Complaints or Why I'm Up Early on a Sunday

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.

Hooked on a Feelin' or If You Like Pina Coladas

tis not normally my custom to blog on saturdays, as it is my day of rest (yes, i was just taking a cat nap. i can call it that because olive was sleeping next to me on the couch), yet here we are. what could be so important that i need to blog about it RIGHT NOW?

two things, really.

so, today i spent an obscene amount of money on eye care (read: eye exams, glasses and contact lenses) as i am extremely blind and the industry knows that it has me over a barrel. of course, i'm so blind that if they didn't correct my vision, then i wouldn't be able to see what was in the barrel or even the barrel at all, so it wouldn't really concern me. it's in the industry's best interest to correct my vision so i can see the barrel it holds me over and thus it can mock me more effectively.

but i digress.

spending so much money makes me very, very unhappy. very. especially since i didn't spend it on the frivolous purchase of every season of six feet under that i've been eying on amazon. (damn! see how they've got me? i couldn't eye the show if i couldn't see....)

that in combination with thing the second is what spurred on this sabbath day blog. what is that second thing, you ask? this email that i received from madamadam that said:

This would be you right after jumpy unpleasntness. (by which he meant after we de-planed in israel to singing and dancing israelis who made me want to cry. no, really, i was fighting off tears i was so tired and horrified.)

this email was accompanied by this picture:

this made me realize that i am:

a. unhappy a lot
b. very easy to read

let's take a look at some recent evidence of my easily read unhappiness (in order of most recent to least recent)....

in tel aviv


in the august heat

neverending story party (why was camille there?)

graduation. aka the loooongest day ever.

this is why alcohol is a necessity in life. here is evidence of how alcohol equals happiness (in no particular order, as these nights all blur together):

at gaby's

jnfuture. the future of the jewish people, and i don't even know who that guy is.

mara's b-day celebration

mara's engagement

vodka and mani. great idea

so let this be a lesson to you. if you want to take me from:




to:

gimme some:

Speaking in Russian or My New Career

i recently started communicating with my good friend renee again. and, as it turns out, she is now a personal trainer. after much thought, i've decided that i, too shall become a personal trainer. here is why. when i asked renee what exactly it is that she does, she said:

Renee: really i get to make people cry and they pay me for it and then rave to their friends about how much they love me for torturing them i think this is the perfect career.

i agree. this DOES sound like the perfect career. i know what you're thinking.

You: but erin, you hate any physical activity and you don't like to be in any space that in any way resembles a work out area.

you have a point. but i've thought about this, and, really, i won't have to do any of the work. i will get to boss people around without the physical despair. i get to say LUNGE! and they have to lunge. i say one more rep, and then they have to do four more because that's the kind of sadist that i am. HA! also, i like to watch people cry:





isn't that funny?

renee thinks i can make just as many people cry by writing. but then i don't get the joy of causing them physical pain. so we'll see.

speaking of things that will make you cry, i'm going to israel, and therefore i won't be blogging for awhile. awkward, i know, but lucky for you, i may have a couple of guest bloggers to fill in whilst i'm away.

and while i'm segueing so sweetly, let's talk about awkward for a second. i was eating with izzy last night at this place called caracas, which was pretty damn tasty. i had the arepas de pabellon because the special sounded good, but she used the term beef chunks, which izzy so sweetly mentioned reminds her of vomit, and seeing as how i've been followed around by my hangover friend of late, i wanted to steer clear of vomit. so i had the shredded beef instead.

what was i talking about? oh. right. awkward. so, obviously i think everything is awkward. i mean, just the way it looks is TOTALLY awkward, but izzy asked about the etymology of the word awkward. awkwardly enough, i had no idea about its origins. she said it seems like a sort of modern idea, and i concur.

lo and behold, i got this email today:

Erin, The World Wide Web tells me that:

"When awkward was coined, in Scotland and northern England, it meant `turned in the wrong direction.' Middle English had an adjective awk, which meant `the wrong way round, backhanded,' and hence `perverse,' and with the addition of the suffix -ward this became awkward. Awk itself was adopted from Old Norse afugr, which is related to German ab `away' and English off. The suffix -ward, which underlies toward(s), forward, and a host of other English adverbs and adjectives, comes from a prehistoric Germanic *-warth. This in turn goes back to the Indo-European base *wert- `turn' (source also of English convert, version, etc.) -- so etymologically, awkward denotes `turn the wrong way round.' Awkward follwed a similar semantic path to awk, via `perverse, ill-adapted' to `clumsy.'" First recorded 1530. I wonder when it took on its less physical meaning and started being used to describe emotional clumsiness...

What else was I going to look up? Oh well ... have fun in Israel.

so, it turns out, izzy is a "follow-up" person. i should've know, as the only time she's ever flaked on me in the seven years i've known her is when she sliced her finger open and had to get stitches. i know, lame, she still should've come to see me, but whatever.

anyway, leah is arguing in russian behind me and i really need to turn around and see her facial expressions in order to get a good sense of what she's saying. not that she's saying it to me, but i want to eavesdrop.

awkward.