Another Awkward Week [12.13.12]

Good morning, turtledoves! 3 posts in 3 days? A Christmas miracle!

Speaking of Christmas, it is in 12 days. What?! Mind boggling, y’all. Have you finished your shopping? I have…not. Even close. Still plenty of time for me to run around the office stealing free books to hand out. It’ll be fine!

Do you guys like Christmas music? OF COURSE YOU DO! What are you, monsters? My friend Kathleen recently turned me on to this internet radio website called Songza, which is like Pandora but better. You go to the site and they offer you a variety of stations based on your mood.

“Good morning” it greets you. “It’s Friday morning. What do you feel like hearing?”

It then lists a wide variety of genres you could pick from – holiday, pop, classical, instrumental, et cetera- and then narrows those down even further. Do you feel “Too Cool for Yule”? If yes, would you like Indie Holidays or Christmas Schmaltz, which is holiday songs written by Jewish musicians? (Answer: both!) Do you want pop? If yes, you can choose “All I Want for Chrismas is POP!” (emphasis theirs) or Teen Pop Christmas, whose description reads:

“Embrace your inner teenybopper with these teen idol holiday hits. Whether you grew up in the Golden Age of Boy Bands or with the current crop of Disney stars, these songs will have you singing along.”

I obviously listened to that one, unironically, for HOURS UPON END and loved every second.

I’m still not sure what an Ariana Grande is…but I like it.

So that’s what’s going on round there parts. Just a Helpful Holiday Tip from my home to yours.

Ho ho ho!

Now, why don’t we take a look at what was keeping it awkward this festive, frigid week.

This Whole Thing:


We had our company holiday party on Monday night, once again leaving me to risk ruining a day-to-night outfit by spilling my lunch upon it. Took the bib route one further by creating a full-body shield, consisting of a scarf wrapped around my lower half and my “desk sweater”  buttoned way way up to cover the top. My desk sweater is, of course, the cardigan that I leave at my office to wear on days when it gets nippy inside…I think it’s been here for like 4 years and has never been washed. Haha GROSS LIZ.

Anyway, this was all a pretty smooth move to cover up, as it took me less than 12 seconds to cover my lap in salad.


Not pictured: the chick pea that bounced off my knee and rolled under my desk. Don’t worry, I found it and threw it away!

So this holiday party. As I may have mentioned before, my company merged with another big publishing company earlier this year (fascinating stuff), so this was our first holiday celebrating together. My company has never had a big formal Christmas party – instead we celebrate Halloween with our big, drunken in-office costume party.

The other company, however, does a whole big formal thang and this year everyone from both groups was invited to come party down in a hotel ballroom in midtown Manhattan. It was very swanky and fancy and very, very, VERY crowded. So I did what I always do in situations where I feel socially anxious and overwhelmed, which is zero in on the food table, load up a plate, find a corner to hide in and stuff. my. face.

I managed to drop a piece of fancy deli meat on the floor at one point and must have also dropped part of a pulled pork slider, because when I got home that night I realized that one of my  party heels was covered in barbecued pulled pork.


After gorging ourselves on too much salty Asian food (the buffet situation in this place was off the hook!), my colleague and I decided it was time to throw in the towel and headed off in search of large bottles of water (we were literally puffing up right then and there from all the sodium & wine) and trains home to bed.

Before we headed home we took a pit stop in the bathroom. We saw the sign for the men’s room in one corner and couldn’t find the ladies’ anywhere.

A large man neither of us had ever seen before (he’s probably like our new CFO or something, please no one fire me) was standing near us and noticed our predicament.

“Go in the men’s room,” he said. “It’s for ladies’.”

“No…mens’ rooms are for…men?” We replied.

“Not tonight.”

We couldn’t decide if we were being tricked or if he was some kind of creep luring women into the men’s room (again, potential new CFO, please forgive our misunderstanding! I’m sure you’re a great guy!) so we tentatively walked over to the bano and sure enough, found this:


SUPER CLEAR MESSAGING, guys. Men’s room…Women Only.

