Skip to content →

Category: Social Life

The Sandwich

Blog, I just ate the most delicious sandwich.  It had sour cream, tomato, pepper jack, brie, pastrami, all bunched between a fresh challah dinner roll.  Encroyable.

I knew, even before I took my first bite, that it would be a delicious sandwich.

While I was gathering the materials for the sandwich, I suspected I was going to be making a good sandwich.  But as the pieces started to come together, it became progressively more apparent to me what a treat I was creating for myself.  Soon, my suspicions turned to absolute awareness.  The first bite affirmed all of my previous thoughts.

I realized that everything in my life had been leading up to this moment, with this sandwich, in my hands.

GLORY! I thought, as I chewed the second bite.

I LOVE CHEESE! I mentally declared diving into the third bite.

Tomato. A wise decision.  I congratulated myself on bite number four.

Now. The sandwich is gone.
I don’t really know what to do.

Leave a Comment

This One's For Leo

Blog, we are in troubling times. There is a worldwide recession, the Middle East is a wreck, and my boyfriend doesn’t check you. Ever. But don’t worry blog, there’s hope. The market was inching up today, the Middle East might get better, and Leonardo DiCaprio has declared he’s looking to settle down, so Leo, if you’re reading this, you have a chance with this gal here!

I jest. Leo, even if you’re reading this, I’m not interested. (But really, if you are reading this, I am absolutely interested. You were great in The Departed. And Growing Pains, starring Alan Thicke. Show me that smile again, Leo!)

In all seriousness blog, yesterday I realized that my boyfriend _not_ reading this blog was entirely my fault. I haven’t been marketing it to him adequately. Thus, I am launching an ad campaign, blog. I should have done so earlier. In today’s consumer society, I need much more than sass, feisty rhetoric, and guilt to keep ’em coming back for more. I need to brand; I need to market; I need to really sell how important it is that he reads this blog.

It will be a three pronged attack. First, I will use advertisements. See here. These ads will appear online to him.

Second, I will appeal to emotion through literary references. Here’s what I’ll say, “Do you remember that book you read, the History of Love? Do you remember that part where the young character writes his first story? Then he runs to the girl he loves and asks her to read it. And then, then he says that he waits. He waits for the only person whose opinion matters to read it to tell him what she thinks.” I’ll pause thoughtfully and then ask, “Now do you see why I want you to read my blog?”

He’ll respond, “Yes, I remember that part. Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it meant so much to you. I didn’t know my opinion matters so much to you.” Then he will gaze at me, just as thoughtfully as I am gazing at him, and he will say, “Maybe, maybe you should be a little more self confident.”

I’ll feign outrage. “THAT IS SO INSENSITIVE!”

He will roll his eyes.

I will roll my eyes.

We will laugh. I will move on to prong three.

Prong three is a group effort. I’ll have mutual friends bring it up in conversation. “Hey man, I hear you’re not reading the blog, is everything okay?” “Hey man, what’s this about not reading the blog? What’s up with that?” “Dude, did you see those awesome ads? How could you not read the blog?”

The questions will eventually degenerate from being just being annoying to becoming downright intellectually offensive. “Hey man, I heard you don’t know how to read. Is that true?” “Are you having trouble using the internet? Do you not know how bookmarks work?” When it gets to this point, I am confident he will read you, blog. I WILL HAVE MY WAY!

Bye for now blog! (Bye Leo;)

One Comment

Introspection

Shana tova, blog! When the sun sets today, it will be Rosh Hashanah, and I will begin to engage in intense introspection, not because I’m Jewish, but because I welcome any excuse to engage in intense introspection.

I will hear the sounding of the shofar! I will eat a festive meal! I will probably not spend all day in prayer, because I’m not actually Jewish. Blog, I just like to pick and choose which parts of different religions I like best. One religion I believe I should be more involved in is Hinduism. I read,

“It has been said that Hindus have a holiday for every day of the year, but even that may be an understatement! Exactly how many Hindu festivals are celebrated is not known, but one scholar of Hinduism has listed more than a thousand different Hindu festivals.”

More than a thousand, blog! Christianity has it all wrong.

In other news, blog, it’s Monday, and that means it’s a new week in which things can go terrifically right! There’s so much potential for wonderful things to happen this week!

