Another Awkward Week [5.16.14]

Oh my god, you guys. What is even happening? This week simultaneously flew and crawled by. If it were an animal, this week would be some kind of monster breed of like, a snake and a bald eagle…a creature which surely exists in the world of George R. R. Martin…who you can blame when this post is THE worst because I’ve fiiiinally started watching GOT and am, of course, obsessed. I’m not very good at casually consuming pop culture. When I decide to get into something I go ALL IN.

Watching GOT is this weird experience for me because I love to read about pop culture, especially television (I mean books! I always read books and articles about books!) (#employeeoftheyear) and have this weird habit of following recaps and news about shows I’ve never watched. Like, I have never watched one second of that show Sons of Anarchy and yet I read the Vulture recap every week and know basically every plot point. Same for Homeland! And then I’m like “why am I so busy and stressed?” when really I’m just wasting my time watching TV or reading about the TV I don’t watch.

ANYWAY, I don’t read the GOT recaps but I do keep up with the news and headlines, it’s kind of hard to miss when you spend as much time at Vulture as I do, so I sort of know what happens…but sort of don’t. I know the names of a lot of the characters and some major plot points (Red Wedding!) but didn’t actually know what all of these people looked like or how they related to one another or when these major plot points actually happened, so every episode I’m like “Oh! Khaleesi!” “The Lannisters!” “Which brother and sister are having an inappropriate sexual relationship?” (Spoiler alert: more than you’d think.)

Do you guys watch this show? It’s so good! A smorgasbord of deception and manipulation and war and boobs and murder and boobs and boobs and butts and boobs! All my favorite things. We’re about halfway through Season 2 and shit is going OFF. I love it.

Ok I will now stop talking about Game of Thrones…but basically if you’re curious what I’ve been up to all week and why this blog is short, boring and poorly written: blame G.R.R.M! Winter is coming!

Let’s take a look at what (else) was keeping it awkward this week.

 

These Permanent Markers:

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With which I was doodling while on a call and oh look they bled through my paper and now I have permanent ink stains on my desk.

This kind of behavior would get you held back from recess in kindergarten.

This Tupperware: 

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It’s become sort of a joke with my assistant that she always walks into my office while I’m eating…because I’m always eating.

Funny stuff, I know.

WELL we took the scenario one step further, maybe too far this week when she walked in as I was licking hummus off the lid of my tupperware snack container.

I WISH I could say that was the first and last time I’ve ever done that but I can not lie to you, my friends. I’ve done it before and I’ll surely do it again.

I should not be allowed out in public.

(Also: my thumb is so disgusting…let this be motivation for me to stop picking at my fingers.  GAH-ROSS, Liz. Gross.)

This Computer Screen:

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Isn’t it giant? I KNOW.

So I’ve been trying to engage myself better in our corporate culture and take advantage of some of the classes and learning opportunities provided by my company. This week I signed up to sit in on a marketing strategy course via Web Ex, which is lingo they did not define in our class…I think it means like, via the internet? I don’t even know. Basically, I signed into some program that allowed me to see the deck being presented in the class as well as hear the teachers and other participants speaking. I was also apparently supposed to hook up my phone or some other sort of microphone so I, too, could participate but OBVZ I a) don’t know how and b) didn’t realize that my computer doesn’t just have some kind of built in microphone device.

The class started and the teacher asked everyone to go around and introduce themselves. I waited for my colleague to go before me and then started to chime in “Hello! This is Liz”…and they just kept on breezing to the next person. I waited until the next person spoke and tried again, this time a little louder: “Hello! It’s Liz!!!” They didn’t hear me. I leaned into the speakers, where the noise was coming OUT and tried to make the noise go IN: “HELLO IT IS LIZ CAN YOU HEAR ME????”

Surprisingly this did not work.

It was basically a parody of a geriatric woman who has just seen her first iPad. 29 going on 90.

PS: do you guys watch Inside Amy Shumer? She is DIVINE and I recommend diving deep into her archives but this particular video is especially appropriate for illustrating this tale. I’m the clueless mom character, of course.

(PS: If you look closely enough you can see all the important tabs I have open: numerous searches for “at home bikini body workouts” (I hate myself), some kind of feminist article (to counterbalance my buying into the idea of a “bikini body”) and one tab where I was apparently googling myself. WORKING HARD!)

This Turnstile:

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So last weekend we were in Philadelphia for a wedding, wedding-going is our #1 hobby and pastime these days (after watching Game of Thrones, that is!!!) and while we were there, I got stuck in a subway turnstile.