I guess that the actual ladies’ room was further away from the ballroom and since publishing is about 97.3% female, they figured they’d do the gals a favor and switch up the rooms for the night but it seemed a little unnecessarily complicated for my taste.

I sound SO ungrateful right now and I don’t mean to! It was a really nice party and I appreciate that my company put it together for us … I just thought this was funny. I also dislike large parties full of strangers and small talk and need to work on my social skills like STAT.

Let’s look at another Christmassy moment…

This Coat:


This is a terrible photo. ANYWAY, as you can see my puffer is covered in goop. That’d be tree sap, my friends.

Brian and I got a Christmas tree over the weekend from a vendor about a mile walk away and carried it the whole way home (#humblebrag) upon which point we were positively covered in sticky pine sap.

Both my coat and good leather gloves were complete disasters. I took to the internet to come up with a solution and they recommended peanut butter for leather (ok) and hand sanitizer for other fabrics. Doable!

I have scrubbed my coat three separate times now and it’s still not all out…at least it’s super germ free and sanitized? and the PB DID get the sap out of my gloves, but now they’re covered in nut butter so…yeah. Upgrade?

And while I’m allowing snippets of sentimentalism this week (gross!) here is a photo of a very cute ornament that our friends Caitlin & Brian sent us. Our first ornament for our first Christmas tree together!!



And finally,

This Game:

Have you guys heard of Ellen DeGeneres? She’s a famous television personality and super smooth dancer. She’s also now the creator of this app / game thing called Heads Up and if you’ve not yet downloaded it, I recommend you do it IMMEDIATELY.

It’s basically a digital edition of like, celebrity meets charades meets taboo meets other fun party games… just trust me, it’s awesome.

One member of the group holds the phone to their forehead and presses play. The app will then display a word and the rest of the group will have to try to make them guess what it is using clues, be they verbal or physical or even humming. You can pick from songs or celebrities or news or a whole bunch of categories and it is SUPA FUN andddd doesn’t require anything more than a cell phone which you probably already had out on the table anyway because your’e rude and addicted to snap chat so you can play it anywhere, anytime, with anyone!

My pals and I were out at a pretty quiet bar on Saturday night (where, side note, I tried whiskey again and NOPE STILL DISGUSTING!) and decided to play a rousing 750 rounds of this game. There were a few other patrons in the bar, most of whom seemed more delighted than annoyed by our antics…that is, until we got to the charades round, where I LITERALLY drove a couple from the bar while trying to mimic the word “hurdle.”

I mean, sure you’re on a date night, cozied up on a couch, enjoying some intimate cocktails,  but I don’t see how a grown woman galumphing into your space, leaping and flailing her arms and screeching really ruins your night, party poopers.

Live a little!

Bonus fun thing for this game is that the app also tapes what the group is doing – so while the guesser is holding it up to their head, it’s recording all the funny yelling and flailing and acting that the rest of the crew is doing. You can then send these videos right to Ellen and if they’re good, she might play them on her show! It was too dark for us to capture clear videos but thought I’d share that fun fact in case you’re trying to become the new Sophia Grace or whatever.

Woo woo!

And there you have it. The week that ’twas! Have yourselves a merry little weekend and if you’re shopping for me, I’d like a unicorn, please!


Liz Ho Ho Ho

Another Awkward Week [2.1.13]

Oh my god, you guys. 30 Rock is over. My life IS OVER. Just kidding, we still have Netflix and I personally would rather see a show do 6 outstanding seasons before coming to a cohesive, meaningful end while they’re still on top, rather than skidding along, a ghost of their former greatness ala the US Office or How I Met Your Mother.

Do I care way too much about television? How DARE YOU imply such a thing.

