Thursday, June 30, 2011

Quote of the Day


A.B.L.
: "That makes me feel like Marley's poop, but in a good way. You know, really tan, and sometimes shiny?"

Snapshots






Some Beerfest pictures. There's nothing quite like mixing some beer goggles with very clear Stay Away stickers on our backs. What an amazing day! I never would have thought a giant concrete room with plastic tables and different beers could be as much fun as this was. Sure, there were some casualties. Missing sweatshirts, broken cameras, parking debacles forcing us to leave people behind in an effort to eat anything that was not made with wheat, barley or hops... But those are negligible, because did you see the awesome stickers we got?

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Quote of the Day

Angela: "I always try to think of something I would invent if I were rich."

Me: "I have one! You can invent my early retirement. Thank you."

Snapshot


This one, I like to call, OVER SHARING.

But I was dripping sweat last night at the Port Authority and I thought, "Hey! Why not share this with someone else?" No air conditioning is not so great. Being on the third floor? Worse. Jammed in with equally hot strangers? Absolutely disgusting. Engulfed in exhaust heat? See above picture.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Quote of the Day

Carrie: "So I ran yesterday, and today I feel great. My joints feel fully lubed."

Snapshot

This is the face of a normally joyful child when you deny him the joy of pulling your hair. I bet the Hulk had similar trauma's in his past.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Quote of the Day

M.G.: "She is never happy."

A.L.: "At least you aren't me."

M.G.: "Thank the lord for that."

Snapshot


Sonthia finally brought over dog, George, for a change in scenery, some canine bonding, some guilt-free after work socializing. And the whole time, that poor Scottie was praying for his quiet apartment, a reprieve from being chased, and to get that damn Yorkie's nose out of his butt. Everyone leaves with the same complaints.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Quote of the Day

All from Scott:

"My friend writes: 'The sun doesn't give the light to the moon assuming the moon's gonna owe it one....' Wouldn't it be nice for people to realize you can just do something for someone else WITHOUT expecting a return?

I write: 'The sun and moon are both inanimate objects... My pen doesn't ask for things either...'

I hate when people try to anthropomorphize inanimate objects... but apply it to Real Life situations."

Moral: Don't get philosophical today.

Snapshot


This is my favorite bus dude. He passes out almost instantly, his hair wildly awake. I feel like there is an electrified guinea pig perched on the back of this man's chair and I think to myself, "It's gotta smell worse sitting under a burnt guinea pig."

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Quote of the Day

Me: "Beans, beans. They make you..."

Carrie: "Smart."

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Snapshot


Bay view from the Bayville backyard. Bloody brilliant, buddy!

Quote of the Day

Mr. V.: "So I've been taking Vicodin at work, because my stupid coworker is nothing but a ****** whiny complainer. And it used to help. But it doesn't anymore. It's bad when your coworker is so annoying a Vicodin doesn't even help."

True story.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Step Right Up

I realized that when I think of my co- bus inhabitants during our commutes, if I am not able to tune them out, I generally put them in my "freak show" characterization. It helps me dislike them less if I know the rest of the world would side with me. Today, there happened to be an extraordinarily colorful group of characters. I fought the urge to imagine myself standing at a podium in a top hot and wand screaming, "Step right up and meet The Woman Who Is Too Lazy To Shower So She Wear At Least 1/4 Of Her Perfume Bottle."

Or "Check Out The Man Who Is Currently Experimenting On The Effects And Benefits Of An Entirely Curry Diet." And I don't mean curried chicken. I mean curried curry. I think I can go ahead and predict his result post-research period: I felt fine, but there must be a horrible physical disfigurement that I have been rendered incapable of seeing as everyone who comes near me has a look of disgust and tries to climb walls to escape my mere presence."

My favorite of the day? "The Man Who Continuously Puts His Seat All The Way Back Squashing My Purse Into My Lap And The Chair Against My Legs." We did some co-pushing. I like to think that he understood where we were each coming from. He actually kept pushing back so much that the chair snapped. Who would have thought? A 250 pound grown man pushing back on an inanimate object with all of his might could actually break said object. If he had broken my legs, I would have been able to join the circus cast. The chair snapped and was pressing on my legs, but only slightly. I got to choose between standing for who knows how long, or sitting in my seat and pretending that this chair on my legs was a blanket. My nap was a sweet one.