And now for a little dose of my usual shenanigans. I was showing a gentleman from my office how to get to a building. I pointed in the distance and asked, “Do you see the Chipotle over there?” But I said it in a non-question tone, so that it sounded rhetorical. So it sounded more like I was saying, “You see the Chipotle over there, right? That will be the frame of reference.”

And the gentleman nodded, “Yes.”

And I replied, “Really, you see it? I don’t really see it.” And my implied tone there was, “LIAR! Ha! You are a liar, and I have caught you in your web of lies. You don’t see the Chipotle! No one does! It is hidden by trees!”

He said, admittedly, “Well, no I don’t really see the Chipotle.” And then he paused and said, “Oh wait, yes I do! Behind those trees!”

I said, “Yes! Great!” What I meant by this was, “You see, honesty has made this little encounter more productive.” Then, after the “Great!” I said, “So over to the left, that giant visible building, that’s the building you want to go to.”

He confirmed what I had suspected all along. Sometimes, people say they see or understand something, but that is not always necessarily the case. It’s good to take a step back and make sure you are on the same page. Blog, I’m just a wealth of social knowledge.

Now on a more personal note, blog. I totally love the outfit I’m wearing today. I love it so much, I want to wear it tomorrow. Unfortunately that’s not really appropriate.

Leave a Comment

Plan C

Blog, terrible news, we have to move on to PLAN C.

Plan A was to run in the upcoming 10 miler. I did all I could to execute on plan A: I bought shoes, I thought about running, I felt guilty for not running, the list of my efforts goes on. There’s no need to inundate you with all of my efforts, blog. You have better things to do.

So, anyway, I then changed Plan A, _run_ in the 10 miler, to Plan B, _run/walk/mostly walk_ in the 10 miler. I thought this was more realistic. I would power-walk my way through this ridiculous goal. That way, I will have completed the race, been able to wear my race t-shirt proudly, and been able to participate in conversations about how accomplished I felt for taking part in a 10 mile race.

After trying to run during my lunch break the other day, it occurred to me that I might incur some great physical damage if I actually try to power walk ten miles. Which brings us to Plan C. I will start the race with the awful friends who pressured me, an innocent, unsuspecting, unassuming young woman, into originally signing up. We will run lightly together for the first quarter of a mile, and then I will tell them I’ll catch up, and they should go on. Then, I will go for as long as I can until the safety bus comes around and picks me and the other stragglers up. This is Plan C. I feel if I do Plan C, I can still wear the race t-shirt.

In other news blog, I want to wear overalls. I want to wear overalls so badly, but they’re terrifically out of style. Additionally, because neither housework, nor painting, nor garden work are on my agenda today, there is no purpose to justify my wearing of overalls. It’s really unfortunate, because overalls are very comfortable and can be figure flattering if donned with the appropriate shirt.

Leave a Comment

There's a Fire Within My Soul

Dear Blog,
 
I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!!!!
 
I bought the Mama Mia! soundtrack, and it’s so good – SO GOOD!  It makes me want to belt out all of my deepest feelings about lost and future love in song.  I saw the movie, so I also want to take over a small island and run around wearing light-colored, loose-fitting clothing that emphasizes my wonderful tan and joie de vivre,  due in large part to the fact that I live on an island and sing all day. 
 
Blog, you know what’s even more awesome?  The cd comes with lyrics! So, I can sing along correctly. Sometimes I do not. Sometimes I mumble and stumble through lyrics I don’t know, and that is embarrassing. Have you heard of the National Anthem? “Oh say can you seeeee? By the dawn’s early light/night? What so proudly we mmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmm by the twilight’s mmmmmm mmmmmmm.” 

I know I’m not alone in this.  Other people aren’t singing the words either.
 
The best song on the album is Lay All Your Love On Me.  It’s a duet.  “Don’t go wasting your emotion, lay all your love on me!”  It’s so sweet, romantic, and upbeat. 

In other news blog, I got my first pedicure today.  It was thrilling, and now I am hesitant to wear close-toed shoes, lest I deny the world the sight of my refined toenails.  My feet look divine blog, divine.

Goodnight!

Leave a Comment

From that day on, I wuz runnin'

Great news blog. I now have, in my possession, a giant whiteboard. This whiteboard will be paramount to my ability to brainstorm on a whiteboard. Before, I didn’t have a whiteboard, so there was no whiteboard brainstorming. In fact, all of my brainstorming was on a piece of paper, or in my head, or not happening at all. Things will change dramatically now. Brainstorming, as I know it, will never be the same. I have grand plans to find a whiteboard marker and a whiteboard eraser as well.

