Another Awkward Week [10.17.14]

It is FRIDAY and I have nothing clever to say as I’m plagued with a wicked fall cold (OR EBOLA?) (NOT EBOLA errrbody needs to calm down) and I slept about .4 hours last night so I’m running on fumes. That last one is totes my fault though. I went to see Gone Girl last night (4 out of 5 stars, great job everyone!) at 7:10 and I knew I shouldn’t have any caffeine but truly, I find there are few pleasures greater in life than an icy cold fountain Diet Coke and some peanut M&M’s in a dark movie theater so I decided you know, what the hell, treat yo self, Liz. And THEN when I got to the concession stand (which, never call it a snack stand. As a former “concession engineer” at our local movie theater MoviE-town, which is a play on our town’s nickname E-town, I can say that snack stands are for swimming pools and roller rinks, show some respect) I meant to get a small Diet Coke, which was already like 48 gallons but saw that the medium was just 50 cents more AND had a picture of Taylor Swift on the cup so I was like, lemme-lemme upgrade me because I am as basic as they come and THEN I drank this whole giant soda which of course had my heart racing like a pony all night so, yeah, I didn’t really sleep.

I’m clearly not in the state to write anything coherent this morning – and I have to like, work, ew – sooo instead I will just share a little Autumnal gift with you and leave you with my favorite piece of seasonally appropriate, office inappropriate internet writing. I did NOT write this but oh, wish that I had. Genius! I did however put a lot of time into staging that casual instagram photo accompanying the text so yeah, I think I might be the more brilliant talent in this situation.

Happy Friday, Motherfuckers. And Happy Fall!

 

 

IT’S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON, MOTHERFUCKERS.

BY

IMG_20141017_095413

– – – –

[Originally published at McSweeny’s, October 20, 2009.]

– – –

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with an insanely ornate assortment of shellacked vegetables. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my shellacked decorative vegetables, assholes. Guess what season it is—fucking fall. There’s a nip in the air and my house is full of mutant fucking squash.

I may even throw some multi-colored leaves into the mix, all haphazard like a crisp October breeze just blew through and fucked that shit up. Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking gourd necklace for myself. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those gourds straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another gourd onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply, “It’s fall, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you’re not.”

Carving orange pumpkins sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Performing an all-gourd reenactment of an episode of Diff’rent Strokes—specifically the one when Arnold and Dudley experience a disturbing brush with sexual molestation. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Felonies and gourds have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.

The next thing I’m going to do is carve one of the longer gourds into a perfect replica of the Mayflower as a shout-out to our Pilgrim forefathers. Then I’m going to do lines of blow off its hull with a hooker. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s fall, fuckers.

Have you ever been in an Italian deli with salamis hanging from their ceiling? Well then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of misshapen, zucchini-descendant bastards swinging from above. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical Italian laugh coming from me. Consider yourself warned.

For now, all I plan to do is to throw on a flannel shirt, some tattered overalls, and a floppy fucking hat and stand in the middle of a cornfield for a few days. The first crow that tries to land on me is going to get his avian ass bitch-slapped all the way back to summer.

Welcome to autumn, fuckheads!

Advertisements

Winter? I barely know ‘er!

20130122_211105-1

You see a lot of you know “real” bloggers accompany their posts with charming candid photos of themselves hangin’ out in stylish outfits,

so here is a photo of me, wearing my winter indoor wear and dumb hat. It’s slightly topical. You are welcome!

So listen. You don’t need me to state the obvious, this isn’t facebook (burn!), but winter is upon us. It is here. Baby, it is not warm outside.

Some people love the winter. Other people hate it. I generally come down on the side of No Thank You, but in the interest of fair and open-minded thinking and attempting to blog with more frequency, why don’t we just make a little list of all of the myriad good and bad things that Old Man Winter has to offer and rejoice in both the glory and the horror of this present season on earth. And now, without further ado:

Winter! The Pros 🙂 and The Cons 😦

Con: Everyone is so pale. Even if you’re a naturally pale individual, there’s something in the air in the doldrums of winter that just sucks all of the color and life out of your flesh until you are just  white, like, beyond Edward Cullen level of pale, like an inhuman, dead blob monster.

Con: Every November, 5 – 10 lbs attach themselves to your hips and midsection and it is 100% impossible to lose weight in the winter. Look it up. It’s science.

Pro: No reason to be seen in a swimsuit or any sort of cropped topped apparel!

Pro: You basically never have to shave your legs.

Con: So, your girlfriend is probably a hairy monster at this point.

Con: Hats. Miserable! I look terrible in hats. I have a small, scrawny head and un-brushable, frizzy hair that is impossible to restyle once a hat has been donned and removed. Hats are just not my friend.

Pro: Maybe you are one of those assholes who looks cute and stylish in hats and can pull them off with aplomb. So I guess, then, hats might be a pro for you. GOOD FOR YOU.

Con: When the little fringy bits of your scarf get stuck in the zipper of your coat.

Pro: How delicious is a big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs on a brisk evening? SO delicious.

Pro: See Also: Red wine.

Con: Death by frostbite.

Pro: Death by chocolate. This doesn’t really have anything to do with winter, I just always thought it seemed a pretty good way to go.

Con: Overheated apartment buildings. My landlady keeps our building at about 80 degrees at all times (probably needs climate control for all of those holiday decorations), to the point where I’m sleeping in shorts & t-shirts with the windows open in the middle of January.

Similar Con: The heat is so drying, my skin is basically peeling off of my body like some kind of molting snake or moisture starved magma rock or something.

Another Similar Con: Loud, clangy, bangy radiators.

Pro: I suppose we should be grateful for central heating…

Con: It gets dark at about 2 PM.

Con: Standing around in crowded bars holding your bulky coats and scarves and layers and such because, obvi, there are no available tables or coat hooks to be found.

Pro: ALLLLLL the more reason to just stay at home and go to bed early!

Pro: Control-top pantyhose. There’s something just so reassuring about knowing all of that winter white flab is locked in and secure. Not goin’ anywhere.

Con:  Friends sharing photos from their mid-winter tropical vacations. The weather is there, I wish I were beautiful!

Pro: Flannel.

Con: Wool.

Neutral: Cotton, the fabric of our lives.

Pro: Snow, while falling and the first 3 hours of laying upon the ground.

Con: Snow, anytime from 3 hours until the final meltdown.

Pro: Ending on a pro, because I am an optimist:  Adult Snow Days. Rare and beautiful things.

And on the subject of rare and beautiful, here is another stunning photo of me, acting cash in my loungewear. Arousing, I know.

20130122_211117