Another Awkward Week [3.14.14]

Happy Pi Day, nerds! We at the Scottenadel household celebrated in style:

Of course we have a Pi Day mug. Marrying a math teacher has its perks!

(PS look at that face! Such a studmuffin, I can’t even handle it.) (PSS: sorry! Can’t help myself!)

How was everyone’s week? Mine was fine! I feel like it was fast? I can barely remember what happened! A blur of wildly vacillating temperatures and Buzzfeed Quizzes. I just took this one: Which Queen of Comedy Are You and got Julia Louis Dreyfus! I feel pretty OK about that.

Who are you?!

Let’s move it right on along, Comedy Queens, and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Bathroom:

The ladies’ room in our office is a complete hellscape – the toilets never seem to be flushed and there’s always mysterious water all over the ground and the lighting in the mirror area makes everyone look like extras from The Walking Dead. The worst.

Also, the locks on the stall doors never seem quite secure, like, for example, this week when I was doing my thang and the stall door next to me slammed a little bit, the momentum of which slipped my door right out of the locked position and started swinging it open.

NIGHTMARE OF NIGHTMARES.

I managed to stop it & slam it back shut before anyone saw anything too graphic but YIKES. There is no safe space in this world! I would consider  taking a pay cut (jk never) if it meant budget to fix this bathroom, it is truly a palace of horrors. 

This Snack:

We had a pizza lunch at work the other day and a noon I was staaaarving, so I confirmed with my assistant what time we were eating. If it was 1 PM, I’d eat my healthy apple. If it was 12:30, I’d hold out.

12:30 it was! I’d hold out.

Until I went into my office & spotted the bag of Doritos leftover from our Valentines’ Day Chip & Dip Extravanga hidden in a corner where I’d stashed them February 15 to avoid shoving them all in my face in a fit of madness. But oh no: the fit of madness had snuck in anyway! I took one handful, re-hid the bag and got to work.

Then snuck back for one more handful! And then just…one…more…and then I shut my office door and hid at my desk hoovering Doritos until Margaret knocked and walked in to announce the pizza had arrived and caught me red-handed.

Err…orange handed. Literally.

And then later that night, this happened…

This Photo:

That horrible moment when you turn on your camera and realize it’s still switched to selfie mode and you see what your real face look like in repose.

ALL the yikes in the world can’t even begin to describe this.

This Laundry:

Remember how proud I was last week of my Mental Health Day on Monday (Otherwise known as “take-a-break-before-you-shiv-somebody” day per Ross or “lay in bed with your fiance like the grandparents from Willie Wonka” according to my friend Danny) and how I did all that laundry? WELL said laundry hung to dry in our living room for a cool 6 days later until someone (me) finally put it away.

I guess I just need to take another mental health day … one to do the laundry…and then one to fold it. One to put it away. One to iron the fancy stuff. One to rest after all that work. Oh look, I’m retired! Goodbye, corporate world, you’ve been real.

This Sink:

Last week I went to not one but two different Asian restaurants and both of them had really fancy sinks. I’m not trying to racially generalize here, I’m just sayin’ that was some rad sinnkage.

The first place was a terrible and I mean TERRIBLE estalishment in Chinatown that served undercooked pork dumplings and probably poisoned us all. Their sink was bright blue and shiny, it looked like it was made with ferrari material, and you turned on the water using a joystick. A literal joystick, like you’d use for videogames. It was awesome.

The second place was a delish Sushi spot in Park Slope that I love to visit except whenever I get sushi I eat wahaaaay too much because it seems like it won’t fill you up and then wham it totally does and  then Brian’s like “hey it’s Friday, let’s get busy” and I have to be like “no to the way, Jose.” There is nothing less of an aphrodisiac than a stomach full of sushi. Is it just me? Is this 15,000% too much information? ALWAYS.

Anyway, their sink is the art deco delight pictured above. It had a regular handle that you flipped up to turn the water on and then moved side to side to change the temperature. How you turn it off is a total mystery to me. I stood in the bathroom for several minutes turning the knob left, right, up down, front to back side to side and the water just kept on running, so I left it run, went back to the table, got my phone, took this photo, moved it around some more and finally, miracle of miracles, the water stopped.

It wasn’t just me, I’m happy to report. My friend went in after me and she TOO had issues working the sink so we’re blaming it allll on the mechanics of the sink. We’re perfect.

Semi related, I’m now majorly jonesing for some eel avocado. Is 9:15 AM too soon? What do Japanese people eat for breakfast?

Life is full of questions!

Aaaand I’m done before I start sharing more weird information about my intimate life and / or inappropriate breakfast cravings. What’s new with you chickies? Any big weekend plans? ST PATRICK’S DAY! Get that green beer y’all.

Luck o’ the Awkward,

Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [3.7.14]

Guten Morgen, Jorgens! That might be German…might be gibberish.

How was everyone’s week? Mine was fast and productive, just the way I like it, wink. Sorry, gross.  I actually played hooky on Monday…except it was my boss’s idea (apparently my fragile emotional state is more obvious that I’d like to admit?!) (don’t worry, I’m finally seeking profesh help…more on that later) (parenthesis!) so it was less hooky and more approved personal day but, tomato tomahto. It was amazing. I slept in, until 8:30, which is late for me, did 4 loads of laundry, including our kitchen floor mat which, do you guys wash your kitchen mats?? How often? I think this was the first time since we moved in last August yiiiiikes. I did a little writing, which I promise you’ll see soon, cooked a healthy meal, cleaned out my closet, caught up on Scandal, it was divine.

I then came back to work on Tuesday and have been Getting. Shit. Done. Boom!

So! If you can get away with it, professionally sanctioned or no, I’d highly recommend sneaking in a mental health slash get your life together day. I feel so much more on top of everything, calmer, clearer-headed. It’s a miracle!

Never fear, though, productive certainly does not mean smooth, so why don’t we go to the tapes & take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Dinner:

Did y’all know that yesterday was the 50th Anniversary of the Invention of the Buffalo Wing? Move over Wright Brothers, Steve Jobs, etcetera…Teressa Bellissamo is truly America’s greatest inventor.

As you know, I love buffalo wings almost as much as I love my own family, but I didn’t know about this anniversary until late yesterday afternoon, when my friend Kathleen emailed me a link and suggested we should celebrate. I told her I wouldn’t be able to last night…

Why? She asked?

I had to go home and put away my laundry…and I had turkey defrosting that I really should cook so…

29 going on 64.

Shut it down.

Kathleen helpfully stepped in with a You’re in your 20’s, Childless, in one of the Greatest Cities in America, Live a Little Intervention, and we celebrated like kings! Greasy, meat-eating kings.

It’s important to surround yourself with good friends who will remind you how lame you are.

These Boots:

Reason #19086 this godforsaken winter needs to come to an end: I have actual holes in the bottom of my shoes. I look like I just stepped out of, like, Angela’s Ashes. I’m too cheap/lazy/sick of winter apparel to get a new pair so…hurry on up, spring, there’s snow seeping into my socks!

This Still Life, With Garbage:

Last night I spilled some water in my purse, as one does, and when I dumped out the contents to dry them off, realized I had a lot of, shall we say, useless trash floating around in there.

I am always fascinated by these clearly staged bits that fashion mags do with celebrities where they ask them what’s inside their handbag and the answer is always like, La Mer Handcream (is that even a thing?) and some antique gilded compact mirror that their great-grandmother got from Marie Antoniette herself and 3-5 shades of Nars Lipstick and exactly zero old bandaids or anything a (hopefully?!) normal person might carry around and even though I know it’s all fakey-fake, I can’t help feeling a little blue about my own nice possessions, or lack thereof. No Mas!