I, Liz Hohenadel, who rides the subway at least two times per day, sometimes more on weekends, found herself entangled in the metal bars of the turnstile, like some kind of martian who first landed in the deep midwest and then went blind and then visited the Big City for their very first time.

I can’t even explain what happened. I put my token in (Philly still uses actual tokens! It’s so quaint!) (That sounds demeaning but I mean it in a positive way.) and I walked forward and then the bar got stuck and I stepped back and then I stepped forward again and then I pulled the bar backwards for some reason and then it wouldn’t go forwards again so I kept pulling it further back…maybe hoping it would like, do a full 360 and flip me over like a pig on a spit right onto the subway platform? I don’t even know.

The woman working at the token booth had to get involved and believe you me…girl was NOT amused. I am going to go out on a limb and guess that working the token booth in the Philadelphia subway system is not exactly full of sunshine and daisies and butterflies, unless those are the names of the homeless men peeing in the corner (it’s really not nice to make jokes about homelessness, I know) but this lady DID NOT CARE if I got myself through the turnstile or not and had no plans to help me through.

You know who else had no plans to help me through? OH that’s right, BRIAN. You know, my life partner and love of my life who stood there watching me and laughing. Just cracking up, busting a gut laughing while the future mother of his children, woman who irons his shirts for him (not because of gender roles…I’m just better at it) and who is going to walk down the aisle and marry him in exactly 3 months from today (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) got trapped behind bars. I could have died there! And he just laughed! And then, when I finally got through and we made it to my sister’s house, announced: “Sorry we’re late, Liz got stuck and caused a scene in the subway.”

RUDE.

Long story long, somehow I freed myself, the wedding was lovely and I’ve now ridden multiple subways all week without incident so…good times.

And that, my dear pals, was my week! What have YOU been up to?? Any weekend plans? I’m going to Pittsburgh for…wait for it…wait for it…any guesses… a wedding!! I am SO excited for this one. I mean, I’m always excited for all weddings but this one will be very dear to me. The bride Brigette is Maggie’s BFF, they’ve known each other since they were about four years old, and have been besties ever since and in that time, Brigette has become like a member of our family, coming on vacations, being part of inside jokes, she was even there when we first started calling our mom The Schmoopster. Tomorrow she’s marrying this great, great guy and it’s just going to be so neat seeing her start this new adventure in her life and I’m so honored to be there. Also starting new adventures: Brian’s sister is graduating from college on Sunday! So Brian and I are splitting up this weekend – me to a wedding, him to the graduation, which of course makes me feel weird and guilty and like I’m personally perpetuating the idea that marriage is a more important achievement in a woman’s life than an education but I MIGHT need to stop taking myself so seriously and calm it down. Maybe?

BASICALLY it is an exciting weekend for many people who I love so hooray! Let’s party. Everybody dance now!

I’m losing it. Have a great weekend, buddies!

xoxo Liz Ho

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Another Awkward Week [10.4.13]

Hello, pumpkins. It’s October! It’s also 85 degrees in New York City right now.  Ridiculous!

Is there anything more exciting than talking about the weather?!  No siree. Except maybe this announcement: I have completed the first of my 30 Before 30 challenges, holla! As of this morning, I am only in debt on one credit card! And also in student loans. And most certainly to my mother. But still: baby steps.

I started my foray into credit card debt  while studying abroad my junior year. I know I’m amazingly irresponsible but I still maintain that travel is a worthy cause of debt. Live a little! See the world! I would, however, recommend putting the card away when you return and not breaking it out at the first pair of riding boots that catch your eye. The “I swear I’ll pay it off the second the bill comes” trap is far to easy to fall into, trust me, I’m an expert. I would also recommend not opening a second credit card – especially if it is a specialty store credit card – for me, The Gap – no matter how much of a discount they offer you just for opening. Sure you saved 40% on that chambray tunic but suddenly it’s three years later and thanks to copious ‘members only sales’ and promises of points and bonuses for non-clothing purchases you’re a thousand bucks in the hole with little more than some flimsy cardigans to show for it.

I’d also recommend not moving to New York City or working in publishing but far wiser people than I have done it quite successfully with little to no financial hardship so maybe just don’t listen to me at all when I’m dishing out money advice and/or life?

