Great Success!

So after all the worrying, Thanks-Doing was pulled off with hardly a hitch. Food, folks and fun - it was a great day. Everyone seemed to like the new digs...the dining room seats 18...I didn't burn the turkey (or forget about it altogether)...however, I also didn't "prep" it, so I guess I can't take all the credit. As the former veggemite that I am, I took one look at my naked, 31 lb bird and went into a nervous fit of laughter. At 7:00 in the morning. "I'm not sure I can do it," I told H-ette. He wasn't much more help, having just shlepped the turkey into the sink and cut off the plastic from it, he recoiled at the sheer, raw nakedness of the monster bird, and wished me luck. So thank goodness for sis-ette. I woke her up, and within 2 minutes, sleepy eyed and pre-OJ, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work, her arm up to her elbow inside my bird's carcass. It wasn't a pretty sight, but she managed to extract all the important bits, stuff back in other important bits, and then sew that bird back up - but not before separating its skin from it's body and slathering the sucker in an herb butter rub. I'm telling you, TGFS, b/c otherwise we would have been ordering from Boston Market. No joke.


So on our turkey day, we gave thanks for lowering gas prices. We gave thanks for Obama (most of us, at least). We gave thanks for cauliflower soup. We gave thanks for things like goat cheese. And good wine. And coffee spiked with Baileys. But mostly, we gave thanks for each other - b/c we're extremely f-ing lucky to have such a cool family. Happy happy everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving

Who knew?

Who knew Thanksgiving was so much damn work? Fo' real. It's like planning a wedding, but at your own house. With turkey, which you'd never serve at your wedding. And cranberry sauce, which I'm pretty sure you wouldn't serve either. But seriously. It's like a LOT of work. 18 peeps are showing up at my house in a few days expecting to be fed, gotten drunk, and leave sated. 

I'm glad I'm resourceful and smart. B/c otherwise I would have completely forgotten about things like...

• freezer Ziploc bags. For easy clean up, throw it in a Ziploc. When in doubt, throw it a Ziploc.
• Tupperwares, so all my guests can take home some leftovers - but I got small tupperwares, bc they aren't allowed to take home too much...H-ette and I plan on living off the turkey for 3 weeks or so.  
• Napkin rings, b/c everyone needs a ring for their napkin. What would we do without them? They serve such purpose.
  
• Unscented candles. I'll be damned if I don't own 400 candles, and all of them are scented. And no one likes to smell patchouli and jasmine as they're sucking on a turkey bone.
• Extra TP and a few plungers for good measure. 18 people. 15 courses. It's inevitable. Everybody poops.
• Screw top wine. By the 5th bottle, the Rabbit becomes more like a Rubik's cube. Twist tops are much better.
• Celery and apples. B/c apparently you're supposed to stuff the bird's hole with these such things, to release "aromas." Because everyone knows celery has a pretty serious aroma.
• When buying a 31 lb turkey, it's probably a smart thing to ensure you have a pan to fit such a monstrosity. And maybe hire someone to carry it out to the car for you. That sucker's heavy.
• H-ette. Make sure you have one of these around. They are good for numerous things, including but not limited to: plumbing issues, electrical problems, turkey juice leaks (all over the trunk of your big rig), liquor runs, coat check, DJ, host, and pretty much Best in Show. ; )

I kid...family, I can't WAIT for you all to show up at my doorstep in a few short days. I promise it will be a fun day, and somewhere in the midst of it all, we'll give thanks for something, I'm sure. What, I don't know yet. But let's hope it's for something like me not screwing up the meal by forgetting to cook the turkey.

