everyone else is doing it....

Dirty Fingernails or What the What?!

2010-03-13T00:37:00.003-05:00

i was in san francisco today, in a large group of people, trying to side-step puddles when, suddenly, a homeless man shouted

hey! blondie!

and ruffled my hair as i went passing by.

joke was on him, though. i'm not really blonde.

What's that Smell? Or A Brief Conversation with Disheveled British Guy

2009-08-28T10:20:00.005-04:00

so, my dad called me last night, just to tell me that he's caught up on my blog. yes, this blog, the one i haven't updated for months. he just caught up....

anyway, i suppose i shouldn't say that's the only reason he called. he also called to berate me for failing on my six month goal to produce any substantial writing. what can i say, he's supportive....

so. dad has inspired me to publish the most substantial thing i could think of (or, you know, saph could think of, since she suggested this post), which was this deep, intellectual, and provoking conversation i had recently with disheveled british guy. remember him? well, he's still here, he's still british, and still very much disheveled.

enjoy.

me: hello! how's it going? i hear you got a dog.

dbg: 'ello, erin! yes, yes, i got a dog. on a whim, really, i was a little bit drunk at the time.

me: oh! um...what kind of dog is it?

dbg: it's a puggle.

me: that's so cute! what did you name him?

dbg: (pause) puggle.

me: oh, um, that's....so do you like having a dog?

dbg: yeah, yeah....it turns out, dogs are a lot of work. i have to take care of him. every day. like, feed him and take him out. he's making me more responsible, though, so that's good, i suppose.

me: that's...good....

(pause)

me: ok, well, see ya!

dbg: bye!

deep, right?!

Dumping the Penal System or On the Lam

2009-06-08T15:26:00.004-04:00

dear gloria,

wow, i thought maybe you'd get the hint. i mean, we've been going through this for over a year now, and i keep putting you off. i thought eventually you would realize that i'm not interested, that, in fact "out of the country" is just an excuse to not have to come in and see you.

you're really persistent, and i appreciate that, i do. but, the thing is, we're just so different. you're a signature in black ink telling me to do things i don't want to do, and i'm a person with a job who doesn't have time to go to jamaica to tell you this in person.

i know you really want to see me. frankly, though, i'm very popular, and a lot of people want to see me. this bullying technique you've got going on, running up to big brother and tattling is beneath you.

i know we've had some good times. you've been after me since i moved to this fair borough of queens. and it's not that i don't want to help you out, i do. it's just....the timing is all wrong. i hope you understand. i mean, really, though, i'm no good for you. i'm some sort of racially, age, and gender ambiguous ten-twenty-or possibly forty-something, and i'd just confuse you in the end.

but, you seem intent on making me dump you to your face. i wish it didn't have to come to this, but....well, you leave me no choice, ms. d'amico.

things could've been so different....

Am I Still Alive or Zombie Jesus, is That You?

2009-05-19T10:44:00.003-04:00

many people (three at most) have missed my blogging, and have spent much of the past two months wondering what happened to me, and why for i am not blogging.

some possibilities that they've come up with are:

1. i got really busy and popular and no longer have time for virtual fans (due to so many actual fans).

2. i'm working diligently on my six month goal(s) and didn't want to update the blog until i could speak of victory on this front.

3. i died.

4. i found jesus.

5. i found zombie jesus, and he killed me.

6. i decided to fulfill my dream and become a pirate.

6.5 while pirating, zombie jesus took over my boat and forced me to sing and dance in large group numbers on the deck until i went mad.

7. i took a vow of silence, and took the broad approach of applying that to "computer speak," as we all know i call blogging.

8. i went to the aids walk early to make sure that i didn't miss it, and now that it's over, i'm back.

well, since you asked, it was number 3. i died. thanks for not coming to my funeral. jerk.

Brunch with the Marrieds or Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

2009-03-14T17:12:00.007-04:00

this morning i got up at 5 AM to egg the chickens.

no yolk.

(don't blame me. married one encouraged me, and that's what you get from someone who brags about watching star trek the next generation and is trying to bring back the phrase "what with the"....)

i've decided that now when people ask me about growing up in kansas, i'm going to tell them that instead of tipping cows, we egged chickens. who knows? maybe it'll catch on and kansans will actually decide that egging chickens is a better pastime than drinking alcohol from 44 oz. sonic styrofoam cups in parking lots. of course, there are a lot more sonics, cups and parking lots in kansas, than eggs. at least in topeka.

Approaching the Line or My New Boots Take on a Goal

2009-03-11T10:02:00.003-04:00

we're fast approaching the forced six month goal line, and i am realizing a couple of things.but first, since i never revealed the winning ideas of what my goal would be, let me do that now.

you all regaled me with terrible, terrible ideas, but somehow from the carnage arose a goal that quite suits me. i'm going to complete some sort of written something substantial (of length, not content) by july. as you can see, i'm off to a good start with that thought-out and sensical previous sentence.

anyway, i haven't entirely started actually writing. yet. but i've pondered quietly, pontificated aloud, and otherwise made known to myself and the world at large that i shall somehow complete this goal.

so, this morning, i realized somethings re: goals:

1. i never got my twelve dollars and fifty cents that my brother owes me for his failure to quit smoking a year ago. maybe i should add interest?

2. i have nothing to write about.

you might say, but erin, you blog, so obviously you have *something* to write about. i am hesitant to reveal this, BUT, bigger things are at stake here, so....ready? my blog isn't actually about anything. i know, it's shocking. i'm so good at faking it, but no, aside from MY NEW BOOTS (i wore them today, y'all), i have very little content there. here. whatever, the point is, i've got no ideas. or discipline. or style. or any of the things one needs to complete a substantial piece of whatever i said before. i'm too lazy to scroll up and have a look-see. this sent me into a tailspin of panic. how the hell am i supposed to write something if i don't have anything to say?

well, right before i hit the ocean of disparity and failure with bone-breaking force, i happened upon the parachute of realization three:

3. whenever i've come across tough circumstances, i've always gotten through them. how? well, by accomplishing realization four:

4. i'm really good at bullying other people into doing my bidding.

this is really great news! you see, i can complete a substantial piece of written work without actually writing at all! i'll just make YOU do it. i think the best way to accomplish this is to have you write some words. preferably in some semblance of order or with meaning. i will take the hodge-podge and mold it into something usable. i will then tack my name on it and pass it off as my own.

here, i'll get you started with some content. you could write about:

a. goats (free our goats!)

b. quitting smoking

c. not quitting smoking

d. smoked sausages

e. the economy

f. that time you walked in on jesus wearing a tutu and putting on red lipstick

i don't want you thinking this will be easy for me. i will have to use the full powers of my emotional, mental, and physically abusive abilities in order to get enough pages to accomplish my goal. but, you know, no one ever said it was going to be easy.

so get to work, you slackers.

A New Chapter or The Giving Bear

2009-02-23T21:58:00.008-05:00

it was brought to my attention that i spent so much time thinking of the goats (free our goats!) that i failed to mention the director of photography for my latest film. and while he was a little upset, he graciously decided that what was more important was the fate of those imprisoned goats, and that he need not steal the glory from them.

beautiful.

and to show my appreciation for him and his awesomeness, i present you with this original work, dedicated to that valiant soul:

the giving bear
by erin

once there was a bear....

and he loved a little boy.

and every day the boy would come...

and he would swim with the bear...

and they would catch fish to eat...

and the boy would rest in the bear's soft fur as the shade fell over them.

and the boy loved the bear...

days turned into weeks and years, and eventually the little boy began to grow...

and the bear said,

come boy! come swim with me and catch fish and rest in my fur, and we will be happy.

but the boy said,

i'm too old for that now. what i really want is a girlfriend to make me happy. and a home for a wife. and also some money, and a boat so that i can travel the world.

and so the bear ate the boy for being a shitty little brat.

and the bear was happy.

THE END

Cannibalistic Computer or It's a Miracle! The Movie

2009-02-19T01:28:00.009-05:00

so, i have this really old computer (circa 2003, like whoa) that ate a whole bunch of things off the hard drive eons ago. things like calculator, paint, and spider solitaire (i know, it's really sad and a little cannibalistic....)

anyway, i was on said computer a couple of nights ago, and out of nowhere, it started regurgitating some of these things that disappeared years earlier. it was like a miracle:

one of the things it barfed up was this video i had made in like 2005 while visiting saph. we watched it, and oh. my. god. it was AWESOME.

basically, i'm a cinematographic genius. that's right.

would you like to see it?

you would?

too bad. unfortunately, it stars my lying bastard of an ex-boyfriend, and i don't want to give him any notoriety. also, it mentions my last name several times, and even though becky is trying to make it really easy to internet stalk everyone in her life, i'm at least putting on the appearance that i'm not so findable.

lucky for you, my computer also generously returned my movie maker, so after nabbing one generous backer (thanks, dave!), i was able to produce another fabulous movie that i can show you.

BEHOLD!

i will take your praise and money now. thank you.

still no word on the missing calculator. let me know if you find it. until then, i'm stuck counting on my fingers.

Our Newest Cause or Injustice for All

2009-02-08T15:10:00.005-05:00

so, last night after watching kung fu panda, (a film that i highly recommend--it's poignant, it's witty, it's touching. and i really identified with that panda). barret, adam and i made a shocking discovery.

evidentally, there are literally dozens (dozens!) of goats in jail.

behold!

there was a goat arrested in alabama for possibly damaging a mercedes.

then there was the goat in nigeria who attempted armed robbery, but was stopped by a group of vigilantes.

upon coming across such news, we were all shocked and appalled that such grave injustices are out there in the world. it's just not fair! why are goats being, er, scapegoated for things? it's just too obvious! and tragic!

so, we're on a mission. we are forming a group, called free our goats:

FOG is on a mission to free the goats of the world from their unjust plight.

remember, none of us are free until every goat is free! and you can help. look for us on facebook.

UPDATE: Due to FOG's diligence, we have already scored a win for the goats:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/7607460.stm

FREE OUR GOATS!

Martin Luther King Jr. is my Hero or a Day of Self-Reflection

2009-01-19T15:40:00.005-05:00

i have the day off today, for mlk day, which basically just means that i'm still in my pajamas. but while wandering around the kitchen, talking to the animals, i got to thinking about something mikey said...

mikey: blah, blah, blah holidays about reflection...

ok, i wasn't listening entirely, but the main point (in my recollection) was that it's good to reflect on life and whatnot. so i said to taylor, i said,

taytay, we should probably do some pondering on life. what is it that we want? what should we do to better ourselves and the world around us, preferrably without leaving the apartment since i'm still in my pajamas? what, taylor? stop eating paper and listen to me! this is important!

after much tissue eating and meditation, i finally came up with something that i think is bordering on monumental:

i'm going to quit my job to be able to stay at home and watch ellen.

it may not seem like a lot of thought went into this, but it did! i swear! you see, i was sitting on my couch thinking about changes i want to make in my life when i decided that the best way to start my betterment process is to be well-read. so i went into my bedroom to grab one hundred years of solitude (the book, not the concept).

but before i could begin reading, i discovered that i was thirsty, so i went to get some water from the kitchen.

once there, i noticed some old food that had gone stale, and i decided i should probably do some cleaning of the pantries and whatnot.

while i was going through the fridge, feeling intimidated, the doorbell rang, so i went downstairs to see who was there. it was a package for chris, which i then brought upstairs and put on the coffee table.

i noticed it was snowing and realized the perfect activity for a snowy day would be to read my book.

so i then went back to my room to get my book, and i realized how dark it is in my room. not at all good for the eyes when you're reading. what's perfect for doing in dark rooms, in fact, isn't reading at all, it's napping.

so i went to mara's and chris's room (which we all know is where i go for naps), and was going to lay down, when i realized that they have some channels on their tv.

i turned it on, and flipped through judge shows and family feud before i saw that ellen was on.

and you know what? ellen is super funny. she actually made me laugh out loud, which was just crazy-awesome.

and i realized that laughter is the key to life. i need to be laughing more and talking to animals less.

clearly, the way to make this happen is to quit my job so that i can be at home to watch ellen.

so, basically, mikey has encouraged me to make the world a better place by quitting my job and sitting at home in my pjs. i think it's a noble cause.

oh, and taylor didn't come up with anything. apparently martin luther king, jr. means nothing to her. hmph.

Second Time Around or The Return of an Affair

2009-01-13T11:43:00.004-05:00

debbie reminded me that i have been rude. i mean, can you blame me? i've been ensconced in a new romance, a secret endeavor that was exciting, forbidden, yet strangely comfortable....

i am just now resurfacing for some air.

yes, it's true.

i bought some NEW BOOTS!

i know what you are thinking. how could i betray my old boots like that? how could i think that i can just "replace" them after so many months of servitude and promises to the old boots? why are there no cupcakes here? and other questions!

i know you're a bit distraught. but just listen (by which i mean read):

now, old boots and i had some great times, and i don't want to point fingers or lay blame, but they split at the seams! water was getting in, and i found that behavior a little passive-aggressive. i mean, if you don't want me to wear you anymore, you just have to tell me, boots.

they broke my heart. really, they did. i endorsed the shit out of those boots, and the callously left me, well, calloused and wet. it's awkward!

i would've just left it at that, resigned myself to living a soggy-socked existence till the end of days. i really would've, too, if shoemania hadn't had a 50% off sale on...

MY NEW BOOTS!

that's right, friends! shoemania, sensing my loss and unhappiness came through in the clutch. and that's how i got my new pair:

but i want you to know, i'm going to do it right this time. no more hollow promises NEW BOOTS! and i have an understanding. if they break, they will do so before 12 months are out or after 2 years, and i, in return, won't use them to kick unsuspecting children. i mean, not often, at least.

as an added bonus for MY NEW BOOTS!, i have persuaded not one, not two, but three other people to buy the same kind (different colors, of course) so that my boots will not have to go it alone. i'm not going to be controlling this time. nay, i want MY NEW BOOTS! to experience the world with their little boot friends:

so go, little boots, go!

but be back in time for me to trudge home in you through the snow...

Great Sadness or The End of an Affair

2008-12-19T11:33:00.003-05:00

sad news, all. after over a year of being in love, i mean, really smitten, the affair is over.

i didn't want it to end this way. i mean, i've literally spent hours talking about my love and convincing others of its purity. but now, everything has changed.

you see, i realized the other day that MY NEW BOOTS have a split up the back seam.

just like that. no warning or anything, they just gave up on me, on our relationship, on everything we've poured into this thing over the past year. and now....well, now it's snowing, and i'm at a loss.

i can't spend too much time on this, actually. i'm still mourning, and it's going to take some time for me to trust again.

if you see me, try not to mention it. i'm fairly crushed.

sniffle.

10,000 Hours from Success or The Six Month Goal

2008-11-28T21:13:00.004-05:00

play doh boy has decided that we need six month goals:

this is terrifying because it makes me realize (or brings to the forefront of my mind, i kinda already knew...) that i have no ambition. i really don't care about bettering myself, and this has become even more true now that malcom gladwell:

has turned me onto the fact that i can never be truly successful at anything unless i invest 10,000 hours at it. and even then, i also have to be a genius. a genius, i tell you! this is very discouraging news, as i get bored easily, and i thought the version of trivial pursuit that we owned was the genius V version, which is why it was so hard:

so, yeah...ahem.

anyway, i realize that the point of a goal is to accomplish something that i've been looking to accomplish. but, really, i can't think of anything. and i thought pdb would forget about the whole goal thing and go back to drinking too much and taking cabs when he could easily take the subway, but no. instead, he's forcing everyone who was involved in last year's march madness to now take part in this year's six month hell.

so, you think of something for me, mkay? great. you let me know what you come up with. better yet, just tell matthew. and then do it for me.

