Friday Wrapup!

We got the keys to our new apartment, we've packed our bags for our Michigan trip, and the Mets won last night. Either it's the dawn of the apocalypse or....it's Friday! Let's get to it.

***
Please tell me you guys saw the season premiere of "Catfish." Please please please.

But ok, for the record, I've never claimed to have good taste in television. I think that's a given. But I was just telling a friend of mine yesterday that people always look at CB sympathetically when I start to talk about this stuff, and to that I have just one thing to say: even CB was like "Wait, what? We have to see how this ends."

I rest my case.

Also, thank GOD I'm not single, because I'd for real get Catfished and then my friends would have to have an intervention with me to explain that I wasn't actually talking to Ryan Gosling and, instead, it was a 67 year old housewife from Montana. It'd be heartbreaking and sad and would embarrass all of my friends and family on national television while Nev and Max filmed it.

Perhaps I need a life.

***
This is awesome. And true. IT'S NOT ABOUT THE NAIL!

***

I want to marry this beer. 

***

The book of the week this week I chose because (a) I keep reminding myself I have to read it (like about 32 other books on my list) and (b) the picture reminded me of summer. 

Hey, I'm just being honest. 

The bonus is that it sounds like a great read! So check it out, along with our other selections through the years by clicking here.

***

And now, the Video of the Week. 

So for Father's Day I made my dad a CD. I was all excited and picked out songs I thought he'd like, or at least hadn't heard before, perhaps opening him up to some new sounds and bands. 

And then this conversation happened:

Dad: "Dear, I appreciate the cd but....I'm going to have to agree with CB. The music is kind of depressing."
Me: "What?! No way!"
Dad: "The National song? As I listened to it I worried if you were ok."
Me: "What? No! I'm very happy! I thought I chose happy music."
Dad: "Ok......"

But whatever, it'll just join the rankings of other classic gifts I've given my dad over the years, not the least of which was a Father's Day mug I made in middle school that leaked and had a terrifying monster face on it. My bad. 

So, just for you dad, here's YOUR video of the week. Enjoy! 

BLOGGING NOTE: I'll be on vacation next week, so I'll be posting some archives while I'm away. But stay tuned when I'm back on Monday, July 8th, where I'll have a LOT of vacation AND moving stories! Oh boy! 

Adventures in Packing

Turning off the lights and getting into bed:

CB: “Watch out for the drill.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
CB: “The drill. There’s a drill on the floor.”
Me: “Why is there a drill on the floor? Can you just put it on the counter?”
CB: “It’s next to the hammer. And no, I’m already in bed.”
Me: “Ok, but what if I step on them in the middle of the night?”
CB: “That’s why I was telling you to watch out!”
Me: “But I won’t remember that at 3am when I get up to go to the bathroom.”
CB: “Then it’s gonna’ hurt.”
Me: “I love you too.”
CB: “That is love. I warned you they were there. If I didn’t, then that isn’t love.”

***

As CB was cleaning out his closet last night, he came across a Simpsons trivia game and went to throw it in the trash.

Me: “Wait, what are you doing?”
CB: “Throwing it away.”
Me: “Why?”
CB: “Because I’ve probably had this game for 15 years or more and I’ve never played it.”
Me: “Keep it!”
CB, staring at me.
Me: “You never know! We might play it.”
CB: “We’re going to play a Simpsons trivia game?”
Me: “Sure, why not?”

He then placed the game off to the side and kept cleaning.

Five minutes later he took the game and threw it away.

Me: “Wait, what are you doing?”
CB: “Throwing it away.”
Me: “No! I feel bad for the game.”
CB, shaking his head.

Pause.

Me: “I really am a hoarder, aren’t I?”
CB: “Yep.”

***

Showing CB items from my middle school diary.

CB: “Is that a paw print?”
Me: “Yep.”
CB: “You drew paw prints in your diary?”
Me: “Yeah…I did it because my diary had a cat on it, and I named the cat Augustus, and so once in a while I’d draw a paw print in solidarity.”
CB: “Seriously, you really shouldn’t tell me these things before we move in together.”
Me: “I feel like it’s better that you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into ahead of time.”
CB: “I disagree. Some things should be left in the dark.”

Happy Wednesday, everyone – we’re almost packed! 

My cat diary: past or present?

After weeks of slowly going from room to room and throwing things away, giving things away, and packing things away, I think I’m done packing my apartment. And if I’m not, it’s just staying there. Good luck, next tenants.

However, one of the wonderfully surprising side-effects of packing up 12 years of my life into about 15 boxes was that I came across pictures and letters and cards and memories that I’d either forgotten about accidentally or on purpose. There is a lot of life packed into that 500 sq foot, lopsided Brownstone, and yesterday I spent a great deal of time reminiscing.

And then I was stopped dead in my tracks when I happened upon my diary from 1990, when I was 12 years old. Shockingly to no one, it had a picture of a cat on the cover, and so I had this exchange with CB.

Anyway, as I opened up the thick binding and saw pages and pages of pre-teen emotions spelled out in bubble letters, I couldn’t help but laugh. So, I took a few snapshots to share with you. Please note that I have not, apparently, changed since I was 12, which is both comforting and completely terrifying. 

