Another Awkward Week [4.5.13]

Ugh, worst blogger on the interwebz right here, I KNOW. I have a plethora of excuses, some are work related, some are travel related but I can’t lie to y’all: most of them are TV related. Being so busy the past few weeks, I’ve fallen behind on all my programs and in addition to playing catch-up, I’ve added a binge watch of Justified to my agenda. Which like, just what I need is another TV show to get hooked on, I know, I know, but my sister is a big fan and she was expressing sadness that noone else she knows is into it, so she has no one to discuss with and she wished more people would watch it and FAMILY FIRST, I can’t just let my baby sister suffer alone with no one to talk to about her favorite television shows, what kind of monster do you think I am, soooooooooo now I’m bingeing on Justified. But it’s all for her!

You might even say, it is justified.

 BA DUM BUM! I’m out.

 Just kidding still here. And real quick, just in case anyone else has been considering getting justified  but needed a little more convincing, the show stars this guy:

timothy   WHAT! Can I get a hummina hummina up in here?

 Sorry. I’ll never say “hummina hummina” or “up in here” ever again.

 But I couldn’t help myself! Gentleman is just too good looking. You might even say that “hummina’ was….wait for it…yeah, I’m going back again…JUSTIFIED.

 The end. Shut it down forever. Let’s get this Friday over with.

 Here’s what was keeping it justified awkward this week:

This Turnstile:


Or one like it. If someone hasn’t already made a blog of weird shit that happens in the subway, well they should. This place is a goldmine.  Homeless people sleeping. People preaching the word of god. Mariachi bands. Flashers. Ladies throwing their tampons and birth control all over the place. Ladies holding up traffic taking photos of the turnstiles. It’s a big ol’ mess!

The other night I was coming home from Whole Foods with a few bags worth of cleanse friendly goodskis (ends tomorrow! Bring me my wine!) and this guy rushed into the turnstile just as I did, basically cutting me off mid card swipe. He seemed really in a big rush, so I stepped aside and told him to go ahead. And, ok, maybe my voice was dripping with some mild disdain, but I was generally polite and a normal human being. But this dude, you guys, he just stopped right where he was standing, basically next to me, looked straight ahead, did not acknowledge that I had spoken to him and waited for me to go through the turnstile. 

“Um, you can go ahead,” I tried again, louder, maybe he was deaf, and his eyes sort of flitted over to me ever so slightly, I watch a shitton of crime procedurals so I know how to read delicate facial tics, and I KNEW he heard and saw me but instead of going through the turnstile or telling me to go ahead or saying any words or making any normal body motions, he just continued to stand there, still as a statue, staring straight ahead, waiting, I guess, for me to go through. 

So I did. And he then immediately sped up again, rushed through the turnstile, past me and down the stairs to the train platform. 

WHAT IN THE WHAT WHAT was this guy’s problem. Do you think he was a robot? That when I stopped him in his initial attempt to go through the turnstile he shut down and had to reprogram and power back up again? 

It was weird, guys.

This Book:

Detailed Info Here. 

This is apparently a real thing. DISCLAIMER: I was watching Scandal last night (Olivia Pope!) (all I do is watch TV!) and saw an ad for this new show How To Live With Your Parents for the Rest of Your Life which, admittedly, looks like a complete disaster, but I could sah-wear I recognized one of the actresses and it was bugging me that I couldn’t place her so I went over to Google to check it out and as I typed in the words How…To…Live…With…the auto-fill brought finished my search with “A Huge Penis.” I mean, I could have just finished my search and NOT immediately clicked on the link for this big penis guide, but, come on. Do you even KNOW me? I was at Amazon faster than a something-something-insert gross joke about magnum condoms here.

And this is what I found. I’m sure this is a joke. It must be a joke? But how MUCH of it is a joke? Is the author REALLY a Catholic priest? Is penis literature something they started allowing in Vatican II or did I just miss this whole lesson in CCD? Who are all of these people writing 5 Star reviews and are they joking? And most importantly, WHY am I spending so much time thinking about this.

Shut it down, Liz. Shut it down.

 Also, in case you are curious, the actress I recognized was Mary Louise Parker’s neighbor on Weeds. Mystery solved!

This Sign:


Another of my crazy landlady’s understated decor pieces, this hangs just outside of our apartment door. The other morning I guess I slammed the door a scoonch too hard and the sign fell to the floor. I could not, for the life of me, figure out how to hang it back up without being 100% crooked, so now I guess I have to confess to Connie that I am trashing her biblical plaques. 

Also: because this sign hangs directly outside of my apartment door, at the top of the staircase, I see this sign every single day when I come home and therefore every single day of my waking life, I have the lyrics to that song in my head.

If you ever went to any sort of Christian bible camp or retreat or youth group meeting, you KNOW what I’m talking about and you know the hand motions. Though I’m now a hell bound heathen, I dabbled in religion in my youth, as I’m sure all goody-two-shoes girls did at one point or another, and so I have a pretty basic memory of the top modern Christian Worship songs of the early ‘00’s, all of which are complete nightmares (to me! If this is your jam, JAM ON!) and 100% impossible to get out of your head once they’ve wiggled in there. I guess that’s the power of the lord buggin’ in your brain or something.