That Man was Dead! or A Conversation with Barret

2008-11-25T22:22:00.003-05:00

barret: that man was dead!

me: yeah, i know

barret: how'd you know?

me: because i saw him hunched over in the same position on my way to dinner, with three police officers hanging out near him. they were making small talk about switching shifts with someone.

barret: well, the guy with the cane told me.

me: did he know him?

barret: he said that he used to hang out under the bridge all day drinking. i asked him what he died of, and he said, he spent all day hanging out under the bridge drinking.

me: it's so depressing, isn't it? i mean, one minute you're alive, and then it's all gone. you're left on a bench--

barret: please! don't ruin my first dead guy for me! stop saying stuff!

me: sorry. i'll see you tomorrow. love you.

barret: love.

Get By with a Little Help or Our Advice to You....

2008-11-02T20:00:00.009-05:00

advice column, as defined by wikipedia.com:

An advice column is a column at a magazine or newspaper written by an advice columnist (colloquially known as an agony aunt, or agony uncle if the columnist is a male). The image presented was originally of an older woman providing comforting advice and maternal wisdom, hence the name "aunt".

An advice columnist answers readers' queries on personal problems, in particular giving advice about sexual problems. In many cases, the queries, as well as the answers, have been created in the office, and the agony aunt is actually a team of writers. Marjorie Proops's name appeared (with photo) long after she retired. The nominal writer may be a pseudonym, or in effect a brand name; the accompanying picture may bear little resemblance to the actual author.

Dear Matt and Erin,

My roomates have forbid me from getting a cat. How do i work around them to make my dream of becoming a cat lady a reality?

Dearest Cat Lady-

Dont' be a crazy cat lady. It starts with 1 cat then it continues to multiply until you've become that Crazy Cat Lady down the street that no longer notices the stench of cat piss all over her. Yeah it's best not to venture down that road.

-M

Dear Cat Lady,

I disagree with Matt. You already are crazy. Nobody likes apartments that smell like cat pee. I suggest that you move out of your apartment, move into a box and acquire 15 felines STAT. Then everyone will know you for who you really are. CRAZY.

-E

Dear Matt and Erin,

Hello there, long time reader, first time looking for advice. Me and my husband have a 14 year old daughter Catherine. We live on a farm in Texas with many animals and since Catherine is an only child she loves all of them very much. This is especially true with one of our horses Jeremy. She spends a lot of time in the stables even when all the chores have been completed. Sometimes she falls asleep from working so hard and we find her there the next morning! Anyway, we would like her to make some real friends without taking away her pets and animals. They've been such a source of happiness for her.

Betsy, Dallas

Dearest Betsy in Dallas-

Well first thing, Dallas? Really? Lame. Are you wearing a cowboy hat right now? Yeah, I thought so. Now, I think the best way for you and your child to move past the animals needs to be something monumental. What do I mean? I mean you just need to make one clear and final gesture that being creepy and hanging out in barns is not ok. Thoughts? I have 2 words for you: Glue Factory

-M.

Dear Betsy,

Hm...my partner in advice makes a good point. Dallas? Anyway, all of this talk of horses and a young girl lighting up a cigarette after being out in the barn all night makes me wonder, would your daughter happen to be named for Catherine the Great? Because here's the deal, there is such thing as too MUCH love for a girl, if you no what i mean....no? Fine. Just buy the girl a vibrator and get on with life. I want some m&ms.

-E

Dear Erin and Matt,

i'm young, single and living in the BIG city. I'm interested in dating but can't look/talk/touch people that I'm really interested in. Do you have any suggestions for how I can a) get over that and b) snag a hot date?

Dear Young and Single,

First, I find that the biggest inhibitor when it comes to meeting people is common sense. Maybe you are self-conscious because you are ugly. Or maybe you are really good at reading people's expressions and you know that they find you to be--to put it delicately--awful, overbearing, and

unintelligent. So, you don't approach people you might have a sexual interest in because you can tell that you will be rejected by them. never you worry, gentle reader! I have a solution: alcohol. might, mighty alcohol! Alcohol not only brings your inhibitions crashing down, but it also makes people who are not so attractive more attractive. So even if you don't get your claws into that hot guy you're eying, you can certainly sink them into his dowdy, sad best friend! Either way, the drink is the way to go. or drugs, but they have to be hard drugs. once you've brought someone home with you, they are practically your territory forever, so you can make them be your hot date at any time from there on out.

-E

Dear Young, Single

Ok let's do A first. You just get over it- it's that simple. Now making sure you snag a hot date becomes a bit more tricky. Well first what you need to do is buy a handkerchief and some nail polish remover. Now what you want to do is put a mask over your head (given that today is Halloween this won't be awkward) and go and hang outside the Ford Modeling Agency. Put some polish remover into the handkerchief and wait. Once you see a hottie put the 'hankie' over his mouth until he goes to 'sleep'. Now, he's yours! This is very easy. I do it all the time. The cops will understand- just tell them your situation and that all you wanted was to get laid. But if you don't feel comfortable doing this getting drunk is probably your next best bet- cause yeah, you're probably ugly.

-M

Dear Matt and Erin,

I have been married for several years now, but sometime over the last year I contracted a case of herpes. My wife doesn't show any signs and insists that I contracted it some other way. I know my wife is faithful, in fact, we've talked about it over the course of our marriage. Plus, it hasn't been brought up since she returned from a cruise with her college friends last Spring. What other ways could this have happened to me?

Thanks,

A bit sore in Atlanta

Dear Crabby (oh, I mean, a bit sore in Atlanta)

Have you ever seen the movie Overboard? Well I suggest you watch it, it's an epic blockbusterfrom 1987. Goldie Hawn does wonders. Enough about the best film in our generations history and onto your problem. Now I can understand how this might be puzzling for you. I awkwardly enough have had a little experience in this arena. I too once went on a cruise called the 'Celebrity Haaaay' cruise line and found a pool boy named Julio. He was a Brazilian man cleaning the pool in a green gstring. Anywho, I digress. What I'm basically trying to say is your wife is a whore and she slept most likely the pool boy. That or you go to a gym with a bunch of skanks and they don't wash the towels properly.

Glad I could help.

-M.

Dear Sore-y in Atlanta,

Have you ever considered that maybe you are the whore? I mean, I don't want to point fingers or anything, but since you know your wife is faithful, it's probably YOU who is cheating. This makes the most sense, and since you are probably exposing your dear, sweet wife to your infected genitals, you should consider lobbing off the offending unit so as not to put your wonderful, wonderful, faithful wife into harms way.

-E

Dear Matt and Erin,

Do you ever forget where your nose is on your face? I do. What can I do to remedy this situation?

Dear Nose-body-

Easy. Solution: http://www.orientaltrading.com/ui/browse/processRequest.do?demandPrefix=12&sku=14/329&mode=Searching&erec=10&D=clown+costume&cm_mmc=google-_-otc+sendtec+apparel-_-clown+costume-_-clown+wigs&Ntt=clown+costume&Ntk=all&Dx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&Ntx=mode%2bmatchallpartial&searchTerm=clown+costume&N=0&BP=8917&requestURI=processProductsCatalog&Source=Google&sd=Light-Up+Red+Nose

Dear Forgetful,

Becky, is that you? I mean, you were talking about not being able to find your nose yesterday, so I just thought....anyway, no. No one ever forgets where their nose is but you. Use a mirror. Then you will be able to see where to put your Zicam swabs. Unless you are a vampire and can't see your reflection, in which case, Zicam won't help you much anyway.

-E

Volunteering or A Sight for Sore Eyes

2008-10-29T22:33:00.001-04:00

mayhaps you recall awhile back when i kept signing up to volunteer and then ditched out at the last minute. my reasoning was that this way, i can still get the acclaim from people around me:

oh erin! you're SO great! you sign up to volunteer!

without actually having to be around people in need. not that i have really obvious commitment issues or anything, because i TOTALLY don't...ahem.

anyway, this week, i decided, what the hell? i'll go, i'll go. i'll go. i'll go. and i did. well, i went once, not four times. and i was a little bit late getting there. but that's not the point!

the point is something like this: so i went to do this project i sometimes do where i help people with severely low or no vision do art projects. basically, i'm their eyes in whatever capacity that means for the person i happen to be working with. (deal with the preposition there, dad. i'm exerting my independence). i like this program because i get to play with ribbons and paint, and if things end up looking a little crappy, no one's the wiser. everyone wins!

but this week, it became abundantly clear that i should NOT, in fact, be volunteering, that, in fact, tis better for me to drop out before actually appearing at the volunteer site.

turns out, i steal.

from the blind.

this is actually 100% true, but in my defense, i NEEDED that wire in order to complete my halloween costume, and what with broomball games* and hamburgers all this week, i didn't know when i would fit in a trip to buy the wire. also i kept forgetting. and i'm lazy.

but if it makes everyone feel better, i feel slightly bad about stealing from the blind. i would put it somewhere on the feeling bad spectrum between kicking kittens and not telling someone his headlights are still on:

pretty low on the continuum, really, but just in case, and since i just finished repenting, i thought i'd get it out there.

really, i don't want there to be any secrets between us....thanks for understanding. you're a doll.

*misleading. no brooms were actually used in the playing of this game.

My Body's Aching and My Time is at Hand or Free Fallin'

2008-10-23T16:18:00.003-04:00

last night, mikey made me go to a total body workout class where a guy who looked like this:

made me feel like this:

today, i am sore. my body aches, and i know more than ever that my body exists because i can feel everything that it's doing, and not in a good way.

so, when i FELL in front of disheveled british guy (and we're kind of dressed alike again):

it was painful in multiple ways....

i mean, can you still be twins with someone once you've fallen on your ass in front of them?

did i jar our twinness out of our systems by falling?

did i really just do the splits?!

can i do them again?

all in all, it's been a horrible day. i hurt. so much. and i blame mikey....

The Haphazard Journey or Why are You Here?

2008-10-22T22:38:00.007-04:00

so, a couple of weeks ago (who's counting?) this guy shows up at the office. not a big deal, and i wouldn't normally notice, as there are often people that i've never seen before floating about (also i may have a touch of the alzheimer's), but this guy was kinda comical.

he was all...flustered and...expressive and didn't seem to know where he was going. in short, he looked exactly like this photo i took of him:

a couple of days later, i noticed the same fellow wandering the halls aimlessly. i started to wonder if he actually worked with me or if he somehow found his way into the building and got lost. like in that book about the mall except that i don't actually remember what that book is about:

anyway, long story short(ish), he spoke and turns out he has an accent. thus was born the nickname disheveled british guy.* (does it count as a nickname when you don't know a person's actual name?)

so, i saw disheveled british guy yesterday, and we were dressed alike. no, really, it was like the day becky and i accidentally dressed to match back at the old job:

it was so crazy, and we laughed heartily about it.

ha ha ha!

then TODAY, we were dressed kind of alike AGAIN:

it was SO strange, and i think that disheveled british guy and i might actually be twins. it's strange to finally meet your twin after all of these years. i really feel like lily tomlin and bette midler when they meet themselves in big business:

i wonder what he's going to wear tomorrow....

*disheveled british guy might actually be australian.

**i'm not the only person who has noticed disheveled british guy. there may even be a plot to turn him into sheveled japanese girl just to mix things up. but perhaps i've said too much already....

Burlap Sacks or Why No One Will Ever Love Me (Ever)

2008-10-06T16:23:00.008-04:00

so, jeff, a friend of mine, recently reminded me that he is taller, more lithe and generally more attractive than me. he did it in the most back-handed way, which was to basically tell me that he is so tall, it makes things difficult for him.

like the scene in bambi where he's trying to ice skate:

but you see how cute bambi is?

then jeff goes on to tell me that it's probably easy for me to skate and what not since i'm so short and squat. you know, all of that low center of gravity crap that is basically telling me that i'm like a lumpy sack of potatoes:

you think that this would be enough. i mean, i'm already crying (you want to point out how puffy my eyes get when i'm in TEARS, jeff??) and everything. but no. he goes ON to say :

sorry. if it makes you feel any better most shirts fit me like drapes.

hm...nope. doesn't make me feel better. i struggled long and hard to get into my t-shirt this morning since my head is too big, my neck too fat and my body all lumpy, so the fact that no one makes clothing to fit your skinny-ass frame doesn't actually make me feel better.

what does? the prospect of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream and hibernating through the winter:

(okay, so this isn't ENTIRELY me, but no one creepily takes pictures of me while i'm asleep. at least, not to my knowledge....)

anyway, thanks jeff. no, no, really. i like sleeping ALONE FOREVER since no one will ever love me....

sniffle.

PROOF!

First Day of My Life or A Conversation with Matthew

2008-09-29T16:40:00.010-04:00

My dearest Erin-

I have drafted this note to you in order to tell you that I'm quitting my life and moving to Hogwarts. I'm tired of my boring life that involves me moving papers around, shipping things to people, socializing with people I dont really care for, and drinking. Well, let's hope Hogwarts has some great booze, otherwise I'm not going. Now, I know what you're thinking! This is why I decided to email you and inform you of this decision. Yes! A million times YES! You are MORE than welcome to join me on this adventure. In fact I hope you do, for that train ride looks scary and I don't want to do it alone. Think of it you + me + magic!

Now, comes the part where we have to decide which type of wizards' we want to be. I am shedding this life and with it, my personality (why are you applauding?). So I'm up for suggestions on what type of person to be in the future. All I know is that I don't want to be the red headed one. For I do not like red heads. Except the one from Will and Grace, she's pretty. Enough! That was our old life, no more referencing reality tv shows, the friends we associated with, and a benefit to the both us: our past sexual escapades!

Dear Play Doh Boy,
I recognize your desire to get away from it all (especially the red
heads of the world), but really, do you think this is the best
solution? Hogwarts is a boarding school, so I'm sure there's more
cocaine than alcohol, and I know you don't like to be away from
absolut for too long.

Besides, I've seen the movies, and there only seems to be one or two

minorities (although the way Hermione's hair is, she's definitely got
some coffee in her milk), and now that you live in Harlem, methinks
you'll miss the colorful palette of humans and Nikes alike.

Alas, if you're set on going to Hogwarts, I'll of course go with you.
We'll join the Slytherins, and I shall shed my sunshiny demeanor and
torture people by feeding on their insecurities and making them cry
themselves to sleep at night. It'll be just like high school all over
again. I shall call you Mr. Biggems and you shall wear an eye patch.

Of course, there is still time to reconsider. Maybe instead, we should

move to Chicago and be on Dance TV with Sarah Jessica Parker....

Love,
Erin

Erin-

As I do in life quite often I have changed my mind. Instead I think you and I shall become reality tv stars. This way you get to be what you've always wanted to be: famous for no reason and I will get laaaaaid.

This way I can have cocaine AND alcohol for starters. You know I can't live without my vices. Also, you're right, a uniform everyday? I'd go mad (Slytherin mad). I definitely need a place where I can express my freedom and individuality with mass produced Nike's!

Now as far as our shedding the old identities and obtaining new ones this is perfect for reality tv. Not only will the edit dept. decide what kind of people we should be I've put some thought into it also. You can be the 'black woman who is bitter at the world for opressing her on so many different levels' and I'll be the 'Naive gay boy who doesn't understand why race is such a big deal, yet constantly mad at the world for thinking he is the typical gay (said with a lisp)' However we find common ground in Dance Dance Revolution. End scene.

