we did it.

We actually have counters under all those dishes. Who knew?

Things that are not gross about our kitchen:
Clean dishes.
Clean stovetop.
Clean counters.
Clean floor.
Pretty pink dish soap that smells like flowers.

dishes.

Sometimes we do our dishes, but most of the time we don't. This doesn't mean that Scott and I are gross, I promise. Well, maybe it means we're kind of gross, but dishes are hard and it's much easier to just not go into the kitchen very often than it is to keep it clean. Honestly, I don't understand how we even have so many dishes to do because we eat out for most meals. Where do they come from? Why are they dirty? How can we go through every single cup in our house? Who even uses plates?

At least we have pretty pink dish soap that smells like flowers.

Things that are gross about our kitchen right now:
The leftover rice pilaf plastered to that green pot.
The wine glasses that will have to soak for days to get the purple stains out.
The empty box of macaroni and cheese with cheese sauce slimed all over it.
The smell of the trash can. Be happy you can't smell via computer.
The mound of towels on the rack.
The sink that is filled to the brim with dishes.
The slime from who-knows-what that covers the dishes in the sink.
The film of flour that covers the floor from that time I made tortillas.
The fruit flies that live there.

I know fruit flies are supposed to be gross, but I like small things and I like them. I named them all Dave, because there are so many it reminded me of that Dr. Seuss story called Too Many Daves and because I like when animals have people names. They might be here because of the leftover smoothie we left in the sink for a week. Or maybe they're here because we didn't take our trash out before we went to Missouri for 5 days. Or maybe they think our kitchen is just a pleasant place to be, in which case, they are very wrong. Our kitchen is gross, but I'm glad someone likes it.

In a bold attempt to be less disgusting, I've been researching ways to get rid of fruit flies and these are the suggestions I came across: 
1) Clean your vegetables at a make shift cleaning station outside of your home. Not going to happen. All we have is a stoop.
2) Do not toss food garbage into waste-paper baskets. Not going to happen. We don't have a garbage disposal.
3) Cover your fruit bowl or store fruit in the refrigerator. This could happen. However, seeing as we eat out all the time and don't actually store fruit at our apartment, it doesn't really apply.
4) Use or discard all overripe fruit. See number 3.
5) Clean opened containers of fruit juice, fermented or vinegar products, ketchup, Saccharin sauce or cooking wine. So you're telling me that leaving that empty bottle of juice on the counter is bad? Hm.
6) Put new soft fruit in a brown bag. See number 3.
7) Don't keep any vegetable or meat scraps in your garbage can inside your home. If this is implying that we should take our trash out more frequently, then it's not going to happen.


Oh well. I think that Dave 1-200 and I are going to be very happy together.

learning.

I have learned many things this week.


I learned that Grammy's old lady exercise class is kind of hard. My fingers kept cramping when we did the "finger piano" exercise and my legs were shaking when we did the side kicks.


I learned what makes oatmeal special. After rehab, Grammy and I came home and Papa had breakfast ready for us. It was oatmeal, which was surprising because Papa hates oatmeal. But apparently it was special oatmeal.
Papa: This is special oatmeal.
Me: Oh yeah? Why is it special?
Papa: Because I made it.
I also learned that the proper way to eat your oatmeal is with strawberries, bananas, milk, and one Sweet 'n Low. Papa's recommendation.


I learned that blue birds can fit 15 meal worms (or mealy worms, according to Grammy) in their mouths at one time. Grammy has blue bird friends and she feeds them every morning during breakfast so she can watch them eat, too. She makes a whistling sound to call them to the feeder and then gives them 15 mealy worms. This morning, the girl blue bird ate all 15 mealy worms in approximately 17 seconds. I like her style.


I learned that Papa is going to give away all the cucumbers in his garden and buy pickles at Wal-Mart instead of making Granny Green's Pickles with them. Granny Green's Pickles are my favorite. And they would be yours, too. I promise. 

"Papa, are you going to make pickles with all those cucumbers?"
"Nope, I'm going to give them away and buy pickles at Wal-Mart."  

I learned that if you stick a bunch of chopsticks and mothballs in your flower planters, it will keep the squirrels out of them. Earlier this spring, Grammy planted her flowers in the backyard, went to plant them in the front yard, and by the time she came back to check on the back ones, a squirrel had dug them all up and scattered them around the porch. So now we use chopsticks and mothballs.


I learned that my mother found a brown recluse spider in her closet. And I don't like it one bit. If I lose a limb, you all know why.