I need a McDetox

McDonalds has a strange hold on me.
Our new apartment is a block away from a McD's
I think the proximity to fried goodness is getting to my brain
I think about it
Romantically
I think about what it would be like to just pop in
Just for fries
Maybe a nugget or two
Most days I can fight the urge, but then I'm flipping through a magazine and there it is
McDonald's ad is on the page
Fries
A hot fudge sundae
So inexpensive, so fast, so filling, so tasty
It's calling to me
And I think, I was good today, I had a salad for lunch, it's ok
But my brain prevails, too many calories, processed meat byproduct
Then the only non-gay guy in my office comes strolling in with a big 'ole sack of greasy McD's lunch
No fair
Tonight I couldn't fight it anymore
Nuggets, sweat & sour sauce, fries
So good
New nuggets, no gross hard texture pieces like the old school nugs
Fries, half crispy, half soggy - perfect proportion of both
Salty
Food coma
Feel ill
Fat bride
Belly hurts
Curled up
on coach
McDonald's why do you hurt me when I love you so

I hate the dentist

I actually like my dentist, she's sweet and all, but I really hate the experience. I just don't understand the tools they use. What's with the pick and the ax. These are sensitive body parts, gums are all gummy, if you hack at them with a sharp pick - it hurts, a lot. And we've made advancements in basically every other medical profession. Why can't they come up with some sort of light laser that blasts the tarter off? So now my mouth hurts, a lot. And it's hard for me to talk, which as you know, is not easy for me.

Thanks-Doing

That's what I think it should be called - because there's so much to f-ing do to get ready for such a shindig. It's unbelievable, really. Here's a brief look into my mind the last couple of days as I run through my mental checklists for next week:

What's the menu going to be....should I stick to the traditional or put my Dorothy Draper stamp on things? I love the idea of hosting. I love the idea of having some special treats that people remember long after they've driven home, half drunk. But what? Papa-in-law-ette is a meat and potatoes kind of guy. Mother-in-law-ette is workin' a crazy diet which she is sticking to her guns on (and for good reason - she's lost a ton of weight...good job, MIL-ette!), H-ette won't eat mushrooms, some one's a vegan...someone is allergic to nuts...oh for crying out loud. This basically leaves me with baby carrots. That's what we're eating.

I don't own a single dining room chair. I have a kick ass dining table that seats like 16, but nowhere for the guestettes to rest their laurels. Oh, and I have a guest whose name is Laurel. She won't have anywhere to sit either. Shit. Rent chairs...don't forget. 

That fancy dining room table that has never been used? I guess I need something to protect the top, like a table pad. Jeez they're expensive. Louis Vuitton Speedy bag...table pad...it's a tough call. Shit. I should protect the table. I guess that means I need a friggin tablecloth. F*$*(@)k. 

I think I'll have a glass of wine to help me through this list...oh, that reminds me. We need alcohol. Lots of it. 14 drunks coming over here for dinner...I better not get all teetotaler on them. Half a case of wine? A bottle of vodka? Better get a few different kinds of liquor. We're gonna need it if all I'm feeding my guests is carrots..

What size turkey does one get for 14 guests? Do I just show up the day before Thanksgiving and get a fresh one from the grocery store? Am I supposed to order the thing? I certainly wouldn't want to mess THAT up...sheesh. Gotta figure that out.

Ette1, I hope you are still planning on joining. I am going to need the moral support, and I'm going to need your kick ass sense of humor to distract people when I mess up all of the above.

Complaint round up

Having a cranky day so lots of stuff is bothering me.

I won’t go into great detail, but here’s a listing:

• What’s with Beyonce calling herself Sasha Fierce?! Isn’t Beyonce a dumb enough name on its own? Also, putting Fierce in your name, automatically makes you not fierce. And why are we allowing her to just have an alter-ego? What does that even mean?

• How about Paris hooking up with her ex Starvos whats-his-face. I was so getting sick of her being in a happy relationship – that’s not paris, paris is a skanky ho that always gets herself in trouble and is good for us to make fun of. I will look forward to her upcoming breakup news.

• The puppies got a bigger bed, but they still just sleep all day.

• Do you ever wonder why we keep hearing about all these legit magazines closing and cutting tons of staff, but titles like “Big Booty Babes” continue to strive? Strange right, who’s subscribing to those?