In other great news, the comic is making great progress. It’s not funny, but it’s there, and that in itself is remarkable progress.

 

Well blog, it has been a while since I wrote, so I suppose I should update you on the great happenings in my life. The weather has been finicky, with the temperature undulating heavily for the past few weeks. April’s showers continued into May, and while the rain has been great for the grass, it has made reveling in spring growth difficult because I avoid going outside. Additionally, the lack of warm weather has curtailed my shopping for fun summer attire, and that affects you, blog, because shopping adventures form the bulk of my blog content.

I’m also training for a 10 mile run. By “training” I mean I signed up to run 10 miles, and have been thinking about running. I have to buy running shoes first, however. Then, after buying the shoes, I have to make a schedule that dictates how much I must run. I must also amass a bunch of quotations about setting goals and perseverance.

For example:

“Running is a big question mark that’s there each and every day. It asks you, ‘Are you going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today?'”
– Peter Maher, Irish-Canadian Olympian and sub-2:12 marathoner

 

“Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a lion or gazelle – when the sun comes up, you’d better be running.”
– Anonymous

 

“Top results are reached only through pain. But eventually you like this pain. You’ll find the more difficulties you have on the way, the more you will enjoy your success.”
– Juha “the Curel” Vaatainen

 

 

“Sam’s daughter ran three marathon’s last year.”
-My Dad

You see, blog, training for a 10 miler is complicated. It is comprised of complex relationships that intricately work together.

 

After making the schedule and organizing my quotations, I must dedicate half an hour each day to finding excuses to avoid running and going off schedule. These excuses will primarily be inspired by injuries, a dream about getting an injury, or hearing a story about someone who died while running.

The amount of guilt I feel for not running will be inversely proportional to the severity of my concocted excuse.

Power of Excuses

The powerful-ness of the quotations will be directly proportional to the amount of guilt I feel for not running.

Quotations and Not Running Guilt

 

 

 

And lastly, I must factor in peer pressure. Two friends will be running the same 10 miler, and I’ve already told a handful of people I am training for a 10 miler. Luckily, the amount of guilt I feel for not running is not related to peer pressure in any way, or, x=0. See, one of the two friends is my boyfriend, and the running discussion is easy to have with him, because he has the attention span of a dalmation.

Him: Have you been training for the run?

Me: No.

Him: I’m hungry. What do you want to eat?

Him: We should eat before we watch the movie.

Him: The movie starts at 9, so we should go now. Let’s go now!

Him: But first, watch me play this song on Guitar Hero. Wait, no, we should go.

Him: Just one song.

 

The other friend is a female friend who absolutely loves running and has signed up for all sorts of other runs. So, we can safely assume she’s nutty.

 

The handful of people I’ve told probably don’t remember. So, check!

Guilt from Friends

Blog, there’s more. I have more to share with you.


Last night I saw Baby Mama, and it was so funny, blog. And guess what! Tina Fey was wearing a dress that I own! And she’s left handed too! See, blog, I had this whole plan when I met Tina to talk about how we’re both left handed, but I didn’t really know where to go from there. NOW, I can talk to her about how we have the same dress, but that she looks better in it than I do, of
course. Then, maybe she would say, “Well, I work out.”

And I would respond, “Oh me too! I’m training for a 10 miler.”

Leave a Comment

Getting Ready for the Big Game

I have just completed my picks for a 2008 NCAA bracket.

As you may not know, dear blog, I don’t really follow sports, so it would take a considerable amount of arm twisting to get this gal to take an active interest in a professional, physical team activity. It would take only the cleverest of tongues to convince me to participate in a gambling venture related to the movement of a leather ball. “Indoctrinaire extraordinaire” is how I would describe the verbal virtuoso who could talk me into caring about basketball.

Actually, this is how the conversation went:

Indoctrinaire Extraordinaire: Are you entering picks for a bracket? Everyone else is.

Me: Everyone, eh? Absolutely, I am.

Indoctrinaire: I didn’t know you were into basketball.

Me: What? It’s basketball season?

Indoctriniare: Haha, you’re so funny.