Wihtout further ado, here’s what I, Liz Ho, Normal Person, carry around in MY handbag:

Basically L-R, from the top:

Row 1: Pack of tissues printed to look like a snowman, PILE of used tissues, cortisone cream for bug bites, a pile of work papers and on top of them a plastic mermaid and a plastic cactus that were put in my margarita a happy hour many weeks ago and I thought were cute so I took them home, wallet

Row 2: post-it note from one of my many trips to the T-Mobile store where I apparently practiced writing my current name and possible married name in cursive (busted!), two notebooks, one of which started as an old food journal during my cleansing days so in between to-do lists are lists of what I ate and when and then also the exit portion of the digestive process; a salt grinder from Trader Joe’s, ONE nude knee high stocking

Row 3: Shout Wipes, hair clips, a packet of bandaids + a few floaters, my blackberry which has not worked in weeks and I keep meaning to get fixed but I love the feeling of freedom that comes from not being able to use it, a travel container of earplugs, my kindle (currently reading a new Sarah Waters novel, coming in September!), on top of the Kindle we have a paring knife which Brian saw and asked me why I was carrying around a shiv,  and a number of old reciepts, several of which are from the wine store

Row 4: An assortment of feminine hygiene products, a promotional screen cleaner that my mom got at a conference and put in my stocking, used Amtrak ticket, stub from a reimbursement check from work, some kind of letter from the health insurance company

Row 5: expired Starbucks gift card, smashed piece of caramel, two empty birth control packets + one currently in rotation, one zillion pens, old nail file that is too worn down to file

Annnnnd THERE YA HAVE IT! What’s in YOUR purse? I’m seriously dying to know. The Hairpin did a great series of this a few years ago…let’s start another!

This Gift:

Ok…I need to start this with some text & lead up to the good stuff.

I’ve mentioned our landlady here, she of the amazing decor, and I fear I’ve come off snarkier than I mean to be. I genuinely treasure her, she’s been a fantastic landlord and I appreciate living in the most festive house on the block. We’re going to have to move this year, a fact which I will discuss with you later, as I am currently repressing it, so I think we’re all getting a little sentimental.

Por ejemplo, Connie is super excited that we’re getting married, which is adorable, and this past weekend, I opened our apartment door to find a gift bag hanging on the handle.

What could it be?! ‘Twas a gift from Connie.

I first pulled out a beautiful card in a silver envelope , reading “Elizabeth & Brian, I’m going to miss you guys…as you see, I’m making a prediction…”

A prediction?!

From the bag, I pull two frames, wrapped in tissue. The first, a gorgeous, sparkly silver frame, the kind in which you might put your formal wedding photos. I love it!

The second, well, see for yourself:

Guessing the prediction is baby related? No pressure. I thought the baby questions would wait until at least a day or so after the wedding.

I told a friend about this last night & she said now I’ll probably think of Connie every time we’re getting busy. Hadn’t taken it that far, pal, but now I sure will. Hopefully those multiple packets of BC I’ve been carrying around do their job and this predic doesn’t come true for many, many a year.

I do tease, but seriously how sweet is this? Commence WHY MUST WE MOVE?!?! panic in 4-3-2-1…AAAH!

And that, good sirs, was my week! What are you all up to this weekend? Conceiving some children, maybe? Good luck with that! I’m going to a work event tonight (voluntarily! Toldja I was on the up & up!), hopefully running outside, as the temps may finally rise above 31 farenheit, and Briguy and I may possibly do a little wedding gift registering so fire up those credit cards, America, mama needs a new paring knife, she’s been using hers as a shiv!

Hoping you have a delightful weekend, whatever it may entail and don’t forget to Spring Forward!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [2.28.14]

Hello, buttercups! How was everyone’s week? I’m feeling moderately scattered but really, really looking forward to putting February behind us. March is already promising to ROAR in like a lion with a snowstorm this weekend but, like I’ve said many a time before, complaining about the weather is bo-ring soooo I’ll just do that silently and start working on a little voodoo dance to bring on the sunshine and warm weather.

I’ll video-tape it, I promise!

What else is new? Oscars are on Sunday!! I just realized that I saw literally two new movies in 2013, Her, which is actually awesome and a critically acclaimed gem and should win some awards and I feel very proud of myself for having seen it because generally speaking, I only like crap movies, and also The Hunger Games: Catching Fire which was, of course, a masterpiece and is being ROBBED by the academy! Robbed, I say.

My goal for 2014 is to see more smart person movies. So far I have one theater film under my belt and it is Disney’s Frozen so…off to a GREAT start, Liz.

It’s 9:30 AM and I can’t stop eating stale candy hearts.

I’m rambling. Let’s put a silencio on this nonsense and take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Subway Pole:

What I meant to grab a hold of to steady myself mid-commute.

What I actually grabbed: the handle of an umbrella a fellow commuter had tucked into the side pocket of his backpack.

He was NOT amused.

Photo obviously stolen from the internet, I was far too frazzled in the moment to snap an original masterpiece.

This Couch:

In my sister’s living room in South Philly.

Magnadoodle lives in the CUTEST row home in the Iladeph with a pal of hers and I stayed there on Friday night en-route to Etown for some family stuff. She was getting ready to set the couch for me to sleep on, but I was too chicken to sleep in the living room all by myself, so I made her let me sleep in her bed upstairs.

The couch was downstairs! All alone! RIGHT by the door and a giant picture window and just one room away from the kitchen which has another door which means there were at least three easy ways for murders to climb in and get me.

NO SIR I would not sleep there.

When I first moved to New York, people would ask me if I was scared to live in a such a big and dangerous city and the answer is always no way. Cities don’t scare me. I feel like there are so many people, the odds of me getting singled out by a serial killer is probably way less.  I know that Law and Order should prove this theory incorrect BUT conversely, I’ve seen every single episode of Criminal Minds AND read In Cold Blood so I’m pretty confident in my assertion that the most psycho of killers love open space. The country? HORRIFYING. The bigger the house and the more space surrounding, I think the more opportunities for murderers to sneak up unnoticed and take me back to their Saw dungeon. Maggie’s house isn’t even remotely in the middle of nowhere, it’s a freaking row home, literally surrounded on all sides by other homes, most of them filled with older Italian grannies who love nothing more than spying out their front windows and would most certainly catch the predator before he entered the home and murdered me, but there was still no way JOSE I was sleeping on that couch.

I am a real treat to have around guys. A real treat!

This List:

Draft One of my extremely long Wedding To Do List. I wrote this out on the train from Pennsylvania last weekend with the help of my sister and then went home and typed it up.

(Allow me to quickly brag here that I am really, really good at making lists. Checking them off is more of a gamble but OH I can craft a finely detailed list like nobody’s business. I take weird pride in this skill so just wanted to toot my own horn a little bit. Keep that ego up, ya know?!)

Sometimes when I’m making lists or writing notes or just going about my day-to-day life, I’ll do little jokes with myself that make me laugh and are probably stupid but I crack myself up. This particular list was broken down into categories, the first of which was attire. Item one on the list was Liz’s Attire, so I wrote what I still need:

Shoes, Accessories and lingerie.

Lingerie I wrote just to be fancy, as my friend and I are currently working on patenting (DON’T STEAL IT!!!) a line of bedazzled bridal spanx so that future brides can feel festive and fancy while still keeping it tight.

Next on the list was Brian’s attire, so I wrote: Shoes, Suit, Shirt, Tie …and then just to make myself laugh, I added “sexy male underwear.”

And then sent the list to my mom.