• I’m having my performance review tomorrow and although I usually always get straight A’s (or the office equivalent) I feel like this time might be different. Through no fault of my own. My stupid clients are mean and stupid, but that’s not my fault, I shouldn’t be penalized.
  

• I'm trying to insure my ring, but no one will cover the thing without a full policy for the apartment, doubling the cost. But I don't want to pay for insurance for my sublet. I have a doorman so nothing is going to be stolen and anyway if someone broke in then my dog would bark them to death. Annoying.
  

For the record

Here are my official "race" results:

Overall place: 5521
Gender place: 2900
Finish time: 50:29
Pace mile: 12:37

There were 5981 total runners, 3239 of them were women.
What that means is that I beat 460 people, 339 of them were women.
So I'm faster than about 121 guys of all ages and sizes and 339 women of all ages and sizes.
My sister beat me by 1 second - bitch.

You may not be impressed with my standings, but I freaking am. I didn't practice at all, and I ate donuts before the race.

I ran my first race today

And by ran, I mean lightly jogged in between extended bouts of moderately quick walking.  Obviously running is not my thing.  My body is built more for sports like say, dancing like Jlo or hula hopping.  And I was so obviously the thing that didn't belong there.  I was surrounded by tight asses in tight running shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.  Also all the runners were basically wearing nothing, essentially tank tops and shorts that barely cover their ass.  I was in eight layers of clothing.  It was 40 freaking degrees with wind gusts that made me stand and cry.  I was with bro-in-law who is the one who made me do this thing along with sisette - for whom this was a regular weekend workout and my bestie who does 4 miles on her off training days.  That's right I said it was just 4 miles and I'm not embarrassed - 4 miles sucks balls.  You know what's better than running for 4 miles - just about anything you can do on a sunday: brunch, a matinee, shopping, relaxing, chillaxing.  So bro-in-law ran backwards in front of me for the first mile to "motivate" me, shouting things like "pick up the pace," "you're slowing down now," "can you breathe?"  Then he got so bored he took off and the ladies stayed behind with me.  At one point they got ahead a bit and I noticed they weren't really running like I was, they were basically bobbing up and down while fast-walking.  They were fake-running for my benefit, my pace was so pathetic they couldn't even run that slow - so they had to pretend.  Giant people were passing me, one guy who had no legs passed me - no joke.  The whole time I was doing it I was thinking to myself, "I hate this, this is stupid, I could stop now, I could stop and feel just fine, I could get in a cab and go home, I could take a bath, and eat cookies, and look at my new ring." But Pants was waiting for me at the finish and the girls were going slow for my benefit so I had to stay in it, and I quietly hated them all for it.  A few times I said, "go ahead and I'll catch up with you guys."  But those bitches knew better, if they went fast, I went home.  So they stayed there like my two skinny little jogging bodyguards.  At about a 1/2 mile left, just as I'm really about to quit this thing, I see bro-in-law heading the wrong way towards us.  He had finished, ate a bagel and had a cup of coffee, probably balanced his checkbook, and then started the race backwards to find us.  Then there was more motivational coaching.  I finally get my ass over the finish line, at just over 50 minutes.  The winner finished in 19.  At the end they are all like, don't you feel good, aren't you proud.  The answer is no, my knees hurt, I'm cold, and running is stupid.  I got home, soaked in a tub, baked cookies and promptly feel asleep on the couch - like you are supposed to do on a Sunday.  I shan't be running again.  

I recommend you elope

When you are planning a wedding, especially a destination wedding, you have to rely on recommendations from strangers. A bride who came before you who loved her photographer, her makeup artist, etc. I connected with one such bride who said her hair stylist was amazing - apparently she does "all the celebrities in puerto rico." I took a look at her site. Below is one of the examples of her work.

Sisette and Ette2, start taking some lessons, because if this is the best of what they offer in PR, then you two are doing my hair!

