Right now it is raining and 60 degrees and our windows are open and I'm sitting on my couch in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I've been waiting for this day for oh so very long. I don't even care that my umbrella is broken and is actually a half-umbrella and I get half-wet every time I go outside. I love fall.
This is my umbrella. But that is not me. I don't think I've ever been this unhappy.
Or Asian.
Right now I'm watching "Battlestar Galactica," or BSG for those of us who watch it, and I'm not embarrassed because it's addicting and amazing. I highly recommend it. Especially if you have a ton of free time, or if you have a hurricane weekend followed by a 3-day weekend. Right now I can barely lift my arms and I almost fell down the stairs because my legs are so sore from doing a cardio kickboxing video from Netflix. It hurts so good.
Right now I'm so tired I could collapse because I woke up at 3am last night and couldn't get back to sleep. But I'm going to make myself stay up until real bedtime so that I can actually sleep tonight. And I'm going to take some melatonin.
Right now I'm wearing my pants inside out. Oops.
Right now I'm finishing off some steak and potatoes. Sarah came to visit me this weekend and we decided that a dinner number three of midnight steaks and garlic mashers would be the greatest idea of all time. And it was. Dinners number one and two were also excellent. Dinner number one started out as a "sushi snack" and quickly progressed to sake bombs, double sushi rolls and dumplings. Because we're classy.
sake bomb-sushi-sake bomb-sushi
sake bomb-sushi-sake bomb-sushi
Right now I'm going to go eat some ice cream and watch another episode of BSG. Because that's what I do every night.
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.
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.
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.
Sometimes when you live in New York City they do construction on the subway on weekends so you spend most of your day trying to figure which subway will get you out of Manhattan. Then you sometimes get on 3 wrong trains in wrong directions and end up standing by yourself on a platform in the 100 degree weather until you ask the subway driver how in the world to get home and in between announcing the next destination tells you to just get on the train and take the next stop.
Sometimes when you live in New York City you have to do laundry at a laundromat. Sometimes the laundromats don't have air conditioning. Then you may sometimes get all the way up the street and to the doors and realize you forgot your detergent so you sometimes have to walk all the way back home in the 100 degree weather to get it. Sometimes you also have no idea how to work the washers and dryers so you stare at other people doing their laundry until you figure it out. And sometimes people might think you're a little creepy, but they smile at you anyway.
Sometimes this happens, too. I don't know what it is, but it happens.
Sometimes when you live in New York City you go to the beach and eat pretzels on Saturday. And sometimes you really want ice cream so you walk to the store in the 100 degree heat to find that a pint of Ben and Jerry's costs $6.75. Sometimes you buy it anyway because some people will do anything for ice cream.
Help: Today I got lost. I decided it was a good idea to take the Metro to Trader Joe’s. It wasn’t. For one, I really wanted to buy ice cream, but I couldn’t because it would have melted before I got home. Then I got lost. First I got on the wrong train and ended up going to Times Square until I asked some girl for help. Then I switched, while carrying my heavy groceries (it was also not a good idea to buy beer. Holy heavy) and had to ask this guy for more help.Then I got off at the wrong Metro stop where I consulted my phone for assistance (there is no cell phone service in the Metro dungeon). Fortunately, I was only about a mile from home so I could give up on public transportation and walk.
Heat: Today I actually ate a real lunch! It is so hot up here in my non-air-conditioned apartment that I literally just lay on the wood floor in my underwear while someone fans me with leaves and feeds me grapes off the vine. And by that I mean I point a fan at myself and feed myself cherries then try to spit the seeds into the trashcan across the room. I have a lot of time on my hands. I was supposed to start my job on Tuesday, but then they had trouble getting my background check put through, so I don’t start officially until Monday. Thus, I’ve been lying on the wood floor in my underwear with a fan and a bowl of cherries. Anyway, today I ate a Trader Joe’s Spring Onion Rice Noodle Bowl; however, in retrospect it was not my brightest lunch idea BECAUSE IT IS 100° OUTSIDE. Note to self: stick to cherries.
Hello: Today I went running in my neighborhood and despite the fact that I almost passed out from heat exhaustion, I realized that I live in probably the most exciting place ever. Seriously. I’m right in the middle of everything. Shopping, grocery stores, Laundromats (my computer just capitalized Laundromats.Am I missing something? I had no idea that was a proper noun! And to think I won the spelling bee in 5th grade. I definitely would have lost if I had gotten that word…a capital L? Really?!), tons and tons of bars and restaurants and coffee shops, fruit markets, bagel shops. And I’m right in the middle of two Metro stops.So, this is your invitation. Come to me. But the heading for this paragraph is “Hello” so I bet you’re wondering where that comes in. Well, while running, this little boy on a stoop (Stoop Boy! Leave your stoop!) yelled hello and asked me if I was in a race. I told him I was racing myself. But that must mean I look fast!
Holla: And finally, an orchestral version of Big Pimpin’ is currently playing on my iTunes. Holla.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about carbs.So what else is new, right? Anyway, my friend Abbey and I have devised an all-encompassing bread question that we are determined to ask of everyone we encounter: if you could only eat one bread product for the rest of your life, what would it be? Here are your options:
A.Loaves
B.Rolls
C.Pastries
D.Bagels
E.Pretzels
F.Flatbreads
I choose bagels. I love bagels with all my little heart and, fortunately for me, I just moved to New York City. And you know what the best part of NYC is? The bagels. Sure, there’s the skyscrapers, the diversity, the opportunities; but I choose bagels. I may or may not just eat them every day. And, since NYC loves bagels, too, I could probably eat at a different bagel shop every day for every meal for years. But, to make things easier, there are 3 bagel shops on the block that I now live. God is good. And you want to hear my other favorite part about bagels? Cream cheese. And by “cream cheese,” I mean that when you order a bagel at a bagel shop, you get to choose from approximately 25 different kinds of cream cheeses, from flavors like fresh berry to roasted artichoke to sundried tomato. The possibilities are endless. Bagels, you are my favorite carbohydrate. Always and forever.
bagel, I will eat you every day.
I thought about ending this post here, but I guess I’ll tell you about the non-bagel part of my life, too. I just signed a lease and moved into my big-girl-grown-up NYC apartment! I live in Astoria, which is a neighborhood in Queens with a friend of a friend from Buffalo, NY. I ride the subway. I go shopping at fruit stands. I do the New York Shuffle. You know, the walk/run that New Yorkers do in their business suit with shoulder pads and their briefcase and cell phone in hand, as they wave down a taxi to get to some very important meeting that determines the future of some very important business. It’s all the rage.
Something very important is about to happen and the shuffle will commence.
Look at all the shuffling! I can hardly contain myself!
Yesterday, I went to the opera with my friend Laura. Then we went to a townie bar to watch the women’s soccer finals and random people talked to me the whole time. So, nothing has changed at all! My life is very much the same; I’m just not in Missouri. That, and the only furniture I have in my apartment is an inflatable mattress.