Me: Right. I’m such a kidder.

And so it was said, and so it was done – I have joined a NCAA bracket! 

I’m not entirely clear on how the teams are divided up – there’s an East, Midwest, South, and West division, so at first I thought, “I see, Northerner’s do not play basketball. They are too busy…playing hockey?” But then I saw Connecticut and Michigan were on there. However, they’re in the West and South divisions respectively, so my new conclusion is that the people in charge of the NCAA have limited access to maps with compass roses. Or they’re working on a grander scale. So they’re thinking, “Technically Connecticut is West of the United Kingdom, our blessed mother country – God save the Queen.”

Joining this basketball bracket has opened up all sorts of doors I didn’t know existed before. For example, now that I am heavily invested in my teams’s victories, I have social plans to watch these games almost every night! I have added phrases to my daily discourse that would have never been present before, such as, “Well, I can do that, as long as I’m home in time for the game.” It’s important to remain ambiguous about which game – that is key.

I will even be able to throw in sentiment because they’re college teams! I can say things like, “This one is kind of personal for me, because I almost went to that school,” even if I really mean, “I think I saw a booth for that school at a college fair once.”

“I have four facebook friends who went there” will transform into “I know a lot of people who went there, so the game tonight will be intense.”

In other news, blog, the weather has slightly warmed up, so I think I’m going to wear flip flops this evening. If anyone challenges how appropriate flip flops are for today’s temperature, I can say, “Look, I’m not going to be out long anyway, I have to be home in time for the game.”

One Comment

Real Chutzpah

Forgive me blog, for I have sinned. It has been over 24 hours since my last entry.

My New Year’s resolution to lose five pounds has already been re-issued to my Resolution Committee for review. They will take into account my affinity for buffets, Brazilian steakhouses, and greasy foods. Additionally, they will take into account the adversity I face on a daily basis in my struggle against weight gain. I will submit to them the following experience.
Yesterday I was having dinner at Chutzpah, a New York style deli. After dinner, our waiter asked what we would like for dessert. I said, “One piece of your marzipan, please.”

“Well the pieces come really small, they’re sold by the pound,” he informed me.

“Okay that’s perfect. I only want a small piece.” I replied eagerly.

He replied, “One piece is not enough, you’ll want two.”

I replied, smiling angrily, like a crazy person, “No I think one will be good.”

“One is very small,” he held his index finger and thumb close together to explain what small meant. “You’ll want two.”

I could not believe this was happening. I wasn’t up for negotiating!

“Haha, no that size looks perfect, I’ll just have one.” I repeated, laughing, but clearly not amused.

“I’ll put you down for two.” What chutzpah he had!

“No, you’re not my mom. You can’t tell me what I want,” I thought defiantly.

But, “No, I really just want one,” is what I pleaded.

“Ohhhkay,” he said, like my mother does when she thinks I’m making a mistake. I felt so bizarre. The waiter was like a 20 year old male who could have easily been on a football team. He looked nothing like my mother, but he was still trying to overfeed me against my wishes.

And then, to make matters worse, the cake was totally delicious and I _did_ want another piece. However I have some self respect, so when he smugly told me,

“You want another one, don’t you?”

I smugly smiled and responded, through a full mouth, “No, thith waths perfect.” I kept my dignity, blog.

Leave a Comment

If the Shirt Fits

I was reviewing Princeton’s graduate admissions page and saw this clever quip on the side:

Melville. A little heterodox in the matter of clean linen. Said Hawthorne.

-David Markron

I laughed and laughed when I read that. “Nothing like a good ‘ol Hawthorne joke to get me through the day,” is what I always say. Hahahahaha! Good one!

Once, I bought a school t-shirt in the Princeton gift shop, thinking I would apply there. The shirt fit me perfectly, so I knew the school would be a perfect fit for me too. In fact, I was right about to craft a beautiful application essay titled, “If the Shirt Fits,” about why I belong at Princeton. However, before going to the effort of actually writing the thing, I decided to check out the site, maybe pick a graduate school subject for which to apply*. That’s when I found the hilarious quotation above!

*Princeton Dean of Admissions, did you like my sentence? I _almost_ ended it with: “pick a subject to apply for,” but then I remembered it is poor grammar to end a sentence with a preposition, so I restructured the end of the sentence. Impeccable grammar is just one of the myriad fortes I offer your school. I am also a stellar typist, see yesterday’s entry.

