’s video somewhat of a theme. I’ve actually loved this song for years now and it’s because it sums up better than I ever could how I feel about my friends and family.

You guys have been there through everything – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the boring. You’ve stunned me with your generosity, your kindness, your humor, your wisdom, and your ability to down Oreos mano-a-mano with me when need-be. And this year I’m fortunate enough to add a whole other slew of people to that list of awesome, kind, generous, fun, funny folks in the form of CB and his entire family and friends.

I’m one lucky gal, so to say thanks…I’ll let someone else sing it for me. Enjoy! 

Happy Friday, everyone! Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

He's sexy and he knows it. Yet I still disagree with this choice.

So I realize that you guys come to this blog each week for the latest breaking news, really intense debate over issues that matter, and stories about how I may or may not have been wearing pants. Well, today you’ll get two out of three for one very good reason:

People Magazine announced the Sexiest Man of the Year today.

I know, right? Channing Tatum? Really, PEOPLE?

And because I have a lot to do at work and really am always setting an example for others, I decided to take a poll of the two guys who sit near me at work to see what they thought of this obvious error on the part of PEOPLE.

Me: So what do you think of People’s Sexiest Guy of the Year choice this year?
Co-worker #1: Eh, I’m not impressed.
Me: Right? Though I am impressed that you even knew what I was talking about.
Co-worker #1: I’m in the know.
Me: Obviously. So who would you have chosen?
Co-worker #1: Oh I don’t know, I’ve always been a fan of Ryan Gosling, in a straight way of course.
Me: Of course. And also, this is why we work, you understand things like how Ryan Gosling should be the Sexiest Man. These are the things I look for in a good co-worker.
Co-worker #1: Glad I could help.
Me, turning around to talk to my other male co-worker and interrupting what looked to be a work spreadsheet of some sort: And what about you?
Co-worker #2: So what are we talking about?
Me: Uh, the Sexiest Man Alive.
Co-worker #2: Oh, right. Is that done by Vogue or something?
Me: Are you serious?
Co-worker #2: I don’t know, that sounds like something Vogue would do. Or some other woman’s magazine.
Co-worker #1: It’s People.
Co-worker #2: Oh, oh right. Uh, who’s the Sexiest Man?
Me: Did you seriously think it was determined by Vogue?
Co-worker #2: Honestly, I don’t even know what’s happening right now.
Me: Well they chose Channing Tatum.
Co-worker #2: Who?
Me: Channing Tatum. He kind of looks like every guy who works out at the local gym. He was in….Magic Mike? Step Up? The Vow….
Co-worker #1: 21 Jump Street….the not Jonah Hill guy.
Co-worker #2: Oh yeah! I know who that is. Huh. That’s an interesting choice.
Me: I disagree with it.
Co-worker #1: It’s amazing they didn’t consult you first.
Me: It really is.

However, had they thought to consult me first, I could’ve given them a list of men who I’ve never met who deserve to be on that list more than Not-Jonah-Hill Guy.

Hey guys, real quick, could you
help me find my shirt? 
But before I do, I must acknowledge that I’m not standing in a unanimous pool of everyone with eyes who knows that Channing Tatum isn’t attractive. For example, some of you might remember my chat with Julia Allison earlier this year where she put him on her list! I call technical foul on that one.

Therefore, to right PEOPLE’s wrong, I have made my own list of men much more worthy. Also, I have the utmost respect for men and do not believe in objectifying anyone. Except the people on this list, so let’s proceed:

Ben Affleck Ok, hear me out on this. I realize that he might not be as trending as Mr. Tatum at the moment, but he’s got staying power, and dare I say it, has gotten even more handsome with age. Plus, he’s proven to be a decent director, a seemingly good family man, and also, well, he’s hot. And I do not want to hear anyone’s comments about how Matt Damon’s cuter. He’s not, those are lies, let’s move on.

Ryan Gosling Duh.