And of course there was the NJ Transit staple: "The Man Who Doesn't Believe In Deodorant But Really, Really Should." I am not sure why there are so many of this particular strain of freaks on the buses. People are only interested in one. Supply and demand! You are ruining your value, along with my ability to breathe.

There is "Wig Woman," "The Shover," "The Hoverer," "The Girl Who Screams On Cell Phone," "The Person Who Sings Out Loud As If They Were Being Asked To Do So," "The Person Who Farts And Thinks He Has Gone Unnoticed," and "The Macho Man Who Curses Out Loud And Mutters To Himself When He Has To Stand Or If There Is Traffic Or If He Receives An Email Or A Text Or His Balance Fails Him Minutely."

Maybe I am "The Girl Who Stands At An Imaginary Podium Insulting Everyone To The Faces And Backs And Hips."

Quote of the Day

Jordan: "What's it called? Firm hands? Touching fingers? Life is good? Oh!! New beginnings!"

Snapshot



Nicole and I out for her 21st birthday. We look like we're the same age, right? I can pass for needing to be carded. I wasn't. But that is so not that point! Look at my nails. Would any self-respecting woman over the age of 21 walk around in public like that? My grandmother told me no.

This is the beauty of New York City. Total anonymity.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Quote of the Day

Robert: "Ya'll and your crazy social anxieties. Hahaha, I'm the poster child for the repression of them."

Snapshot


So imagine this scenario, if you will:

You are tossing and turning. Sleep is difficult. All you want is your pillow to keep cool so you are moving your head around it in search of a chilly spot. And then you need to get up. Water, bathroom, obsessive email check. Three minutes gone, tops. Usually less. And you get back to your pillow that should be completely chilled and ready for you to plop into and ... What is that? A 100 degree puggle heating your pillow from the center out? Yes. Yes it is! I wish my cell phone camera could somehow record the power struggle we have over the warmed pillow once I try to make my way out of bed. There are few things more embarrassing that losing your half of the bed to a 25 pound dog. She really knows how to stretch out though!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Snapshot


Today is the day Omayra gets to move! I say it like the process can be a pleasure. Maybe with unlimited funds and some wildly attractive pool boys. I mean, movers. Topless movers. But other than that, it's always a struggle. But hers is especially interesting. Her two and half year old son is really exuberant about moving. In fact, Julian has been more than helpful with throwing things into boxes and temporarily parting with his toys. But a two and a half year old with pent up adrenaline is almost a deadly weapon. And Liam, at eight months of age, can only react with screaming with the packing tape is being used. Which is, like, always! Packing staples get way too bloody, buddy.

Then there is the cherry on top of this move, which is that her fiance recently underwent knee surgery, is limping in a leg stabilizer and just really cannot help the way things need to be assisted. Then, there is the fact that they chose this day, Wednesday, to be out of their current place. 100 percent moved out. With two kids, an injured partner, friends and family at work, one rented truck, three hours' time for two paid movers, a full set of stairs, an awkward catty corner to try and shuft furniture through, tons left to pack because packing with toddlers can only be so comprehensive... Phew! Did I mention she is tiny? We were joking last night how she may be strong, but throwing the couch on her back isn't going to happen. She would get a few steps further than her original starting point. Quickly get closer and closer to the ground. We'd find her napping peacefully under the couch hours later, smile on her face.

And still, with all of that clearly happening, I can't help but laugh at her "Radom" box. I carried it like it was a cross between a radioactive box of Radon and items that probably should have been thrown out. So radioactive tchotchkes. Makes me laugh every time. Because if you are not laughing, that couch on your back might actually start to hurt you.

Quote of the Day

Me: "Can you tell me something legitimately happy please?"

15 minute pause...

Scott: "No."

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Snapshot



How do I put this tactfully? I found an adult rooster on my lawn. Here he is. And no. I did not start texting a few ever-patient people exclaiming my most recent find in my not most politically correct vernacular. What kind of person do you take me for?

Quote of the Day

Josh: "I get up at 5 every morning and jog for two hours."

Me: "What a coincidence! I get up five minutes before I need to leave, jog to the bus stop and then sit in traffic for two hours!"

Monday, June 13, 2011

Doh!

Imagine the peace and serenity that could envelop you in a clear glass bathtub. Here.


And if that doesn't do it for you, imagine your dog running twenty miles an hour into it.