Long story extra long: I dipped into my savings account (which up until last January was at a standard balance of like $32, but that’s another story for another day) to pay off my Gap credit card. It was scary to write such a huge check, from money I’d worked so hard to save, but it feels like the right move. The interest rates were staggeringly high, and every minimum payment I made felt like a sad drop in the bucket. I still have a long way to go on my other debts but I feel like I’m headed in the right direction. I am pretty flim-flamming proud of myself, I’m not gonna lie about it.

Whoop! One (major!) challenge down, 29 to go…

Is this what responsibility feels like? It’s refreshing! And terrifying. Mostly terrifying. Someone give me back my credit card. I see some pants I need…

No! Let me distract myself with story telling! Why don’t we take a look at what was keeping it awkward this week:

This Feast:

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Did everyone watch the Breaking Bad finale on Sunday?! OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG! No spoilers but I will tell you this much: my friend Kamran and I pulled out all the stops on our epic finale party. Or wait, the opposite. Across the interwebs we saw blue cocktails with home made rock candy and Heisenburgers...my own brother even made a blue cake decorated with blue “meth” sugar candy (well, it was more green than blue, such a Todd that guy!).

Kam and I managed to put down some blue (meth!) berry ice cream, three dozen “Pollos Hermanos” wings, a few slices of pizza and half a bottle each of scotch and Pinot Grigio.

Classy and festive. Or lazy and gluttonous. Little of both?

And if you don’t know what any of these things mean, WELL, it sounds like you’ve been wasting your time doing dumb stuff instead of catching up on Breaking Bad so, sorry I’m not sorry. Get your life together, man.

These Gifts:

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Let’s see…the largest of the bunch is a housewarming gift for my friend and her husband who bought their home in oh, May. The smaller in gold and silver is a wedding gift for my cousin who was married on the 5th of July… the colorful package below that one is another wedding gift for my friend Maureen, who was married on the 6th of July, wrapped in birthday paper because I ran out of the fancy wedding stuff. 4 months late and inappropriately wrapped. Regular old Emily Post right over here.  (Also, both gifts are the same, involving the couple’s initials and wedding dates. Both couples are M+M and married within one day of the other so the probability that I mixed them up is about 80 to 1. Just cross your fingers this all worked out.)

The stack of birthday wrapped packages are gifts for my godson and his twin brother on their 3rd birthday, which was just Wednesday so I’m only like 3 days late on that one.

I actually bought all of these on time, but let them linger in my office for months because I’m just the laziest. Or, OR, hear me out guys: it’s strategic and thoughtful. I understand that there must be a sense of sadness after a wedding ends or several months post-birthday or house closing – all of your planning and saving and celebrating has come to a close and you go back to your sad, dumb, boring life with no presents, or parties or cake. UNTIL! Six months later, suddenly, you open your mailbox and, what’s this?!?! A gift?! For me?! The celebration lives on! Once again your bask in the glow of your newly wedded/habitated/born bliss and feel special and loved again.

THAT is why I’m always late. It’s not that I can’t get it together…it’s alllll  a part of my master plan.

You’re welcome, everyone.

Wondering what’s in those packages? Not telling…except this one peek.

These Books:

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Best book EVAH! Got one for my godson….annnnd a copy for me. I haven’t read it in years! What a classic.

My godson Michael is one of a set of twins – they each have separate godparents. It doesn’t feel right to get just Michael a birthday gift, but I felt like I needed to do something special for the guy, since I am his spiritual mentor and all. I realize that I’m not exactly a pillar of Christian morality (whoops) but do think I could teach the kid a thing or two about something that I believe is truly valuable: lit-rah-chaaa. Every year for his birthday I’ll help to build his library, supplying him with my favorite books I read as a young person. Last year I got him The Phantom Tollbooth and this year, the Mixed Up Files. He just turned three, so he likely won’t be diving into these for a few years, but when he’s ready I want him to be prepared with a fully stocked, totally badass library.

I’ll make this kid a bookworm if it’s the last thing I do!

I guess that’s not really awkward, unless you count me reading books for 3rd graders on the subway. I just wanted to show off that, though I send them way late, I DO give solid presents.

Now, time to overshare. You ready for this?

I don’t know if you are.

This Toilet:

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Some BOLD color choices up in this apartment.

Last week when I wrote about my multiple public restroom disasters, my friend commented thanking me for keeping the toilet humor classy and I was so honored. I don’t want to reach too high for the stars, but that’s kind of my goal. To be the classiest inappropriate person on earth. Can it be done? Well, this next story might push the limits but I think it’s important to share.

