Saturday, August 27, 2011


Some things are happening. And here they are:

I turned 26 this week! That means I'm a real adult. I mean, I have most of the characteristics of a true adult: a salaried job, my own apartment, big city life, a credit card, high heels, and dangling earrings. If only I were more mature. However, to the casual passer-by, I definitely come off as a real adult. I mean, I'm closer to 50 than birth right now.

There was an earthquake for my birthday. It was short so I didn't even have time to crouch under my desk with my hands over my neck like I learned in elementary school. My favorite sister was here for my birthday so she got to experience earthquake world as well! I'm glad we got that special moment to share with each other. I was sitting at my desk in my office, which is in the sub-basement, meaning the dungeon, of our building and Rach was sitting in a chair, living the dream. And then the door started swaying and I thought it was because of the construction they are doing on the floor above us. But it wasn't. It was an earthquake.

There is a hurricane coming to New York City. I don't really know what to do about this. I'm from Missouri. We're supposed to lose power tonight and Scott thinks it may be out for a while. Like 5 days. That's a long time. We have candles and water and food and my grammy sent me all these tips on surviving hurricanes and we're all sipping on Manhattans (because we live in NYC. And we're classy). We're going to fill our bathtub with water so that we can flush the toilet (Scott's a genius, seriously. If I lived alone I would be thirsty, hungry, and my bathroom would smell terrible).
There I am. Right in the pink "Extreme" category. Good times.

I lost my iPhone (this is when I wish I were a little more mature). However, I lose things like it's my job, so I'm actually impressed I made it 4 months before losing it. Unfortunately, I also get lost every time I go anywhere and iPhone was my only lifeline to a GPS. But there is a hurricane coming and all the subways are shut down anyway, so I don't have to attempt to go anywhere. Except the Apple store next week. My BFF Abby told me her new life theory and I've decided to embrace it. And put it in here in my blog with the special "quote" format. Because Abby is my smartest friend:
I've decided that you can do anything if you say "oops" afterward. Then people know you didn't mean it.  -Abby
So, oops. I lost my iPhone. Since I have those other characteristics of an adult, like a salary, I am just going to have to buy another. I can't say it is all bad not having a phone, though. Last night I got to tell this guy at the bar that I literally don't have a phone so no, you cannot have my number.

Friday, August 19, 2011


I want a pet miniature donkey. Like whoa. I had a four day weekend last weekend and I thought it would be an opportune time to head back to Missouri for a visit. My mom got me flowers for my room and they were beautiful.

She loves me. And I love her.
And, sandwiched between Jeff City Night Out and a relaxing time in Owensville with Grammy and Papa, I got to experience the Missouri State Fair. They have wonderful things there. Things like...

Entire stands dedicated to corn dogs. I'm not sure if you remember how much I love corn dogs, but let me just tell you that it is a lot. I would have to say it is my favorite way to eat a hot dog. And my favorite way to eat cornbread. And if you've never had a Missouri State Fair corn dog, you are seriously missing out. And I'm not just saying that because I'm biased toward all things Missouri. I'm saying that because it is true.

Quilts. And who doesn't like a beautiful quilt? No one. One time, I lived with my grandparents. Papa taught me how to take leisurely bike-rides and Grammy taught me how to quilt. And I made a quilt and I entered it into the Gasconade County Fair and I got a blue ribbon and won $12. Big day.

Couples who wear matching outfits. Can you spot them? (It's kind of like Where's Waldo? except there are less stripes and it's insanely easier.) I also like the cutoff t-shirts.

Wooden cutouts where you can stick your face. This is my dad. His name is not Moe. But doesn't he look happy to be at the State Fair!?

And of course, miniature donkeys. Oh Mylanta, it's adorable. Yes, I would ride this little guy around New York. Yes, I would buy him an unlimited subway card so he could ride with me. Yes, I would name him Clancy. Yes, I would make it special cupcakes made with hay and apples and other things that donkeys love.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

things that are gross.

There are some really gross things in New York City.

Take trash day, for example. This actually means the streets smell like rotting death. Literally. Sometimes I exaggerate, but I'm completely serious.  It's so bad that I just throw up constantly when I walk down the streets. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but I really do gag a little. Just think about this: there are probably like 30 people in an apartment building and about 50 apartment buildings on each block. Now, multiply the amount of trash produced by the temperature outside and you get mountains of hot, smelly, gag-worthy trash. Gross.

Then, I went running last night, which was not the gross part. And I was running down this little side road to a sculpture park that overlooks the NYC skyline. Which was also not the gross part. The gross part happened when I was running up the block and could see a middle-aged man shooting a snot rocket right in the middle of the sidewalk right in front of me. Then he just smiled and walked into his house like it was no big deal. I didn't realize that was socially acceptable. I thought that was only reserved for hiking and other activities where people are not in sight. Disgusting. Oh, but it gets grosser. When I was about back to my house, I glanced across the road and saw this guy in scrubs full-out picking his nose at the crosswalk. I've never seen so many grown men playing with their snot in my life. And I hope I never have to see it again. But alas, the subway seems like the haven of grown-up nose pickers. So I fear I'll never escape it.

Speaking of the gross subway, I was riding the subway to work the other day. And I had some iced coffee in a water bottle, not because it's super trendy to drink iced coffee, which it is, but because I like iced coffee. So, I was drinking it, trying to be extra careful not to spill all over myself on the moving train when I dropped my lid. Face down on the subway floor. And then, my only options were to just screw it back on my bottle, carry it until I got to work in 30 minutes, or wipe it on my pants. So I just screwed it back on.

Then, as if this week could get more disgusting, my parents sent me some dishes in the mail, so I didn't have to eat off of the one tupperware bowl that I had for the rest of my life. However, one of the ceramic pans broke in transit, so I had to take a picture of it to send to the shipping company. But, while I was taking the picture, a baby cockroach emerged from the pieces of shattered pottery. I don't like it. Not one bit. That raises our apartment cockroach count to three and apparently, where there are three roaches, there are actually millions. Great. However, my friend Aubrey, told me that there is a little non-cockroach that just looks like a baby cockroach, so here's hoping that's what it was. We'll never know, though because I smashed it with a shard of pottery.

I was going to insert pictures of a baby cockroach and the non-baby-cockroach, but all the Google images really creeped me out. And then I was going to put a picture of a guy picking his nose, but that is just gross. I hate boogers more than any other body excretion. So this post shall remain picture-less. Deal with it.