Dr. Drew Yeah….I know. But here’s the thing: he’s a very handsome man! And he helps people. And he’s got that slightly nerdy-yet-jock thing going on (he’s a runner). And he’s a family man. And he’s got a sense of humor. And if I ever had a terrible addiction to heroin or ADD medication, he’d totally cure me. Also, I know too much about Dr. Drew. But for real, he’s better than Channing Tatum.

John Mayer I realize half of my readership just closed this tab in anger/horror/disgust. But you are wrong and here’s why: I know he makes weird faces when he sings, and maybe he’s not conventionally attractive like, say, Brad Pitt. But not only does he know that my body is a wonderland, he understands and embraces the fact that he’s kind of a d-bag yet can get to my soul by singing about love and loss. And if you’re CB and reading this, I know the laundry list of why you think this is a terrible choice because we have this conversation every single time I talk about John Mayer, so let’s just agree to disagree and realize that I’m right.

I'm incredibly good looking. Also,
I'm Scott Speedman.
Scott Speedman For those of you who didn’t spend most of your college years in front of your 13 inch television watching Felicity and pretending that you were her and that guy in your English class you’ve never spoken to was Ben, let me fill you in: Scott Speedman is that guy from the Underworld movies. The hot one. Also, he’s in that new show on ABC about navy guys, or army guys, or someone who does something important and says stuff like “Call the Pentagon immediately!” Yeah, that guy. He’s dreamy, he’s got a soft voice, he’s Canadian, and I think he lives in New York and so I have my eyes peeled at any moment to follow him around the block while I text all of my friends about how I’m about to get arrested for stalking Scott Speedman. Anyway, he should totally get chosen one of these days because he’s underrated and then I’d be proven right. Again.

And last but not least…..

Bradley Cooper I’d be alright with them choosing him two years in a row. I mean, the man’s got game. Also, in that scene in The Hangover when he and Zach Galifinakis are coming down the escalator in homage to Rain Man and he’s wearing that black suit? I mean….come ooooooon. Also, when he’s in the desert and calling the other guy’s fiancé to let her know that they might not get back in time for the wedding and he’s wearing that blue button-down and is all sweaty and dirty and wearing those sunglasses that make him even hotter?
I rest my case. Also, excuse me for a moment.

And there you have it. A not-complete list of men that are more deserving than Channing Tatum. Also, if you’re Channing Tatum and reading this, I’m really sorry, I hear you’re a nice, decent guy who is a great cook and, like, cures cancer in your spare time. But I just….I just….oh who are we kidding, Channing Tatum isn’t reading this and so I'm sticking to my guns on this one.

What do you guys think, did I miss anyone obvious? (other than you, CB).

Happy Wednesday! 

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Why water safety is always important and how I can make any situation into a really awkward moment.

So this weekend I traveled for work and may have scared a fellow passenger into never flying anywhere ever again. Also, I may have outed myself as a complete loser.

Fellow Passenger: Does anyone ever really listen to these instructions they give?
Me: Oh, I listen every time.
FP: You do?
Me: Absolutely. I like to know exactly where my flotation device is in case of an emergency. I mean, I know that I need to put on my oxygen mask before assisting others. That’s just common sense. But depending on what plane you fly in, sometimes your seat can be used as a flotation device, sometimes there are different levers and stuff you can pull, and sometimes they have additional life rafts as part of the plane and they tell you where those are.
FP: Wow, you know a lot about the flotation stuff.
Me: It’s key. I think about how I’ll handle an in-water crash every time I get on a plane. Which is weird, since I’m not scared of death or flying. I’m just really afraid of falling into water without a life jacket.
FP: You don’t know how to swim?
Me: I do, but I don’t trust myself in a panicking water situation, so it’s just good to have the back-up.
FP: Wow…I’ve never thought about it that much.
Me: Oh, sorry…I think maybe I’m kind of a freak about it. Mainly because it gives me something to think about while taking off and landing, because they say those are the most dangerous parts of flying and so I like to just be prepared.
FP. Stunned silence.
Me: But don’t get me wrong, I’m actually a pretty laid back person. Just not about water safety.
FP. Still stunned silence.
Me: Haha, this reminds me of that scene in “Sleepless in Seattle” where the woman next to Meg Ryan says “Don’t you just hate flying?” and Meg Ryan thinks she said “lying” and then goes into a whole thing about lying to her fiancé? The woman kind of looked stunned like you.
FP, not knowing how to escape the crazy lady.
Me: I’m sorry, I promise I’m not weird. I just sort of talk fast and a lot when people bring up water safety.