Love,

Matthew

PDB-

The only problem is, I'm Blackish, not Black. They'll want that
"attitude" thing that Robert Townsend describes so well in his
masterpiece "Hollywood Shuffle,"

and we all know that deep down, I'm white, sadly. But that's what

comes of growing up in Kansas. Wait! That's it! Our reality show

shall be called Growing Up Kansan, and we'll watch as two Kansans

(us) try to make it in the big city. That way, we don't actually have

to go to Kansas, and we'll still get to be on TV. And maybe, just

maybe, there will be cookies....

Sincerely,
Erin

Kansan Erin (for this is what we shall refer to one another during the show-no it's not awkward)-

I'm afriad, if there aren't cookies, I wont be doing anything! Now, I did have this plan to make you 'blacker' and it was going to be a lot of fun (since it wont be happening I wont dangle all the fun in front of you then take it away but it did involve a lot of kentucky fried chicken and possibly a rental of a hummer with rims)

This is going to work! Now, do we know anyone in the entertainment, show producing, making random people famous arena? No. This could possibly be a problem. However, at my job I've learned to be a 'solution thinking' individual. I say we sleep with as many people as we possibly can and then we'll eventually sleep with someone who can help us. This process can also include cookies. Just fyi.

Kansan Matthew

Kansan Matthew,

This sounds like the best plan I've heard all day. Now go. Go sleep

around! But careful not to get crumbs in the bed.

Love,

Kansan Erin

G Train or That's the Spot

2008-09-02T15:05:00.007-04:00

so, even though i try to avoid it as much as possible, i went to brooklyn this weekend. going to brooklyn wasn't such a big deal this time, as i was going from manhattan, rather than queens. the hipsters and trendy, wealthy young families didn't notice as i slipped onto the train and snuck my way into fort green. so first crisis averted.

it wasn't until i was on the way back out that the great train debate began. do i take the a train back through manhattan and add an additional hour and a half to my journey? do i seek out the elusive g train and try for a straight shot into queens?

for those of you non-new yorkers who may not know, the g train goes back and forth between queens and brooklyn, effectively by-passing manhattan. the good thing about it is that it makes for a shorter journey. the bad thing about it is that this is purely theoretical.

since the g train doesn't go into manhattan, no one (e.g. manhattanites) cares about it, and so it only runs when, and strangely, where it feels like it. in fact, freud wrote extensively on how it doesn't even exist.

but the g train was actually discovered by whipple, and if you doubt its existence, you may just not be looking hard enough.

finding a g train station is the first hurdle in trying to actually take this train. it's kind of like in harry potter how the platform is hidden from site. only for the g train, it actually moves. so just because you may have caught a g train in one location previously in your life, it in no way guarantees that you will catch it there again. in fact, spotting a g train in the first place is likened to one of the most prodigious and unbelievable experiences in life:

but say you get beyond that first hurdle and you ACTUALLY discover one of these stations. then say that the train ACTUALLY comes to said station and ACTUALLY stops to pick you up. you may think that you're in the clear, but let me tell you, you aren't.

see, just because you get on the g train, it doesn't mean it's going to take you where you want to go. it doesn't even mean it's going to take you where it's supposed to go. no, seriously look:

note the dotted line. it sometimes goes to those places, and sometimes doesn't. and not on any schedule that i can figure out.

anyway, luck was with me this weekend, and the g train picked me up and dropped me in a place that was close enough for me to actually find my way home. and while that was nice, i'm in no way willing to endorse this train. i mean, i'm not even sure that it exists sometimes.

but for now, glide on the g train. oo yeah, ee yeah oo yeah. yes it's the g train. g train, holy roller....

What's My Name or Erin Squared

2008-08-29T10:16:00.004-04:00

so, i currently have a house guest. this is not anything unusual, as i often have a house guest (not to be confused with the house boys of annie's blog posts...), but this particular house guest poses some problems.

see, her name is erin. for those of you who haven't realized this yet, my name is ALSO erin (although, to be clear, i'm older [and wiser], so i was erin first), so when people ask what i'm doing, and i say i'm going home to hang out with erin, they think that i've turned into one of those people who talks about themselves in third person. then they look at me with a mixture of contempt and pity, slowly shake their heads and walk away. and erin doesn't like that*!

if i CAN manage to get through the awkward confusion of the fact that our names are the same, but that i'm not, in fact, talking about myself, then arises a second problem. people want to know how i know erin. so, i tell them, truthfully, that i know her from haiti. so they think she's haitian, which i'm pretty sure she's not:

not that there aren't whitey-magee haitians. i just know for a fact that erin is from colorado:

it's just i don't know her from there, i know her from haiti, so confusion abounds.

unfortunately, our whole friendship has been peppered with such problems. there was a whole debate over who should be erin 1 and who should be erin 2 while we were in haiti. see, she was there first, so erin 1 would make sense, but since i'm older, i should really be erin 1. see how boring haiti is? we were forced to discuss these things at length.

but, i should get used to it. while she won't be on my couch forever, erin will be in new york to go to grad school with former first children:

so people are going to think that erin is speaking in third person all of the time when really she is going to hang out with erin.

conclusion? to be honest, i don't even know what happened up there....

*erin 2, alias erin 1, alias, haiti erin, alias, girl on my couch could not be reached to verify her dislike of speaking in third person, but erin 1, alias erin 2, alias me, for sure doesn't like it. she wishes that she could've reached the formerly mentioned erin so as to make the joke work on multiple levels. alas, things didn't work out. now erin is sad. what?

Animal Farm or Here Kitty, Kitty Kitty

2008-08-12T13:53:00.009-04:00

a lot of thoughts went (very rapidly- i AM add...) through my head as i was thinking about what write today. i mean, it's definitely time. you've gone too long without having to read (er, i mean GETTING to read) my deepest most inner thoughts.

so.

first i thought i'd tell you all the tragedy of how i'm dying. but i thought that would bring you too much joy:

then mara fowarded me an email that she wrote to kristen and helen eons ago, and it reminded me that i used to write funny emails, too. i was then going to dedicate a whole blog to reposting old emails that a lot of you already had to suffer through once. i mean, really, my mass emails were like a prelude to my blog. i decided agin it. (although if you missed them the first time around, i'm happy to send them your way.)

mara's email also reminded me of how funny SHE is, but then i couldn't printscreen the email to show you all, and i gave up on communicating that, as well.

and then, somehow, i got to thinking about the different animals i've been compared to in my life. thus i bring you:

ERIN'S BLOG ABOUT ANIMALS SHE'S BEEN COMPARED TO IN HER LIFE

my first animal comparison memory was being compared to cera from the land before time. interesting fact about this (interesting being the nicest word for no one really cares) is that while i was first compared to cera when the land before time (or tlbt as we hipsters like to call it) when the movie first came out. i was later compared to her when i went to college. specialady kt also saw the resemblance:

some might argue that cera doesn't count, considering she's

a. a cartoon

and

b. a dinosaur (as a kansan i don't believe in evolution and/or dinosaurs)

making her doubly fictitious. don't you worry, though, i have a whole long list of other animals

that i've been compared to:

cats (affectionate when i want to be, bitey when i don't):

dogs (although some just say bitch, but i'm sure they meant the loveable, fluffly kind of dog....):

chipmunks:

ferrets (for my desire, nay NEED to get into small spaces and break things. also the smell):

and just today i was compared to a koala:

a hedgehog:

and a unicorn (thanks, sean!):

what does this say about me? the same thing all of the colors mixed together says....BROWN.

Es-Cape or The Story of Ellie Moody

2008-08-04T13:02:00.009-04:00

so, this past weekend i went to cape cod. for those of you who don't know, cape cod is attached to massachussetts. but, really, it's kinda its own thing:

look at me! i'm cape cod. i flex my arm muscle at the rest of the state of massachusetts. something about water, as well... and boats, we can't forget boats.

some good things about the cape include:

1. time with friends

2. finally seeing harleigh:

3. drag queens (the good ones):

4. chillaxation time

5. quirky t-shirts:

6. ellie moody (our awesome tram driver to the beach)

6. becky's mom!

some bad things about the cape include:

1. the traffic on the way

2. drag queens (the scary ones):

3. the people who sell quirky t-shirts (why yes i DID get into a fight with a woman trying to sell me a sweatshirt for more than was advertised on the sign above said sweatshirt. thank you for asking.)

4. almost dying on the way back.

some things that happened on the cape that were bad, but the cape can't rightly be blamed for:

1. everything about peggy sue got married. (how did i used to like this movie??)

but let's not dwell on the negative, as that wouldn't be like me. let's talk about the good. so, it was totally awesome to hang with debbie, becky, and harleigh. they hadn't met each other, which is weird because they obviously should've by now. so, we remedied that sitch.

also, watching becky and her legions of cats was really entertaining, if only because becky's head darts from side to side trying to follow the movements of all of them. it makes her look more spastic than normal (tough to do, i know). plus she refers to them as her siblings, which is amusing in an i'm-actually-kind-of-concerned way.

but the best thing about the cape was becky's mom! becky's mom summers at the cape, so we knew she'd be there when we went to visit. what i didn't realize is that becky's mom is a MOM. i mean, i should've put two and two together, but i'm an adult now (sorta), so i don't expect people to do things for me (unless you're one of my friends, read: minions. i DO expect you to do almost everything for me.) any more.

well, my friends, becky's mom! does it all. she provides beds and linens, gives advise on where to go and what to see, shares her lodgings, makes food(!) AND doesn't let you help clean up after yourself. she sneakily treats you to dinner, and she talks about how to improve becky's life with you while becky sits in the background making faces (stop pouting, becky!). all in all, i would definitely recommend her to a friend.

all of that AND i got to have nap time. hurrah! the system works.

And the Winner is....Or Fake Good is Better than Real Good

2008-07-30T23:53:00.006-04:00

so, okay, i really want to be a good person. i guess i should say, apparently, i want to be a good person. i sign up for volunteer projects. i rally people together to go to charity fundraisers. and i give the people i'm hanging out with multiple ways to get ahold of me when we're going to meet up (you know, just in case i'm a tad behind or something goes awry).

i should get an award, right?*

well, apparently, it is a mere façade, and i don't ACTUALLY want to be a good person. i just want to give the impression that i'm a good person.

let's take a look at this week, for example. monday, i was signed up to go help old people play bingo. they can't necessarily hear that well, and my fingers are much more dextrous than theirs, so it just makes sense that i would be there to help them when the numbers are called, right?

no, no, grandmother, let me help you with that, sort of thing:

it only happens twice a month, and i really make an effort to sign up.

which is a real shame since i didn't even go on monday. i had kind of a headache, and i wasn't feeling great, and i had a long day, and i didn't need old people to remind me of eminent death.

no, thanks! instead, i came home and watched who's that girl?

oh, madonna, you're such a good actress!

then today, i had invited becky to go to this fundraiser with me. she was to meet me at work at a designated time, and we would go from there. yeah, well, not only did i get out so late and not respond to any phone calls for so long that becky actually thought i ditched her (she probably

started to do the sad charlie brown walk away thing that she does), but also ALSO we decided not to go.

good grief, indeed, charlie brown.

so, i guess i don't support haitian education after all. pity, really. i thought i believed in things. i guess i just believe in appearing as though i believe in things.

but really, isn't that just as good, nay, better, even? think about it.

*i actually did get an award for volunteering. back in aught aught. actually, it might've been '99, but i like saying aught, so we're going to round up:

My Head Hurts or Me Duele en mi Cabeza

2008-07-28T15:19:00.005-04:00

my head is really mad at me right now, and i can't figure out why. likely it's because i've had too much sugar:

or not enough sugar:

but either way, i'm in pain here. the good news is that whoever sat here prior to me left some things on the desk. namely, a little container that's holding some paperclips, what appears to be some sort of mouse connector, a pencil topper, pepper, a sucking candy, salt, and a couple of packets of pills. unfortunately, they appear to be decongestants, but they all do the same thing, right? i mean, i'm just looking to mask the pain, i don't have to actually cure anything. let's not reinvent the wheel here....

but the thing is, i'm just not sure that a decongestant is going to actually cure a headache. while i like to believe that any pill will do what i want it to do, i have some very convincing evidence that they are not, in fact, interchangeable:

anyway, i think i'm going to give it a shot.

i'll let you know if i end up pregnant.

A Farewell to Arms or Who the Hell Are You?!

2008-07-24T20:09:00.006-04:00

sadly, today i had to bid farewell to the bidet.

also, in theory, to annie, who failed to show up today to actually say good-bye to me in person. and this after our conversation yesterday that went as so:

(after a lunch where annie asked me questions and then interrupted my answers to talk to random strangers traipsing across the grass who were apparently more interesting than me. and now you know why annie and i are friends.)

annie: okay, i have to run to a meeting (said while looking to the sky, to the ground, anywhere but at me directly).

me: okay. will i see you again before i go? (reaching out to her physically with my hands and emotionally with my eyes to try to capture the moment)

annie: yeah, i'll see you tomorrow. high five.

*slapping of hands*

me: okay, see you, chump (looking wistfully over my shoulder at her as she disappeared into a building).

and just like that, i never saw her again. yes, it was yesterday, so how do i know i'll never see her again. did i put a hit out on her life? no, my friends, that is too time consuming. plus, if i'm going to murder someone, i want to get my hands dirty.

i mean, the thing with annie is that her memory is that of a goldfish. and not just any goldfish, but a radioactive goldfish that never had a chance because its brain is half pudding (J-E-L-L-O!) and therefore remembers significantly less than other goldfish:

yes, annie is constantly probing me (not like that, play doh boy) for "topeka gossip" even though she doesn't remember anyone from topeka. in fact, i'm not even sure she remembers where topeka is located on a map:

so, the likelihood that she will remember that we're good friends is slim to none. she's probably already forgotten my name. which is sad because i kinda like her. we get along well, and she's sort of an alcoholic, which makes me feel like less of a lush. but, these things happen, and i have to let her go.

so, let's raise our glasses to the bidet. i mean, to annie:

(to annie)

West Coast Times or Hair Bidet, Gone Tomorrow

2008-07-22T15:23:00.007-04:00

so, i'm in northern california right now, which is nice because it means that i don't have to deal with all of the terrible east coast humidity that makes my hair so frizzy:

of course, i couldn't bring my hair products in my carry-on bag, and i flew here using one of those great airlines that is now charging to check baggage, so my hair isn't doing so well, regardless:

but this isn't a posting about my hair. actually, it is, but it wasn't supposed to be....

so, i lived in southern california, as many of you know, and while i enjoyed many things about it, i also hated a few things, and a few more filled me with murderous rage. i'm not saying that i was forced to leave the state because i killed anyone or anything, but it is best that i travel under an alias while back in this part of the country. don't judge me.

but northern california is apparently a different place, entirely. now, i know a few people in this general region, and i've certainly been here several times prior to now, but i never noticed how...different it is until now.

to what am i referring?

today i used a toilet that not only had a built in seat warmer (his name is larry and he just hangs out there until you need to use the facilities, and then it's pre-warmed for you, thanks-very-much), but it was also a bidet. (you don't want to know that guy's name. frankly, he was pretty strange....)

so began the struggle. do i use it? do i not? do i dare to experience what could be the best or worst couple of seconds of my life or do i play it safe and go with what i know? if i use it, which one do i use? should i go for a straight shot or use the oscillating function? do i dare go european? i mean, there's no coming back from that, right? right??

to be honest, i'm more upset by the seat being warm than by the shooting water. shooting water just makes sense. i guess:

oh, these foreign places.

A Room with a View or FOOD!