So. Wednesday evening I was going to a friend’s house in the neighborhood for a ladies’ grilled cheese evening and stopped off at my apartment between work and her place to drop off my things and rinse off, as I’d gone for a run near my office and was smelling like a real peach.

The house I grew up in was pretty old, with a plumbing system to match – flushing a toilet anywhere in the house would set the hot water totally haywire, so you had to be really careful before taking a shower. Any flush action within like, 20 minutes pre-shower could have you shivering in ice water the whole time. Consequently, I never, ever flush if I you knowww before hopping in the shower, even if it’s a number twosie, which is totally never is because girls don’t poop. Except when they do, which is sometimes before they get in the shower. Or so I’ve heard.

I just close the toilet lid, scrub up and flush when I get out.

WELL. Wednesday evening I was rushing around to get to Abbe’s house, my brain a million places at once. Brian was working late, so I came and went before he made it home. I was halfway to Abbe’s house when I got that horrible, sinking anxiety feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’d forgotten something. You know how you can convince yourself that you didn’t unplug the iron or turn off the stove? Well I was suddenly just horribly, devastatingly positive that I’d forgotten to flush the toilet, leaving a delightful surprise waiting for poor Brian.

Now, we’re pretty open (some might say too open) (some would probably be correct) with discussing our bodily functions, but there are some lines that can’t be crossed, you know? Not yet, anyway. We’ve lived together for TWO MONTHS, we gotta save something for the future! If we start seeing each other’s doo-doo two months in, what’s left at two years? Twenty-two? I literally can not imagine…nor do I want to.

I contemplated turning back around but it was too far for just a hunch and plus: what if Brian beat me there? So I did what any weirdo would do and texted him:

“Listen. If you get home ant he toilet seat is down…flush it before opening. Don’t ask any questions.”

Charming.

Guys: this is real life. No one prepares you for this stuff! When you make the decision to move in with a romantic partner, whether it’s pre-marital or post, no one clues you in to the actual HARD TRUTHS of cohabitation. Sure you hear all about splitting finances and chores and making sure you get alone time but NO ONE prepares you for the very real and probably inevitable possibility of seeing the other person’s poop.

Well, now you’ve been warned. Tread lightly. Double check that you’ve flushed.

Luckily it turns out that I had, in fact, remembered, so this whole situation was just an act of unnecessary oversharing, anxiety and weirdness (my three best qualities) but I still think it the creep-o text was better than the alternative. And Brian still seems to be attracted to me (what a freak!) so I think we’re in the clear.

FOR NOW.

You can count on me to always report the most vital of information from the front lines of living in sin…whether anyone actually wants to hear it or not.

Annnnnddddd I think that’s as good a point as any to shut this mother DOWN. It’s Friday y’all. We made it. What’s everyone up to this weekend?

I trust you’ll keep it an appropriate mix of classy and shameful, whatever you do.

xoxo Liz Ho

Welcome to The Dorkyard, Bitch

In this week’s ‘Holy Shit, I’m Getting Old’ news, apparently the television masterpiece The O.C. premiered ten long years ago, making it a full decade since we first heard the phrase: “Welcome to the O.C, bitch!”

This fact kind of blows my mind. Where does the time go?!

We already know I had a deep, abiding love for all things Newport Beach (fake engagement to Adam Brody, anyone?) and it turns out I’m not alone. The internet is abuzz with tributes to the show, from The Daily Beast to Grantland to HuffPoVulture is even running a full week of O.C. themed coverage. I try not to get too wrapped up in nostalgia, but I can’t help getting caught up in the enthusiasm this time.

You see, this show actually holds a deep and special place in my memories. When The O.C. premiered in the summer of 2003 I was in their prime target audience: I’d just graduated from high school and had nothing but time on my hands and a deep interest in all things teen melodrama. The show aired just enough episodes before school started back up to get viewers hooked and upon arrival at college, it quickly became a sort of ice breaker with the girls on my dorm floor.

“Do you watch The O.C.?” someone shyly asked over getting-to-know-you games in the building lobby.

“Oh I do!” I chimed. “Me too!” said another pal. One of the gals invited us all into her room later that night to watch and et voila: a lifelong friendship was born.