I learned that I'm a really fast typer, according to Tony the Bug Man who is currently spraying our house for brown recluse spiders. He is my best friend.


I learned that there are some overalls in my closet at my parents' house and I will wear them every day. I asked my students if I would be cool if I wore overalls and they said absolutely not. But I think they're wrong. Who wouldn't want a pair of khaki capri overalls? It's okay to be jealous.

Middle School Julie would be so proud.

highs and lows.

High: I took my laundry in this morning. Say goodbye to Julie wearing dirty clothes and hello to Julie wearing 30lbs of freshly-laundered clothes. And I bet lots of you didn't know I was wearing dirty clothes. Ha. 



Low: I think someone in my apartment building has tuberculosis. The window in my room opens up to a small courtyard and every morning, no matter what time I wake up, I can hear a man cough-puking really loudly. The fun thing about courtyards is that they echo, and while it's nice when pleasant sounds are echoing, it's really disturbing when the sounds of cough-puking are echoing. How can someone cough-puke every single hour of every single morning? The only answer to this is tuberculosis.


So these are the steps I think he should take:

1. Go to the doctor/health department immediately.
2. Get some antibiotics.
3. Take them.

On the off chance that he's not infected with TB, I think the same steps should be followed. NYC is filled with diseases and cough-puking is bad.


High: I finished editing my book, thanks to my smart friends. I'm submitting it for publishing within the next month. Don't ask me what that means, because I'm still figuring that out. But it's happening. My grammy sent me a publishing contest and I've been researching steps involved in self-publishing, because word on the street is that self-publishing is the way to go. I'll keep you updated.


Low: I slipped on pigeon poop this morning and almost fell. There was a guy fixing light bulbs in the walkway to my building and I was busy making up stories in my head about how he got electrocuted and could then shoot lightning from his fingers and wasn't watching where I was walking. The poop smeared all over my shoes. I'm definitely going to get a disease. Then Cough-Puker and I will have to band together to beat the odds. We'll have to eat cold SpaghettiO's from the can and picket for a Cough-Puke-Free NYC. And we'll probably have to move to Canada.


High: I'm going to Buffalo this weekend. And that's close to Canada. And I'm going to see Niagara Falls. And swim in Scott's swimming pool. And hang out with Scott's family. And hopefully not wear shoes. And I don't work on Friday.


Low: I'm all by myself in the office. 


High: I got coffee from Starbucks this morning. Whenever I do my laundry I always treat myself to Starbucks on the way to work because laundry is hard.


Low: I got coffee from Starbucks this morning. I'm literally shaking at my desk. So. Much. Caffeine. Good thing no one is in the office with me.


High: Yesterday I got an entire subway car to myself on my way to work. So I spun around on the poles and sang Irish music. For those of you who commute into Manhattan, this is what a private subway car looks like:

It looks like this.

For those of you who love Irish music, this is a song that I like:

the knife diet.

Do you sometimes go to Mexican restaurants and eat so many free chips you have to lie down afterward? 
Do you ever accidentally shovel four packages of Ramen noodles into your mouth in one sitting?
Have you ever sat down to watch a movie and realized that you were absentmindedly eating bucket(s) of cheez-balls? And not the small cans, I'm talking the Sam's Club, economy-sized buckets.


Well, do I have the diet for you! It's called The Knife Diet! Forget those other utensils, and pick up your knives. Sure, the edge my cut your lip a little bit once in a while, but I guarantee that if you stick with the knife diet, the pounds will come pouring off!


Where did I get this genius idea, you might be wondering? Well, sometimes you can only find a plastic knife in your office. And sometimes the only thing you have to eat in your entire house is a chunk of cabbage and Italian dressing. And sometimes you think, "No big deal, I'll just stab my cabbage with my plastic knife and eat it! That will work!" Well, the best part of this diet is that eating with a knife generally doesn't work. It's really hard. And before you can eat too much, you get frustrated and give up! How could you overeat those chips if you have to use a knife to eat them with? You can't! Four packages of Ramen? Not happening with your knife in hand!


I think my love of knives started when I was a child. When my mom was at some volunteer function during dinnertime, we would often eat peas and my dad would let us stick them on our knives with honey and eat them off and we would all chant the poem:

I eat my peas with honey,

I've done it all my life.

It makes the peas taste funny, 

But it keeps them on my knife.

Yummm. Peeeeeasssss. Honeyyyyy.