2008-07-15T19:06:00.003-04:00

so, today was day two of "the new job," and i think i've figured out everything important that i need to know. yes, i'm a fast learner.

for instance, i know where the nearest kitchenette is to me (approximately six feet away):

i also know where the dining halls are located, which is mayhaps the most important thing of all.

and that's about it.

what's my actual job, you ask? i have no idea. but i'm sure that i'm really good at it? but really, i can't be bothered by things like working because i have to concentrate on what i'm going to eat next. and the good news is that my life long dream to become a plus sized model may actually come true. yay! take that actual-model-brother*:

anyway, i have to actually pack all of my possessions for my upcoming move. i'm moving to hollywood to make it big. okay, that's a lie. i'm moving a few blocks away so that my stalkers can't find me anymore. they're really lazy stalkers....

*i tried to find the most disturbing model picture of barret that i could.

Back from Israel or Ways of Dying

2008-07-08T12:18:00.003-04:00

shalom! hello! remember me? i know, it's been awhile since i've been around, but don't worry. mara has forbid me from going anywhere, possibly ever again, so i'll be able to share all of my thoughts, ideas, and especially anything angerfying with you from now until forever.

yay!

the bad news? i think i'm dying, so i may not be able to blog about nothing for always.

as per usual, i came back from hiatus with a new scar. well, to be fair, it's not a scar yet, it's still a festering wound (ew). this one is stigmata, and it's really quite painful. luckily it's only on my left hand. wait, that's not lucky, i'm left handed.

anyway, if it were just stigmata, i'd be okay, BUT i also have devil eyes. really, i don't know why, but the whites of my eyes are now bright red. it's cute.

in other news, i'm ridiculously tired and i want to go to bed, but debbie won't let me because she's mean.

it's good to be back?

Not too bright

2008-07-06T21:38:00.002-04:00

This blog entry will be quite short and let me tell you why. It took me 20 minutes just now to figure out how to sign in to write on Erin's blog. I won't go into details (missed emails, breaking into Erin's email account, cake batter ice cream), but be comforted that I did eventually figure it out and now I am writing.

Or not. I can't think of anything to say. Chris did just say he wants to start a blog, so...Yup, I'm handing it over. Good night!

So, the day started out normal when Mara and I were doing absolutely nothing. However, then people actually came over to our apartment! This was surprising considering no one ever comes over to visit and I have slowly become my grandmother and that is so sad that I can't even believe i just wrote it down. However, I'm so lazy that I refuse to hit backsp. I'm also so lazy that I couldn't even finish writing backspace.

So, anyway it was the most social day I've ever experienced in my entire life. We watched tennis, we talked about the food we were eating, we laughed on several occasions. I hope there are more days like it in the future. Oh yeah, another great part about it was the guitar! I am taking guitar lessons and am very excited about it. We have this little fenced in area in the front of our apartment where the dog can hang out and run around and we can all grill and sing while I play all the songs I learn on the guitar. It's gonna be a great summer.

JNF is way better than Your Mom* or a lesson in irony

2008-07-06T00:18:00.003-04:00

*Editor's note: the name of the company in which said "Erin" will be working for has been changed in order to maintain anonymity. The job will now be referred to as "Your Mom" for the duration of this document. We hope you understand the sensitive nature of this material and can appreciate the changes made. But if you can't, no one cares anyway.*

So, my dearest Erin is leaving me, in more ways then one. I mean first she travels to South America, then to Israel, then she tells me she is moving 2 subway stops away from me – and of course as we all know by now she has taken some fancy new job – who does this girl think she is? Who told her it was okay to not spend all of her time with me?! Seriously, I am going to hunt you down...

Anyway, I think Erin has made a HUGE MISTAKE, I mean sure everyone thinks "Your Mom" is the greatest, but what people don't know is that JNF is even greater! I mean I know you are all shaking your heads right now, which is why I have made a list of the reasons (yay lists!).

Free Food – "Your Mom" is touted for how they give you free food everyday. Sure, this sounds great in theory, but I think JNF's system is way better. We get free food sometimes at JNF, like if there is a meeting we get to have the scraps of lunch leftover two hours later, or we have bagels and cake the 10 times a year when it is someone in our department's birthday. See, you learn to appreciate the free food, it is an unexpected treat, so much better than getting a gourmet lunch and dinner everyday, take that "Your Mom".
Free Massages – "Your Mom" and their free stuff, yay yay, show offs. So I bet you are thinking how can JNF even compare with this luxurious offering, well in two ways. One I recently heard people talking about how several years ago JNF used to offer back massages one day a year, and that they might bring that back, this would be a lovely unexpected treat (see: free food). Also, on my birthright, which JNF sent me on, there was one guy who gave really good back massages, that was great! Less is more, I mean why would I want a back massage everyday?! Those knots I have in my back and shoulders remind me of all the hard work I am doing, people at "Your Mom" must be relaxed all the time, and that means the work they are doing is unimportant.
Non-profits are superior – Speaking of unimportant work, working at a non-profit allows you to feel superior to people. I mean at JNF we are basically volunteers with the salaries we make, but we get paid in feeling all great about ourselves because we are “helping to make the world a better place.” I mean sure "Your Mom" has created "your ugly face", "your butt", "your flame retardant footie pajamas" and any number of other things I use on the internet, but come one, the internet is just some lame fad, planting trees in Israel is forever.
Mottos/Mission Statements – "Your Mom"'s motto is “Don't be evil” and as my brother Jason pointed out, isn't that exactly the kind of statement someone evil would make! Meanwhile, JNF's mission statement is “We are the caretakers of the land of Israel, on behalf of its owners, Jewish people everywhere.” I mean evil isn't mentioned in that, just nice words like caretakers. JNF is taking care of land, building a community of people, and "Your Mom" is just concerned about seeming all nice and, and not evil and all. Seems suspect to me.

So, I could continue, but I don't really need to, do I? It seems pretty obvious based on this list that Erin would have been so much happier staying at her volunteer job at JNF, with her knotty back and occasional free food, her life would have been better....but she made her choice, she is choosing a life of endless free food and massages and higher pay and who knows what else...

Bye Erin, it was nice knowing you.

on the aniversary of our nations birth, or something

2008-07-04T13:20:00.011-04:00

so, it's the fourth of july. not really a big deal in my book, except for one thing- it's the one day a year i know i will be spending with erin.

this year, however, i'm spending time with her blog. on the surface, really, it doesn't seem like that big of a change. i get to hear (read...) her commentary on life, play the free-association game as she rambles, and all the while i can listen to music or watch tv. not that different, right? that's what i thought. but i was kind of wrong.

in an effort to distract myself, i decided i'd try to get out of the city. i was going to drive up to westchester and watch the fireworks in some little patriotic town where the fourth of july is actually a big deal. you head over to the town park with a blanket and maybe some grub, and lay down on the baseball fields with your friends or family or whomever. (i have no idea who that family is...) then there's like an hour of fireworks right above you. you look at the stars, and it's so peaceful, then the fireworks start up and it's magical. it's totally silent, and all of a sudden all you hear are the fireworks. all you see against the black sky are brilliant colors. it's less ostentatious than the macy's fireworks by far, but it's unmarred by the city lights. you can see why this would be an appealing summer night activity.

just to make sure i showed up on time, and that there were still fireworks at the town park, i went online to check. sure enough, there it was-- the schedule for the fireworks to celebrate our nation's independence from the tyrannical rule of king george. ...or some such nonsense. but wait. no. they're celebrating the day after independence day. july 5. what the fuck? that's ridiculous, right? i mean, i bet you think i even read the pdf wrong. but i didn't. see for yourself. i told you.

so no big deal. i'll go tomorrow. still get that magical experience. but i'm pretty much back at square one as far as hanging out with erin goes. my new plan? i'm not sure, but it will probably
involve malibu and dumb movies and laughter.
not so different after all, turns out...

The Blog of lists, or, Erin - Do I really have to come up with another title?

2008-07-02T13:44:00.003-04:00

Women I'd go straight for:
Angelina Jolie
Tina Faye

Things I think I would die if they never existed:
Crazy straws
High fives
Bubble wrap
Sex
Whoopi Goldberg (yes, there is a reason she's right after sex)
Squirrels
Mango on a stick
Bubbles
Out door Cafes
Pizza when you're drunk
Iced Green Tea
Glitter
Mrs. Butterworths
Grass........man
High Tops
The Beyond section at Bed, Bath & Beyond
When people combine words into 1 by accident
Glitter ballet flats (now I must admit I didn't know these existed until Google suggested them on my sidebar)
Immediately below: Men Bra
All things Pixar

Giant Injustices of the World:
A buzzed Britney
$12 cocktails
The day my gym threw my button up shirt and vest away
The fact that hot dog buns come in packages of 8 and hot dogs come in packages of 10
People naming their kids with all the same first letter.
Blueberries being more than $5 in winter
$3 pizza
A $1.25 banana
The cast of 'Everybody loves Raymond'
Touching yourself for pleasure
Napoleon being so short
A condom being named after a destructive horse
Card catalogues
The 'Try Me' Button when it's broken
Salt and Vinegar chips

Things I find annoying:
You

Lame Insults
The stuff you're suppose to lick on the back of envelopes
The DMV
People who take up the whole sidewalk
3 people in a 4 section bench
Utah
Christmas songs
People talking to me in the elevator
ATM charges
Unrealistic serving sizes
Glitter
Butt sweat
Dogs dressed as Humans
That cotton inside Vitamin bottles
Washing my ankles.
The main thief in Aladdin
Mara's fickle cold shoulder

Favorite Holidays:
Flag Day
Tranny Appreciation Day (you are correct, this is a daily holiday)
Erin give Matthew a $1 day

Fun words to say:
Shimmer
Sparkle
Wahoo
Optimus Prime
Poonany
Glitter

Things that make me gay:
Liza Minelli doing Judy Garland doing Liza Minelli
Planet Unicorn Haaay.
Drop Dead Gorgeous
Kinky Boots (movie and actual object)
White Skinny Jeans
G.I.Joe
Mesh Tank Tops
Glitter
Your mom, naked, on a cold day
Al Sharpton
Rainbow flag matching tea set
Giga Pets
Playing Peter Pan as a child
Neil Patrick Harris
Feather Boas
OMG Shoes
Mojitos
The Washington Monument
RuPaul
Boy George

This Picture:

Garden Ho's
Babies
Jack from Just Jack 2000, and Just Jack 2001
A special locker for my hat

Things that make me straight:
I like to spit

Welcome Back, Me or My Kind of Town

2008-07-02T00:24:00.005-04:00

Oh. Hello again.

It has been a long time hasn't it?

No, you look great!

Oh, stop!

Thanks for noticing, I am using a new shampoo. Its quite volumizing.

It is too a word!

Well, I love what you've done with the place. Still with the polka dots and all.

Yes, there is something to be said for consistency.

What have I been up to? Oh, you know, this and that. Yourself?

Really?

Uh huh.

With bison, huh? Well, I guess you've got me there.

No, I'm in Chicago now.

Chicago. Chi-ca-go. Its in Illinois. In the middle of the country.

The part that's not New York.

Its actually the third largest city in the US. You've never --

You know, Chicago...

Fine. Well its a great city. The best part about Chicago is that its a city that recognizes all the complexities of life and tries to make living simple. Take, for example, finding a place to live. Moving is difficult and Chicago recognizes that. So they've come up with an easy way to figure out where each person should live:

This way, you don't have to look throughout the entire city for an apartment, you can just look in your specific region.

What's that?

If you don't fit into one of those categories? I don't understand.

Well, I'm sure you could ask the city and they'll tell you where you belong.

Anyway, Chicago is also a pioneer in weather simplification. A lot of places have as many as four different seasons, each with their intricate weather patterns. Chicago has realized that you really only need two. So they've made it easy. From September through May, its really-fucking-cold-and-snowing season. And if its June, July or August it must be ridiculously-hot-and-humid season! So much less complicated - you don't have to worry about trying to figure out how many layers to wear or whether you'll need boots. Just look at the calendar!

Some things, however, they haven't mastered quite yet. Food, for example. I thought they had figured out a way to make all the food in the city weigh you down for three days - there's pizza stuffed with four cows of cheese, greasy Thai food, giant cheeseburgers - but that was before last night. I was at dinner celebrating my friend Carissa's birthday (and her return from the Czech Republic). She wanted to go to a sushi place because apparently you can't get good unagi in Prague and in the process we found my new favorite sushi ever - the Po Boy roll at Coast. So delicious. And, I expected, ridiculously heavy. But, as it turned out, I still had enough room for several beers, some sake and a couple bites of the flourless chocolate cake they brought her for dessert. C'mon Chicago, get your shit together.

Nevertheless, I guess Chicago is still pretty great. Stevie Wonder even stopped by on Saturday to say hi. He was accompanied by what looked to be everyone in North America. Which was nice to see, but one piece of advice, Chicago. Before your next guests arrive, do a little better job of vetting. Stevie's music was making a little black girl and a little white girl do somersaults together. Chicagoans were starting to get confused so I had to step in and explain to the girls that we keep things simple in Chicago and that sort of thing has no place here. Thankfully, situation diffused. But let's make sure it doesn't happen again, eh Chicago?

My Ryder List or I Only Eat Green M&Ms

2008-06-30T11:31:00.003-04:00

I had intended on guest blogging a fascinating expose today, examining the correlation between the rise of the sea level and the increase of reality television shows (I have some pretty powerful evidence supporting the theory that global warming is caused by Spencer and Heidi from The Hills). But upon arrival to blogger.com I was greeted by such an impressive welcome that instead I feel obligated to share my gratitude.

Erin, on behalf of your guest bloggers I would like to thank you. I thought the $5,000 research stipend and $15,000 appearance fee you've given each of us were gift enough. I'm even more grateful, though, that you managed to placate each and every one of my appearance requests. The plate of green M&Ms, silk bathrobe with "CAESAR" embroidered on the back, and collection of Tickle-Me Elmos in the greenroom were exactly what I wanted. The meth was of an exquisite quality (unless R.P. has found your blog, in which case I don't know what meth is and nobody should be curious enough to find out). When I requested a baby polar bear, I didn't think you'd have the wit or resources to get me one. But not only were you able to get one for me, but you cooked it to perfection.

Erin, you and your blogspot are a gift to us all, and I am honored to be a guest writer.

This I believe or why frozen grapes are the best dessert ever!

2008-06-29T20:20:00.005-04:00

HELLO EVERYONE! It's Becky! It's been a while since my last guest blogging stint here at erinelan.blogspot.com. A lot has happened. For example, I have my own blog now! And, I'm living in Astoria now! And, Erin and I joined L.G.B.T and Friends Shul together! And, I'm kind of tan because I went to visit my friend who has a POOL yesterday! And, I got a new watch at target on Friday! And...yeah!

Things are going pretty well for me.

So, for this assignment I've decided to blog about an NPR show called 'This I believe'. Has anyone heard of it? Well, I heard about it one Friday night at shul with Erin. Our rabbi told us about it, and it sounded REALLY cool!

Here's a link to the show's website at npr.org:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4538138

Basically, it's a show on NPR where people (famous people or "regular folk" like you and me, that's right like YOU and ME) are encouraged to write short essays about what they "believe". The essays are then put up on the NPR website and some of them are read

What YOU "believe" can be anything. YOU could "believe" that ADIDAS sambas are the best sneakers on Earth, or you could believe that Thursday is the worst day of the week, or that AIDS is way lame.

What matters is your conviction, not your subject matter. Cool, right?