We watched every episode together that year, crowding together on the tiny dorm beds or the floor with the neon pillows and blankets that were de rigeur of collegiate interior decor of the day.  I still maintain that the first half of the first season of The. O.C.  is one of the greatest pieces of art ever created. The rest of Season One and some of Season Two are still top notch, before shit really got cray (RIP Marissa!!) but oh, the beginning of that first season, before Oliver came onto the scene, and life was all bagels and Chrismukkah and Captain Oats and Ryan/Marissa sexual tension, damn, you guys, that was some great TV. And not even ‘guilty pleasure’ watching, either. Just solid, humorous, dramatic, just soapy enough, good TV. 

And whether it was trash or gold, it was a cornerstone of my friendship with my very first college girlfriends, a group which collectively came to be known as “The Dorkyard.” Because, you guessed it, we were dorks. And prouddd of it. We were a group of A+ goodie two shoes who all voluntarily lived in the substance free dorms freshman year. We spent most of our weekend nights watching corny TV movies, eating junk food, going to the movies or Barnes & Noble together and loved every second of it. Time has passed and a lot of us have grown up, changed and moved on but I still hold these women in a special place in my heart and consider our years together in The Dorkyard to be some of the most formative and important in my life.

And The O.C. was there through it all.

Allow me to visually illustrate my story here.

After Freshman Year we all parted ways for the summer and came back the following September equally excited to see one another…and the new Season of The. O.C. To celebrate the premier of Season 2 we had a themed viewing party…complete with costumes and virgin cocktails because, well, we’re the weirdest.

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Here we are in all of our glory. Clockwise from top left we have Summer Roberts, Kirsten Cohen (me in my blonde days! woof!), Marissa Cooper, Julie Cooper and Anna Stern. You’ll note that we’re missing some very key characters, namely Seth and Sandy Cohen and Ryan Atwood but, well, it’s just not that easy to convince boys to dress up like O.C. characters. Or so I’ll have to assume. I’m sure it doesn’t take a detective to realize that we didn’t really hang out with a lot of boys at this period in our lives.

Who need’s ’em! Let’s look at more pictures!

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Here we have frenemies Kirsten Cohen and deliciously evil Julie Cooper snarking it up. That drink in my hand is a foreshadowing of Kirsten’s upcoming alcoholic spiral, one of the show’s low points. Kirsten Cohen will forever be my role model and life hero. I love that women. That said, huge soft spot for old Julie Coops, too. Bad girls are so much more fun.

I just had a memory! I went to an LGBT support meeting in college one time and we all had to go around the room and say our favorite quote from a book or movie or TV and ALL I could think of was a recent episode of The O.C. when Julie seduced Marissa’s ex boyfriend Luke and she shows up at his door and says, really dramatically: “Luke, this is a booty call.” And so I said that as my favorite quote. WHY! I don’t even remember why I thought that was funny AT ALL, I just did. And everyone looked at me like, why are you the weirdest person ON EARTH and proceeded to rattle off inspirational nonsense from like, Shakespeare and Toni Morrison and Shawshank Redemption and all I can come up with is some weird quote about booty calls from a teenage soap opera. Whyyyyyyy!

I never went to another meeting of that club again. I could have made such huge inroads in gay rights by now but I was too embarrassed by how weird I’d been and quit the club. Whomp.

Never not losing the point of the story, am I?

Moving along…

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Romantic rivals Summer and Anna. Who will Seth Cohen pick? The comic book cutie or the unattainable girl of his dreams?!

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And ONCE AGAIN, Marissa Cooper is passed out drunk on the lawn. Will Ryan come to her rescue? Will she finally get her act together and lay off the sauce? Or will she continue on a path of bad decisions (both chemical and romantic), shoot her boyfriend’s ex-con brother and eventually die in a fiery car crash, hunky Ryan sobbing over her dead body, while ‘Hallelujah’ plays in the background?

Ummmmm spoiler alert:

Oh what a show.

Yes, it ran wildly off the rails and do not get me started on the whole final season where Summer is like, a trustafarian wierdo at Brown and Ryan’s in a coma and hallucinating  and what have you, but those first few years, dang they were something special. As were the nights with my college pals -whether we were snuggled up in bed or prancing around dressed as our favorite characters. Memories of the two are linked in my mind as some of the best days of my life.

Did you nerds watch The O.C.? Or do you have any shows/movies/books/albums/etc that are inexorably linked with a particular time and place in your life? I’m always so fascinated by that sort of multi-pronged sensory memory, how for me, hearing a certain Joseph Arthur song (oh those hip soundtracks) or or the word Tijuana (“It’s ‘tia-huannnnna,’ mom, god you are so white”) can ship me right back to the early days of college, to the Dorkyard. I’d love to hear what works that way for you!

Aaaand thus concludes my contribution to The O.C.: Ten Years Later archives and, unsurprisingly, it turned out to be a lot less about the show than it was about ME. Shows may come and go but some things never change.

California, here we come!

One Awkward Engagement

Before you get too excited allow me to clarify my link-bait headline up there, I am not currently engaged. Believe me, when it happens, you’ll know.

A quick question: do you guys watch The Bachelor? I do not. Surprisingly! For as much TV as I consume, I generally don’t get too sucked into reality programming, for whatever reason. From time to time I will find myself invested one season of a show – the Joey Fatone/Apollo Anton Ono season of Dancing With The Stars, the Boston Rob season of Survivor, Kelly vs Justin on American Idol, The Voltaggio Brothers on Top Chef – but then the next season I just miss all the contestants from the year before and get bored and move on to other nobler pursuits, like feeding the homeless and writing government petitions to stop animal abuse.

Just kidding, I just find other TV shows to fill my time. What a life.

Despite the fact that I’m not a big Bachelor fan, I am hooooooooked on this web series Burning Love. It is a comic send-up of The Bachelor and it. is. hilarious. Season One, featuring Ken Marino as the dimwitted firefighter bachelor (instead of offering a rose, he asks contestants if they will “accept his hose.” Double Entendre: Never Not Funny),  is now playing on E!, so do what you need to do to watch that one, and Season 2, a Bachelorette edition is in-season RIGHT NOW at Yahoo TV. Go, go goooooo:

http://screen.yahoo.com/burning-love/

June Diane Raphael, who is srsly underrated IMO, is the adorable, self-absorbed, mildly unhinged Bachelorette who gets to choose from a wide variety of hotties including Michael  Cera, Ryan Hansen, Adam Scott, Jerry O’Connell, Colin Hanks and the real-life Seth Cohen himself: Adam Brody.

seth-cohen

Chrismukkah Comes Early!

This mashup of the Bachelor and the Brodester brought back a swarm of memories from an earlier time in my life, my first engagement.

Say WHAAT?

I know, totally out of left field, this fact, but it is true: I was engaged to…or at least planning a wedding with…none other than Adam Brody himself. No love was stronger than ours. Except maybe the love between Seth and Summer, but they’re not real people, so, we win.

Our story: Freshman Year of college my girlfriends and I were all gathered in someone’s dorm room watching the televised wedding of the first ever Bachelorette, Trista marry her hunky poet/firefighter fiance Ryan. It was a fairytale wedding of epic proportions and being the incredibly cool kids that we were, we had a whole night planned around it with snacks and crafts and mocktails and it was a delight. We decided that we wanted to look at wedding dresses & accessories & such online. This was before Style Me Pretty and A Practical Wedding and Once Wed and other big wedding blogs which I’ve only heard about like, in passing conversation, I totally don’t read wedding blogs all day, what?!, so we found ourselves at the mothership of the Wedding Industrial Complex: TheKnot.com. We poked around a bit, but to really get to the good stuff on that site you need to be a registered bride.

Really, what’s a gal to do in this situation but make up a fake engagement?

And so we did. I’ll obviously do anything for a laugh, so I volunteered (probably demanded, let’s be real) to be the bride. Who is your groom, they asked? I had no real life boyfriend in the picture (plus planning a fake wedding with a human I might actually come in contact crossed a bridge too far, even for me), so I picked the current man of my dreams, the Jon Hamm of my College Years: Adam Brody. This was back in the height of the OC Days, before Mischa Barton went off the rails, and Seth Cohen was every awkward girl’s dream boyfriend: nerdy yet gorgeously handsome, hilarious, quick with a joke, sensitive, lover of holiday tradition. Whatta guy. I suppose I thought that saying I was engaged to a fictional character was extra lame, so I selected Adam Brody, real person, to be my Knot.com husband.

Sure why not. (or why KNOT?! BA DUM BUM, God I’m good.)

I filled out a whole profile with our names, addresses, wedding party (Benjamin McKenzie aka Ryan Atwood was obvz the Best Man), and after a long discussion about whether or not it was politically correct, we settled on a wedding date of September 11, 2004.

(Related: Do you think it is politically correct to get married on 9/11? I feel like yes, move forward, positivity, blah blah, but definitely a weird date to be writing on your anniversary cards every year.)

We goofed around on the site for a while before signing out, but TheKnot does not (knot!) forget. During the months between signing up and our One Special Day 9/11/04 I was barraged with an endless stream of emails promoting deals, reminding me of my wedding planning checklist, honeymoon tips, the works. It was funny at first, but after a while I just took to deleting them as soon as they came in. All good jokes must die at some point.

Then a few months later I went home to my mom’s house and she handed me a gigantic manila envelope.

“You got some mail,” she said, with a smirk in her eye.

I opened the envelope and out fell HUNDREDS of pamphlets and flyers and coupons from florists, jewelers, DJs, limo services, travel agencies, and other WIC related vendors.

“Getting married?” she asked, clearly having trouble containing her laughter.

“Yes.” I said. ” To Adam Brody. In a few months. Did I forget to tell you?”

I don’t recall the exact details, but I do believe that at this time she just walked away, shaking her head, probably questioning the Lord Above on just what she did, exactly, to end up with me.

After our “wedding” the emails came to a stop, until September 11, 2005, when they sent me a beautiful note wishing me a Happy First Anniversary and urging me to sign up for TheBump.com, their site dedicated to all things mommy.

I politely declined. A fake wedding with a TV star is already pushing it, but I think registering an imaginary fetus might have just crossed the line a little too far.

And that’s that. My first engagement. I just tried to log back into TheKnot but I can’t remember any of my login info, boo. Probably best NOT to reopen that Pandora’s  Box. Adam and I have been happily married for going on 8 years now!

love

Here is a beautiful candid photo of us taken this summer at our lake house. OH how we laugh!

We’ve had our ups and downs but, as Ben Affleck said, “It is work. But it is the best kind of work, and there’s no one else I’d rather work with.” (AAAND I just typed that from memory, I need to reevaluate how I use my brain cells.) I know it looks like he’s been stepping out with Blair Waldorf lately but do not believe the paparazzi. They are JUST FRIENDS.

The End!

 

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:

lizlemon

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:

rippppppp

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

Lemon Out!

I come to you with heavy heart today, my friends. Tomorrow night marks the end of an era. At exactly 8 PM Eastern Standard Time tomorrow, January 31st, 30 Rock will light up our television screens for the very last time after six glorious seasons of laughter and joy and friendship and ham.

Here’s how I’m coping:

(via)

I’ve had “30 Rock Finale” followed by three frowny faces written on my calendar for months and am celemourning (which is a new word I just made up when you celebrate something sad. Copyright!) by hosting a Liz Lemon Party, and you know what they say:

I’ll be in costume as my fave gal (pictures on Friday, I promise!) and I’ve tried to convince others to come decked out as well. We’ll dine upon Night Cheese, Sabor de Soledad and sandwiches. Someone will shotgun a pizza. White wine will be served for the Lemons among us, whiskey for the Donaghy’s. It is going to be epic…ally nerdy. Just like La Lemon herself.

Much has been written about Liz Lemon as a character – is she a realistic portrayal of a modern woman? Is she a feminist? Is she hot? – but I won’t get into that. For me, Liz Lemon, and by extension her creator Tina Fey, was just great. Plain and simple. Bananas as she was, from the moment Jack Donaghy correctly identified her “type” in the pilot episode, I knew this was my kinda gal:

I had big plans to put together my own lengthy retrospective on 30 Rock and what it means to me and how it has shaped the landscape of the future and women and can we have it all and blergh! But no one cares about that. We just want to laugh!

And so, in lieu of my own tribute, I thought I’d share some of my fave links from around the web that other more industrious writers and editors put together to honor the departure of The Greatest Show Of Our Time. Enjoy!

Vulture’s 30 Rock Glossary 

Vulture’s Illustrated History of Jenna Maroney & Mickey Rourke’s Sex Life 

 

Shit Liz Lemon Says video at NBC.com (image via)

Salon’s List of The Best 30 Rock Episodes

(Do you agree???)

Liz Lemon’s Top 15 Tips for Better Eating via Endless Simmer 

The Best of Jack Donaghy via YouTube

Annnd that should be enough to keep us all busy for the next two days. So, let’s talk! There’s no need for any of us to face this impending loss alone. What are your favorite 30 Rock episodes/moments? Do you think you’ll cry tomorrow? Are you happy Liz is finally adopting? Favorite characters? Do you prefer sandwiches or pizza? CAN WE HAVE IT ALL???

Lemon Out!