Luckily for all involved, though, there were no flotation devices needed at any time during my visit.

However, the same cannot be said for our trip to Rhode Island a few weeks ago where everyone in CB’s family, including CB, lovingly mocked me about my life jacket paranoia.

Does this look like the face of 
someone who is afraid to be judged?
You see, it started earlier in the day when we were all talking about the potential sunset sail we were going to embark upon for our first night in Newport. Sounds awesome, right?  Wrong. It sounds awesome if you’re normal. However, if you’re me, it cannot be awesome until you’re sure they have life jackets that fit you.

But because I’m not part of the family and still care whether or not I make CB look bad to his friends or not, I tried to play it off. I’m not sure I was successful, though, because as the time grew nearer, so did their concern – both for me and for themselves that they may have to hang out on a sailboat with a glass of champagne, a gorgeous sunset, wonderful company, and the spaz in the bright orange life jacket.

However, things were made much better when I walked up to board the boat and had this conversation with one of the guys leading the sail, whose name turned out to be C-Bass:

C-Bass: Welcome!
Me: Are there life jackets on board for me to wear?
C-Bass, looking at CB to see if I was kidding.
CB: No, she’s not kidding. Unfortunately.
C-Bass: Seriously?
Me: Yes, seriously! I’m getting on a boat! Why, is that a weird request?
C-Bass: In all of the years I’ve been doing it, no one has ever needed a life jacket while on this sailboat. And no one has ever asked for one.
Me: But you do have them, right?
C-Bass: Uh…yeah.

Fast forward to ten minutes later when we’re all seated on this gorgeous sailboat. And no, I wasn’t wearing a life jacket because I got shamed into being brave:

C-Bass: Hey life jacket, I think you need a glass of champagne to loosen you up.

Hence, the nickname “Life Jacket” was born. And I must say, after a glass of champagne, a gorgeous sunset, a surprise visit by a ton of dolphins accompanying our sail, and the company of some great people, I almost forgot all about the life jackets altogether!


Happy Tuesday, everyone! 

Monday, November 12, 2012

I'm not actually blogging...this is a mirage...

Hey there! I'm still traveling on business but will be back atcha' tomorrow with a story about how I may have terrified a fellow airline passenger about not knowing how to use her seat as a flotation advice in case of an emergency. I'm always a good time.

Have a great Monday, everyone, see you tomorrow!

Friday, November 9, 2012

Friday Funday...and Bruce Willis makes an appearance!

It’s Friday and we all know what that means….so let’s get to it!

Have you guys seen this little girl? Could we maybe draft her to play for the Jets? I’m just saying.


There are still people without power, heat, food, water, etc. in the wake of Hurricane Sandy. If you haven’t already, please click on these great sites for more info here and here.


Ok. So this week’s video of the week comes with a back story.

Last night I got home from work as CB was making dinner, so he told me to sit down and relax in front of the tv. I sat down and immediately, like, 18 curse words and lots of blood unfolded in front of me on screen and I was like “Uh, this isn’t relaxing.”

And then we had this conversation.