Luckily we have a good relationship and she knows I’m a super weirdo and not easily embarrassed – the very first thing she mentioned when we next spoke on the phone was the Sexy Male Underwear.  Now it’s all I can think about when I think about wedding planning and I just crack up.

Poor Brian. This is mostly just embarrassing for him. He has such a long life ahead of him, marrying me!

These Magazines:

Or rather, how I came to acquire them.

As you know, my job sometimes requires me to wine and dine various members of the media which, for the most part is pretty fun. You get to expense lunch or wine (or both!) and meet new people and then campaigns are more successful because they can put a face to the name when we pitch them, and also we’ve just bribed them with food and/or alcohol.

But for the other part, it’s just painfully, horribly uncomfortable. It’s like going on a first date, except in addition to just appearing like a normal human yourself, you ALSO have to be professional and represent your company in a positive light.

Nightmare.

The other week we had a party for one of our authors (after which I fell on the ice, if you’ll recall) and I met a friend of hers there who is the editor for a very cool magazine called Mental Floss. We hit it off and set up a lunch date for this week to talk books and magazines and what have you. We were meeting at this cute cafe called Westville in Chelsea and I was running late. I burst into the restaurant a few minutes after 12:30 and realized: I completely forgot what this woman looked like.

I knew she was a white person. POSSIBLY a brunette. Other than that, she could have been anyone.

I gave my name to the hostess and started awkwardly looking around the restaurant. There was one gal sitting at a two-top in the corner, her face slightly blocked by another guest’s head. I started to walk towards her to get a better look when the hostess stopped me.

“Oh, that woman is dining alone.”

Ok, I thought, not my girl.

I sat at the bar for a few moments, scanning the room. I spotted another solo woman seated further down the bar playing with her phone. I bored holes into the side of her face with my eyes, trying to get her to look up and somehow she’d realize it was me! Or she’d be like “WTF, freak, and I’d know she wasn’t my gal.”

She did not look up so I tentatively walked in her direction, when the bartender gave his head a silent shake and mouthed “she’s not who you’re meeting.”

First the hostess…then the bartender. This whole staff was WAY TOO aware that I had absolutely no clue was was going on in my life.

I returned to my perch at the end of the bar and tried to pull up my work email, which was being persnickety, so I google imaged my lunch date. I had just confirmed via the googs that she was, indeed, a brunette white lady, when I heard a voice say my name.

In front of me both on the internet AND in the flesh was my lunch date…the very first woman I spotted, who the hostess had assured me was not who I was there to see. She’d been sitting in the corner the whole time, I guess waiting for me to notice her, as I wandered around the establishment like a very sad and lonely headless chicken.

In the end, she was super-duper nice and I think seems like the kind of gal who knows her way around a slightly awkward social situation (I hope she would take that as a compliment!!) but I learned a valuable lesson that day: always, always ALWAYS internet stalk everyone before you meet them in person. It may seem creepy but take it from me: it’s necessary.

Annnnd that was my week. How was yours? Any fun plans for the weekend? I’m hoping to hit up Target, catch up with a pal in the neighborhood on Sunday and also have two birthday parties (POPULAR!!!), including one tomorrow night, a 30th, in Jersey City that starts at 9 PM. WHAT! Turning 30 means you finally have an excuse to start stuff at like 3 in the afternoon. 9 PM? Crazy. I’ll be napping ALL afternoon Saturday, if anyone is looking for me. I long for the day when my friends finally catch up with my elderly sleep schedule.

Have a lovely weekend, sweet pals. DON’T watch Criminal Minds or Law and Order or anything really, except maybe Disney’s Frozen because that movie is a gem and no one gets murdered! Spoiler alert.

xoxoxo Liz

Another Awkward Week – Olympics Edition! [2.21.14]

Здравствуйте, друзья!

That’d be “Hello, Friends!” in Russian. Ohh yes, I’ve got a major case of Putin Fever. Juuust kidding he seems like a raging D but I do love me some ‘lympics so…Sochi 4 Lyfe. At least until like, mid-next week when the 2014 Winter Games are but a distant memory and I’ve moved on to some other temporary obsession.

But for now! It’s nothing but curling and speed skating and two man bobsledding round these parts and I maaaay have completely forgotten to document my ever-important life. So in honor of this XXII Olympiad, may I present, with limited comment…

Five Olympians Keeping It Awkward This Week:

Bob Costas

I mean….yes, your eye infection does seem uncomfortable but you’re only making it worse by incessantly talking about it. I think the appropriate action in these situations is to confidently power forward as though nothing is wrong, not call attention to the problem. I mean, that’s a move I would pull.

And if you’re behaving socially in a way Liz Ho might … you’re doing it all very, very wrong.

Jeremy Abbott

Too soon?

I know, I’m the worst. This poor guy just saw his life’s hopes and dreams and hard work crush beneath him on the ice and even managed to get up and keep skating and the closest I’ll ever get to the Olympics is right here on my couch eating tostitos but people face planting is never not funny.

Am I wrong?

(DIS) honorable mention along with Abbott: ALL of the male figure skaters. Allegedly the premier atheletes in their sport and not a single one made it through without falling?! A disgrace, I say. A DISGRACE.

This Kid

Strike One: With one exception for Anne Lamott, I strongly disapprove of white people with dreadlocks.

Strike Two: WHAT are you wearing. This is the Olympics, dude, show some respect!

Ok, mostly this awkwardness reflects upon me. The hijinks (see: gum chewing on the podium!) and “fashions” of slopestyle snowboarding have revealed what a deeply prudish and conservative granny I truly am.

Olga Graf

Unzipped her skating uniform and forgot she was 100% topless underneath. YOU GO GIRL!!

(Also: how is she speed skating sans sports bra? You srsly go girl.)

These Gods

Just awkward for the rest of us pathetic schlubs who have to wake up every morning and contend with the cold, hard truth that we’ll never ever be as perfect as Davis and White.

Annnnd the end. Gold Medal in the “Laziest Blogger Competition: Short Performance.”

What is your fave Olympic moment?? Let’s dish!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

One Awkward Wedding: Dress Shopping Tipz from an Expert

‘ello. Me again! What’s that you said? You want me to talk EVEN MORE about wedding dresses? OK!!!

I could talk about wedding dresses all the livelong day so I think I just might. Now that I’ve shared the oppressively long and detailed story of my own personal dress shopping journey, I wanted to share a few tips & observations I learned while out in the field. Magazines and wedding blogs always tell you the boring obvious stuff like “know what kind of dresses you like” and “make an appointment” and “don’t eat spaghetti while trying on wedding dresses” but there’s so much more to this magical process and the world needs someone to share the real dirt. I can be that dirt person!

– Be upfront about your budget. 

This might be obvious and covered by other people but I felt it bore repeating. For serious, y’all, just tell these people what you can afford and stick to it. One thing I was consistently impressed with at all of the stores I visited was how respectful they were of my financial limits. I was nervous we’d encounter that seminal Say Yes to the Dress moment where I’d set a strict line for the budget and then someone would haul out a $4,000 gown and I’d fall in love and have some kind of emotional crisis but not one of the consultants so much as attempted to pull that move. They kept ME in check, pulling me away from more expensive gowns and showing me comparable options within my price range.  I was grateful and surprised by this. Other places might not be the same but that’s all the more reason to stick to your guns. Financially speaking. I wouldn’t advise bringing actual guns into a bridal salon…

ALSO: if this means that Say Yes to the Dress isn’t like real life…what else do you think TLC has been lying about?!!

– Wear nude underwear.