Another Awkward Week [1.25.13]

If I were to run for president, which I would most certainly never do, the stress would literally kill me dead, but let’s just say I had it in me to handle all of that pressure and decision making power, the very first bill I would sign up on Capitol Hill would be to enforce a mandatory four day workweek. Life is just 700% better with long weekends.

Speaking of Capitol Hill, do any of you watch the show Scandal? I’ve been meaning to catch up but you know, life, can’t win ’em all. I somehow just found myself watching one episode with absolutely no context or understanding of characters or plot and good GOD, I am hooked. This show is…arousing. How have I been missing this?!

Aaaaand moving on, before I need a cold shower, here’s what else was keeping it awkward this week:

These Guys:

drama-breaking-bad-season-jesse-walter

(via)

Ok not actually awkward in the slightest, I just wanted to share my greatest achievement of 2013 to date: I finally caught up on Breaking Bad! Did I fail to blog on Monday because I was in the midst of an all MLK Day marathon? Maybe. Was it worth it? YEAH BITCH!

This Late Night Snack:

wineandchoco

Wine and chocolate sauce straight from the jar with a fork because that’s what came out of the drawer first and I was too lazy to try again for a spoon. My clean & kind eating plan is going GREAT.

This Belt:

belt

I was pretty proud of this outfit, actually, don’t I look preppy and put together, minus the hair/face? And the way my tucked in shirt kind of gives me a Santa belly? Whatever, I look great. You can’t tell from the photo but the pants are hunter green. So on trend. But I forgot how annoying belts are when deployed for their actual purpose. I wear belts as fashion accessories over sweaters or shirts or what have you but it’s been years since I’ve actually worn one around my hips, through my belt loops. WHAT a disaster. This belt was maybe .0001 inches too big for the loops so every time I had to pee, which was probably 47 times, I drink a lot of water, I had to get the belt out of the loops and it would get stuck in there and I’d have to wrestle it out and then unhook it and untuck my shirt and then retuck and rebelt and reloop and no thank you. Why would anyone ever wear a belt? I just want to wear leggings and Old Navy brand v-neck t-shirts all day every day.

But since I’m forced to dress for the outdoors I wear…

This Sweater:

sweater

Yes, that is my elbow today replete with gigantic holes, pulls and pen stains. But if I scoonch the sleeves up to 3/4 length, ya can’t even tell! The holes have been growing and growing for months and I still won’t throw this out our buy new clothes. Fashion Icon .

This Couple:

PDA

This picture is atrocious so let me paint you a picture. Or rather scan you a diagram I drew on a napkin right then and there so I could share on this here blog:

small bar

Ok! Over the weekend my friend Red and I saw Silver Lining’s Playbook (really cute! But they needed thicker Philly accents. You don’t set a film in Philadelphia and not have the characters say “wooter” at least 6 times, you just don’t.) and then grabbed a few drinks at a nearby watering hole. The bar had these sort of high wooden cubicles with tables in them, which I tried to depict in my amazing diagram above. It sounds weird, but trust me. Because we were just 2 they sat us in a cubicle with two small tables pushed right next to one another. Red and I sat at one side(exhibit A) and no sooner had we ordered our first rounds of wine (of 4, I think…or 5? Yikes) when a couple was seated at the other tiny table in our cube, just inches away from us (that blue blob in the corner is my shoulder) and promptly started full on making out. Like, bumping, grinding, passionately going to TOWN on each other. Every so often they’d pry their lips apart but remain in full snuggle position, rubbing noses, whispering in each other’s ears, nuzzling. It was horrifying. And hilarious. Red and I attempted to continue our conversation while surreptitiously snapping photos of the randy couple, which seems creepy now that I think about it but THEY STARTED IT! This went on for probably an hour and they did not seem embarrassed. Even when the waitress kept coming by to check drink orders, they’d just pull their lips apart, order another drink, resume. Our waitress didn’t even blink an eye! Pervy if ya ask me! Why didn’t we leave? Well: wine.

But SRSLY people. If I wanted to watch two people get that freaky on each other I would have gone home, put on some soft mood lighting, and fired up some Scandal. Holy White House Erotica, this show is bananas. Which is not a sexual euphemism, despite the context clues.

And that’s that! Short post for a short week. What’s everyone up to this weekend? I’m hoping for snow! I just pushed a wrong button on my keyboard and now my font is giant and I’m too lazy to figure out how to fix it. SORRY IT LOOKS LIKE I’M YELLING. EVERYONE HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND!!

 

XO Liz Ho. Now it’s normal again! Technology!