Are you watching this live puppy feed? It's like crack - without ending up looking like Whitney

Check it out, it's a live feed of puppies.  That's it, it's puppies sleeping.  Puppies licking themselves, puppies shifting position, puppies yawning, puppies cuddling, but mostly puppies sleeping - and it's the cutest freaking thing I've ever seen.  And I can't take my eyes off of them.  

Here's what my day was like today:

9:30 get to work

9:45 enjoy breakfast - cheesy egg sammy

10:15 check out cnn, read personal emails

10:45 read a couple work emails

11:00 watch puppies sleep

12:00 take a work-related phone call

12:03 research wedding venues

12:55 watch puppies

2:30 meeting

3:30 watch puppies, aw one just rolled over 

4:00 research wedding dresses

5:00 watch puppies, ooh one got up

5:45 write work email

6:00 leave for shrink appointment, talk about engagement

A week ago it would have melted my cold, hard heart, but obviously since I am now Mrs. Pants to-be, I'm all about the love and adorable displays of affection.  In fact I can't even rely on my old cynical, miserable, normal crankiness to complain about stuff for the blog.  So sorry to tell you, for a while it's going to be about puppies and rainbows and wedding shit.  And if you don't like it, then you can suck it, cause I'm happy!

Streaming .TV shows by Ustream

If the economy doesn't turn around...

I may have to consider a new job at Hooters. Seriously. I had a bad day today, and when one has a bad day in corporate America, redemption has always been found in the Job Search. You know, logging on at work (just because you are feeling vengeful and daring) to the mediabistro's and careerbuilder.com's of the Internets and seeing just how many opportunities lie elsewhere - personally, it's always made me feel like I have options - and when you have a particularly sucky day, and you feel like you want to "Office Space" your computer as well as your boss, I like to log on and daydream about where I would be more appreciated, and certainly compensated better.

But the economy is in the shitter. And what that means is, when I type in "copywriter" to the search field, I get about 3 lonely job listings - 2 of which are in Pharma industry and who the hell wants to write about pharmaceuticals...I'd rather test them out. (ooh, maybe the copywriter's have to try all the drugs before they write about them...maybe I should reconsider.) Anyway, point is, the posts are basically the three loser jobs no one wants anymore, and they all were posted over 30 days ago, because anyone who's anyone knows that pretty much everyone is in a hiring freeze...so technically, those three jobs are more like ZERO.

So basically, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to remain a slave to home fashion and take shit from people who don't know half as much as I do. I will continue to visit the awful cafe every day, the one that stops serving breakfast and coffee at 9:30am. (um, seriously?? I don't even get to work until then.)

Anyway, if anyone wants to hire me, I'm entertaining all offers. I can make shitty things sound really fabulous, and make boring things sound really really fun. I would also entertain unique job offers, because who am I to discriminate? Ette1 could even hire me as her wedding planner. I'd rock that...so let me know if you're interested...I'm totally worth the high price tag.

Goin' to the Chapel Or shul Or Beachfront Chuppah

It's official - Ette1 is engaged!!!!! In what can only amount to the best weekend ever, Pants proposed to 1 in Union Square, the location of their first meeting (of course, after their first meeting decades ago as little Philly kiddies, but that's for another post). I'll let her do the honors and fill our inquiring readerettes in on the details...the point is the world is a brighter place today, sparkly and such - partially due to the new bling Ette1 is rockin' on her ring finger, and the rest due to the pearly whites she will be flashing from now on with that big smile she just won't be able to rid herself of. It's Ette1's world this week, and we're all just living in it.

Mazel Tov to my favorite couple. No one deserves the happiness quite like you guys do. I can't WAIT for the big day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A Great Miracle Happened Here

It happened

It finally arrived

I can’t believe it

4 full years and 80 days later (minus about 6 months apart)

The clouds parted

And g-d shone down upon me (is shone a word?)