Me: What on earth is this?
CB: Die Hard!
Me, laughing: Um, you sounded just like that horrible guy I went on a date with years ago who yelled “Die Hard!” at me. (then I proceeded to reenact that tremendously awful date for him.)
CB: Well, it is a good movie.
Me: Honest to God, every guy I’ve ever told that story to has ended the conversation with the exact same thing. I don’t get it.
CB: It’s a classic.
Me: What’s the premise?
CB: How have you never seen Die Hard?
Me: I was busy watching Sleepless in Seattle. Anyway, what’s the premise?
CB: Bruce Willis is a cop visiting his ex wife, or estranged wife, or something, and they go to her work Christmas party where there are terrorists.
Me: That doesn’t even make any sense.
CB: Oh God, here we go…
Me: First of all, why would Bruce Willis be going all the way to LA from the East Coast to visit his ex wife? Are you sure they’re divorced?
CB: Maybe they’re just separated. I don’t know. And he wanted to see his kids.
Me: But I’m guessing the kids didn’t go to the Christmas party, so I would imagine he wants to get back together with her. Second of all, why are there terrorists at the Christmas party? That doesn’t seem very festive.
CB: They’re trying to rob her boss or something.
Me: What does her boss do?
CB: I don’t know, Beck, why do you ask so many questions?
Me: Because I like to be informed. Also, is that Mr. Winslow from Family Matters?
CB: Yes!! And he plays a cop in this movie, too, isn’t that crazy?
Me: Wait, why is Mr. Winslow in cahoots with Bruce Willis? Do they know each other?
CB: Bruce Willis is a cop too.
Me: But he doesn’t live in LA.
CB: Right, but I think Mr. Winslow maybe suspects he’s a cop too, which is why he trusts him.
Me: Wait, is that the guy from Love Actually?
CB: I’ve never seen Love Actually.
Me: We will fix that. Also, that’s a great Christmas movie, so we’ll totally watch it this season!
CB: Die Hard is a Christmas movie, too.
Me, rolling my eyes: Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.
CB: It takes place at Christmas.
Me: That does not make it a Christmas movie. Also, what Christmas movies do you watch where there are terrorists blowing up buildings? That’s not very Christmas-y.

Cut to: an hour later when the movie ends and the closing credits roll as “Let It Snow” plays.

CB: See? Told you it was a Christmas movie.

So……here’s this week’s video of the week! Happy Friday, everyone! 

Christmas-y, isn't it? Nothing says Christmas like gunfire and the F word!

Thursday, November 8, 2012

And then a woman with face tattoos screamed at me until I cleaned.

So I learned a very valuable lesson yesterday. Actually, I learned two. One, working from home is the best thing that was ever invented by humanity. True story. And two, too much reality tv will give you nightmares about people with face tattoos.

Let me explain.

I decided that the people of New York and New Jersey had been through enough and didn’t need me losing my mind if I had to wait in ONE MORE LINE for a billion hours just to go 4 miles. So instead, I did everyone a solid and stayed home to work in my sweatpants. Also, I am officially a genius.

I knew from a very early age that sitting
and playing in the leaves would soon
lead to snow angels on the lawn.
It's the little things in life, people.  
First of all, something you should know about me is that, the colder and more miserable it gets outside, the happier I become. Likely because I was an Inuit in a former life. Or potentially because I still am one, not sure. But it’s always been the case that as the season changes from hot and sunny to cold and dreary, my mood continues to rise until I become nearly unbearable to all of the people around me, especially CB.

Case in point: Yesterday, I was making dinner because I totally became Suzy Homemaker while also being Super Productive Work From Home Becky. And CB was thrilled. But as I was breaking bread (literally) and setting the table, I kept singing everything I was saying – usually to the tune of “Winter Wonderland” and sometimes in a sort of Julia Child-esque voice that I can only imagine was undeniably thrilling to anyway passing by in the hallway. And obviously, to CB as well.

Me, in Julia Child voice: And then we break the bread…
CB: Seriously? There is something wrong with you, woman.
Me: But it’s a Winter Wonderland outside!
CB: This is going to be a very long winter.

Whatever. I’m going to choose to enjoy the Nor’easter that blew through the coast yesterday because I’m fortunate to have heat and blankets and I’m not sleeping in a cold, dark apartment anymore. So it’s glorious.