Anywhoo: if you know the song I mean, SORRRY it will now be stuck in your head for the rest of eternity and if not, well, here is a terrifying/fascinating YouTube clip to get you started:



This Sweet Tote:


I have about 8 zillion tote bags, one of the two perks of working in publishing (the other one is free books. yay?) and yet always seem to be without one when I need it most. I needed to lug some dirty tupperware home the other night and found this stylin’ number abandoned in one of our book closets.

 As I’ve mentioned here before, I’m really not one for animals and definitely not one for attired adorned with animals, which I find so overly cutesy it makes me ill. Except for owls, which I wear all the time because they are cool looking and super hipster so I guess I am a hypocrite (hipster-o-crite?) (NO.) and I should just shut it and be glad for this new tote bag.

But come on, y’all, would you wear this?

These Gross Stains:


On a running shirt & a pair of jegs. WHAT is this mess? Very Lewinsky. Very classy.


This Restaurant:


One of my faves in NYC! I went there yesterday on a blind friend date. When I studied abroad I became friends with this French guy Nico and a few years later he visited New York with his then girlfriend Lucie and we met for drinks and Lucie revealed that she was interviewing with the UK branch of my company the very next week, so we became “friends” on social media and keep up with each other that way and I’m pretty sure she and Nico have since gone the way of the dodo but we’re still internet pals and a few weeks ago one of her UK friends took a job here in the US so Lucie put us in touch and yesterday we got lunch. This is the longest and boringest and dumbest introduction into a story that, I’m not gonna lie to you, does NOT have a very good payoff. Keep reading?

So I was here at Westville meeting a guy I studied abroad with’s ex-girlfriend’s former colleague for lunch. Capiesch? I had friended her on the Facebook so I was pretty sure I’d recognize her but you never know! I was standing just inside the door, a woman walked into the restaurant, lit up with a smile and waved in my direction, I smiled, waved back and was about to say “Hello!” when she breezed past me….to another solo woman standing directly behind me.


But it was a great lunch and now I have a new friend! You can never have too many friends OR tote bags. That’s what I always say! 

Aaaand that was my week. I’m off to New Jersey for the weekend – tonight Brian’s sister is running a track meet at Princeton University, so we’re going to be spectators which should be cold and boring but, as I said just moments ago FAMILY FIRST sooo, yeahhh. No, it will be really nice – I love his family and obviously want them to love me more than a Liz Ho loves cheese, so any time I get to hang with them is a-ok in my book.

And Saturday, I’m SO excited for Saturday, we’re going to a Holi party. Do you know what Holi is? I barely know more than the first paragraph of its Wikipedia page, but I do know that it is a joyous Hindu holiday known as the Festival of Color. People gather and eat good food and celebrate and then throw colored pigments and paints at one another. Here are some pictures, if you’re curious! I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks!

And what are YOU up to this weekend? I’d love to hear it. Whatever you do, make sure it is JUSTIFIED!

Nope, OK, officially dead.

xo Liz Ho


One ANGRY List

It’s been an annoying morning. Some of the issues are all on me – like spending time shaving my legs only to wear pants, ugh – but other issues like the rain or the man who came to a dead standstill immediately upon entering the subway, disabling me from fully entering the car and causing my purse to get stuck in the closing doors are totally not my fault and therefore I will sit here and complain.

And so, in honor of this crabapple of a day, a not nearly complete list of minor offenses that throw me into a blind rage:

When people don’t clear the microwave timer after heating up their food. There is a clear/reset button for a goddamn reason. I once had to have a sit down discussion with a roommate to say “it’s not you, it’s definitely me, but if you continue to leave three seconds on the timer every time you make a bag of popcorn I will murder you in your sleep.” I can barely walk past the office kitchenette without having a full-on panic attack. I’ll be honest, microwave time erasure is the least of our shared kitchen etiquette issues but is it THAT HARD to clear the time?

Unpainted toenails. Ew.

When full-blood American people pronounce ethnic foods with a foreign accent. I don’t mean to sound all Michelle Bachman or whatever, but this is America and here in America it is called maatzarellah. Not Mootzarellll. Croissants are not cwah-sawwwhs they are crah-sants. I understand there is a desire to preserve, or dare I say, show off, one’s heritage but just cool it. I’m super Irish but you don’t hear me ordering like, “a pint ‘o guinness for me fine leprechaun friend’ every time I’m in a bar. Just call it rah-cahhh-tta. Please.

When “friends” make a big scene of their engagement on le Facebook but DON”T make an easily searchable public wedding page for me to judge.  I’m a snarky, unmarried lady with exquisite taste in all things and absolutely no hobbies. Give me something to doooo!

When men sit widely spread eagled on the subway taking up two seats. I understand the nature of the male anatomy but I highly, highly doubt it is so big as to disable you from closing your legs. And if it is that gigantic, Mazle Tov! Stand up and show it off to the whole train so I can sit down and do my crossword puzzle.

Ok, enough venting for one day. I’m feeling better already! Who or what is making you mad today? C’mon, let it out. You know you want to!