Well, after <3<3<3<3<3<3 Rabbi Kleinbaum <3<3<3<3<3 (yes, I really really love her that much) told Erin and I about 'This I believe' I decided that I would write an essay. I was GO GO GO for the idea!
Erin said she would write an essay too, though she eventually lost interest (Granted, she was asleep when I told her 'Hey Erin, I think we should both write essays about what we believe!! !!!!', and I had just broken into her apartment, and I was drunk...but whatever).

I know, it doesn't sound like Erin to lose interest in something, but it's a true story.

The problem is, I don't have a topic yet. I don't know what I "believe" in. This is where YOU come in-I want YOU to help me come up with a topic for my essay! I'm going to list some ideas that I have and then you can comment and let me know YOUR thoughts.

Here goes:

1) I believe that frozen grapes are amazing

2) I believe that naps are freedom

3) I believe that sunsets are always beautiful

4) I believe that there is beauty in everything

5) I believe that the TV show 'How I Met Your Mother' is hilarious!

6) I believe that creating art is always healing, even if you can't see it until later on

7) I believe that Manchego is the BEST. CHEESE. MMM

8) I believe that shoes really DO make the outfit

9) I believe that there's humor in everything, even if you can't see it until later on

OK, that's it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

The New Black or Mmm...Donuts....

2008-06-25T14:17:00.001-04:00

i have rekindled my love of donuts. there. i've said it. no beating around the bush on this one, it had to be put out there.

it all started yesterday. i came into the office, and leah's son had chocolate on his mouth. naturally i was curious about where said chocolate came from, so i said,

me: raphael, you have chocolate on your mouth.

to which he replied

raphael: tee hee hee

at this point, i knew i needed in on the action. but he wouldn't share his delicious looking chocolate frosted glazed donut (with sprinkles) with me. so, i had to go get my own. luckily the donut man lives (i'm pretty sure he lives in that little booth there on the corner, right? just in case i need a donut some time during the night?) on the corner.

it was only 75 cents, and SO WORTH IT.

in fact, i was so happy with my purchase that i decided to get a donut today, too. debbie and i bought one to share, but sadly, it was terrible. i know, right? a terrible donut? it was so sad, and i realized it was because i went to a different guy from yesterday.

so, i rectified this egregious act by getting a donut from corner guy (as i've come to know him over the past two days). it was the same kind from yesterday, and delicious. debbie and i split this one, too. and i thought my craving for donuts had been satisfied.

but i was wrong.

i got another one from corner guy when becky went to get an iced coffee. and it was EQUALLY DELICIOUS.

and then i remembered that i had donuts the other day, too! on our way back from our cousin's wedding (where we embarrassingly asked a man if it was the correct wedding only to find out he was the groom and our cousin. oops!) we stopped at dunkin donuts and had the jolliest dd worker since the days when michelle worked there (and gave free munchkins to all the cute guys).

so, basically, donuts are the new black, and i'm SO into them.

i feel a little sick....

The Final Countdown or So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish

2008-06-24T14:17:00.001-04:00

so, i'm in my final few days of "work" and i'm surprisingly saddened about the prospect of leaving. i mean, i've poured my heart and soul into this job, nurturing the trees with my very being, pruning them with my love and affection, and now i have to let them grow without me.

i'm just kidding. a more appropriate metaphor:

i work for an environmental organization that plants trees. a couple of weeks ago, we ripped the tree out from in front of our building in order to even out the pavement or some such. that's kind of how i feel about this place; rather than build upon the goodness that is here, or, you know, work with the tree out front to help it grow, we tear it from the earth and pretend it never existed.

deep, huh?

unfortunately, i kind of like some of the people who work here, though, and even though i know where they live, it will be kinda sad to not see them at work every day. my office is a lot like the show "the office" with its ridiculousness and quirky characters.

and i've learned things from being here. i've become a more well-rounded person (and not just a more rounded person, though all of the free bagels and lox does round out my physique quite a bit...) being able to juggle things like "supposed to be working" with "pretending to be working" and "just plain not working even a little bit" (which is what i'm mastering right now). i've also learned how to tell people i'm busy when i'm not because i don't want to do the work they have for me.

all in all, learning galore. and for a first job in the "real world" it hasn't been bad.

so, you know, so long. and thanks for all the fish.

Back at the Homestead or ¿De Veras?

2008-06-18T14:17:00.000-04:00

weeeeell, i'm back. good for you, sad for me kind of thing. i mean, i know you missed me, you don't have to put it in writing (but you should...), but coming back from vacation womps.

for instance, i am at work today, and for some reason, they actually want me to work. what's that all about? i just got back! i'm not going to work, i'm going to fiddle about and look at facebook all day. also upload pictures from my trip and be sad that i'm not on the beach today:

so, i'm not in colombia anymore, and i'm sure you all want to know all about it. but i'm already bored of recounting things, so i'll just hit a few highlights.

jason and i went to the salt cathedral, which is made out of a salt mine. what's cool about something being 85% salt? you get to lick the walls! mmm... (i also learned that "salary" comes from using salt or "sal" en espanol as a form of barter for other goods and services. it all makes sense! or should i say cents?! no, i should say sense, cents isn't that funny.)

the botero museum in bogota is SO COOL. okay, so my dad used to take us on all sorts of "cultural outings" (i mean, we lived in topeka, so....) when we were little. we'd do charcoal sketches at the zoo or hit up the natural history museum with the stuffed buffalo, but i've never been that into museums. they're okay, but i get overwhelmed. there's too much to see and there's never enough time, dammit!

BUT this museum was awesome. it was still pretty big, and i didn't get to see as much of it as i wanted, but there were all of these really amazing botero paintings (i think he's still painting, the cheeky so and so), and all of these other kinds of surrealist works as well. dali and picasso were both representin' in da house:

plus it was across the street from the gabriel garcia marquez cultural center, and love in the time of cholera is one of my favorite books ever.

i got to come up with a ridiculous amount of inside jokes AND enjoy an ocean view from inside an air conditioned apartment (with a sweatshirt on, naturally) with my new housemates:

The Sleeper, Beard, Neck Hair, and Bulge

i almost got on the wrong airplane. okay, really, i DID get on the wrong airplane, but the thing is, someone was sitting in my seat, and it was confusing because we were BOTH 17d. weird, huh?

yeah, it's because the plane was going to santa domingo and not new york. oops! i guess my spanish speaking skills did not improve at all....

but the most important thing that happened while i was in colombia is that i fell in LOVE. he couldn't get a visa, though, so i had to leave him at the hostel in bogota. i know he'll wait for me, though:

sad, i know. we're so cute together.

The Sad Farewell or I'm Going on Vacation, So Don't Bother to Complain About my Lack of Blogging

2008-06-06T12:36:00.004-04:00

so, i actually already blogged today, if you're interested.

but i do have something very pathetic and tragic to bring up.

today, we lost one of our nearest and dearest, which is especially sad because i haven't seen her for a few days.

yes, friends, i'm talking about debbie:

look at her there, volunteering for her birthday, sweet girl that she is.

or should i say was?

yes, friends, sadly we must bid farewell to debbie, not just because i'm not going to see her for twenty days, nay, because she has found the evils of guitar hero.

good bye, lovely debbie. you shall be missed...

Why Becky is Out of the Loop or My New Best Friend!

2008-06-04T16:17:00.006-04:00

so, every now and then i get a new best friend. i can't really compile a list because it's just too extensive, but you all remember best friend chris, perhaps?

well, he had to be replaced because he moved to china (typical...) and i forget about people when they're physically no longer in my presence.

anyway, after months and months of extensive thought, planning, and whatnot (whatnot being its own definitive grouping), i've FINALLY got a new best friend:

his name is dan

(hi dan)

and he's my new best friend.

why? well, i'm glad you asked!

first of all, he knows words like wysiwig. AND he knows what they mean.

also, he brought me a reese's pieces. yes. one. yes. the little candy-coated dealies:

AND, he dressed up for purim in the office--he's not even jewish!--and he was the only one who bothered to dress for the holiday (i was making a political statement about the unfair treatment of queen vashti by not dressing up, myself...) in a building FULL of jews. what's that all about??

and this one time (approximately on hour ago), we emailed each other at the SAME TIME. isn't that crazy?!

best of all, though, when he's been drinking, he invites us all over to his house and:

lets us break his dishes

promises to make us dinner

and he's a REALLY good cook. or so i imagine from all of the delicious foods he brings in. i don't know that i've ever tried anything he's made actually...

anyway, let's welcome dan into the fold of my friendship.

and let's wait a couple of weeks to share with him how demanding, bratty, bossy, annoying, mean, evil, and terrifying i am.
YAY!

Joe vs. the Volcano or Quitting

2008-06-02T02:17:00.000-04:00

another monday, and here i am at work. every day on my way to work i feel like this:

seriously, when i get off the subway at 59th and try to push my way up those stairs, i start singing this song in my head while scenes from joe vs. the volcano and metropolis (the 80s version) flash through my head. i know, i know, i watched a lot of movies growing up....

anyway, maybe you've noticed my unrest as of late. a lot of this is due to the fact that it's supposedly getting nicer outside, and i hate being cooped up inside.

and a lot of it has to do with the building tension about my job. (i'm too social. we'll leave it at that....)

so, when i finally got the opportunity to quit, i wanted it to go something like this:

but it wasn't at all like that. in fact, meg ryan didn't even bother to show up to work, thank you very much meg. no, my bosses were really nice and supportive about my leaving, which meant that i couldn't be mean to them. especially since they didn't ask me about why i was leaving or anything. hmph.

but no worries, because now, i feel like this:

and if i'm happy, you're happy, right? right.

Complaints or Why I'm Up Early on a Sunday

2008-06-01T09:00:00.005-04:00

here i am, up early on a sunday morning and none too happy about it. i have half an hour before i have to run out the door, so i decided to complain (e.g. blog for those of you who haven't noticed that this is the sole purpose for me having a blog) about the fact that i am up early on a sunday.

granted, i'm usually up early on sundays and every other day for that matter, as i don't believe in sleep. i guess it's not so much that i don't believe in it as much as i don't think it exists in any sort of permanent state. i know some people can sleep at just about any time for just about any length of time, but frankly, i've always been suspicious of them....

but then again, i also don't think that asparagus doesn't make my pee smell, but saph informed me yesterday that 1/4 of the population just can't smell that smell. don't worry, we've formulated a plan to figure out if my pee is free of the asparagus smell or if my nasal capacity isn't broad enough to encompass that particular aroma. if you're nice, i'll spare you the details and just tell you the results.

anyway, i'm up early on a sunday, and i'm annoyed about it. i know this comes as a shock, as i'm never annoyed about anything. but, i'm extra agitated because i'm wearing a lime green shirt and i have to go to work today. i mean, i have to go to the building i work in.

why?

because it's israel day.

what is israel day, you want to know?

it's a day where i have to wake up early sport a lime green shirt and go to park avenue to march in a parade celebrating israel. i'm pretty sure it was designed to punish me for not wanting to go to work on the weekend.

but erin, you ask, why are you going if you don't want to? surely they can't force you to celebrate israel day!

hm....this one's tricky. you're a wily little devil, aren't you?

tasmanian devil

okay, they can't FORCE me to go. this is true. but what they CAN do is lure me in by announcing the free breakfast, so that the odds are really really good that i will go. (i briefly tried to think of a really good ratio to insert here, but i recently found out that i'm particularly bad with ratios, so i quickly gave up. you're imaginative. think of one yourself.)

anyway, i'm annoyed because i simply cannot bypass free breakfast. i'm jewish! AND i work for a non-profit!

so, i'm off to the israel day parade.

yay, bagels!

er, i mean, israel.

really? you're 60? that's OLD, dude.

Here Kitty, Kitty or OW! MY FINGERS!

2008-05-20T14:17:00.004-04:00

so, for years now, my mom has been comparing me to a cat. why, you ask? simple.

1. i'm lazy
2. i like affection, but only when i want it, not when you want it.
3. i lay in the sun whenever i can.
4. many, many naps.
5. i bite.

these are just a few examples, but you get the point. i've decided that i'm more like a kitten. you know how kittens look all innocent and cute? and you say to yourself

awwww! how adorable! i should pick up that sweet little kitten and pet it and love it and kiss its fuzzy little head.

and then as soon as you reach for the little furball, it whips out its curved little sharp-ass fangs and claws and mauls you to death. and you say to yourself:

ahhhhh! the pain! THE PAIN! what was i thinking??

but then five minutes later you repeat the whole scenario again because it looks so darn cute?

yeah.

as many of you know, i'm into knitting. i knit things in straight lines, mainly, so scarves are a specialty of mine. but i also knit for charity, for babies nonetheless, so that when i get onto the subway with my large ball of fluffy yarn and my itsy bitsy knitting needles, people's eyes get all soft and they want to know what i'm making.

this is useful because people get up if they think you're an adorable little kitten, and they give you their seat.

or, today at lunch. i was knitting and eating with my co-workers. when you have that fluffy ball of yarn out, you get to say mean things, and people get confused. because:

plus

is supposed to equal

but for me, as the feisty little devil kitten that i am, it equals this instead:

oh the triumphs as feigning life as a good person. mwah-ha-ha!

Chained to the Desk or Carnival

2008-05-15T14:17:00.000-04:00

shhh...you have to be quiet, as i'm not really supposed to be blogging.

i know, i know, it never stopped me before, but things around here really changed. just about the time my boss's stomach grew from basketball size to watermelon size, her temperament completely changed.

okay, i'm being lenient. she was mean before, it's just that now it's taken on astronomical proportions.

let me give you an example. right now, there is a fair going on in the street. no, really, there are blow up toys and booths and children laughing, and we were actually invited, but we can't go frolic about with the youngins because my boss won't let us.

not only that, but she OPENED THE WINDOW. now i get to hear how everyone else is having fun while i'm working on spreadsheets.

tisn't fair. pop out your baby already so i can have some cotton candy.

grrr.

Intermission

2008-05-06T16:08:00.001-04:00

check out my mom's blog at:

http://helmsmindellmanagementconsulting.blogspot.com/

I Guess I'll Go Eat Worms or My Life as Compared to Buffy

2008-05-06T14:17:00.006-04:00

i started out thinking that today i would compare my life to that book, alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, and then possibly end the day by moving to australia:

okay, i already need to interrupt myself before i continue on to what i'm sure you can already tell will be a self-pitying, what does it all mean, my life is terrible, et. al. entry. did you know that alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, ve ry bad day is a MUSICAL?! yeah, i know! i can't even believe it! crazy.

anyway, i was going to start out with an analogy linking the quite somber book to my life. it was going to be poetic and sincere, with just a touch of tragedy. but instead, i'm going to find another way to feel sorry for myself.

annoying things were happening today. examples?

i bit my tongue while i was showering (that's actually two bad things, as we all know that i hate showering)

i messed up the hat i was knitting for an unspecified baby

i had to talk to ira

i squirted soap all over my skirt while at work.

so, while i was trying to complain to some co-workers about my terrible day, they kept interrupting me! i mean, really? i'm whining here! i tried several times to run through my list of complaints about life, but i never got very far.

then i got a phone call from someone else who was also having not the greatest day. i listened sympathetically. i "tsk"-ed at the appropriate times. i "uh-huh"-ed and "those bastards"-ed when the times called for it.

and then i tried to actually speak a sentence.

this maneuver was my downfall, as i got interrupted mid-statement. is my voice not working today? can no one hear me? is this like that episode of buffy where no one can find willow and it turns out she's invisible? is it? IS IT?! because i don't want to have my skin eaten off by some creepy monster with a long tongue who probably has poor dental hygiene:

and the thing is, i've been feeling out of sorts a lot lately. i mean, who knows why. maybe it's because i've gone a few days without ice cream. or it might be that i haven't been taking my vitamins. more than likely, it's because when the slayer died (and subsequently came back to life), the equilibrium of the world was thrown off and now evil has seized upon its chance to take over the world.

and because of this. i have decided to speak louder and ruin everyone else's day as well. so, have fun talking to me....