However, what isn’t so glorious is the fact that I may never sleep again because I can’t get the face of Diabla out of my mind and dreamt that she was screaming at me to wash the floors last night. Which is, like, the nicest thing I think she’s ever screamed at anyone to do. For real.

Who’s Diabla?  Uh, she’s a prisoner at Valley State Prison with full face tattoos on the reality show “Beyond Scared Straight” that CB introduced me to the other night. And then I On Demanded it yesterday morning as I responded to work emails and apparently was scared straight into never sleeping again.

Um, you're terrifying. 
Why? Because Diabla says stuff like “I didn’t do drive-bys….I wanted to see the people that I shot die.”  

No joke, if I wasn’t already scared of breaking the law because I hate it when people are mad at me (and I have morals?), I would definitely decide against it after a 4 hour marathon-of-my-own-making of this show.

What’s really terrifying is that I wasn’t even watching the show – I had it on and was sitting on the other side of the room working while it played in the background. So can you imagine what would’ve happened if I’d actually been stared in the face by Diabla and her prison friends for hours on end? Uh, I would’ve had to change my pants after wetting myself. No lie.'re welcome, America, good luck sleeping tonight! And Happy Thursday everyone!

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

"I Voted!" and other things you should shout at people.

It’s Election Day! Did you vote yet? If not…quit reading this blog and go vote!

Did you?
I cast my ballot this morning and felt all patriotic and proud until I realized that my polling station totally doesn’t give out “I Voted” stickers! Uh, excuse me, but half of the reason I got up this morning and walked through the bitter cold to two different polling stations to cast my presidential vote was so I could be all bragg-y to others on the bus who obviously hate America and didn’t vote yet.

Ok, so I know you’re in “recovery” mode and all, Hoboken, but let’s get our priorities in order.

And then I had this embarrassing encounter:

Me: There aren’t any voting stickers?
Polling person: What are voting stickers?
Me: You know, those stickers that say “I Voted” that you get after voting?
PP, laughing: No, we weren’t even sure if our machines would be up and running in time, so we forgot about the stickers.
Me: Yeah, I guess the hurricane really ruined everything.
PP, realizing I have unbalanced priorities: Uh…yeah.

Whatever, so I voted and now I guess I’ll just have to randomly shout “I Voted!” at people as I walk down the street. Oddly enough, I probably won’t be the craziest person they encounter today. You've gotta' love NYC. 

Also, I completely empathize with this girl and will be glad when this whole thing is over. Once we’ve made our collective decision about who the president should be for the next four years, we can finally go back to things that really matter. Like "Ice Loves Cocoa."

Happy Tuesday, everyone! GO VOTE! ("I voted!") 

Monday, November 5, 2012

Your not-so-normal Monday post. Except I kiss a Rasta at one point, so there's that.

Ok. So I got my power back this morning and things are looking up! Except the three hour commute to work, but there’s really very little anyone can do about that at the moment, and so I’ll choose not to complain about it. Except by merely mentioning it, I kind of was able to complain while saying I wasn’t complaining, which actually makes me a mad genius.

Anyway, this isn’t your typical Monday post. BUT, I promise you that it’ll be back to normal with all of its glorious fluff and wit (allegedly) tomorrow!

But today I wanted to say this: the people in this region are slowly getting power back, and with that power we’re seeing the wreckage from the storm and coming to realize just how much was destroyed/damaged and how lucky we all were that it wasn’t even worse. And after much discussion with friends and co-workers over the last few days, I think it’s safe to say that the people here are experiencing what I can only describe as some sort of low level depression. People are in shock, irritable, tired, emotionally drained, and without the resources we all take for granted.

If you have the time and/or money to give, please check out some really great sites for more info here and here.

Also, I think it’s important to acknowledge some of the good that I’ve seen over the last several days. Know why? Because the news makes me want to slowly carve out my own eyeballs. It’s important, but it’s depressing, and some of this goodness is what kept me going.