So yes, last night was sad and I’ll miss my cast and crew of TGS but life will move on. And when I’m sad, I can always dress up in my Liz Lemon costume and drown my sorrows with sandwiches and off brand cheese puffs:


I spilled sandwich all down the front of my shirt directly after this photo was taken. As true a tribute to Liz Lemon as could ever be imagined.

I went above and beyond prepping food for this party and am now considering a side job where I plan and host TV theme parties. I’m only 12% joking. Would you like to hire me?

Below are a few snaps of the excellent feast I whippped up, and do note this will probably not make sense to you unless you’re a 30 Rock fanatic, in which case you can go ahead and scroll to the next segment of the blog,  using that scrolling time to reevaluate your priorities and life choices.

30 rock food

Night Cheese, D’Fwine, Hayum, Teamster Sandwiches and the higlight of the meal: cheesy blasters. And how do you make a Cheesy Blaster, you ask? I’ll let Liz explain:

And that’s exactly what we did! Using this helpful recipe here, I took some hot dogs, stuffed them with some jack cheese, wrapped them in a pizza and we had cheesy blasters.

cheesy blasterThanks Meat Cat!

And I’m not even for one second going to pretend they weren’t the greatest thing I’ve ever eaten. See what you’re missing, vegans!

And that was my Lemon Party. A delight it was. Now let’s leave 30 Rock in our rearview mirror and move on. Here’s what else was keeping it awkward this week:

This Chicken Foot:

chicken foot

Because it is a chicken foot and it is just lying (laying? help!) on the floor of the subway. Grotesque. If you were to ask me what I love most about living in NYC I would respond “EVERYTHING!” But then if you were to ask what I hated most, I would say “except rent and chicken feet.”

This Hole:


Because it is in my favorite pants and yes that is a picture of my crotch. You’re welcome, Mom! She’s so proud.

These black stretch jeggings from The Gap were my favorite pair of pants, bar none. I wore them a minimum of four times a week without shame. I look amazing in these pants. They’re also about as close to pajamas as you could possibly get without actually wearing Pajama Jeans.

Well, they are no more. Last Saturday I wore these to a Crafting Party at a girlfriend’s house (details on THAT to come next week!) and then went immediately out to a nearby restaurant to meet another friend for her birthday dinner. While gathering my things to head to dinner, my crafty friend asked “what do you have between your legs?” The answer, it turned out was absolutely nothing. Just air floating through a gigantic rip just three inches south of my babymaker.

I had two options: go home or find some other pants I could wear out to dinner. My host rummaged up a pair of black leggings that I thought I could rock solo, until someone pointed out that they were completely sheer and sporting a solid control top.

Tights are not pants, girls.

I managed to get my ripped pants on over top of the tights and in the dark of night it was hard to tell what a mess I was but oh, I still knew. Last week sweaters, this week pants.

I could not be classier.

And that’s that. A short list, I know but I kind of had my hands full cheese shopping, so please forgive me!

And how was your week? Did you bare your hooty ha for all the world to see? Weep over a comedy TV show? Stuff a hot dog with anything fancy? You know I’d love to hear it.

Anything big planned for the weekend, too? I am going to be a Productive Pamela. I’m going to write (!), file my taxes, go to yoga, go to Trader Joe’s and then I guess watch the Beyonce Bowl. I probably won’t accomplish half of what I’m setting out to but I’m hoping that by putting my intentions out for the whole internet to see, I will feel guilted into getting shit done lest ‘ye judge me lazy. Let’s see if it works!

Ok, I’m outta here. Happy weekend, nerds!

xo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [12.17.12]

Good morning, everyone! As the Bangles once said, it is just another Manic Monday.

I’m popping in today with my Week in Review regularly scheduled for Fridays. I try to keep things pretty light and goofy and self-absorbed round these parts but when I sat down to write on Friday afternoon, those emotions were pretty hard to come by. I won’t say much about the Connecticut tragedy here because, really, what could I say, aside from “Good news, I’ve invented a time machine!,” that could make any sort of a difference?  My thoughts remain focused on peace and comfort as we start a new week.