Cheeks or We Need to Talk

2008-04-28T14:17:00.007-04:00

oh. it's you.

the thing is, we're sort of in a fight. yeah, i know, this is awkward. but i've got an issue with something you've done. actually, it's something you've kept from me.

you see, a relationship has to be based on trust. if we can't trust each other, then how can we grow as a unit?

here's an example for you. remember that time when you looked really stupid in that outfit? and i was like, you look SO AWFUL. take that off immediately and put something cooler on or i won't be seen with you in public.

that kind of thing only strenghtens our relationship. so, that's what makes this so uncomfortable. i mean, you really should have told me. what am i supposed to do about it now? huh?

what am i talking about? like you don't know....

okay, fine. play dumb. make me say it and humiliate myself all over again. what i'm TALKING about is this:

i have the fattest face i've ever seen, and you didn't tell me!

oh please. don't pretend like you don't see it. what, you need further evidence?

okay, you know what? we're fighting. and anyway, i have to go. i need to shove acorns in my cheeks and start saving up for next winter.

Lesbian Shul or the 217 Dollar Deal

2008-04-24T14:17:00.005-04:00

so, yesterday becky and i made it official and finally joined lesbian shul. i know, i know. we're very excited, too.

there is a lot i want to convey about lesbian shul, but first i think i should give you a brief history (well, MY brief history) with them.

i first found cbst when i was researching shuls that don't charge non-members for high holiday services. i think it's completely ridiculous that places charge for its holy days. do you see the easter bunny charging to let people in churches for christmas day or whatever?

not usually.

anyway, that was the first time i went, and it was awesome. everyone was so welcoming and great, plus we sat in the balcony and it felt like we were at the opera, except i wasn't that bored.

so, then becky and i started going. and i love it. love, love, love the way the tree in the last unicorn loves schmendrick the magician.

but none of this is my point.

also not my point, but here it is anyway, is this little fact...

FACT: my friend sarah, who is visiting from chicago felt that it is pertinent for her to be mentioned in my blog. apparently it wasn't enough that i cut her out of the picture where i am hugging a bag of sugar.

and since she may or may not be a lesbian, she thought that this post would make sense for her to be in. as far as i know, she's never been to lesbian shul, so i don't know how she thinks she can be a lesbian. that's the way one determines if one is in fact a lesbian. but whatever. (hi sarah!)

so, yesterday, we sent in our payment for the 08-09 shul-year, and it was actually a bargain, coming out to $217.50 each. that's chump change for a year long shul membership.

so i've decided that from now on, i won't spend more than $217.50 on anything. Ever.

my rent will now be paid in monthly increments of $217.50

all major purchases will not exceed $217.50

if i need to fly somewhere, my ticket must be less than $217.50

every blog entry that i write will now be posted at 2:17 and 50 seconds

and, like many things in life, it is all thanks to lesbian shul.

Apples to Apples or Cards for Life

2008-04-23T14:33:00.007-04:00

i've been thinking a lot lately about the game apples to apples. for those of you who don't know it, it's a game where you have a green card that has an adjective on it:

everyone who is playing has a hand of red cards, which all have nouns on them. these nouns range from things like:

to:

the idea is to describe what's on the green card by throwing in your best red card. each round, a different participant judges and the best card (according to said participant) wins. this game can either be fun or lame, depending on who you play with and how literal they are about the cards.

anyway, i've been thinking about this game. why, you ask? i just love that you are SO interested in my life. it's sweet of you really:

there are actually multiple reasons i've been thinking about apples to apples. i supposed the most obvious reason is that i played it the other night, and of course, i rocked. it feels good to win games that have no point.

but there is something even more important than my rockability at the game (you didn't think there could be a more important than that, did you?). i have, in fact, decided that these cards are applicable to real life situations. no, really.

so, at work, someone asks me:

someone: erin, can you please draft a letter to _________ about some such thing you've never heard of and probably has nothing to do with you?

now instead of answering:

erin: sure, i can do that. i'll scan it for you when i'm finished, so you can then tell me i did it wrong and have me re-do it.

i can answer with a card:

erin:

or

erin:

see? it really works! and it doesn't just apply to the workplace. say i'm at a club dancing,

and some sleaze-ball tries to grind all up on me. well, now i have the solution!

ah, apples to apples. i love you!

Dear Diary or What I Ate Today

2008-04-17T20:34:00.006-04:00

so, today i was chatting with mara and julie at dinner about how i was thinking of blogging on what i ate today. mara so lovingly reminded me that my old diaries used to be completely about what i ate on any given day.

i beg to differ, though. i distinctly remember writing a passage about how i "pine for" brady miller. no, really i used those words. and really, i had a crush on brady miller:

on the left

but what do you want? i was in middle school with raging hormones and a thing for thespians. and the whole "pine for" thing wasn't my fault, either. i mean, it was renaissance festival time. which reminds me of turkey drumsticks and brings me back to my point:

things i ate today

dear diary,

today was an okay day. i woke up before my alarm clock again, which was annoying because i wanted to sleep in. but it did give me a chance to take a shower, which i guess is okay, even though i kinda didn't wanna take a shower. i mean, i JUST showered two days ago.....anyway, i kind of wanted to nibble on something right away. i was actually kinda hungry, which is weird because i don't usually eat until i get into the office, but after getting my lunch ready (rice to go with the panang tuna pack i had at work)

and grabbing some fruit, i decided to just get going. it was nice outside.

so, i actually didn't notice that i still hadn't eaten anything by eleven, which, again, weird because i usually eat at nine thirty or ten. but, to be fair, i did try to have some strawberries around 9:15. they had gone bad, which didn't stop me from biting into one, anyway, but it was no good.

and then i DID have a handful of honey nut cheerios, which i shoved frantically into my mouth, but that doesn't count because i didn't get any milk to put it in, thus wasting time by going down to the fridge on the second floor, talking to becky about her fake child named jewish, and filling my stomach in the way i normally do with cereal and milk.

then at eleven, i went to the fourth floor for something (i forgot what by the time i got there), and when i left, i filled my water bottle AND took a piece of chocolate covered matzoh. i started eating it on the way down, but then when i got to my desk, i decided that it would go really well with my fuji apple, so i supplemented, taking a bite of matzoh then a bite of apple.

it was just okay.

twelve thirty brought on cookie walk '08 (part 1), a scheduled affair that took us back to levain bakery for delicious chocolate chip brioche and whatever everyone else got.

at levain bakery

now, i wasn't going to eat it until after i had lunch, but instead i ate in on the way back to the office. and then i wasn't hungry for lunch.

cookie walk '08 (part 1) crew

i did have some sugar snap peas. those were good.

i met julie and mara for dinner, which was nice because i don't get to see julie that often, and i really like my sister. we went to a thai place, and i ordered pad see ew, but they called it pad see eil, which was TOTALLY crazy! anyway, i ate way too much and felt sick after dinner, which sucked, but passover is starting soon, so i couldn't really take leftovers with me.

now i'm home and watching amelie. i love this movie, it's so pretty. i wonder if brady miller would like it....

that's all for now. i'll write more if i have any ice cream or something later. thanks for listening, diary. you're always here for me.

love,
erin

and yes, i really did sign my diary "love" and my name. sad. i know.

Run Gracie Run or The Big Finish

2008-04-09T09:23:00.006-04:00

last night the worst thing happened. i was hanging out with debbie and becky (not the worst thing), and we decided to go to barnes and noble. maybe you've heard of it, it's a bookstore:

anyway, because debbie and becky are such good, close friends, i decided to share with them my (new) favorite book:

this book is AMAZING! it's all about campaigning and teaches kids the uselessness of the electoral college. what could be better?

now, becky has been subjected to this book before, as the last time we were in b&n and discovered that it exists, i made her read it and tell me how great it is. so when she wandered off mentally to look at other books, i allowed it. but debbie, DEBBIE failed me. she did NOT love my book. she made faces and didn't shed a single tear about the heartfelt ending. in fact, she may have rolled her eyes. what is this treachery? how can i be expected to maintain a friendship with someone who obviously has no heart???

well, i thought about it, and i've developed a theory as to the heartlessness of dear shifty-eyes. you see, the main character of said book, grace we'll call her (because that's her name), is

*SPOILER ALERT! i'm about to reveal the ending. if you want to be surprised, don't read on!*

a woman. i think that grace's big win in the end made debbie a little apprehensive, as she's an obama supporter:

i think she was a little intimidated when grace actually became president. and while there is certainly no excuse for picking on cute, little grace (i mean, she's a CHILD, and tommy gave her enough trouble already), this goes a long way toward explaining debbie's actions (or blatant lack thereof).

i forgive debbie, though, because she and becky bought me an amazing dinner and an amazing dessert and helped me to freak ira out. (we showed up at his apartment and demanded to be let in. luckily, ira has to be a good host, even if he is scared and doesn't understand what's going on....)

so, good luck, grace! i still support you. and debbie, i've decided we can be friends afterall.

unless i discover you have no soul....

Back from the Motherland (Again) or Suicide Can Kill You

2008-04-01T16:31:00.004-04:00

so, i just got back from israel (again). this trip was very different. i mean, REALLY different than my first time there. for instance, i came back looking suicidal:

but that's neither here nor there i suppose.

i don't feel like writing a long shpiel about it, so instead, i'll just write some random words that describe my time and move on.
so....

random words that describe my trip to israel:

paint

neopolitan back hair

hoes

sunburn

singing

naked squeegee

back flips

g-strings and nipple rings

and that about sums it up.

Mystery Solved! or How I Met Yo Mama

2008-03-31T16:44:00.005-04:00

we FINALLY have a confession!

remember the time some mystery person wrote a comment on my blog? it said something about a birthday, which threw me into a befuddled state because i'm usually so good with birthdays, but i didn't know whose birthday i was missing? 'member? 'member?!?

well, while i was away i received this email:

followed by this email:

so, double ha! not only did i NOT forget a birthday (because my cousin's birthday is on the 12th, not the 16th) but i now don't have to go crazy over the anonymous nature of the posting.

i win! i'm the winner!

of course, it's not about who won (me) or lost (you). it's about the fact that sometimes in life, we are rewarded in the most superfluous ways.

for instance, maybe i did the universe a favor and punched someone who was being annoying. and to balance out this random act of kindness, i then received the knowledge of who wrote anonymously on my blog.

see? the system works.

Brain Rack or Ultimate Nap Time

2008-03-20T15:01:00.004-04:00

the other day, i came home, and i had actual mail. i was SO excited to be receiving personal mail items in this the week of my birth. eagerly, i tore into the pretty envelopes and was confronted by....

1. a bridal shower invitation

2. a save the date for an upcoming wedding

now, don't get me wrong, i am actually happy to be participating in these events. but i am currently less than twelve hours away from turning 26, and it's a little depressing to be reminded about how other people in the world aren't going to die alone. i mean, my parents already had a kid by my age, (her name is mara) and what have i done?

exactly.

i can't even blog on a daily basis, even though it would really annoy my sister, and if that isn't motivation, what is, i ask you?

so. even though my life is crap and sugarless, i have decided to make some goals for the upcoming (enter some amount of time).

GOALS

a.

okay, i'm having trouble coming up with any goals. does one have to have passion about something in order to have goals? where is my drive? all i want to do is take a nap, but that doesn't seem likely at this point (although there is a couch in the hallway for some reason...). why can't i think of life improvements for myself and/or others? what's the deal?

let's slow down. maybe i should start with small goals that i've had for awhile, like obtain fame (not the musical, but of the "and fortune" variety). or buying a fainting goat.

you know, this doesn't seem to be working.

hm....

alright, i've got it.

GOALS

a. sort out life

yeah, i'll let you know how it goes.

This is Not a Pipe or An Afternoon Chat

2008-03-18T13:58:00.003-04:00

oh. hello there. no, no, you aren't interrupting, come on in. really, i insist. don't be shy, come on. that's better.

what? oh, i know, you haven't seen me around much lately....

oh, no! nothing like that, i guess i've just been coping with this crazy thing called life, you know?

yeah? well tell me what's been going on with you.

really?

really?! but you're okay now, right? huh. sorry to hear that....what, me? no, no, i couldn't. i'm kinda afraid of heights, you know?

well, i don't know if i should go into that now. i mean, are you asking because you really want to know or because you feel obligated to do so?

shit, don't get offended! it's a fair question. some people just ask to ask, you know?

don't look at me like that.

no i'm not! i just don't want to waste my breath, you know? if you don't really....hey! how'd that thing go last week?

no, the other thing. with the little guys?

to shreds, you say? that's a shame. anyway, i hate to be rude, but i have to go back to work now.

oh, i know, it's work, work, work all the time these days....

well, you COULD. you just never apply yourself.

what?

fine, but only three.

the answer is obviously yes to that.

only in the afternoons.

hm...that's a hard one.....i guess i'd have to say....spandex. yellow, at best. okay, so i'll see you later, right?

thanks.

you too.

bye-bye now.

Help! or The Trouble with Interns

2008-03-07T13:14:00.005-05:00

personally, i thought the point of interns was to make those of us at the bottom of the ladder feel like we have power over something (anything) at all. i mean, when i was an intern (over six months ago) i did any mundane job thrown at me, and i did it with a smile, dammit! i mean, i guess i still do every mundane job thrown at me, but i'm certainly not smiling now....

our interns are not so obliging. for one, they refuse to do any of the menial tasks that are below the rest of us. i mean, sure, working as part of an assembly line to compile departmental folders is really REALLY boring:

but somebody needs to do it! hell, i'd do it myself if one of the interns would answer my phone while i did them, but they don't want to do that either.

another problem with our rogue interns is that they don't always show up for scheduled meetings. michelle scheduled a time for a couple of our interns to help her with something, and only one of them showed up. her excuse?

oh sorry. i forgot.

we're paying these people!!!!

and then there are the emails. i get emails from our interns (whose names have been deleted for their protection) like these:

and

i mean, come on! they talk to me as though they are in charge of what i should do. and the worst part is that I END UP DOING IT. what's up with that?

lastly, some of our interns don't realize that interning is, like, a job. this means that they have to show up when they are expected, every time. on multiple occasions, this has been a problem.

okay, i'm finished venting:

thanks for sticking by me in these troubling times. maybe as a reward, i won't kill you. (i'm sorry, i'm really jonesin for some processed sugar. it's making me irritable. okay, MORE irritable. )

only 24 more days to go....