So, in no particular order, here we go:

  • I slept on my best friends’ couch for four days. That in and of itself is kindness above and beyond. For those of you who haven’t had the luxury of seeing me when I wake up, it’s a sight I wouldn’t wish on anyone but those who have known me since I was 12.  And it’s not like I was in the best of moods, so I’m sure I was pure joy and sunshine to be around at all waking moments. But for these guys, it seemed effortless, which was all the more amazing because I know it required a lot of effort and sacrifice on their part. There really just is no proper way to say thank you, but I’ll sure try! 
  • People who miraculously didn’t lose power on a block in Hoboken set up shop all up and down their brownstones with tables of coffee and power cords to charge your phones, laptops, etc. They called it “Mug and Plug” – bring your own mug for coffee, warm up, charge your stuff, and get out of your cold, dark apartments for a while. This was a lifesaver and completely unexpected.
  • Some of the restaurants in Hoboken opened their doors the day after the storm and kept them open, giving away free food and water. 
  • My friend baked chocolate chip cookies and we handed them out to people in the gas lines. Sometimes people waited for hours and were then turned away because the stations ran out of gas. But seeing the look on the faces of those weary people as my friends’ three and a half year old little girl with pink angel wings said “Excuse me, would you like a cookie while you wait?” was priceless.
  • I went to Hoboken City Hall to sign up to volunteer a few days ago and was turned away because there were already too many volunteers. What? Does that even happen? I’ll keep that in mind next time people trash-talk New Yorkers (and New Jerseyans….New Jerseyites? Oh jeez, people from New Jersey). 
I totally scored with the Rasta.
I think his wicked skateboarding
skillz just got to me. 
  • I headed out to see CB and his family/friends last week and these people are a good time, no joke. So since all of us were affected by the storm in one way or another, most without or just getting power back, we hung out in sweats and decided it’d be a really good idea to skateboard up and down the hallway. I know, right? Genius. However, it was made even better when CB decided to don what would’ve been his Halloween costume, which was a Rasta. Obviously. It was awesome and I laughed so hard that I cried as the Rasta skateboarded back and forth for the cameras.  These people know how to turn a disaster into a hilarious disaster and I’m fortunate to count each of them as my friends.
  • I got hundreds of texts, phone calls, emails, Facebook posts, blog messages, and tweets from people checking in, offering their help, and just generally reminding me that I’m one of the luckiest people there is! It was humbling and a daily and sometimes hourly reminder that you people rock.

Alright guys, I’ll be back tomorrow and the rest of the week with more “normal” posts, so stay tuned! And thanks for all of your support as we get up and moving again!

Happy Monday! 

Friday, November 2, 2012

Friday Funday Wrapup!

So it's Friday which means only one thing - the Friday Funday Wrapup! Let's get to it.


As we all know by now, it's been a long week for East Coast folks (and those around the country who love them) because of Hurricane Sandy. Like I've said before, this feels like a bit of an ordeal for me and I am staying with people I love who have opened their door for as long as I need it. I realize that I'm one of the extremely lucky ones. 

For those who aren't so fortunate, there are some great sites you can check out if you're interested in helping out. 

This is a great site that gives some options for various ways to give of time and/or money. 

This is for the NJ Food Bank and this is for the NY Food Bank. 

And this kid is awesome and could probably teach me a thing or two. . 


Ok, it looks like this is going to be an East Coast-centric wrapup - sorry guys! So while there is some controversy over the decision to go ahead with the marathon this Sunday, I have a few friends running it and I want to send them all of the good marathon/running vibes I can. I've run some marathons myself and know how this day is a culmination of hours and days and months of training and sacrifice and pain. 

Good luck runners and friends!!


And now....the Video of the Week. 

In anticipation of the Presidential Election on Tuesday, I thought this was appropriate. Don't forget to exercise your right to vote! 

Happy Friday, everyone, see you next week!

Thursday, November 1, 2012

And then I almost died in a Tori Spelling made for tv movie.

So I totally learned some important lessons about myself over these last few days when Sandy decided to be a big ole' b-word on the East Coast. Not the least of which was "put your pants on and don't eat so much candy corn."