Additionally, I have fantastic school spirit. For example, I own a Princeton t-shirt. If accepted into your fine learning establishment, I would wear the t-shirt.

I am also the President and CEO of imawkward.com, a progressive, nonprofit company.

Leave a Comment

How I Stole Christmas

Twas the 24th of December, and in the living room
Were boxes of presents, wrapped beautifully in maroon.

The tree was lit up, full of tinsel and light
And there were glittering ornaments of silver and white.

Everyone was happy; music played in the air.
The merriest of songs were coming from our tape player.

We began opening gifts; I was quite excited to see
What Santa, or my mom, had bought for me.
I unwrapped the ribbon, with thoughtful care,
And peeled off the wrapping tape, so the paper wouldn’t tear.

I pushed off the paper to find a clothing department store box!
I giggled, I smiled, “Clothing from my mom always rocks!”

See I had been away at school, and didn’t have time to shop
Instead of going to the mall we would make midnight food runs to IHOP.

Plus, I needed new clothes, my old ones looked lame
Compared to those of my peers, who dressed less tame.

So I opened the box, and peered inside,
And gasped in horror, for what did I find?

A baby blue velour track suit, the whole matching set –
There were velour pants, a shirt, a jacket, all things I didn’t want to get.

It was hideous, and tacky, and why would she buy it?
I didn’t want to wear it; I didn’t even want to try it!

Velour track suits are for people who feel heavy; was she saying I got fat?
Maybe I gained a couple pounds, but I was fine with that!

I gaped and stared and thought for a while,
And then decided I should fake a pleased smile,

Because my mom was looking at me with a very happy face.
She was hoping I would love it; she expected an embrace.

“I was worried you wouldn’t like it, because it’s different than other clothes you wear,
But I saw it in the store, and I fell in love with the outfit there!
Then I bought it and brought it home for your brother and dad to see,
‘It’s a great outfit! Great color! She’ll love it!’ They reassured me.”

“I love it indeed,” I smiled at my very dear mother.
And then for a split second gave the evil eye to my dumb brother.
He’s my age, he’s young, he should have been aware
That this velour ensemble was not something I could wear.

I pulled him aside later, and gave him a verbal thrashing,
“What were you thinking!? Why did you approve it? I should give you a lashing!”

“What?! I thought it looked nice!” he said in his defense.

“Are you kidding me?! I thought you had taste! You’re making no sense!
It’s VELOUR and it’s baby blue and come on, the shirt has glitter-
Were you mad at me when you approved it? Did something make you bitter?”

“Well if you don’t like it, tell mom so she can return it to the store.
I’m tired of hearing you whine about it; you’re such a bore.”

I glared angrily at my brother, knowing I would take vengeance –
No more Christmas for him! No more cool new presents!

I waited until the summer, when I was home from school,
And said, “Mom and Dad, I’ve been thinking, you know what’d be cool?
If this year for Christmas, we switched things up a tiny bit,
And were together for a fine meal, and then that was it.
No exchange of gifts, presents, or toys for each other.
For example I would get nothing from you and nothing for my brother.
We would focus on the importance of family and being together.
What do you say? Doesn’t that sound lovely, less stressful, and ultimately better?”

I could tell they liked the idea, but they were concerned
“Will your siblings like the idea? It won’t be spurned?”

“Naw they’ll love it! Big Sis will totally agree
And little brother will totally understand, we’ll make him see
That material things are not the things that really matter
It’s bonding, spending time, and eating delicious cake batter.
The holiday season has turned into a consumer celebration
We’re missing out on the feeling of real Christmas elation.”

My parents were delighted, and pleased with how I am so sweet and caring,
And they thought the no presents idea was hip and daring.

And sure enough the following Christmas we did not see
Any giant boxes of presents under our beautiful tree.

Instead we watched a movie after a fine family dinner,
And then we chatted delightfully over dessert, which was truly a winner.

And that velour suit, I kept it and wore it around the house once in a while
Even though it was odd and definitely not my style.
I specifically wore it around my brother to make it very clear
When approving clothes and gifts for me he should be full of fear,
Because if he makes a velour mistake again I will make him pay.

I’ll find another holiday to destroy for him, I’ll find a way.

Leave a Comment