The Love Letter

2008-03-03T08:43:00.006-05:00

dear sugar,

i woke up this morning with a buzzing in my head. coming into consciousness, i felt i was missing something, and i wanted desperately to hold onto it, but i couldn't quite recall what it was.

it was you.

i miss you. i miss you like an amputee misses her leg (assuming that's the appendage she no longer has). i miss waking up and having you there, the way you were always waiting with a smile. you always called. you always wanted to hang out, and you never stood me up. not once.

and i know that this is my fault, that i'm the one who drove you away. i insisted upon it, even. you wanted to stay. you said you would never leave me, and you meant it. but i was stubborn. i turned my back on you, and now my head aches and my body yearns for your sweet, sweet goodness.

i see you everywhere i turn. when i open my fridge, you are there. walking down the street, you are there. i see your sticky goodness coating the lips of children everywhere i go, and i long for the half-crazed frenzied look in their eyes.

i remember those highs so well....

the thing is, i miss you. i know, i know, i let you go. and it's only been three days (three days!), but i still remember the way life looked when you were around. now, the colors are duller. people are duller. my life feels...empty.

i wish i could have you back. i want to open my arms and ask you to jump into them. i want to let myself be human and ask you to return to me. but....

i can't.

there's too much at stake. so, i have to be strong, sugar. i have to say no to all of the sweetness and happiness you bring me. i have to accept this terrible headache that has been persisting over the past few days.

i will still smell you on the wind, and when i do, i will close my eyes, inhale deeply, and think:

cinnabon
haagen dasz
that fake maple syrup which is actually made from corn syrup
chocolate in all of its magnificent forms

i will remember you. please, please don't forget me....

love always,
erin

PDB's 24th Birthday or The Wager

2008-02-28T22:39:00.006-05:00

so, today matthew turned 24. in honor of this occasion, mara, barret, chris and i took him out to this psychotic little indian place. no joke, there were four right next to each, two up and two down. bear and i accidentally got dragged into the wrong one, and we almost had to eat there despite the fact that mara and chris were actually waiting a different one.

conversation:

the strange little man: come in, sit down!

us: oh, we're meeting people. *looking around*

tslm: yes, yes, come in.

us: are they here?

tslm: no, you're the first.

us: (having already spoken to mara about how she's there) um.... *glancing at each other*

tslm: where are you going?

us: we, uh, er *bolting for the door*

so then we arrive upstairs and find mara and chris. now, barret describes this restaurant as being a kitten inside a box of fireworks with javan (psychotic older brother of jayanna) standing outside with a match. the restaurant describes it as "where chili pepper lights meets (sic) christmas tree lights". you be the judge:

anyway, after almost having a seizure and/or stroke at the restaurant, pdb eventually arrives and we regale him with birthday love and alcohol (also of the birthday variety). after dinner, we somehow decided that it would be a good idea to make a little wager. let's blame mara, because i think it was her doing.

so, this is how it goes: wouldn't it be interesting for us to each give something up for the month of march? we'll call it march madness, and we'll go a month without said vice. yeah, ha, ha, that'll be fun. these are the things we are giving up:

pdb- shopping and all that incurs. he can still take cabs and buy alcohol. (just one vice at a time.)

chris- coffee. he can have one cup decaf a day.

barret- smoking cigarettes.

mara- eating out. includes buying beverages, other than water.

and me? i'm giving up sugar. i am allowed one serving of fruit a day and that's it. after we made our pact, we all immediately regretted it. but being the stubborn people we are, none of us rescinded. yet. of course, we're not starting until tomorrow. we are each allowed my birthday to indulge in our addiction, so there's a "free" day in there. if any of us make it that long.

i'll keep you posted.

Blocked or How I Wrote About Nothing (Again)

2008-02-24T11:45:00.004-05:00

remember on doogie howser, m.d. how doogie would write clever and meaningful entries on his super-advanced computer at the end of each episode?

yeah, well, i wish i could harness the ever-insightful and easily summed up wisdom of dhmd, as i like to call him, because:

1. i'm into circularity

2. i don't know how the hell to sum up the past few days.

now, i know it's not really my style to sum up, anyway. i'm more of a pick-a-random-happening-and-go-into-way-too-much-detail-about-it person. but, to be honest, i can't think of anything to write about.

let me take a moment to talk about this whole "nothing to write about" phenomenon. ben doesn't believe in writer's block. he says that sometimes he is just empty of ideas. this from someone getting his masters in poetry. i mean, really, how UN-poetic is that? besides, i think saying you don't have any ideas temporarily is the SAME THING as writer's block.

either way, i'm stuck. i don't know how i'm going to finish (start) my screenplay OR the t.v. show debbie and i are "working on" if i don't have anything to write about. i need a muse. you know like josie from the book the immortal:

don't pretend like you don't know what i'm talking about. christopher pike rocked (and still does, as far as i'm concerned).

and on top of the double problem of the screenplay and television series, i can't even come up with a decent blog entry. this is sad.

and the only solution is to peruse the immortal for ideas. i'll let you know how that goes.

The Complete First Season or I Wanna Be KATE!

2008-02-20T21:34:00.010-05:00

so, today i received a very intriguing email. the subject was Dear Friends of Becky. thinking it was maybe an invitation to a surprise party for becky or something, i opened it. it was as follows:

now, i've actually only met kate once. and in that time she and becky were pilfering from my department. (to be fair, i DID open the door and those multicolored highlighters are very difficult to resist....)

but this email made me like her. i mean, REALLY like her. see, there are many things that kate and i have in common. for instance, we both sometimes talk to becky. what's that all about?

also, kate and becky did power hour for valentine's day:

and even though becky wussed out 2/3rds of the way through, kate plugged on. like a champ. i also drank on valentine's day, although it was more of the beer then margaritas then (ahem) more beer variety. also i played darts, which is super fun (although our game went on just a little too long. once you pass the two hour point, it gets old). so, there's that, too. even though that has little to do with kate.

also, kate is in rabbinical school, a long-held dream of mine. well, to be fair, rabbinical school seems like kind of a pain. my long-held dreams are more about actually BEING a rabbi. although, you know, the journey and all of that. i just can't wait to look like this guy:

sometimes my sibs say that i would be a great rabbi. other times, they advise me agin it (when they're feeling like the southern chicken from futurama). either way, kate is living the dream and procrastinating doing her homework at the same time. (this is less like me. i'm more inclined to make someone else do my homework FOR me than laze about for awhile before doing it myself). that is awesome.

i DO like that kate wrote the aforementioned email. that gains my total approval as it was both funny and something i would do. also, writing personal emails while one should be working gets a check plus.

overall, kate deserves some blog space, and i'm happy to oblige. making fun of becky is always a good idea, kate is funny, and debbie and i both got some enjoyment out of that short little email.

so kate, here's to your awesomeness:

Act I or How I Quit My Day Job

2008-02-19T18:41:00.004-05:00

okay, i am finally concluding, as debbie and becky already have, that inextricably linking our three blogs is problematic. i am forced to write, even if i have nothing to say or don't feel like it. it's like a throw back to college. or high school. or middle school. elementary school was alright. beautiful building and all:

but since we can't all be randolph raiders forever, it's time to grow up and talk about grown up things.

i've decided to write a screenplay. i don't know yet what the screenplay will be about, and as far as i know i have no idea how to write a screenplay, but how difficult can it be? i mean, if gigli can be a movie, i can write a movie. plus, we all know that i like to write parts for people, such as:

you: you're thinking of writing a screenplay i hear.

me: yes, that's right. who told you?

you: you did, just now. via blog.

me: wow, word travels fast around here....

as you can see, i'm well on my way. i already know how to break up lines by who is saying them. also, i can do stage directions.

(erin enters from the front room and sits gingerly on the couch, feet up on the glass-topped coffee table. she pulls out the laptop and opens it. mara enters and brings her a drink.)

i've got it! i'll write a screenplay about a girl who starts a blog and how that sets off this whole crazy series of blog-related events and then something happens and it's resolved. brilliant!

wait, no, that other thing. boring.

hm.... maybe instead of writing a screenplay, i will use my witch-like powers to make people do my bidding by writing about it. (example: mara just brought me a drink because i wrote that she would. only, she actually brought it before i wrote that, which is how i knew to write it.). okay, let's try it out....

(annie hsu shakes her head slowly and thinks to herself, erin has finally lost it. i should send her a present. or possibly go visit her. or get her a job at my company.)

now, we just have to wait and see if that worked.....

doo be doo...

dum de dum....

la de da...

zippity do dah?

it's taking too long for annie to do my bidding, which makes me think that MAYBE this isn't working. or, maybe it is and she's just really slow (like in a condescending, wink, wink, pat her head kind of way.) i guess it's on to plan b.

i'll let you know when i figure out what plan b is. better yet, you devise plan b and fill me in later. right now, it's time for buffy.

February 16th or Forgotten Birthday

2008-02-17T14:49:00.008-05:00

usually, i am really good at remembering people's birthdays. this makes a lot of people feel bad for not remembering my birthday, which is just an added bonus, really, because i don't put any effort into remembering birthdays, and they'd have to think about mine to remember it. unlikely, but it's nice that they feel guilty, anyway.

the fact is, i just have a useless brain where i can remember every line from the simpsons and futurama, as well as born on dates of people that i know (or have stolen their wallets, which therefore puts me in possession of their licenses, thus giving me infallible knowledge of their DOBs. or in play doh's case, patrick's DOB since play doh hasn't gotten a new license since his was stolen, but he refuses to miss out on the bar scene just because he doesn't have a "real" id.)

chances are, if i fail to call, text, or send a card on your birthday, it's not because i forgot, rather because i don't like you or you did something to piss me off recently. or i got distracted by something shiny:

this is why it is SO disconcerting that someone posted a message on my blog about her/his birthday. this ambiguous comment has been mocking me because i obviously forgot. to add insult to injury, said person posted ANONYMOUSLY, which is not only annoying to spell while hitting the shift key (yes, yes, i could just push caps lock, but i don't wanna), but also means that i still don't know whose birthday i missed.

let's look at the facts.

fact 1. this person posted a comment mentioning said birthday on february 16th, approximately 8:35 pm. this could mean the birthday in question is february 16th, or it could mean that the birthday just passed, (feb. 15th) and the comment was deliberating on how i failed to remember his/her birthday within the given time restraints, thus totally failing as a human being. OR it could be a subtle hint, like how jayanna always has birthday countdowns so no one is allowed to forget her birthday is july 31st (the same as manda bee's, in case you were wondering), and said birthday is actually today (feb. 17th).

fact 2. a preliminary scouring of the internet (read: i went on myspace, facebook AND friendster) failed to turn up a single friend who has a birthday on feb. 16th (and who is at all likely to read this blog. mike loretto and jodi bloom: happy late birthday! even though, i'm fairly certain you aren't reading my blog....)

fact 3. THIS IS DRIVING ME CRAZY! okay, i'm a terrible person and a bad friend. we all suspected this when instead of thanking my guest bloggers, i insulted them. but i honestly don't remember who's birthday it was yesterday, and for my own sanity, i need to know! this torture is getting us nowhere.

listen, here's what i'm going to do. i'm going to bribe you with promises of birthday cake and/or alcohol. i will provide one, the other, or both of these things to you, anonymous, forgotten friend, if you step forward and identify yourself, thus making me feel better (a face to the forgotten) and worse (how could i forget your birthday? it's so obvious now! kind of thing):

see? i'll even throw in some cigarettes from people who resolved to quit smoking, didn't, but throw out the occasional half-smoked pack in a moment of guilt, but then just go and buy some more the next day. everybody wins!

of course, i can't promise that i won't get distracted by something shiny while on my way to delivering said cake and alcohol (calchol??) and, of course, cigarettes.

i might be a little late....

Truancy or How to Be Late to Work

2008-02-15T09:28:00.003-05:00

i have never been much of a rebel. i mean, sure, i lie a lot (and i mean A LOT. i'm lying right now because i don't actually lie that much. what?), but that's not really rebellion. and sure, i skipped a lot of high school, but high school is lame, and, anyway, there were more fun places to be:

pictured: actual day of skipping class

plus, my parents usually knew that i was skipping. mainly because i told them and/or got truancy notices. but i'm not on trial here!

the point is, i never rebelled against my parents. i never had to assert my individuality by pretending i didn't know them. i didn't even drink in high school, so i didn't have to lie about my activities (even though i could've since i'm such a liar).

but lately, all i want to do is rebel. not against my parents (probably because they approve of everything i do, as long as i'm witty about it), but against life in general. i've been fantasizing today--between writing annoying emails for work--about what it would be like to rebel against my life. here are some things i've come up with (in list form for debbie and annie's benefit. they seem to enjoy lists):

1. going to work late. okay, this seems really tame, and, as you may have read in a previous posting, i can't actually BE late, even when i'm trying. at worst i'm a couple of minutes early. but still, it would be nice to saunter in at 9:15 AM and not even care. take THAT non-profit sector! (of course, leah and i were talking today about how half of our office doesn't show up until 9:30 or 10 AM. one co-worker sometimes gets in at 11 and just kind of non-chalantly walks around in her coat so that everyone can see how late she is. perhaps we should start a who will be the latest to work war....)

2. pushing moms intentionally (and if need be, their annoying children). i am SO TIRED of mothers lecturing me. they lecture me on the subway, over the phone, and in lines about things that aren't even my fault! listen, lady, i know it's not polite to push oneself onto a train. MOVE IN four steps and the people behind me will stop pushing me into your obnoxiously over-sized fur coat. i can see that you have a child, but he's sixteen now, i think he can manage to fend for himself.

3. waking up whenever i feel like it. nuff said.

4. having fun without spending a lot of money. i don't actually HAVE any money, so it's easy not to spend it. having fun, though, becomes difficult, since i need alcohol and/or darts to have a good time. or a dance floor. or spaghetti. yeah, i said it, spaghetti.

okay, i'm tired of this list. but just be aware, if i don't go into work on monday, it's because i'm rebelling against life...

not because i have the day off....

A Day Off! or My New Boots Take II

2008-02-13T13:33:00.003-05:00

i had a dream last night (actually this morning) about how, due to inclement weather, we did not have work today. when i woke up, i was so convinced that this was the case (even though it was only raining, not even snowing or icing outside) that i ACTUALLY called the number we have in case work is canceled due to bad weather, attacks by godzilla, or the coming of the messiah. actually, they'd probably expect us here early for that last one. maybe if the messiah WERE godzilla....

anyway, i called the number (which is actually just the general number here). fingers a-trembling, i dialed the extension that directly correlated with my fate. would i be spared this terrible thing called "work"?

no.

not only was there no message about work being canceled, but the automated voice said that the extension wasn't even a valid one. they disconnected the work cancellation line so that we'd be stuck here forever! i was reminded of that scene at the beginning of joe vs. the volcano.

and then i got back into bed, determined to be late to work rather than early.

that also didn't happen. i dallied as much as possible, but i was still on time. even a few minutes early. it was irritating to say the least (also, to say the most).

so, today womps. but, in order to cast my eyes upon that silver-lining, i feel i should mention one thing.

my NEW BOOTS! okay, they aren't new anymore, but you will be happy to know that they are STILL AMAZING! remember how excited i was about them at first? well, that hasn't worn off. there were tons of those slushy puddles all over the damn place today, but my feet stayed warm and toasty in my NEW BOOTS. i'm glad i spent a ridiculous amount of money on them. so there.

i was going to go into something else, perhaps how i used the word "dallied" and how awkward that is. but meh. i'm already over it.

and you are, too.

Fame! or I'm Gonna Live Forever

2008-02-12T15:26:00.000-05:00

so, most people who know me know that all i want in life is to be famous. some people don't understand this. they say:

they: erin, i don't understand this. what do you mean you want to be famous?

to which i respond:

me: just that. i want to be famous.

and then we have a conversation like:

they: you mean, you want to be a famous actor or singer?

me: no. i mean, i like those things, but they aren't necessary for my fame.

they: so, you want to be wealthy?

me: i could use a little extra cash flow, but i don't need to make that much money. i played MASH yesterday, so i know wealth isn't in my future.

they: so, what exactly is it that you want with fame?

well, let me tell you. i really, really, really can't stand that there are people who i know about who don't know who i am. who are they that they are so important? seriously, i went to a bar awhile ago, and as i sauntered up to the door i saw a familiar looking man standing on the sidewalk, smoking, with a tiny blonde draped over his arm. it took me a second to realize that i didn't know this man, as i initially thought, rather it was heath ledger. i got so angry and indignant about the fact that i knew who he was, even though he didn't have a damn clue who i was that i just turned on my heels and went home.

and now he's dead. thanks for bringing that up. (this is a true story, by the way.)

anyway, people should know who i am. they don't have to love me. it doesn't have to be based on any sort of "talent" or anything. i just want more people to know of me than i know of. this is all i want. fame:

what's the point of all of this? well, my friend, let me tell you.

finally. FINALLY there is a blog out there dedicated to talking about JUST me and becky. that's right! debbie has decided to dedicate her blog to talking about ME and becky. so, after many years of waiting, i'm finally getting what i deserve. a forum for people to discuss me. so go. go and spread the word.

i'll wait here.