[Insert awkward segue from sincerity back to self absorption here.]

I hope everyone had a nice weekend, for me it was one of the best. Friday I went on a double date to the theatre! Well, a high school play, but that totally counts. The drama club at the high school where Brian teaches was performing Clue: The Movie live on stage and it was a masterpiece. I’m not joking. I’m going to start spending every weekend watching High School plays. That’s totally normal, right? Saturday we were invited to a few holiday parties, all being held in our neighborhood. Any excuse for me not to have to leave Brooklyn is a true Christmas miracle. We wined and dined and in between parties we saw the ceremonial lighting of what is billed as The Largest Menorah in the World:


I feel like there must be a larger menorah out there somewhere, like, this is not that tall, but what do I know. I’m a Gentile.  Fun idea for anyone out there looking to make the Guinness Book of World Records: you now have 365 days to start crafting an even larger menorah. Hop to it!

Then yesterday, I hosted a group of my girlfriends for a Classy Christmas Brunch and it was a smash success. I was determined to make this a Pinterest-worthy affair better than what any Bullshit Blogger might conceive of and, listen, I don’t want to brag too much but I think I nailed it. I don’t have many photos because I was too busy having a good time to take artful shots of like, my manicure while holding a mug of steaming cider or whatever but as you can see from this one beautiful snap, not only was there a glittering Christmas tree and a champagne cocktail with fresh cranberries floating in it, but I filled a frickin mason jar with candy canes.


Like. A. Boss. I didn’t even see that on the internet or anywhere. Just came up with it all by myself.

Goddamn it I’m good.

And that was the weekend! Here’s what else kept it awkward last week:

This Hat: 


A holiday gift from some media colleagues. I’m really pulling it off.

This Car:


It’s tough to read but what you’re seeing is your standard mini-van decked out with those cutesy stickers depicting their perfect family of four…directly next to a 50 Shades of Grey bumper sticker featuring Christian Grey’s catchphrase “Laters Baby” above a pair of handcuffs. Mommy Porn personified.

“What’s this sticker say, Mommy?”

“Well, Tommy, Mommy and Daddy are getting their groove back thanks to bondage role play and terrible literature.”


This Video:

Because it is hilarious and because I am so guilty. Are you guys on instagram? I’ve become totally addicted and this video pretty much hits the nail on the head. Making matters more awkward, I have to admit that I had to watch it twice, the first time I missed most of the jokes because I was busy instagramming (now a verb!) this pointless photograph of a popcorn tin:


 Social media, you’re ruining us all! Follow me on Instagram @LizHo914!

And there you have it! I thought I had more stories to share but I’m coming up blank. Just five  more days until my long winter’s nap and I am phoning. it. in. I promise to be back with more hilarity soon!

Have a holly jolly week & make sure to hug someone today. Love is contagious.

xoxo Liz Ho

Another Awkward Week [10.26.12]

Happy Friday, my fine friends! How was your week? Mine was jam-packed and busy. I still don’t know what I’ll be slash do for Halloween this weekend, a fact that is stressing me out more than it should. I always win so hard at this holiday, how am I dropping the ball?? Luckily, today we have our corporate sponsored boozy costume party, which should be a raging success and hopefully ease my own personal failure. I can’t tell you what my work costume is yet but it does involve one of those inflatable donut shaped pillows that people sit on to soak their hemorrhoids in the tub. Pretttty sexy!

Without further ado, here’s what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Bakery 

Which I’m assuming sells tarts but might want to reconsider their font. (Sidenote: Once Upon a Fart is so the title of my memoir.)

This Graph

Polls are getting definitively penis shaped out in Ohio…

(From this article – I try to keep up with politics & all I can do is snicker and make wiener jokes. A true patriot.)