Nothing ruins the illusion of a schmancy white gown like hot pink polka dotted undies shining through on your behind. I realized that the only nude underbusiness I own was of the thong variety and didn’t know how appropriate that might be in a semi-public dressing room situation, so the weekend before we went shopping, I spent several hours on Friday night sitting on the floor of Target digging through bins of nude colored underwear trying to find just ONE pair of full-booty coverage bottoms in my size. I managed to find two pair (pairs? I don’t know grammar anymore!) that fit, so I snagged ’em and never looked back. Turned out that both were lace and fully sheer, negating the modesty I’d tried so hard to preserve. Shoulda just gone for the thong!

Related…

– KEEP IT SILKY SMOOTH

Let’s just cut right to the chase: when you’re going wedding dress shopping, you might want to make sure your  whole downtown area is in check, if you know what I mean. Now, obviously I believe in a woman’s right to style or not style her body hair as she sees fit, society be damned, however due to said society, many women (for example me) might feel insecure, for better or for worse (undecided) being seen in her skivvies with an unkempt bikini area. SO if you are one of these ladies, you might want to spend an extra few minutes with your Venus Spa Breeze (not an endorsement, but would love some free razors if you’re offering, Venus) before you hit the shops, because your business will be on display for many and I mean MANY eyes.

Which brings me to this…

-There Is No Time for Modesty.

In the course of my shopping weekend, I think my bresticles (and more!) were seen by no less than 9 pairs of eyes, some belonging to strangers, some to friends, none, PRAISE HIM to my future mother-in-law. I’m all for casual nudity but there are some situations where you might just want to keep a little mystery alive, you know?  

All of the consultants I worked with were polite and offered to look away but honestly, I figured get over it. Again, as I said, I’m not that concerned in general about a little nip-slippage, who cares, (oh you just KNOW I’m going to be such a self-righteous public breastfeeder some day) and especially in front of these women. It’s like being insecure when you go to the gyno. These ladies probably see like 30 pairs of knockers per day, minimum, they are completely immune and genuinely uninterested by your hooters. You can try to play it coy but that’ll just drag everything out and make the whole day slightly longer and more complicated so I say just get over yourself and let those boobies fly.

Maybe don’t accidentally wear see-through underwear, though, this isn’t Showgirls. Sorry, sweet lady at Lovely Bride…that can’t have been pleasant.

– CREEP ON EVERYONE AROUND YOU.

Y’all. The VERY BEST part of wedding dress shopping is the other shoppers. It is like physically being inside an episode of Say Yes to the Dress. A DREAM COME TRUE! The very first boutique I went to was tiny and was just me (snooze) but all of the others had open dressing areas. Well, open posing areas, I mean. We changed in private rooms (now THAT would be some casual nudity) but then all of the mirrors were in outside of the dressing rooms, so that the bride’s peeps could see her…as could everyone else in the room. It was flipping awesome.

It’s important to surround yourself with people who share your interests and hobbies, which is why I choose to hang around people who love spying on and judging other people’s business so you can trust my entire crew was deeply, deeply invested in the lives of everyone around us.

There was the gal at Lovely Bride who was trying on exclusively 4K + designer gowns…all of which were hideous…and the other gal beside me who kept trying on really pretty dresses but then pairing them with like, bad accessories or mis-matched veils and Schmoops and I had to physically restrain ourlseves not to just take over her whole fitting and yell “you’re doing everything wrong!”

She totally was, though.

At David’s on Sunday there was this super cute girl trying on all these short, retro looking gowns and we all kept staring at her and at one point I gave her a thumbs up when I really liked what she was wearing (is is never normal/smooth to give a thumbs up, just FYI), she then started trying on traditional gowns and we all got really nervous and worked up about it because she so clearly was working the short look better…what would she choose?! She chose short and we all cheered (outloud) and clapped for her and she was THE cutest and I love her. Beside her were two Asian girls who may or may not have been friends OR they were both alone and became friends there. Hard to tell. I kind of hope they became friends there and remain life long besties forever. Wouldn’t that be a great romantic comedy?! They kept swapping gowns and trying on the same looks. In our super humble, totally correct opinion, all the dresses they were trying were snooze worthy.

RK Bride was the best though, obviously. I mean, that place was out of control. At any given moment like 10 women were trying on wedding gowns and everyone was crowded around staring at them. I was sharing a 3 way mirror with the woman in the changing room next to me and according to my crew, she was having like a legit SYTTD experience. One of the members of her party, who turned out to be her Mother in Law, kept harshing on all of her choices and the consultant literally said “This is about you. This is your day. Not theirs.”

Aaaaah! I die.

The next day when we went back to pick up my gown we had pah-lenty of time to kill just standing around like morons while the staff looked for my dress. We became BFF with this group of women shopping for a dress for a wedding the week after mine. We were suuuper invested in her search and she picked the dress we all liked the best!!! But then I found out she was having a beach wedding and I found her gown too formal for a beach wedding and was super upset she didn’t ask my opinion first because I thought we were pals?! Girllll why don’t you listen to my advice??

Thennn we went to Heartland Brewery near Port Authority to get burgers (unsurprisingly, the very worst burger I have ever eaten…here I thought the bus station was known for their haute cuisine) and who was seated at the table next to us but ANOTHER future bride we had been all up on that day! She and her mom were sharing a piece of cake (cuuuute!) and we basically accosted them, yelling “OH MY GOD HI!! You looked so beautiful! Did you pick a gown?!”

Annnnd they just stared at us in shock/horror and we had to introduce ourselves as fellow RK shoppers who had been staring at them the whole time she was trying on gowns and that’s not weird at all. So lesson within the lesson: keep your stalking under wraps, you creep.

It was seriously so much fun. I half-jokingly but actually mostly seriously would consider just going and hanging around one of these salons some day just so I can spy on people buying dresses. Seriously I will do it. Would you like to come with me?!!

Ok, enough is enough, I will stop talking about wedding dresses now! I swear. Hopefully these essential, life-saving tips might come in handy for someone, somewhere, someday. Probably not but I just really like giving unsolicited life advice, so there ya go.

XOXO Liz

Another Awkward Week [1.30.14]

Goood morning, you perfect sunflowers. How was everyone’s week? Mine was…meh. I’m in the midst of the blissful lady time known as pre menstrual syndrome and have been basically a living breathing cliche of a hormonal woman. Judd Apatow himself couldn’t write me better.  I was even more hyper-emotional than usual which, as you can imagine, is a real treat. I nearly burst into tears at the slightest of upsets (count your blessings you were not present Wednesday when I was six minutes late to a department meeting at work and almost threw myself out the window in melodramatic despair) and all I wanted to do was eat chocolate chip cookies and listen Taylor Swift. Which is basically my regular life, I know, but this week, it was all the ballads you guys.

THE BALLADS!

Ladies are like…I know it all too well! HAHA get it? NO please don’t. That’s a lyric to a Taylor Swift song. WHAT is wrong with me, I need a musical slash life intervention like, yesterday.

If only we could go Back to December…Speak Now if you’d like me to keep this going…NOPE. Nope. I’m done. Let’s end this TSwizzles fest and take a look back at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This Coffee:

Sunday morning I woke up at like 7 AM semi hungover and totally groggy and realized we were out of coffee, so I bundled myself up for the subarctic temperatures and struck out in search of some joe. (Or, jo, if you’re being tricky in Scrabble, which…don’t even get me started.) I could and probably should have just gone to the coffee shop on the corner and had them give me an already brewed cup, but on weekends, it’s just so much nicer (and more cost-efficient!) to brew at home. Plus you can drink out of a real mug, instead of one of those terrible, flimsy paper cups that always leaks out the lid and gets all over your mittens. Or does that just happen to me?