And the angels sang

And someone must have slipped Pants a roofie

Because

He Proposed

I’m ENGAGED

I’m freaking engaged.

The love of my life got down on a knee and asked me to marry him

And he showed me a ring

A bad-ass, big, awesome diamond ring (that makes my fat, stubby fingers look little)

I am so happy

And now, watch out.

If you think you've ever known a "difficult" bride - well you ain't seen nothing yet.

Pants has unleashed my unholy brand of "getting my way" and now it's not just him and me - it's for all of you to deal with as I plan my big day.

Yay!

1958

Watching this captivating video makes me wonder if modern technology has, rather than make our lives easier, made it harder. Everything these days works off some stupid computer or high-tech invention. Cases in point -

1. The Rabbit corkscrew. F-ing thing cost us an arm and a leg to get the "deluxe version" for MIL-ette and PIL-ette when we were in wine country. We came home touting this as the best thing since sliced bread...look, ma! It opens wine with no hands...not so much. Stupid thing is harder to get the cork out of than if I tried to de-cork a wine bottle with my pinky nail. There's something to be said for old fashioned corkscrew.
2. Blackberry. F-ing thing claims to be the smartest smartphone out there, but yet every week, without fail, a day goes by where it just "chooses" at whim to delete my text messages/emails/call log. So just when I am about to prove a point by using such a message as my proof, POOF - it's gone. Not so smart, if you ask me.
3. Cars. My car is great. Don't get me wrong. It's a sleek, fast driving machine that costs me way too much money, but usually gets me from point A to point B and looks damn good doing it. Everything in it though is run on a computer, as most cars these days. Funny, then, how yesterday morning it just "decides" to lock itself in drive - not letting a sister reverse, park, take the damn keys out of the ignition...NOTHING. Seriously. WTF.
   
4. Relationships. Apparently women these days are too opinionated. They should just be subservient and smile, and cook yummy casseroles. Guess that's why so many marriages lasted in the 50's. Guess that's also why so many of those folks hate each other now and sleep in separate bedrooms.
   

Watch this video. It will move you. To tears, possibly.

W O W

today is a good day.

1) my dining room was painted. and when I say it looks polished and glam, it's just the tip of the iceberg. H-ette turned a wall of crappy built-in floor to ceiling, wall to wall bookcases into custom, glossy works of art. (I sort of think H-ette was a Mexican subcontractor in a previous life...maybe that's where his exceptional Spanish slang and cursing comes from.) I can hardly wait to unpack my knicknacks and start shelf-styling - my secret favorite thing to do.

2) it has been confirmed that my tempurpedic mattress did not turn into a smushed piece of foam while hanging out in a storage pod for 4 months. Yesssss.

3) I looked extra cute today. thanx, spanx.

4) I still have 3/4 of my saved, one year old wedding cake, which I will enjoy tonight while catching up on some DVR. Believe it or not, it tastes amazing. Except for the icing, which tastes a little like...well, like frosting that's been frozen for a year. Just not worth the calories.

5) One word, three syllables. O.Ba.Ma. Today it occurred to me that life is going to start looking up again. Such a simple revelation, I know. But so f-ing true. Go us.

We BARAKed it

And the U.S. feels a little bit more like home today.  Good work Americans

The other side of the voting booth

While Ette1 had a hellicious time getting her vote heard, I, on the other hand, would like to share the experience I had. Let's call this little ditty City vs. Suburbs:

5:00. Leave work. Ah, the glorious, consistent life of a copywriter.

5:25 Enter A&P. Glorious, enormous, grocery store of suburbia. Pick up Cheeseburger Hamburger Helper, ground beef and Challah for requested-by-H-Ette White Trash Shabbat dinner (even though it's only Tuesday, we thought a nice Americana dinner would be in order for Election Day, and what's more Americana than some trans fat Hamburger Helper dinner??)

5:45 Stop at new house to see progress by Alejandro the hardworking Mexican and H-ette and Father-in-law-Ette. Yay! Dining room walls looking good. All is well.