These CD’s 

Because this week, much to my chagrin, I developed a debilitating Taylor Swift addiction. I find her so obnoxious but her music is so infectious and catchy and perfect and amazing. I think she might be a robot or an alien using sassy country pop revenge music to subdue us before her species comes and takes over the earth.

My new assistant purchased her new CD & burnt it for me, including track listings with her personal commentary (She finds Track 7 to be “meh” but at track 5 writes “I get goosebumps at 3:25, so sue me.”) You guys, I think we picked a winner here!

This Corporate Slogan 

Because, ew, congrats?? I guess it’s great to be the best at whatever you do. Also the fact that this sign was posted inside a porta-john in the median of a busy Brooklyn thoroughfare and is probably for construction worker use only but sometimes you’ve been at the park all day and you just really have to go and don’t think you can make it home and it’s not that gross, guys, they are #1 at picking up #2, so…yeah.

And that’s my week in review! How was yours? Have a happy & safe Halloween if you celebrate it this weekend. Stay hydrated! Don’t take homemade candies, they’re filled with needles. And if you DO wear a pleather sailor girl outfit, I don’t want to know.

xoxo Liz

One Awkward (Non) Pick-Up

It’s always exciting when you’re in the beer line at a party (at your own house) and a dude (who’s met you several times before) comes up to you in the beer line and says “Hey Sexy.”

And then you (flirting) say “Did you just call me sexy?”

And he (horrified) says “No!! I just called you Lexie…isn’t that your name?”

I know I’m supposed to have a secret identity, but I’ll tell y’all one thing: my name sho’ ain’t Lexie.

One Awkward Celebration

Wow. I’m like, the worst blogger ever. The “One Awkward Year” movie is going to be a real snoozefest. I’ll have to write some shower scenes to spice this bitch up.

Anyway – here’s something to ponder on this fine Day After MLK Day: Office Parties. What is the deal with office parties?? (Get it? Cuz of that one Seinfeld episode? Lol?)

Office parties are a rare phenomenon in that they are awkward for nearly all of humanity. In recent poll of Awkward Social Interactions conducted by the Better Business Bureau of Sandy Falls, WI*, Office Parties came in at a close second, just under Communal Bikini Waxing.

I work for a relatively large department so we have frequent reasons to get down, office style. There are birthdays, random professional achievements, holidays, etc. All of these parties begin with a group e-mail commanding that we meet at “The Usual Spot” at a certain time.  “The Usual Spot” is a filing cabinet located just outside of the main bosslady’s office. This proximity allows her to continue working through the party and pop out just long enough to make some kind of toast and, if we’re really lucky, coerce everyone into singing “Happy Birthday.”

Inevitably, the first person to show up at the party is the guest of honor – you can’t be late to your own hoedown- and he or she will continue to linger, alone, next to the platter of Betty Crocker FunFetti Cupcakes until the rest of the team manages to pull themselves away from their cubicles. (We take ourselves very seriously.)

Finally the department gathers and shares in a joyous celebration, avoiding delving into their personal lives too much, sticking to such safe topics as TV (“That Paula Abdul sure is wacky”)  and food (“Man I love cheese. Cheese, cheese, cheese.”) There is, of course, always the oversharer (“I had sex on the beach on vacation!”) and the jokester (“You don’t look a day over 54, Patty.”) and the one who can’t talk about anything other than work (I’m not coming up with an example for this, you get the drift.) but I’d imagine that if God would draw thought bubbles over our heads (how fucking sweet would that be??) we’d all be thinking the same thing: “Why can’t I just take this cupcake back to my desk, and continue reading Harry Potter fan fiction and pretending it’s the New York Times, just like I did for the rest of the week. Ron was about to put the Nuderamous curse on Harry and I really, really need to know what happens.”) **

And that’s probably my cue to wrap this post up. I could say more, but things are getting ridiculous.

In Love and Basketball,


* Yeah, I made that up.

** Maybe that’s just me . . .