I had a number of options for purchasing coffee within a few block radius of my home: bodegas which have the cheap stuff BUT don’t take credit cards or fancy organic grocery stores that mostly only carry the expensive stuff but take plastic. As I had no cash, I decided to try my luck with the swanky place.

Now, Brian and I are coffee snobs, but like, on opposite day. We stand very firmly in our belief that the fancy stuff is overrated. Bring us a plain old cuppa joe! Preferably Chock Full O’ Nuts but we’ll go with a Folgers if necessary. None of this fancy, shade grown, pure bean, slow pour hipster bullshit.

I’m sure that stuff actually tastes “better” and is organic and fair trade, while we’re drinking the equivalent of carcinogenic motor oil picked by child slaves in Somalia or whatever and I do feel bad about that, I DO! I feel bad about everything, literally every single thing that I eat or drink or do but sometimes I just don’t have the money or energy to do the right thing, so I’m just going to go right ahead and enjoy my cheap, slave labor coffee.

Today’s unnecessary long winded guilt stricken rant brought to you by the letter C…for coffee!

Anyway, where was I? Oh! In the coffee aisle of the grocery store. Which is actually just a shelf right in front of the register. I was the only customer in the store, so the two clerks got a real show of me wandering around like a homeless person in my 2 layers of sweatpants, fur boots and ear-band over top of a hat over top of bedhead.

I have long maintained that the hardest thing to do before coffee is acquire coffee and this shopping spree proved that theory. OF course they had no regular coffee, and I wasn’t nearly awake enough to make any quick decisions so I stood there staring at all of the options, wandering back and forth, touching all the containers of coffee, staring at labels, trying to figure out if I’d prefer Guatemalan over Colombian. Most of the coffees they sold were whole bean which honestly,why? Why would you make yourself go through all that effort? This is America. In the 21st Century. You can pay someone to do that for you.

I mean, again, yes, it’s probably an impoverished 8-year-old but come on. Get over yourself. No one thinks you’re cool because you smush up your own coffee beans, ok?

(Said the woman who refuses to buy bottled salad dressing…pot calling the coffee ketttle super black.)

Finally, 20 minutes later, I settled on a bag of coffee that did not anywhere on the label at all, trust me on this, guys, say that it was whole beans, paid a cool $12.99 for the stuff (as compared to $5 for a can of chock fulla!) and slogged my self home fantasizing about a steamy, dreamy cup of coffee. I ripped open the bag and OH WAIT … IT WAS WHOLE BEAN!

Come on. Is this grounds for a law suit? I’m going to go ahead and assume YES. I mean, hair dryers have to include  a warning not to put them in the bath tub, I think coffee distributors should be legally mandated to give their friendly customers a heads up on their bean situation BEFORE they shell out approximately six hundred dollars for their overpriced nonsense. I’m seriously taking this straight to the White House.

I’m sure they’ll have time for me just as soon as they resolve this whole Bieber situation.

So, after all that, I strapped my outdoor gear back on, walked over to the coffee shop and did what I probably shoulda done in the first place: I bought a takeaway coffee, in a flimsy paper cup. And honestly…it was delicious.

While I was gone, McGyver Scott tried to grind the beans in our food processor and it did NOT work. Sadly I missed this whole process which is probably for the best, as I would have likely videotaped it and put it on the internet with 50 paragraphs about how great he is … I’m becoming like a weird stage mother to my boyfriend. It’s creepy.

In other grocery shopping news…

This Olive Oil:

$6 for a full liter, only at Trader Joe’s. Once you’ve purchased oil at the Teej there is NO turning back. I can’t justify buying it anywhere else. It’s just so cheap! We ran out this week so I had a TJ’s trip scheduled for Wednesday night when a friend suggested happy hour instead.

I know what you’re thinking, another drunk Trader Joe’s trip, Liz? NO! I solved my Trader Joe’s splurging issue by shopping before I hit the bar.

I mean, OK sure, were the bags of groceries super bulky and awkward as I tried to push myself into the one snug open seat at the swanky wine bar? Yes.

Did the super attractive couple trying to enjoy their date next to me give me suuuurious side-eye as I rearranged my food purchases around me like a bag lady? Sure!

Did they give me double the side-eye when I then spotted a better seat had opened up a mere two minutes later, grabbed my groceries, coat, hat and cetera and begged them to move their chairs so I could snag those seats before anyone came? Of course.

Yes, all of these things happened and yes I definitely caused a scene and yes I then spent $30 on wine which kind of negated the whole olive oil savings which was the reason for this whole trip in the first place but it was worth it guys, it was. I finally found a way to keep my impulse shopping in check while in Trader Joe’s! I just need to make sure I shop for necessities on my way TO somewhere, then I’ll be forced to put down the frozen spanikopita and chocolate covered espresso beans and 8 lb bag of sweet potatoes: ain’t no room for that!

I am a money saving, grocery shopping genius.

This Sleeve:

The other morning I changed my outfit three times because everything I tried on felt too sloppy. Finally settled on a semi-nice cream colored top only to get to work and find the sleeve covered in this ENORMOUS stain.

And it was bone dry, so definitely way old and not fresh coffee. What IS that? How long has it been there? And how sloppy were my other clothes if THIS was the best I could come up with?!

Classay.

Speaaaaking of sleeves…

This Sweater:

But wait! We’ve seen this sweater before. OH YEAH. Just wanted to reassure you that I’m still wearing this bad boy, pen stains, huge holes and all. I’ma keep wearing this until it just literally disintegrates right off my body.

Aaaaand I am done now. I’m done! I’m going to go pour myself a piping hot cup of home brewed, non-organic, cheapass coffee, crank up the T Swift and get this day STARTED.

Smooches!

Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [1.24.14]

Good morning, snowflakes! How is everyone? If anyone is looking for a bland and unsatisfying snack, might I recommend a semi-stale, untoasted, whole grain english muffin spread with some almond butter? It’ll quench your hunger, yes, but also leave you feeling deeply depressed and remorseful that you just wasted your time and snacking energy on such a boring, dumb morsel. GRR!

I’ll be starting my spin-off food blog annnny day now.

Anyway, what is up?! I know I’m stating the obvious here but it is flipping FREEZING. I’ve been wearing tights under my pants all week and I’m not going to lie to you guys…I LOVE it. It’s so cozy and everything feels all snug and secure. I’m might just do this forever. I want invisible full body spanx that just keeps everything feeling all nice and tight.

I realize this effect can be achieved naturally via something called “exercise” but wouldn’t it be so much better if you could just BUY it?!

If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be in my science lab, working on this invention.

JK, if anyone’s looking for me I’ll be right here, like always, talkin’ about myself.

So without further ado, why don’t we take a look at what was keeping it awkward this [polar vortexy] week.

These Jammies:

A college roommate of mine (Hi Alli!) turned us all on to this crazy superstition of wearing your jams inside-out the night before a snowstorm to bring on a snow day the next day. It snowed this week  so I gave it a try … and it totally failed. Whomp. Not like I would ever get a snow day, publishing stops for no man or winter storm!, but Brian was really jonesing for school closure and I’m the nicest fiance ever so I bossily made him put on his pajamas the wrong way but alas: we were foiled.

Bill DiBlasio! I would take back my vote…if only I’d actually voted instead of being such a worthless citizen!

PS. the mismatched socks have no superstitious value, that’s just how I roll.

This Nail Polish:

So this was part of a themed gift from my brother and I love my brother and the gift and the polish IN the bottle, but once it was on my nails it was just TOO much. Too bright or purple or both. No bueno. I hated it so much I couldn’t concentrate. Seriously. I would just sit here all day distracted by the site of my garish fingers moving on the keyboard.