Right? Please, like I'm the only one. 

Ok. So I did all of the pre-hurricane prep that they tell you about: fill your tub with water, have lots of extra jugs of water on hand, get non-perishable food to last 3-5 days, and charge your phones. I'm sure there are one or two more things on the checklist, but whatever, that's the gist. And so I did all of that and was feeling very good about my adult-like preparation. Meanwhile, almost every single friend I have, and a few acquaintances, checked in to make sure I'd, you know, heard that there was a storm coming. 

Uh, guys, I've totally got this. 

Prepared for a hurricane since 1981. 
Fast forward to: 11 minutes after my power went out and I was like "Yeah, I'm done with this. Let's cut the crap and bring the power back because I'm bored." Which then lead to me panic-eating the leftover candy corn in my purse from the weekend. Guys, don't judge me, it was stressful! But as I eased into the notion that I may be without power for a while - which was a good notion to come to grips with because, uh, looks like it'll be about another week before we get it back - I decided to totally go all Little House on the Prairie on this storm and light some candles, cozy up to my cat, and re-read some of my favorite books. 

Everything was going swimmingly, and I was ignoring the fact that the tree outside was going to come crashing through my bay window, and focused on the positive: I had enough food, water, and battery power on my two phones to make it for quite a while. Also, I had a Tylenol PM that I decided would get me through at least 6-7 hours, so popped that right down, blew out the candles, and tried to relax. Something, by the way, I don't always excel at.

However, just as I began dozing off to the sounds of over-served jerk faces yelling "Bring it Sandy" in the middle of the street at midnight, I heard a knock on my door. 

Enter: Me being the first person killed in a B-rate horror movie from the 70s. 

I walked over to the door, pants in hand, and had this really lovely encounter:

Me: Who is it?
Murderer: It's PSE&G
Me, potentially peeing my pants:'re from PSE&G?
Murderer: Yes, can you open the door? 

And then I slowly backed away from the door as the blood drained from my body and I realized that I was about to be hurricane-slayed. So, being the prepared adult that I am, I ran into my bedroom, grabbed the baseball bat that CB bought me for safety years ago, the mace my dad bought me (the legal kind?? It's pink, whatever, it's awesome), and sat on my bed as silent tears began going down my face. Also, Oliver was zero help as he realized that this might not end well and so he sought shelter under the bed. Thanks a lot, guy. 

However, since I'm not typing this from my ghostly grave, you obviously know that I came out the winner in this movie. And, sorry to not give you some sort of great ending to that climactic knock on the door, but I think the guy was too drunk or bored or bad at killing to try too hard to get into my house. Also, maybe he actually was from PSE&G, but my money's on the fact that that's total b.s. and I almost became a Sally casualty. 

But because the universe wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to sleep at all, and instead just be super groggy and confused on Tylenol PM all night, soon after the killer knock, a random alarm in my apartment started going off and it took me far too long to figure out what and where it was. Also, as I searched for the blaring alarm in my 500 square foot, pitch black apartment, I created a scenario in my mind about the PSE&G killer somehow getting into my house from the fire escape, setting off an alarm to lure me into the blackness of my kitchen, and then killing me while wearing a Freddie mask or something. It wasn't pretty. 

But again, totally going to let you down again from a climactic alarm, it ended up just being a random cable alarm (what? Yeah, I didn't know that existed either) and I held down the button, stood there until I stopped shaking, and then went back to my bed and put on some pants. Dude, it was only a matter of time, I figured, before I'd have to flee my building for some terrifying yet benign reason and then I'd be all over the news as the pants-less crazy person who didn't make any sense because she was drugged and covered in cat hair.

So, that was the first 5 hours of my Sandy experience, and let me tell you, it didn't get prettier from there. All it takes is no blow dryer and a diet of condensed soup that I failed to add water to for two days, and you have yourself a picture of a fully functioning 34 year old with Roseanne Roseannadanna hair and scurvy.

Also, please send candy corn. I'm all out. 

Happy Thursday!