Laughter is Contagious or Cover Your Mouth When you Cough

2008-02-11T19:25:00.001-05:00

i think i'm going through another manic phase:

there are some pluses to my manic phases. for instance, if one is going to be manic, it may as well be on a monday, when there is a catchy and annoying bangles song associated with said mood and day for her to then run repeatedly through her head and possibly start humming aloud in order that she may bring others down with her. just as an example, of course.

another plus is that apparently, i tend to pose as jesus when i'm manic:

so that's another good thing.

also, when i'm manic, i'm more fun for a minute. things are funny, even when they aren't and i laugh heartily at jokes, whether they be funny or told by becky or sean. of course, it's a little frightening. what's that you say?

ha. ha ha. ha! hahahahahahahahahahahahahah. a-ha. that's SO HILARIOUS!

see the problem? of course, that picture isn't even me. it's mara, but we look enough alike, and apparently people are so scared of me when i'm manic that they won't even try to take a picture of me while i'm guffawing.

but there are also some problems with my mania. for one, it makes me a little jittery. this is bad because i flail about a lot in general, and if i'm manic, this is exacerbated and then i tend to poke out people's eyes and punch a lot of noses.

this would be okay, but sometimes punched noses bleed, and who wants to clean that up? not i.

another problem with mania is that it is usually quickly followed by depression (see previous blog). this goes back and forth for awhile, and downward spirals aren't really that fun.

actually, that looks pretty fun. maybe i'll go find a downward spiral to slide down before my mania wears off.

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Depression or Escapism is an Art Form

2008-02-07T20:54:00.000-05:00

on my way to work this morning, stomping in puddles and squinting out of my rain-stained glasses, trying not to cry, i was thinking about one of my many (many) superiors, rebecca.

rebecca is quite the social butterfly:

while i sit at home on dark, cold winter nights, rebecca is out gallivanting around manhattan. last night, for instance, she had a date. (i already called dibs if things don't work out between them. and there's a line because this guy is apparently wealthy. we're up to "sloppy fourths" with becky, so take a number.)

sometimes, rebecca has benefit dinners or goes to the gym or drinks (but not with me. she always has an excuse for why she can't do THAT....)

maybe there's something to this "doing things". maybe people who do things with their evenings are happier, or at least less prone to burst into tears than me. maybe if i found a special purpose (but not in that "the jerk" sort of way) i too could somehow make it through the day to day shenanigans that currently make my life a living hell.

becky volunteers. i mean, she just started today, but she feels smug about it, superior and therefore good about life.

becca throws herself into her professional life at her hoity toity company. she makes a lot of money and gets rung by rung closer to the top of that ladder. (i'm sure she'll get there, too.)

i should think about this more. wait for it....wait for it....

okay, so i thought about it. it turns out that this theory only holds true for those named rebecca. therefore i've decided to change my name to rebecca.

no, scratch that. i've decided to get back into my bed until spring. wake me up when the sun comes out.

Spam or Karma Served Hot

2008-02-05T17:16:00.001-05:00

i don't really believe that people gets what's coming to them. sometimes people are assholes, and they are just allowed to be assholes for the entirety of life. and seeing as how i don't believe in heaven or hell. unless you count going to a bar in topeka and running into everyone from high school as hell. and i sometimes do:

i don't really think that the world is balanced like that.

and yet.

i started getting TONS of spam to all of my email addresses. yes, all six of my emails have started bombarding me with the stuff. (i mean, i expect it of you, yahoo, but gmail? my beloved gmail?!?) my cup overfloweth with this crap, and i can't escape the offers to add a couple of inches to my unit, see paris hilton naked, or buy prescription drugs without a prescription. it attacks me from all sides:

secretly, i know why this is happening to me. as much as i have tried to poo-poo the idea of karma as ludicrous (due to the fact that life obviously isn't fair. i mean, matt leblanc had TWO tv shows AND starred in a movie with a monkey. what is THAT?), in recent days i have started to sing a different tune.

i have a confession to make.

my name is erin, and i am a spammer. (hi, erin.)

reluctant though i may be to do this, i do, in fact, send emails out to large groups of people who then email me back hateful responses about how they want to be off my list or they'll come after my children and loved ones. but i don't WANT to do this. and, to be fair, these people did give "me" their email addresses. and (because i'm obviously feeling guilty) i immediately remove people once they ask. and threaten me. three times. but i'm not on trial here!

maybe they are upset with me because i'm not giving them access to naked celebrity videos. maybe they can't read my quirky emails without downing handfuls of the prescription drugs that i haven't offered. at any rate, that bitch karma has certainly come back to flip me the bird.

maybe it's time to apologize and give something back to society for those little bits of sanity that i have stolen from people. or maybe instead, i'll just quit my job and go full time as a spammer.

anyone need any naked pictures of britney offering you drugs to elongate your wang? you know who to call....

End of the Week or Is it Time to Go Yet?

2008-02-01T11:26:00.001-05:00

i find many things perplexing about "corporate america". (i mean, really, there are only ten people in my department, and i'm at a non-profit, so i'm pretty sure that there are some ridiculous things i'm missing out on. but i digress.)

for instance, inter-office mailing up or down two flights of stairs. (of course, once i decided to carry the mail upstairs myself because i thought it so silly, and what happened? i then had to relay a message back to the person who wanted to interoffice mail in the first place. hence, i became a messenger boy.)

then there is the blaming bug that goes around whenever anything goes wrong (inevitably, the bug comes back to bite me or leah on the ass, even though often, neither of us are involved initially).

and recently, ira has started wearing a bow tie more often, which i find offensive on many levels.

but the most perplexing and annoying thing are the emails. i get so, so, SO many emails every day, and some of these emails go back and forth, when a two minute phone call would easily suffice.

let's look at a random day. yesterday because i haven't deleted all of those yet. so, i just counted and i received 83 emails yesterday. 83! and that's just to my personal inbox. (i also check three other mailboxes every day, although most of those just have a lot of advice on how i can cure my erectile dysfunction.)

this is absurd. i don't like emailing at work because it means that i don't want to email my friends and loved ones when i'm not at work. of course, i don't really do that. if i email people at all, it is from gmail, while i am sitting at my desk, wondering when they're going to fire me for doing personal things at work. tomorrow?

anyway, i think this email thing is a conspiracy to isolate every person from every other person in some sick experiment to see how long and to what diminutive quality of life we can live if we have only the minimum amount of human interaction. i'm going to research this.

if i find anything out, i'll email you the details.

Attraction or Pauly Shore is My Hero

2008-01-30T17:17:00.000-05:00

you know how it seems like some people attract certain things? for instance, my brother attracts luck at card games, some people get hit by lightning multiple times in their lives, while my sister attracts the attentions of twelve year old boys like moths to the light:

for the longest time, i thought that there was nothing that i attracted with an invisible pull that others in my family seem to have. small children swarm to my mother, much to their parents' horror, while my dad ALWAYS wins at monopoly (which isn't really the same, but seriously, how can he win EVERY TIME?!?). recently, i found my thing, that thing that will ALWAYS find me, no matter what.

i always hoped it would be the ability to command money to flock to my fingertips, but, sadly, i knew that wasn't the case when i lost a hundred dollar bill a couple of months ago. no, for me, it's jury duty.

i have lived in a total of five states since i have been eligible for jury duty. i've lived in kansas:

texas:

california:

massachusetts:

and now, new york:

in every state, save one, i've been beckoned by the long, bony finger of the law to endure jury duty. now, i got the hell out of kansas two months after i was registered to vote, so i didn't get a summons there. but every single other state! it's ridiculous, i was only in texas for five months.

anyway, i registered to vote about a month ago, and what arrives in the mail last week? something from my good friend gloria d'amico. she had this to say to me:

dear juror:

welcome. you have been selected for jury duty.

the law provides that a collective body of "eligible" citizens shall perform as jurors to determine cases broughts before the courts. Your participation in the jury process helps to insure the individual rights of each citizen.

i recognize jury service can be burdensome, as it may interrupt your personal and business lives. please be assured that we will work within the limits of the law to accommodate varying needs. our goal is to make your service as a juror a rewarding and memorable experience.

thank you for your time and commitment to the new york state justice system.

sincerely,

gloria d'amico

commissioner of jurors

listen. gloria. i know you you're just doing your job. and i'm glad that i am dear to you. but i don't appreciate your italicized and quoted "eligible". it feels like you are doubting my eligibility,

and that hurts my feelings. furthermore, no one wants a memorable experience. that pretty much guarantees that you will be haunted for the rest of your life by the horrors that befell you in the hands of the government.

not good.

lastly, it certainly will interrupt my personal and business life. do they allow booze in the court building? do they cater meals , ordering obscene amounts of food, then let me scavange the leftovers like the ferret that i am? i thought not.

tis my lot in life, i guess to move from state to state, to be called for jury duty (though never picked for a jury), and then sit in a room with a bunch of people watching soap operas all day. and i won't even have postcards with me to glue together.

oh well. i suppose it's better than having to watch jury duty at any point.

ever.

The Price of Education or How'd I Get So Stoopid?

2008-01-29T16:51:00.000-05:00

i am constantly amazed by the kinds of things one needs a college degree to do. let's look at some SHOCKING statistics, shall we?

we shall.

so, my education. i started at pitzer college. at the time, it was approximately $34,000 a year to go there. i went there for a year and a half. cha-CHING! i'll leave out my semester at long beach city college, because it was a negligible amount, perhaps two hundred bucks? yeah. well, then along comes boston college. to go from being a sage hen:

to being an eagle:

is even MORE pricey. for a commuting student, bc costs approximately $35, 284 a year, before the cost of insurance or books. (i was there for three excruciatingly long years.)

granted, eagles are a bit more majestic than sage hens, but still. that's a lot of money. and what does that amount of money get me?

an entry level position at a non-profit.

basically (to borrow leah's favorite term), i needed a $156,852 education (BEFORE books, apt, insurance, etc.) in order to be qualified to do the following:

gluing pieces of paper to the backs of postcards

putting said postcards, along with other materials, into folders

putting stickers on folders

printing obscene amounts of materials onto non-recycled paper

mailing ridiculous amounts of materials to places around the country at no cost to them

getting into passive-aggressive email wars

and, sometimes as is the case, blogging

i GET to do all of this because i have a piece of paper (that i haven't even framed, and that has neither of my two minors nor my major on it) that says i was stupid enough to spend more than 100 grand on my education, even though i don't make even a third of that per year.

brilliant.

On Thin Ice or Why I Hate Squirrels

2008-01-24T18:25:00.001-05:00

today i was enjoying a short walk in central park. it was a little chilly, but, you know, every three days i like to leave the building so as not to go crazy. i mean, i deal with situations like this all day every day, where i get emails like this:

so i schedule a meeting and label it with the only thing that makes sense for this kind of meeting, and get this response:

note that 22 minutes have elapsed between the first and second email. one would think that it was obvious that this meeting was the one that i was asked to schedule. but. that didn't stop the many, many emails that had to go back and forth about this stupid meeting:

it was great. anyway, i thought i'd take a break from my ridiculous job by going for a walk with this guy:

so, we went to central park to enjoy the day. alas, twas not meant to be a peaceful afternoon. some punk-ass squirrel started giving me attitude the second i walked past my old hula-hooping grounds (you know, before they closed the grass for the season). it wasn't enough for the stupid little thing to strut around, even though the fence clearly stated that he shouldn't be there:

but then, as i'm staring wistfully at my favorite, now forbidden spot, he starts giving me attitude, chattering at me and shaking his little fist! so, i look at him and say,

you got a problem friend?

he just continues yelling at me in his strangled little voice, and so i say,

what? bring it on! you're not better than me!

nothing. he refuses to admit that i'm awesome and he sucks.

finally, boaz makes me move on. but i wasn't happy about it. then THEN i had to spend twenty minutes talking boaz out of walking out on the in no way solidified water in the dirtiest pond ever, as he thought it looked fine. it didn't:

we got past that crisis, and i felt okay about life. then, i had to go back to work and (sigh) my microsoft outlook. we used to have a fine relationship, but lately, we've been struggling.

perhaps it's time for outlook and me to get some professional help:

A Perfectly Good Thing to Blog About or Soup

2008-01-17T13:44:00.000-05:00

so, i've been really dry on ideas for the blog of late, which is why the suckage level has been so high. i've been soliciting ideas from other people, but mostly these ideas are stupid. thanks a lot for that.

but, debbie just made a rare appearance in my office, and i asked her what i should write about, and she, too, gave me a dumb idea. ("write about me," she said, "and how great i am." when i gave her a skeptical look, she informed me that it is "a perfectly good thing to blog about." o..k.. )

so, i've decided to do a blog comparison between debbie's suggestion and becky's suggestion which was:

so, here we go: debbie vs. soup:

debbie (pros) soup (pros)

1. lives close by 1. lives IN my apt. v. convenient

2. entertains me at work 2. comes with a cool label

3. nourishes my body (w/alcohol) 3. nourishes my body (w/nutrients)

4. walks to the subway with me 4. warm and tasty

5. (reluctantly) endorsed by becky 5. (majorly) endorsed by becky

okay, i must interrupt myself here. i just wrote to becky to see if she'd "endorse" debbie, you know, because my blog is factual-based and i wouldn't want to misrepresent anyone or anything. so this is how it went:

so, i'm inserting becky into the competition. i'll catch her up here:

becky (pros)

1. hilarious! (but rarely on purpose)

2. loses at scrabulous. a lot.

3. nourishes my body (w/tea or pee. not sure which, but tasted good)

4. goes to lesbian shul with me

5. endorsed by debbie AND soup

to continue:

debbie (pros) becky (pros) soup (pros)

6. shifty-eyed 6. chipper! (poss. con?) 6. delicious

7. makes snide comments 7. says the most random stuff 7. variety. never boring

8. drunk 8. drunk 8. drunk? (w/straw)

well, this is too close to call. i did just spend some time with debbie and becky, and debbie was eating soup, and we already know that becky endorses soup. i guess by their own admission, soup is the best.

soup wins, afterall!

Analgesics or My Headache Makes Me Short-Winded

2008-01-16T15:37:00.001-05:00

today my head feels like this:

it's particularly upsetting because my headache has made my neck all but disappear, my eyebrows bushy and while i like my new skinny arms, my tiny ears have restricted my ability to eavesdrop.

woe is me!

seriously, though, my head has been hurting since the middle of the night. i actually got up to get water, which was a real feat because the kitten from hell is still staying with us. she lurks around every corner....

and i'm less funny than usual because i'm concentrating on how much my head hurts.

lucky for you, this means my blog is going to be really short.

so, i guess there is SOME good news.

No Need to Panic or Soothing Images, as Requested

2008-01-13T09:40:00.001-05:00

i suggested that my friend, seb, read my blog to get a better sense of my life. or, you know, to give me the feeling that i'm not just writing to myself. anyway, his response to my blog was this:

so, as per his request:

and of course, mia farrow herself: