Things that I'm clumsy about / at / in doing

I am built like a German milkmaid and yet I bruise like a banana.

I have hips for birthing octuplets and the shoulders of an Olympic swimmer...and yet I make contact w/ the side of a coffee table and am practically hospitalized. practically.

I don't know if I was really clumsy as a kid. It's possible. Most of my memories of my childhood involve watching 'The Little Mermaid' on repeat, then watching 'Beauty & The Beast' on repeat, then watching 'Aladdin' on repeat (remember when Disney movies used to be good?), then talking to myself in a high pitched voice, and coloring (on the piano that one time...mom was super happy) , and changing my clothes a lot (still do that...woo?). I don't have too many vivid memories of hurting myself or spilling or making a general mess of things that I came into contact with.

But actually, now that I'm typing this out...I do remember the summer I learned to bike ride and how I skinned my knees...over and over again. I have a hard time with scabs and now my knees look like this:

And then there was that time in 6th grade where we were walking down to the field to fly paper airplanes for a science experiment and I simply fell on pavement and cut my legs so deeply that I had to go to the nurse. And...huh.

Well, I'm not sturdy...though I am big. And don't go off on me about how I'm not 'fat'. I'm not saying I am. I am just kind of large. Wouldn't you think that someone who's a decent size should be able to exist in the world easily? Door handles aren't too high. The top shelf isn't really 'the top shelf'...it's just a shelf. And yet...here I am...and here we are.

Where are you going?

Things I'm clumsy about /at / in doing:

1) Walking. Is that sidewalk uneven? Oh...it isn't? huh.

2) Walking up stairs. Is a stair missing or something? Oh it's not. Huh.

(Don't know what this has to do with 'falling up stairs' but that's what I typed into google's image search...and this is one of the results I got. hmmm)

3) Walking through doorways. I don't know where my body ends and other things begin...so...I'm not good at evaluating walking through spaces. If a doorway is 5 feet wide I'll still somehow manage to graze the wall and rub myself up against the far left or right of it. Sometimes I get bruises doing this. Sometimes it's painful doing this. All the time it's awkward doing this. Or should I say 'that'?

4) Turning. My body also doesn't navigate corners very well. As you can imagine, t-ball can be overwhelming.

5) Stirring. Pretty much always results in spills.

6) Pouring. Pretty much always results in spills...and arguments if another person is involved.

YOU: WTF!

ME: LOOK. I'M SORRY I SPILLED ON YOU. It wasn't intentional. It will come out. Though, you're kind of being a douche right now so if we could go back in time it would have been on purpose. What's that? Nothing.

(Comment on this picture: What if you are an adult? What then?!)

7) Taking off clothes. My head might be big (ok...it is) and my clothes might have small neck openings (OK...they don't)...but sometimes getting off my shirts is REALLY difficult. And let's not even get into the subject of taking off my pants. Seriously. Let's not.

8) Carrying things. I carry things on a daily basis...and it's never fun or easy. The bags slide off my shoulders and then as I slouch forward to rectify the situation my hair falls in my face and UGH. Then I'm dealing with my hair in my face (priorities people, priorities) and the bag continues to fall. Do other people have this problem? I can't be unique in this. In my wonderful sense of humor, yes...but in difficulties carrying things / hairs in face?

In conclusion, eh. I got nothin'.

Amy Sedaris = New BFF?

I have long been a fame monger and person who chooses acquaintances based on influence. That being said, I don't have any famous friends. Weird, isn't it? I've heard though that the more you want something the more elusive it is to you...so maybe that's why my 'friends' are all 'normal' average Joes and Jorginas.

Well...I should use 'normal' loosely. Anyone who hangs out with me of their own accord (and don't BS me with that 'you kind of FORCED me to hang out with you by sitting outside my apartment and sending me faxes at work with 'want to hang out? circle 'yes' or 'no' on them and calling me obsessively AND sexting me' excuse), has to be a bit off their rocker.

(Is this image glittering for all of you? WHOAA)

Anyway...I don't have any famous friends. I mean, JASON (are you ever going to read this? I'm not sending you the link. You're a smart guy. You should be able to remember the web address since you know my name and that I talk a lot) is kind of a big deal because of his pizza blog and such. And Debbie and Jason (another one) were in the beginning of 'Three Men And A Baby' or was it 'Three Men And A Little Lady'? Kate's a Rabbi, and has been published, and Michelle is all over the internetz (jeje--jk!). Not to mention Melissa who made a 'Free Enes' sign for the Rally to Restore Sanity last weekend and has been blowin' up. I have more friends than that but I can't go on too long (that's what he said?)

Anyway...I don't have any famous friends. Well, at least I didn't until last Thursday.

***

Cassie (!) invited me to go to a book signing of Amy Sedaris the Barnes & Noble in Union Square. I got there a bit early and saved us some seats (4th row---what what). I bought a copy of Amy's last book 'I like You' and started reading (The reason she was at 'Barnes & Noble' was to sign her NEW book 'Simple Times: Crafts For Poor People'...but that's only available in hard cover and I'm not rich...contrary to the pearls I wear and crown that I had surgically stitched to my head)

WHAT. A. FUNNY. BOOK. I got more excited. When Cassie (!) finally showed up (I had to...ok?) I was even more pumped.

Amy began with a demo of crafts from her new book. She was just as funny in person as I had imagined...not to mention her ADORABLE dress. After she demod, and answered some questions, we were allowed up to the signing table, one row at a time, to meet her and get something signed.

We waited patiently and went up to the stage. Cassie (!) was very excited. I was, too. But I was also nervous. What do you say to someone who makes a living by being funny? I fancy myself funny...but like...more situationally...and more if you know me.

Cassie (!) got her book signed, patted her boobs for Amy's approval, and moved on. It was my turn. Amy looked at me and said 'I like your dress!' and then prepared to sign my book. OMIGAH! SHE COMPLIMENTED MY DRESS. I blubbered something about it being from H&M. Then, somehow, the subject of Nicole Kidman's eyebrows came up and I recounted an entry from THIS very BLOG with pictures of Nicole Kidman modeling various eyebrows (none of which looked good. why is she so freaky looking?). Amy looked up from my book (well, really HER book but also mine...since I paid for it) and laughed. OMIGAH DEUX!

Sara was last but not least to have her book signed. Then we exited. AND got interviewed by PBS / PBS.com. Look for us online / on TV.

In conclusion, Amy Sedaris loves me. She likes my clothes (for the record, I wasn't wearing the above AWESOME dress that night...so that is not a pic of the outfit that won me my first celebrity friend). She thinks I'm funny. I'm sure we share similar values, and she's a girl, and I'm a girl...and we both live in New York City.

Reciprocally, I also find Amy funny and like her clothes. I also appreciate her 'art'. I think that we can be friends. I imagine us holding hands and skipping through Central Park. Or maybe sharing laughs over fondue. Or maybe watching re-runs of 'The Real Housewives of New York' together. But how do I make this happen? Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!

NATIONAL SANDWICH DAY

I used to spell sandwich 'sandwhich'...as if I had a choice. The thing is, I did. And I do. Sandwiches are AWESOME. If given some options of foods, or things I love, or inanimate objects I'd like to marry, I'd probably marry a sandwich.

I was talking to Rebecca yesterday (as I am wont to do from time to time). She told me it was national sandwich day. OH. MY. GOD. They really do have days for everything don't they?

Administrative Assistant Day.
National Carry Your Cat To Work Day.
Veterans Day.
International (really?) Talk Like a Pirate Day.

And now, a day to celebrate pieces of bread (good enough on their own if we’re going to be critical) around delicious things. Do any of you know that quote from ‘American Beauty’ that talks about your heart being so full of love that you feel like you could burst from the happiness of it all? Thinking of a day to celebrate sandwiches makes me feel like that.

Things I like about sandwiches 1) Bread. OH GOD. Bread is so good. Have any of you ever done the Atkins diet where you can’t eat carbs? It is so hard. First of all, no bread. Second of all, for the first week, NO CARBS AT ALL. Did you know vegetables have carbs in them?I didn’t either until I tried this diet. The thing is, it worked. The thing is, you gain it all back as soon as you look at any non-Atkins food so…probz not worth it. But anyway, bread is just so great! If you get it in France you can walk around it with it in your hand like a purse or a walking stick. If you get it in the US you can stick it in a little Ziploc bag or toast it and smother it with butter. Light. Fluffy. Yet, Hearty and Filling. BREAD!

2) Mustard. Mustard is something you can put on bread in a sandwich. I really like mustard. I had some mustard yesterday and was looking at the bottle. It's only 4 calories for 1 serving of Mustard. That got me to thinking...how many calories would it be if I ate a whole bottle of it? Should I be sharing this?

3) Dressing. Sometimes, if I don't have mustard, I will moisten (for those of you who like the word and/or are reading this out loud: MOISTEN MOISTEN MOISTEN) my bread of my sandwich (some people call sandwiches 'sangwiches' as a joke. What's that about? Is that funny?)
with salad dressing. Nom nom nom. Salad dressing is so good. OIL + SEASONINGS. I could probably drink it plain. What is my deal?

4) INSIDES. There are so many possibilities when it comes to sandwichinsides (is there a cuter way to say this?). MEAT? (*insert Homer Simpson noise here*) or JELLY (or as I like to call it 'gloppy sugar')? OR PEANUT BUTTER (or as I like to call it 'a way to make my apple less apple-y')? OR CHEESE (or as I like to call it 'why I'm having a hard time finding a mate')? OR ALL OF THOSE THINGS TOGETHER? A meaty, jelly-y, cheesey, peanutbuttery sandwich? OH GOD. please?

(author's note: please don't try to eat this. it's yarn)

5) Toasted. Sometimes, you can have a TOASTED sandwich. Warm, firm (but not too firm) bread...warms the heart, really.

6) Not too filling. Some foods that I like (for example: steak) are really filling. When you have them for a meal, you commit to them. There's no dating, I mean...eating...on the side. The thing is, I really like sides. I like fries. or chips. or carrot sticks. I want my cake and I want to eat it, too. With a sandwich as a main course in a meal, I'm allowed to indulge in side options. I'm allowed to live according to the saying 'variety is the spice of life'. I really like that!

7) Transportable. I like my food on the go, thank you very much.


In conclusion, I hope you ate a sandwich yesterday because...I don't need to spell it out, do I?

Concluding again, I downloaded firefox at my new work computer so I can easily blog now...with pictures. Expect some more entries.

Things I'm looking for...in an apartment.

Well, I never thought this day would come. I imagined myself living with Jamie and Shane forever. In our apartment. I talked to some bankers about a personal loan so that I could, maybe, BUY my apartment (relax, that's a joke. Even though I'm Jewish, I don't like talking to bankers). I imagined the three of us growing old together. Eventually, when they got married, and when I got married (look, it could happen...), I pictured our kids sharing the third bedroom...little Jewish running amok as whatever Jamie and Shane named their kids would sit idly by. Sigh.


But, it's not happening.

I mean, maybe next year after our separate stints, we'll reconvene at our apartment in the ghetto section of Astoria...but probably not. Oh, we're parting amicably...so don't worry about that. I hate them now as much as I hated them when I first moved in (jk jk jk).


AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Anyway, so now I'm looking for a new apartment. I'm sure you're curious so I'll tell you the bla bla bla of it all: movingNovember1.movinginwithLaura(afriendofKristyn'sfromPeaceCorps).stayinginAstoria.



As I peruse Craig's List and put myself on the market...I take stock of where I am and what I'm really looking for...in an apartment (an aside: Did any of you see that 'Oprah' a little while ago where she interviewed the girl who got raped from a Craig's List ad her ex-boyfriend put up? WHAT THE F IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?)

1) Two bedrooms. Yeah, Laura and I aren't gonna share a bedroom.

2) Two EQUAL size bedrooms. AHA! Now it's getting tricky. You thought this was going to be a piece of cake.

3) CLOSETS. Can I get an amen? Closets are apparently a luxury item akin to gold and diamonds when searching for apartments in NYC. My current apartment has...two public closets...and then each room also has a nice-sized closet. Growing up in CT, and going to school at communist AU (with rooms on campus that were ALL the same size and featured a full wall or drawers and closet space), I always had a closet. I thought closets were like air, water, walls, ceilings and floors (read: necessities)…but apparently not.

4) Wood Floors. Yeah…carpeting isn’t necessarily a bad thing…but wood floors are easy to clean and don’t hold stains like carpets (Was someone killed in this room at one point? I don’t get that red color…uh)

5) Windows. If I wanted to feel like I was in prison I would rough someone up and then shoot them. Actually…I might be more of a white collar crime type of girl.

6) NO BROKER’S FEE!!!!!!!! Do other cities besides New York have real estate brokers, and more importantly, real estate broker’s fees? I had an apartment in DC but it was in a building so there weren’t any up front costs…or, actually, maybe there were…but I wasn’t paying for it. UM.

7) LOCATION (location location). I would prefer not to be like…a 15 minute walk from the subway. If you’ve interacted with me in the mornings you understand why. If you’ve heard me bitch about carrying things, then you also understand why. If you’ve read this blog…well…you get where I’m going with this.

8) NO. ROACHES. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!! On the flip side…when people have come to look at my current apartment to see if they’d be interested in renting I don’t tell them about our past roach / mice problems unless they specifically ask. Don’t ask don’t tell (too soon?)

9) Not a billion dollars. A billion minus one dollars, perhaps. Or should I say perhapsly?

LET’S GET THIS BABY UP!

DON'T TREAD ON ME

Dear People Treading On Me / Occupying my Thoughts / Taking up my Dream Space,
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP.

I try, very hard, or maybe I should very hardly, to be a good person. I really do. Please stop laughing! I hold doors for people (if my hands aren't full obvi...if they ARE full how am I supposed to hold a door for someone else? I can barely get through MYSELF).

I smile at people if they look sad / are old / a child.

I am a socially acceptable tipper.

I sort my recycling (unlike Jamie who throws MAGAZINES away and then makes Shane lie for her to our landlady...hehe jk jk. I mean, not jk about that happening...because it did...but mostly jk for calling them out. <3>

I try to be compassionate and listen to what my loved ones tell me...and sympathize with what they're going through. When they tell me via gchat that they don't know what to eat for lunch I am there, reaching through the computer screen, to hold their hands. When my loved ones aren't sure what do with their lives I am there, alongside them, looking at jobs on craig's list and editing resumes (I really DO that, ok?).

And what about moving? I've helped a few of you move into new apartments...even though I bruise like a PEACH and am not good at carrying things (small hands). I reason that I would like a friend who would help me move if I asked them...so I will BE that friend to my friends...I will be the change I wish to see in the world...bla bla etc etc.

Not to mention, the phone calls, and e-mails, and texts, and tweets, and gchat statuses and facebook statuses that I've dedicated to people I love. I LOVE YOU so why shouldn't I share that with everyone? Why not brighten your day if I can in some small way? WHY NOT?

This all being said, I would like to make a small request to people that have been treading on me lately (I would mention you by name but passive aggression is my forte AND I don't want to): STOP IT! GOD! I don't want you to dump on me anymore. I don't want you to accuse me of things I'm not doing. I don't want you to project your guilt on me and try to make me feel bad for things you did. F THAT.


I mean, in addition to the stuff listed above, I engage in some slight douchiness. I can't help it, ok? I am a human being and sometimes I fall off the wagon. BUT, I apologize when I feel I've been wrong and I own up to what I've done. Why can't you, treader-onners, do that, too?

And furthermore, why do you feel the need to bring me down with you? Let me into that Titanic lifeboat! Just because you're sinking doesn't mean I have to! Lest the people who I know who are reading this get all paranoid and think this is JUST about them, it's not.

People who I don't even know mess with me, too. Stealing my seat on the subway. Cutting me in line for lunch. Elbowing me on the street. WHY? What did I ever do to you?

Oh...well...you have a point there. But besides that, what did I do to you? Oh god. I forgot about THAT. SHIT. Well, just leave me alone ok?! GET OUT OF MY HEAD. It's not bad enough that we have less than pleasant encounters but then I steam about what went down. It's like it never ends!


(Did we realize there were three of these movies?)

DON'T TREAD ON ME. I am TRYING my VERY BEST to be GOOD and do WELL and LIVE LA VIDA LOCA. I AM A NICE PERSON. When you sass me and give me crap it makes it harder to rock and be awesome.

Sincerely, Beck E.

P.S. To a certain someone, the fact that you keep creeping into my dreams is unwarranted. I mean, I wouldn't put you there if I had a choice. I believe, therefore, that you are doing some type of witchcraft (and not the cool 'Harry Potter' kind) to haunt me while I try to rest my little head. OK. My head is big. But shutup.

It has recently come to my attention...

...that more people might be reading blog than EVER BEFORE. Kate shared a link of my blog on her facebook, and I've gotten some messages (hi, Patti!)...so I know you're out there. But, I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, YAY more fans! MORE OF YOU. EGO EGO EGO. I AM SO AWESOME! I AM A WINNER!

On the other hand, MORE OF YOU. PRESSURE PRESSURE PRESSURE. I wish my google analytics thingy was actually working...because then I'd be able to track YOU and bask and cry in the glory of all of this.

In addition to this fame (do I have to wear sunglasses when I go out in public now? And a baseball hat? I look really horrible in hats. REALLY. HORRIBLE.), some other things have been going on that maybe you care about. Whoever you ARE.

1) Work. God, it is really intense at this new job. I know I bla bla'd about my job already, but did I mention all the work I'm doing? It's like...I get there and eat breakfast...and then immediately am DOING things. And, like, not only am I doing things, but in the back of my mind I have a list of things I know I need to be doing but I don't know how to do. Doing stuff isn't bad enough, but I have to anticipate not knowing how to do things that I'll have to a) learn how to do and then b) do? WOW. Did I really sign up for this? Work Work Work...but I think I get my first paycheck this week! HOORAYZ!

2) Football! I watched the whole game by myself on Sunday! And we won! Yes, 'we'! Well, ok. I don't want to lie. I watched almost the whole game. Jamie and Shane came home in the middle and...I got distracted. But then, I was right back on the couch! I was! Debbie will tell you! I don't want to jinx anyone...but I mean...if you were me...and say you'd watched two Jets games...and they'd won both of those games...but before those two games they'd been doing pretty badly...I mean...would you maybe start to think you were lucky...and...

I think you get where I'm going here.

3) Margaritas! I need more margaritas in my life! Forget the potential for brain freeze and the hangover that usually ensues the next day. Focus on the good times and the fact that you can say 'ole!' when you pound your empty glass on the table. Actually, if you go to Blockheads like I do, the cups are made of plastic...but I'm just trying to paint a visual image for you. for YOU. ALL OF YOU. GOD HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE?!

4) Dr. Phil. Remember when I used to watch 'Dr. Phil' all the time? And I used to say things like 'Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?'. Yes I did that. It happened. Why would I lie about that? Well, I'm getting back into a little bit. See...they have this special feature on Tuesdays where they're doing a group therapy session with these Housewives...and...none of them know each other...and they have all these random issues...and they're all fighting with each other instead of working on their own issues and...I'm hooked.


5) Work. Sorry. I just can't get over this.

6) CELTIC FEST! Why don't I just move to Bethlehem, already? There's this huge house off Main St. with crazy yellow / green / gold wallpaper (Rebecca and I couldn't decide what it was)...and the rent is pretty cheap...did I mention the ceilings? Anyway, I went down there this past weekend to hang w/ Rebeccakins and the crew and go to the annual Celtic Festival...and it was good times. We wore stickers. We did car bombs. We danced (with high schoolers...don't judge!). We watched 'Daria'. We danced again. We saw men attempt to do the caber toss (they all sucked, didn't they?).


(Please note: beautiful kilt stickers that we're all wearing...I wonder who made those? ahem)

(so much green and plaid!)

(No joke, the band on stage at this time was called 'Enter the Hagis' teehee!)

7) Shit my dad says. So, do any of you read 'Shit my dad says' on twitter? Actually, it might be 'Sh*t my dad says'...so I hope I didn't offend any of YOU (who are you?!) with my bad language. Well, if you don't...you should. It's funny. Here: http://shitmydadsays.tumblr.com/
The guy who started that twitter account, also wrote a book...and I'm reading it for book club this month. If you are able to somehow get a copy of this from the library, and you have some spare time, or take public transportation, or want to practice reading, then I would say it's fine. Otherwise, please don't pay $15.99 for it...esp. because there are TWO typos I've noticed already. TWO typos and I'm not even done with the book!

In conclusion, I'm still being awesome. BYE!

J-E-T-S Jets Jets Jets!

Well, the Jewish new year happened a few weeks ago. As I sat in Temple, I thought about the past year.

It was a big let down, huh? I basically hate everyone that I met. I had nothing but bad times. I have horrible memories that are haunting me now. And I look like crap.

JK!

The opposite of most of those things is true! It WAS a great year and I kind of love everyone that I met and I did lots of fun things and people and...ew. Not people. TMI. But, fun things and went to new places and ate tasty foodz and drank cold beerz and you know, basically lived the life of a rockstar.

But, nevertheless, as I sat in Temple and took hold of my life...I realized there were some things missing. Though I just got my iphone, I have yet to learn how to type on it and really use it properly. I keep calling people by accident. I sent multiple texts instead of one because I hit 'send' before I'm done typing. I take pictures of the floor.

And, what about the lottery? I haven't won that yet ('yet' being the key word here). And what about my other half? No, not a guy. That's stupid. I mean my other half of that black and white cookie I bought? I bought it, put it away, and when I went to take it out the white part (read: the BEST part) of the cookie was gone! WHO ATE IT?!

And, what about sports? Yes. Sports.

If you know me, you're laughing because I'm not a sports person. And if you're Jason, and you're still not reading this (dude, seriously...what gives?!), you might tell a story about how last year when the Patriots were winning a BIG game of football I went into the other room of your apartment and took out a book so that I could read while the game was finishing up (to be fair: a) why did you put the game on if you knew I didn't care? and b) the book was 'Gilead' which is an awesome book. HOW could I have put it down?? how?!). And even if you don't know, and you're not Jason, you're probably still laughing because somehow you found this blog, and you've read some entries, and you know that I'm well versed in kittens and rainbows and reality TV...but not, sports. Though, isn't watching a sports game on TV kind of like watching a reality TV show? Nothing is scripted...

But anyway, as I sat, and reflected on what a great year I had / how I should try to be a better person (what does 'better' really mean, anyway?), I did have a thought or two about sports and how maybe 5771 could be the year that I start giving a shiz.

Flash forward to last weekend (see this is confusing now because we're going forward but we're talking about LAST weekend...just stay focused and you'll follow my story, I promise) where Debbie begged me (yes you did) to come out and watch football with everyone.

'I don't do that'
'You don't do what?', she asked. 'You don't hang out with your friends, and drink beer, and eat wings, and watch football?'.

Well, wait a second. I do all of those things minus the football part. 3 out of 4 isn't bad. But maybe...I could...could I?

'It'll be fun!!!!' Debbie continued to slur (she'd had a few beers...) 'And you can root for the Jets with me!!'
'The Jets?'
'Yeah, The Jets!!!'
'But, aren't The Giants a better team?'

And thus it began. Debbie decided to get into football last year, and since The Giants were coming down from a Superbowl victory, she decided to support the less popular team in town: The Jets. Having been a lifelong Mets fan, Debbie knew a thing or two about supporting a lost cause.

As we smushed into a crowded bar downtown (for my friends who watch 'Jersey Shore', please note that I said 'smushed into' not 'smushed in' a crowded bar downtown. Don't get the wrong impression), Debbie ran the rules of football by me as we watched The Jets play The Patriots. If any of you watched, you recall it was a good game and The Jets, surprisingly, played well and WON! WOW!

I looked around me. There were guys everywhere (WIN in and of itself). There were glasses of beer sloshing around. There were smiles. There was a sense of community. This was something I could get into! And, for the first time, this was something I WANTED to get into.

So as we buckle down for a new football season, this year I will be watching and rooting for THE JETS with Debbie and countless other fans. I will keep you posted on this new development. CAN I actually watch a game without being drunk and having wings shoved in my face? CAN I understand what's happening and retain information about plays and points?

WE. SHALL. SEE.


P.S. YAY Mark Sanchez!