Good morning! How is everyone this fine Friday? It is snowing in NYC, what?! I generally try to be a pretty positive person, and an alliterative one at that, but I am 100% Negative Nancy about the month of March. I think it is a real tease. Spring starts in March and Daylight Savings and you really get to thinking: this is it. Winter is behind us. February is over and there’s nothing ahead but blue skies and tulips and young mens’ fancies lightly turning to thoughts of love.
But NO. March gives and takes it right back – a sunny day followed by six days of cold, damp, freezing rain. Freak snowstorms. 31 long days with no federal holidays for 3 day weekends. One of my friends just described the month as “a fickle bitch.” I think she’s got it. March is the gol-dang worst and I stand by that.
Ok, rant over (for now. MARCH! You fickle bitch.), let’s take a look back at the days of yore, at what was keeping it awkward this week:
So I wanted to paint my toenails the other night – I loathe pedicures. They terrify me. I hate feet and people touching my feet. I’m shuddering just thinking about it – but before I could paint them I had to remove the layers of gross, peeling, old polish still clinging to my nails since the last time I did them like 6 months ago. It’s winter! Why bother? I had just painted my fingernails and didn’t want to eff that up by using nailpolish remover on my toes, so I got the brilllliant idea to wear rubber gloves. But we only had one gigantic, left-handed kitchen glove, but I popped that bad boy on feeling like I’d just figured out the secrets to the feminine universe and promptly knocked over the bottle of nailpolish remover all over the sink. I then spent close to 15 minutes trying to get the polish off my toenails, not because they were THAT gross, but because it turns out that even the simplest of tasks are borderline impossible when attempting with your non-dominant hand in an oversized rubber glove.
OBVIOUSLY I still managed to screw up my fingernails .3 seconds later, making this entire fiasco completely pointless.
My toes are cute, though! TOO BAD IT’S SNOWING AND NO ONE CAN SEE THEM.
Rant still not over.
This Chest of Drawers:
This is my bedside table and also where I store my socks and underbusiness. It is part of a set of bedroom furniture from the Ikea Children’s line circa 1989. This dresser can drink and serve in the armed forces. My sister and I had them in our bedroom when we were little and still use them today. Pro tip: childrens’ furniture is the perfect size for tiny urban apartments!
Right, so, if you look closely at that dresser you’ll notice that the bottom two drawers are missing handles (you’ll also notice a hint of nude pantyhose sticking out one of the other drawers. Oh those hose. Always on the loose!). When I brought this dresser to NYC 6 years ago it had these really goofy red plastic handles, a side effect of using furniture for 3 year olds, so I went to Ikea and got new classy metal pulls. For a reason that now evades me, I think I might have run out of screws, I never ended up putting handles on those bottom two drawers. Ever. So every time I want to get a pair of socks or a pair of underpants, which is every single day, sometimes more than once, I have to open the second drawer by its handle juuust enough that I can stick my hand in underneath and grab the front panel and pull it open that way, and then close the top drawer and then get a pair of socks and then shut that drawer about halfway so I can stick my hand into the bottom drawer, grab the front panel, pull it open, get a pair of underwear, close all the drawers, realize I forgot my bra…and start all over again.
I have been doing this for over half a decade now and can not get it together enough to just put on some goddamn handles. A regular Bob Vila over here.
Similarly, this is the artistic “gallery wall” hanging just as you enter my bedroom:
As you can see there is a set of keys hanging on a bare nail. A mirror. A haphazardly placed, constantly empty glass flower holder vial thing, a framed piece of art that a friend gave me and a random ornament that was the favor from a friend’s wedding in 2008.
I am a home decor genius! If you would like to copy this style, and why wouldn’t you, simple take all random items you don’t know what to do with, “temporarily” hang them on a bare wall in no discernible pattern and then just never move them. Initially you might be inspired to do something else with them, but eventually they will become as much a part of the room as the floor or the ceiling and you can just lay on your bed and eat cheez-its and pin things to your “Design Ideas!” pinterest board because you’ll totally get it together one of these days!
Butttt you probably won’t.
This Pile of Clothes:
Tonight I am going to a potluck with Brian’s colleagues. I’ve never met them before and I want to make a good impression! Which for me, does not just mean showing up, being polite and getting along with everyone, it means that on Monday morning, an email chain will circulate throughout the entire school, starting with the math teachers, getting to the rest of the teachers, until it trickles down to the students and the cafeteria cooks and the night watchman, talking about how incredibly beautiful and self possessed and hilarious and perfect in every imaginable way Mr. Scott’s girlfriend is.
I had a whole outfit picked out but then it was snowing (RANT NEVER ENDS!) so I had to dress warmer and there were shoes to consider and I had no idea what the other guests would be wearing, for some reason Brian was not into the idea of polling all of the lady teachers to get a sense of their wardrobe choices, and then my black belt broke and like 80% of my clothes have holes in them and what if the hosts run a shoe-off household and I show up in dumb socks and it was just a really stressful day. I ended up spending close to an hour – ONE HOUR – trying on different outfits before settling on something somewhat acceptable plus I packed a bag with some backup options.
To spend one night at my boyfriend’s house, which is down the street, and have a dinner with a bunch of math nerds (no offense math nerds) I brought an enormous suitcase with four extra shirts, two pairs of pants and five different pairs of shoes.
If anything, the high school will circulate an email chain that they need to keep an eye on Mr. Scott because his girlfriend is 100% unhinged.
Speaking of the high school…
Last Saturday, Brian and I got up early, went to Target and then hit up the school musical. I have the social life of a soccer mom…but without the kids or the van or the sweater vests.
Aaaand I love it.
In case you’re curious, the play was Into The Woods, the kids were cute but, like with most things in life, the whole thing would have been a lot better if Zac Efron had been involved.
And that was my week! I just re-read this and it was like 2% funny and 58% crabby and 40% boring, sorry! I need an attitude adjustment and fast. But check out that mental math! I will fit in tonight!
Hoping everyone has a lovely weekend and if you feel the need to just complain and grouch about life, I’m with you, so do feel free to unburden yourself in the comments. #CrabbyFriday!