There is this wacky lady at our office who rumor has it took too much LSD at Studio 54 back in the day and now just toddles around the office wearing fur vests and cut-off jort overalls with stockings underneath and hats indoors (a peeve of mine, if anyone’s curious) (as always, no one was) singing in French and disturbing everyone she passes.

She’s a real treat.

Anyway, I found myself standing in the kitchen at the same time she was there (every morning at 11 AM she peels and eats an orange standing over the shared trash can and I KNOW I should avoid the area at that time, but I wanted tea!) and just in case I wasn’t already self conscious enough about my gaudy nails, Crazy Town McGee stops mid peel and squawks: “WOOOOW now THAT is some great nail polish!”

As you can guess, a compliment from this gal = you’re doing something very, very wrong.

I ran away from her, quickly, thinking I must immediately remove my nail polish, but first, I must take some photos for blogging purposes. You always see those photos on pinterest or wherever of a person’s nails with them holding something…I tried to recreate with my own hand and it was straight up impossible. I had to bend my arm in at this totally unnatural and claw-like angle to get my nails in the camera.

WHAT IS THE TRICK? How do they do it? Am I missing something? This seems like a skill that is ESSENTIAL to master if I want to be a successful human.

Here are the photos I managed to snap:

L-R: homage to Twilight, amazing crass mug from my assistant, some vitamins because I saw how rapidly this was spinning out of control, so why not make it extra weird, aaannnnd displaying my engagement ring with my hand pressed firmly against the wall.

I can have this made into a collage & framed if anyone’s interested?

Also YES I did this during work hours yesterday…how am I still employed?

These Meatballs:

Lately our grocery store has been having amazing sales on 3-lb packages of ground turkey so I’ve been stocking up and freezing it to have around.

Fuuuuck me I sound like such a grown-up. “Gotta run down to the deli, Bonnie, they’re having some serious sales in the deli section!”

Oy.

The first time this happened, I did the extra super grownup Real Simple Magazine move of separating the meat into appropriate sized portions and freezing so we didn’t have to deal with thawing and eating 3Lbs of turkey meat in one sitting but for whatever reason, this time I just shoved it right in the freezer whole hog.

Er, whole bird?

It turns out that a solid three pound hunk of turkey meat is NOT that easy to cut into. Just FYI. Brian is an Eagle Scout (!) and if you’ll allow me to get a little schmaltzy for just un segundo, one thing I just love about this guy is that he has a super cute butt. And another thing I love about him is that he always likes to try to tinker around and MacGuyver things until he can fix them. It doesn’t always work, but he always tries and it’s always so adorable and I just want to squeeze him and smooch his face.

Gross, sorry.

Anyway, his solution to the ground turkey sitch? The ol’ chisel trick:

Like Michelangelo turned a slab of stone into David, that sexy hunk of marble man meat, Brian turned our turkey log into two sexy hunks of meat meat, which we then grilled and ate, burger style.

Delicious!

We still had a full 2 lbs left in the freezer, so I decided to thaw it out and make a big batch of  meatballs, about 14 of which we ate with spaghetti in one sitting (it was snowing! don’t judge) and the rest of which I planned to freeze for later consumption.

Like a grown-up!

I put the hot meatballs in a container on the counter and left them there to cool before putting in the freezer because one time, on Thanksgiving, I got into a big snit with my mom because she told me you should let your food cool before putting the leftovers away and I was all “Mooommm! Don’t tell me what to do!” (teenagers, am I right!) (JK, I was 28) and everyone knows you should always listen to your mother.

Except then I totally forgot about them and left them out all night long.

Pwomp.

The ever helpful Yahoo! Answers assured me that eating poultry left out overnight would surely kill me and so, into el garbagio they went.

SO MUCH EFFORT went into using up this godforsaken lump of turkey meat only to throw half of it in the trash. That’s the last time I ever try to responsibly bargain shop at the grocery store. Or just grocery shop at all.

From here on out we’re just going to Taco Bell every night.

(I’ll def need those invisible spanx then!)

This Appetizer:

Chips & Guac! There is this restaurant in my neighborhood that has amazing guacamole which they serve with either fried tortillas or soft tortillas. I went the other night & I guess I forgot the word “fried” and also the word “tortilla” because when I tried to order, it went a little something like this:

Waiter: “Hello, may I take your order?”

Liz: “Yes please. We would like some guacamole and the hard ones. Those hard things. Not the soft ones, the ones that are hard?”

Waiter: “Chips. You mean you would like chips?”

Liz: [red face shame] “Yes please.”

CHIPS guys! A new invention I apparently just learned about. They’re GREAT with guacamole!

This Coffee:

Purchased to keep me warm and energized during a 45-minute wait at the Post Office yesterday afternoon. Except I realized I forgot to put milk in the cup and I haaaate black coffee. I considered going back to Starbucks and just sort of serruptitiously putting in some milk but I had already gotten to the Post Office and there were literally 4576 people ahead of me in line and it was so cold out, so I just stood there and held this stupid, piping hot cup of coffee until it started to burn my hand, at which point I put on one of my mittens (indoors!) but then I felt weird and also I managed to get coffee allll over my white mitten so I took it back off and the coffee had cooled enough to hold and then just 27 minutes later, after the woman in front of me finished arguing with the teller about the availability of rare tiger face stamps, I finally made it to the front of the line,  bought my stamps, came back to work and poured some milk into my now lukewarm, half-spilled cup of coffee.

Best $2.77 I ever spent.

Speaking of money, stamps are increasing by 3 cents starting this Monday, so if you have, say, a pile of save the dates laying on your bedroom floor begging to be sent out, go stock up on those stamps immediately!! I got stamps for STD’s (nope, can’t abbreviate that) and response cards (even though I just want to use internet RSVP’s but my mom thinks it’s tacky…more on that at a later date) and saved a whopping $7.50 by getting them this week before the prices went  up.

How many doves do you think I can buy with 7 dollars and 50 cents? Like a hundred? Two hundred?

This Music Video:

 Actually this is only awkward if you’re the kind of person who hates joy and pleasure because this movie is the jimmity JAM, y’all. I’m actually not that big into Disney films. In truth, I kind of find adults who are still super into Disney to be a little stunted and off-putting and as a feminist, I have a lot of problems with the whole Princess genre but as a human being with two ears, two eyes and one sentimental heart: I effing love them.

So the only awkward thing about this video is if A: you’re an adult who is super into Disney in which case I just offended your kind, SORRY! and B: the amount of times I have watched it this week which would be approx 673. And counting.

I urge you all to RACE out to the theaters this moment and watch this film. You won’t regret it! Unless you hate musicals or sisters or animation or FUN in which case you definitely will but you sound lame, so forget you.

And that’s that! What did we learn this week? Frozen is amazing, tiger stamps are hard to come by, fried tortillas are called “chips,” inside out jammbos do NOT guarantee snow days, purple nail polish is horrible and NEVER EVER listen to your mom when it comes to leftovers.

Good stuff!

Stay warm this weekend, kids.

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [1.17.14]

Hey Skittles! (What? Why?) How was everybody’s week? Mine felt interminable. ‘Twas  my second full week back after my long holiday break and thank the gods of every religion that we have off Monday because I am just NOT having it with this whole five day workweek scenario. A fat no thank you to that.

I just spilled water on my laptop, always great for electronics, and in trying to quickly dry it up, I somehow managed to make the page super tiny small and now my fingerpad keyboard mouse type thingey won’t work and I don’t know how to fix it. HALP! Maybe it will be stuck like this forever and I’ll have to type wearing giant magnifying glasses. NOOOOOO!