Speaking of utensils and peas and childhood, I've always thought that it would be a good idea to invent the Knork, the knife-fork. All you have to do is take a fork and give it a knife edge. Kind of like the spork, but sharper. My siblings told me this was a really terrible idea because you would slice your cheek with every bite. That's why you just have to be careful. Everyone knows you have to be careful if you're eating with a Knork! And I also always wished the word "fork" was spelled "4k." And I love peas.

things that i've been doing.

Well, friends, it has been a while. Here are some things that I've been doing.

I've been getting real haircuts. Now, I know what you're thinking, "But, Julie! You're so good at cutting your own hair! I remember that time you cut your own bangs with your kitchen shears in your bathroom and they looked spectacular!" However, apparently they did not. After my haircut, my stylist told me to try and stop cutting my own hair. I told her I'd think about it. I mean, I've been cutting my own hair in the bathroom since I was 3 years old and hiding under the sink. I was just a gem of a child, right parents?

I've been working a lot. A lot, a lot. In fact, I just got home from Jumpstart's annual Scribbles to Novels fundraiser event where Tina Fey was the guest speaker! And Stephen Colbert recorded a video encouraging people to sponsor Jumpstart! Tina loves Jumpstart. Stephen loves Jumpstart. I love Jumpstart and Tina and Stephen. We're practically related. I've also been wrapping up the school year. My students are all leaving me and I'm going to miss them dearly! I mean, at least this week I will. Last week I didn't think I would miss them. Ever. There are only so many times I can define the word "mandatory" for them in one day without wanting to shatter something against the wall. I'm pretty sure I had this conversation with every one of my 70 students:
Julie: See you Tuesday night!
Student: Wait, what?
Julie: Did you read your email?
Student: Um, yes? I think so.
Julie: No you didn't. Open it on your phone immediately. Let me know when you've read it.
Student: (reads email) do we have to go on Tuesday?
Julie: Do you see that word "mandatory?"
Student: Yeah, but do we really have to go?
Julie: Do you know what the word mandatory means? It means yes, you have to go. Mandatory does not mean optional. It means required. As in be there. As in I'll see you on Tuesday night for that mandatory event.
Student: Oh.

Painful, I know. However, this week, they've all come by the office to say goodbye for the summer and I kind of miss them already.

I've been watching this video every day. Miriam and I decided that this is the best way to start our 12 hour workdays. Warning: It might change your life.

 

I've been getting my tax refunds. Sometimes you go through the month and you think, "Wow. Do I even have any money? How am I still able to pay for things?" And then you look at your online banking account and you see that you got your tax refunds and it is a glorious day so you go to TJ Maxx and buy 6 dresses. Making good financial decisions! Don't worry, Papa. I really needed those dresses. This way I only have to do laundry every 3 weeks and I never have to wear pants again! 

I've been dreaming about apartment bunny and looking at cute pictures. Like these little guys:

The best of friends!

And these guys:

Smooooooosh.

And the sleepiest of all bunnies:

Zombie bunnies.

I've been eating tiramisu. Well, tonight I did. I've been eating tiramisu tonight and it was excellent. I only choked on the cinnamon once.

dear bus driver.

Dear New York City Bus Operators,

There is no more room in the back of the bus. I know, you just want everyone to fit, and I want that, too. I've been that girl who is trying to get on the bus, but falls out and has to wait for the next one. I understand. But it just isn't going to happen, so you can save your voice and stop yelling. I promise we moved back as far as we possibly can. We would have even done that if you used your kind words. We're close. We're cozy. By proxy, these strangers have become my new best friends. We often bond about that time ten seconds ago when you slammed on the breaks and I flew two feet down the aisle and landed on that guy with the duffel bag. 

Or about that time you slammed on the breaks and I fell off the back step and that woman had to help me stand up because I was carrying a huge back filled with Green Eggs and Ham books and markers. 

Or that time you slammed on the breaks and I dropped my coffee mug and it rolled to the front of the bus, leaking coffee all over the floor, and that kid had to bring it back to me. 

Or that time you slammed on the breaks and I tripped over that old lady's bag. It was the best of times. 

And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that most of this letter is about me falling, and it is, but that's not my fault or the point of this letter. I mean, it is normally my fault when I fall, like when I trip over my shoes or fall off curbs, but these instances are not my fault. And the point of this letter is that the bus is full. No one else can fit. I'm practically sitting on the girl playing Temple Run in the seat in front of me and I keep stepping on that guy in scrubs.


That's all I have for you. Except I don't think you should yell at that old guy who lost his MetroCard this afternoon. We all have bad days.


Love,


Julie


P.S. In case you're still confused, this bus=full:

This is what it looks like when a bus is full.