Enjoy.

First of all, did I think I was European? Why is the date backwards?
Secondly, I'm pretty sure I didn't have to beg people in pink pen not to read my cat diary.
They could likely tell just by looking at it that there was nothing there to see. 

I love that I added artwork via the "You're Special" sticker.
Also, I'm glad I included the cats in there so their feelings wouldn't be hurt. 

My love for Whitney Houston has been there for more than 20 years.
Also, I think it's important that I made note of my love for Leonardo DiCaprio and crossed OUT those
who I no longer loved. Helped me keep track better. 

Happy Monday, everyone! 

*I have some crazy deadlines at work this week, so please forgive me if these are shorter posts than normal. 

Friday Wrapup!

Happy First Day of Summer, everyone! I think it's only appropriate that it's occurring on a Friday, so let's get right to it! 

***

Steve Jobs has failed me.

You see, one of the perks of working in downtown Manhattan is that, for a brief moment each day, I get to rub shoulders with people who pay more for their three bedroom loft per month than I’ve made in my entire adult life. Usually because they’ve been on a successful tv show or are in movies, though sometimes it’s because they appeared on reality television, were incredibly horrible to other reality tv personalities, and then bought a five million dollar loft to remind them that cruelty pays off in the end.

Either way, though, I get a little flutter in my stomach when I see some of these people. In the course of my daily commute I’ve seen Ron Howard, Casey Affleck, Liv Tyler, and Elvis Costello. However, I’ve never taken any pictures because (a) they’re usually walking by me or getting into a cab or (b) I didn’t want to scare them.

However yesterday, when I happened upon Amy Poehler just standing against a building texting - obviously waiting for this moment to arrive - I had to take action. So, in the cool, calm, and collected manner to which I’ve never grown accustomed, I stood on the corner, kind of weirdly stared at her to make sure it was actually her, looked around at all of the people just walking by NOT noticing Amy Poehler and being weird about it, and decided I needed to capture this moment on film.

So I pulled out my iPhone and took a stealthy sideways Instagram shot of her by holding the camera up non-discreetly, clicking the button, and promptly moving along on my merry way.

I must admit that I was quite proud of myself. I did it! I finally got a picture of a celebrity! I’m totally blogging about this!

And then it happened.

The picture appeared……the phone froze….a little circle appeared on the screen and started going round and round, and I yelled out “Noooooooooooooooo!” on a public sidewalk to solidify my weirdness to passersby.

And when the phone came back on? No Poehler. No proof. No joy left in the world.

Thanks a lot, Steve Jobs.

***

Um, I cannot wait.

***

So as you all know, the day is growing closer for our big move and I’m in full packing mode. Because of this, my cat, Oliver, has gotten in on the action and is quite excited for co-habitation with CB.

He was very excited to lay on the boxes and help,
but when I texted his grandma this picture and she likened him
to a barrel, his feelings were hurt and he decided to hide.

I spy Oliver!

***

While I’m busy packing, the rest of my family is together in Michigan enjoying fun in the summer sun. So obviously, none of us has had time to blog about what we’re reading, though I’m getting close with the “Detroit” book I mentioned last week.

In the meantime, though, I did take this photo of a book I’ve blogged about here, so that’s something.

Don't worry, CB, I packed it!

***

And now, the video of the week. I’ve been waiting for this song to come out on iTunes and they refuse to give into my demands. However, never one to be stopped by reality, I just decided last night that, instead, I’d just play this song over and over on YouTube while packing and, as you saw above, that totally worked out for me! Also, singing “I’m a Grown Woman” while packing my Tori Spelling book totally makes me feel complete.

So…enjoy! Happy Friday, everyone, go enjoy your weekend!

And then I became a doctor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stick to a Sleep Schedule

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

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

Create a bedtime ritual

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

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

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

It's a welcoming site.

Get comfortable

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

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

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

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

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then it happened.

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

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

This wasn’t Criminal Justice 101.   

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

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

I really did miss my calling as a sleuth.  

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

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

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

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

Happy Monday, everyone! 

Friday Wrapup!

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

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

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

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

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

She is now seven.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

Happy weekend, everyone! See you Monday!

Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Deux

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

***

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

I’m a good time all around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jazz hands! Also, open bar.

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

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

Congratulations, Mikie and Jess! 

Friendapalooza The Wedding: Part Une

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

***

Circa 2000.

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

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

We’re a classy bunch.

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

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

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

Which, to be fair, can be quite terrifying.

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

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

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

Obviously.

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

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

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

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

Case in point: Three Hour Brunch.

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

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

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

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

In no particular order….

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

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

•  We left this comment card.

It seriously was. No joke. 

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

It did not work.

• We may not be mathematicians.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A post to come...

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

Friday Wrapup!

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

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

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Drum roll please…..we got an apartment! 

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

***

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

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

Click here and enjoy!

***

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

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

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

Enjoy! 

Happy wedding, Mike and Jess!

Happy Friday, everyone!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Normal conclusion.

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

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

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

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

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

You know, like the gazelles.

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

 Pause.

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

SERIOUSLY?! Who’s on first?

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

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

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

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

And then I saw it.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!