Ok fixed it. What a tense moment that was! And we all went through it together. I don’t know about you, but I feel like we’ve really been through Hell and back and have come through the other side, stronger and better for it.

Oh my god, I am seriously losing it. ANYWAY. Ok. So. Where were we? Oh yes! 2014. Here is a gratuitous photo of me & Brian on NYE + our photobomber friend Kamran because I think it’s cute, even though Brian looks like a bit of a demon with this red-eye which I would totally fix if I knew how to use a computer.

3 Year Anniversary! Que Romantique!

SO!I knowww I said I’d be back to my regularly scheduled programming today but looking through my phone/brain, apparently NOTHING awkward has happened to me in the last three weeks! MAYBE I’m normal now! New Year, New You!!! 

Ok, I guess you could count the large chunk I took out of my index finger with a wine opener on Christmas Eve literally one second after uttering “don’t worry, I know how to open a bottle of wine.”

And then the exploding champagne bottle at my friend’s during the Golden Globes.

Maybe I should also confess to eating, in January, SEVERAL cookies from a tin that my department had baked & sent out pre-Christmas as a gift only to have it be returned post New Years. LIKE YOU WOULDN”T.

Or crawling around our apartment on my hands and knees wearing an old t-shirt, no bra and, inexplicably, rain boots, attempting to sweep up the 450-897966 pine needles that rained off of our dead old tree when we finally took it down … last night.

Oh, and of course, there was that incident where I flushed our apartment toilet (POST numero dos) and it overflowed all over the bathroom floor …and we had company over (kill me literally immediately) and I ran out in to the living room where our guests were sitting with a plunger in one hand and 9000 paper towels in the other and very casually cool announced “soooo basically no one is allowed back in our bathroom until I say so don’t ask any questions everything’s fine GREAT BYE! and then ran away to deal with the disaster. I fixed it FYI. 

YES. Those are things that have happened but sadly for us all, have not been photographed. Maybe happily for all of us in the overflowing john situation. Perhaps not a new year, new me at all but just a new year, lazier me when it comes to photography. Better luck next week!

Maybe I just need a little inspiration…in the form of other people’s misery! Help a sister out, friends. PLEASE tell me the funniest thing that’s happened to you these last few weeks? Sharing is caring!

AAAAAAND…GO!

Another Awkward Week – Thanksgiving Edition [11.27.15]

Gobble, Gobble, Turkeys! Who’s excited for Thanksgiving?

I’m pumped UP! Get at me, stuffing.

To be honest, I’ve actually been a little anxious about the impending holiday (LOL, who me? Anxious? Well I nevah!). We’re squeezing a lot into a few short days: first in NJ with Brian’s parents,then down to Philly to stay at my sister’s & do a second turkey dinner and thennnn go up to my hometown in PA to attend my 10 Year High School reunion, for which I have been very actively involved in the planning committee because I have sucker printed big & bold on my forehead, apparently, and then back up to NYC on Sunday to return to the real world.

These are all wonderful things and will be great fun, but I’ve been worried, I have! This is the first year that Brian & I are doing holidays together – my first Thanksgiving away from my immediate family. I know this is just life and adulthood and I need to nut up and get over it, but it feels strange. I’m at once excited and a little bit sad, mourning the end of The Way Things Always Are, instead of eagerly looking ahead to building a new family unit with Brian. I don’t want either of our families to feel left out or given the short end of the deal.Then, this reunion, which can’t be a failure because everyone from high school will hate me! Which…why do I care? I shouldn’t, but I do. I don’t want to let anyone down. Anywhere. Ever!

I just want everyone to be happy and for everything to be perfect all the time forever and an eternity, amen. Is that too much to ask?!

Probably. Mayhaps (an excellent, underused word!) I should be using my brainspace to focus on the good, rather than dramatically worry? MAYHAPS!

And so, in no particular order and certainly not complete, a few things I am thankful for this year:

First and Foremost: Cheesy Clipart 

The 3 F’s: My Family, Friends and Fiance (!)

A few more F’s: French Fries, Fresh Flowers, Farmers Markets, Fleece, Feminism, Forks and Frosties (of the latter, I haven’t had one in years, but I’m just thankful to know they exist.) 

Hulu Plus

Hiking Trails (& strong legs for those mountain climbs!)

Instagram

Sandwiches

My Covered Wagon Lamp

Taylor Swift

The Color Green 

Decorative Gourds

And, of course: all you weirdos who let me rant and rave and tell strange stories on the internet and somehow find that entertaining. Y’all complete me, you really, really do. 

So for you, for YOU I say, why don’t we stop being so damn earnest and get funky fresh. A quick look at what was keeping it awkward this short, carbo-laden week.

These Groceries:

Over the weekend, I stopped by the market to pick up some fresh healthy business because it is a known scientific FACT that if you eat at least one piece of fruit every day for the week before Thanksgiving, you can then have allll the pie and potatoes and wine and you will actually lose weight! Total true fact, gang.

I was walking out of the store when an onion fell down in front of me and I sort of kicked it with my foot, across the street.

I assumed it had just fallen out of the top of the bag. I laughed, picked it up and kept walking.

NOOOOOPE. Turns out the bottom of the bag had ripped open and suddenly all of my groceries went cascading onto the sidewalk. Apparently I had only purchased round foods, so they then went rolling in all directions. I scrambled around on my hands and knees on the dirty sidewalk, chasing after apples and lemons and onions, oh my!

A man actually walked past me and said “you a mess, girl.”

OH AM I? No duh, neighbor. Charmed, I’m sure.

It probably didn’t help that I was sporting this get-up, in public:

Oh yes. That’d be moccassins (with a hole in one toe), Valentine’s Day socks pulled up OVER leggings, a neon blue t-shirt and severely greasy hair all topped off by that food-stained, grotesque zip-up hoodie which should never be allowed out of the house. I actually acquired that beautiful specimen on a first date many a years back.  The guy was polite enough to give me his jacket when I was cold…but not so polite as to ever call me again, so I got to keep the sweatshirt. Booyah. I should don’t know if I should feel like, insulted that I never heard from this guy,  but c’mon, dude wore a poop-colored sweatshirt on a first date…nothing to waste too many tears on. 

This Plastic Bag:

Remember that guy from American Beauty who was all obsessed with the beauty of plastic bags blowing in the wind? Well, imagine how many more Oscars that film would have won if one of the plastic bags had blown up and hit a beautiful young (ish) lady right in the face as she was walking to dinner.

Imagine THAT!

Just look at that bastard, hanging out in a tree, taunting me. I’ll get you back, bag. Never rest. When you least expect it: oh, I’ll be there.

Other inanimate objects getting all up in my business this week…

This Umbrella:

I came home from the movies late last night (Catching Fire! One Million Stars! Movie of the Year!) and it was a torrential downpour outside. I closed my umbrella when I came in the building and went to leave it outside of my apartment door, to dry. I guess I dropped it way hard and it landed riiiight on the top which somehow caused a chain reaction, forcing the umbrella to POP open, smacking into my shins and causing me to trip into my front door.

I almost died. Right there in my own doorway. I’d NEVER make it in the Hunger Games.

And that’s my week! Short and sloppy. Just like I like my turkeys.

What are YOU thankful for this year?!!! 

Wishing a very Happy Thanksgiving, to all near and far. Strangers or friends. Or foes! Even foes! Have you ever called someone a foe in real life? Like “oh, that guy over there, he’s my foe.” That’s another word we need to bring back into day to day conversation.

And a Happy  Happy Hanukkah to all my Jewish peeps out there. Shalom! Mazel Tov! Other Jewish Words!

xoxoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [11.22.13]

Good. Morning. Dudes. How’s everyone doing? I’m not gonna lie to y’all: I’m a scoonch on the cranky side. I just can’t seem to accept the fact that it is not yet the weekend. That we still have 8+ more hours of working and wearing pants and generally being not on the couch. I can’t get behind that. I call a foul on the whole earth. Everyone, it’s time to go back to bed!

Ok to save me from launching into a full on melodramatic tirade about the cruelties of the modern world, why don’t we just try to put on our happy pantsand take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week.

This “Poncho”:

One possible factor in this morning’s mood: it is grey and rainy here in the NYC. Also, I couldn’t find a single one of the dozens of umbrellas I suh-wear we own, so I fashioned a poncho/rain bonnet out of a garbage bag.

Genius or pathetic? I’ma go with genius. Watch yo’ back, MacGyver. Two can play this game.

Wish I could say this was the first time I wrapped myself in plastic this week but wait, nope…

This Bib:

I got to go to a super swankadoo work event on Wednesday night (The National Book Awards! One of our authors won!) so I was looking extra good at the office all day. A blazer over a cocktail dress can instantly take it from day to night! Did you know that? I should write for Vogue!

ANYWAY. We all know how good I am at eating food and I was worried about getting my lunch all over my dry-clean-only, snazzy day/evening wear so I hooked a grocery bag to the lapels of my blazer et voila: a bib!

Pure sophistication right there.

Speaking of pure sophistication…

This Makeover:

If you recall, one of my New Years’ Resolutions for 2013 was to figure out how to wear red lipstick and drink whiskey. Lofty goals, I know. On Friday evening I hosted some of my lady friends for an evening of trying whiskey and lipsticks. We called it Classy Broads Night. To give you an idea of just what kind of broads we’re dealing with here, one gal announced that she’d arrived via car service (classy!) … but also wasn’t wearing a bra (less so!). It was one of the best nights I’ve had in quite some time.

One friend, Kathleen, has become a fermented grain mash aficionado, so she led us in a guided taste test of  four different types of whiskey, each one more disgusting than the last. She was very official about the whole thing. First she poured us each a small portion (possibly called “a finger”)  and then instructed us to “spend the next five minutes smelling it.” Fun activity! While we sat and sniffed, she gave a dramatic reading from the back of the bottle, explaining the whiskey’s history, flavor palate (i.e. “mint, leather, papaya, wood and Sweden” – yum!) and other general information. All of these were hilarious. If you are a struggling creative writer looking for a place to get out all of your best metaphors, flourishing adjectives and overblown narrative, might I suggest applying to be a whiskey company copy writer? These jabronies take themselves wa-haaaay too seriously. From the website of one of them:

WE DIDN’T SET OUT TO EMBODY
THE SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE AND
SELF-RELIANCE OF THE HUDSON VALLEY,
IT JUST TURNED OUT THAT WAY.

Did you, though, really, guys? It’s whiskey. I love my booze as much as the next Irish Catholic lush but let’s all just calm it down a notch or 73.

Moving on. After we sat around and sniffed, Kathleen then allowed us to begin sipping.

“Like a shot?” someone asked (see what I mean about sophistication?)

The thing about whiskey is – it is terrible! Every sip burned. Kathleen told us it’s supposed to hurt, just power through the pain. When one pal exclaimed that her esophogus was on fire, Kathleen assured her “that’s good!”

WHAT! No. “Pain is good for you?” That’s what they tell people in like, the NFL. Or concentration camps. Why are we consuming something that smells like nail polish remover, burns our esophoguses (esophagi?) and requires time and effort to enjoy.

I’m still not on board. I tried. I really tried! I know that whiskey is sexy and rugged and sophisticated and girls who sidle up to a bar and order bourbon, neat, are totally smokin’ hot babes and I really want to be all of those things…whelp, I am not.

I’m an extra large glass of bargain brand Sauvignon Blanc. And I’m just going to have to live with that.

In the midst of our tasting, our other friend Nicole, who is a makeup artist gave each one of us a brand new, beautiful lipstick and showed us how to apply, complete with lip liner. Ooh la lah. Everyone looked stunning and amazing and then, since none of us know how to wear lipstick, we spent the next several hours alternating between staring at ourselves in the mirror (Kathleen!) to sitting very still, trying not to move our lips when speaking, for fear of smudging. We all need so much help.

My color was called Russian Red and as you can see above, it looked pretty good! I was feeling seductive and badass until…this happened:

How. HOW HOW HOW did lipstick end up on the bridge of my nose? I guess I touched my mouth and then wiped my face? I was probably biting my nails (gross, I know!) but why was I then rubbing all over my nose? There are no answers to these questions.

So there you have it. New Years Resolution 2013 … complete? I drank whiskey and wore red lipstick and pretty much failed at both of them but I’m just going to go ahead and call it a wild success.

Cheers!

And I guess I’ll just take this whole classy drunk theme to the end with a story for which I don’t have a picture because, as you’ll see below, I wasn’t quite in the photographing state.

As I mentioned, Wednesday night I was out at this fancy party for the National Book Awards. The party started at 10 PM (on a school night! Are you kidding me?!), so to kill time between work and the party, some friends and I got a few glasses of vino before hitting up the high endopen bar for several more hours. A whole WORLD of good decision making right there. I am not joking when I say that I am still hungover. I can’t hang like I used to, guys, I just can’t. How does anyone a) stay up past 10 PM on weeknights, just in general and b) drink heavily while doing so and then c) leave the house the next day? My entire body is in pain. All day yesterday I was just wishing the grim reaper to come upon me with his cape and his scythe and just put me out of my misery.

Anyway, I think that I had the idea to include something in my blog about wearing a blazer and then putting a coat over it and how weird that feels. Double the coats! Does anyone else ever experience this? Men? Do any men (aside from Ross, hi Ross!), even read this blog? Do you ever get used to wearing a coat over another coat? What a strange strange world we live in!

So I guess that was in the back of my mind and then I had a semi-awkward incident again involving my jacket at this NBA party – I’d left my coat & tote (rhyme!) in the coat check but of course couldn’t find my check ticket when I was getting ready to leave, so I had to walk around the cloak room with the attendant til I found my stuff. She then wouldn’t just give it to me, I could be a common thieving robber, so I had to give her more explanation.

“What is the brand of this coat?” she asked.
“It’s from H&M, I got it on sale, and it still has an old dry cleaning tag stuck to it from when I took it to the cleaners several winters ago.”

Nailed it.

“What’s in this bag?” she asked.

“Dirty Tupperware!” I declared, triumphantly.

Nailed it again.

I should not be allowed in fancy places.

I guess I thought this was hilarious and amazing and wanted to be sure that I remembered to blog about it, so on the taxi home I sent myself a drunken email that reads as follows:

Coat clog: coat over blazer, coat check lost ticket.bag full of tullerware . 

Also.dont forget apple

So there you have it. My coat clog! And what do I mean about the apple? No freaking clue.

Famous last words: I am seriously never drinking again.

And that was my week! God willing this hangover will subside any minute now. Otherwise I might just end up in the fetal position under my desk listening to the Dream Girls soundtrack and quietly weeping. I don’t know if I could blame that on booze, though, that actually sounds like a nice little Friday afternoon right there.

Hoping everyone is in a significantly better state than I am at the moment! Any good plans for the weekend (I’ll be sleeping) or stories from the week? Make me laugh, it’s Friday!

xoxoxoxo Liz Ho