6:15 Arrive back in the vicinity of In-law-ettes, where myself and H-ette are registered to vote. Pull into parking spot 5 feet from front door of Clubhouse, where polling will take place. Excitement ensues.

6:16 Walk into clubhouse/polling location. See that place is empty, short of 3 volunteers - 2 old biddies and a middle age man, who are all digging into their pizza dinner. Slight 15 second delay as the three volunteers make eye contact to determine who is going to step it up and take care of us voters - decision is quickly rendered. Man licks fingers to be able to turn pages of his registered voter list. Asks our names, does not ask for ID, finds them within seconds, smiles and tells us to go ahead and vote.

6:18 I close the curtain and BARACK THE VOTE.

6:21 I am home, changing into my comfy clothes, so I can start cooking cheezy Hamburger Helper dinner.

6:23 Pour glass of wine.

6:45 Dinner is served.

7:00 Turn on election coverage, as I chomp on Challah balls. Mmmm.

My vote? Move to the 'burbs, One...life is as easy as pizza pie.

My Voting Diary

Entry from this morning...

I'm standing here in a line that's wrapped around the street, that's merging with another line that is wrapped around the street in the other direction, and as I stand here it becomes increasingly more apparent that my vote doesn't count. All of these UES white people are voting for barak, in fact all of NYC is voting for barak, so I could stand here for one minute or 3 more hours and it won't make a difference in the world. And what's making it worse is that I'm in line with perhaps the most annoying girl in the city who is standing too freaking close and talking too loudly on her cell phone. She's complaining about the line, talking about how "unfair" it is that they put the polling place next to a Dunkin Donuts and how she can't get out of the line to get a donut, and then she goes into her weekend plans. She actually says "yeah we're going to hook up with poo and darby, the two little einsteins, tom and bear." Shut up. And in front of me is the most obnoxious couple, in between kissing ke keeps doing gross things to entertain her, he just squirted coffee between his two front teeth, I almost vomit. Now people are trying to decide which line is which and if there's a difference between them, of course no one knows so now we're all just confused and frustated. Oh lord, I just saw my neighbors from my old apartment, argh I hate them, they never said hi to me. Who does that, who passes someone everyday and doesn't at least give a nod, jerks! I heard everything they did in that place, from screw to breathe basically, which means they heard me and pants, and we're not a quiet duo. So of course they hate me and now its taking al my effort not to look in their direction even though they are inches away. Blech. Oh now some little bald guy is trying to merge the lines, saying this line is for district 68 and this one is for 67 and 62, I'm of course in the wrong line. He informs me I need to move, I inform him that won't be happening, he moves on and I stay. An hour later I vote on a machine built in 1950. But at least I baraked the vote, I hope he appreciates it.

My Tussin

I fell in love with a product this weekend. It's basically my equivalent of what Tussin was to Chris Rock growing up...you remember his skit, talking about how growing up in the ghetto they couldn't afford Robitussin so they instead bought Tussin, which was the solution to everything? Cold? Take some Tussin. Hangover? Take some Tussin. Broke your foot? Tussin. Hungry? Tussin.

Now I don't live in the ghetto...but I am officially "house poor," as they say, which has nothing really to do with my discovery, but whatever. Anyway, my new favorite product is Soft Scrub. Yup. It's exfoliation for your life. It's the best thing ever. And I am officially hooked. Today, Soft Scrub took rust off a refrigerator, 15 years of grime off cabinets, removed paint from surfaces...it's literally the Wonder Product and I've just been informed it's a DuPont invention. (Way to go Pops!)

So. I would ordinarily bitch about a product that did me wrong, or was a waste of $5.49. Instead, I am offering you this advice - go. Go to your local bodega, Stop and Shop, Costco, Target, wherever you shop. Buy this product and clean your life. I bet some of you have nasty kitchens and baths. How do I know? B/c you are reading this blog instead of cleaning your crib, that's how.