Snapshot



Mojo can be so quiet and calm and still and peaceful. Zen really. And then I realize I am looking at a photograph and my heart is actually racing, subconsciously in time with Mojo lapping the apartment- tongue out, heavy breathing and a constant whinny of sorts.

Quote of the Day

Me: "My shoulder hurts."

Carrie: "Your face is killin me. hahahaha"

Me: "That is much funnier NOT over IM.... but that's not saying so much."

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Snapshot


An inebriated Harry Potter. I'm betting J.K. Rowling spent a few nights at home like this.

Quote of the Day

Scott: "I routinely shoot down architects that want dates. But I do it in an extra mean and soul crushing way. I might change my middle name to soul crusher. Or maybe Dreamsmasher."

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

What A Weekend - Part 2

My phone rings at 5 o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday, and I hear an almost frantic voice breathing heavy on the other side of the phone. I feel the need to condense this story as I have gone over it at least five times over the past two days, and reliving it makes me frenetic all over again. In a nutshell, my friend Maureen's son Tristan decided to run away with his friend. Two eleven year old boys. No cash, no phones, no maps, no clothing, no plan. What is so scary about this is that when I look back on my "runaway" attempts, they were always in the heat of the moment. Mid-fight, one foot out the door and I would bolt. And I would get two blocks away and just know that every additional step I took would yield a bigger and bigger punishment.

And I would walk inside, shrugging off the accusations. "What? Me? Run away? You thought I was serious? I was just going for a three minute jog. It's what I do now." What is so scary is that this was not a "crime of passion." This was an, at least slightly, premeditated and very deliberate plan to leave home and loved ones in search of a life where "...we can be comfortable and, like, not get yelled at anymore." I grimace to call it a plan, but I guess that is what it has to be called.

Over five hours. FIVE HOURS. Of gut wrenching, worst case scenario's running through my head. His mother was pacing her house frantically answering every call and more than likely ready to collapse every time it was not her son. We had gathered an unofficial search party of almost twenty friends and family members. We scoured every local store and restaurant, a terrifying creek, I drove slowly over the railroad tracks almost afraid to open my eyes and see anything at all. We checked parks, called school and boy scout rosters, had melt downs, spoke to every kid we could find. And then there was the official search party. Dumont Police were efficient and supportive and immediate and expansive and if I baked, I would bake them what would be a low fat yet delicious alternative to fried donuts. After five hours of searching and holding back tears and not holding back tears, my friends Suzanne and Katie found the boys walking back towards the house on the side of a road in a town that is not next door, that they were not at all familiar with.

The call to my cell phone saying that Tristan was found was the best call I have ever gotten. I totally felt like jogging for about three minutes. When the dust settled, I had the opportunity to speak to Tristan. I wanted to know his motives, I wanted to know if they accidentally played catch with used hypodermic needles or wrestled in poison ivy or spoke to anyone other than themselves. I hope that Tristan understands the love and support he has and that he need look no further than his phone book to find whatever he may be looking for. Unless it's a used hypodermic needle. But I don't know everyone in his phone book...

After all was said and done, Carrie slept for eleven hours. Omayra went home and without even knowing what was happening, she threw up from pent up stress all day long. I couldn't even drive myself home. I curled up on a floor and prayed for the room to stop spinning. I figured I could throw extra prayers out there since the only one that mattered had been answered. Once my world stopped spinning, I started combing through my hair looking for the whites. I feel them brewing inside of me. But a funny for you:

Tristan: "Well, we passed by a Lottery Store and we wanted to go in, because we were, like, thirsty and stuff. But I decided that we couldn't go in. Not even to get a bottle of water. Because then the guy inside could turn us in."

Me: "Turn you in? What does that mean?"

Tristan: "You know, like either he would take us to the orphanage or bring us back to our owners."

I hear Tenafly has an insane orphanage over-flow issue right now. Good thing he thought that one out.

Quote of the Day

Roxana: "How was your weekend?"

Me: "Ahh, I aged this weekend. So much drama."

Roxana: "Oh! I thought you meant I missed your birthday!"

Snapshot


This was taken on a dark day. In a dark tunnel. With a dark phone. But it was a defining moment- or maybe about seventy minutes. I realized that with a flash of some plastic, a little yellow death machine is willing to save me from a thousand person line with no ventilation and drop me off at a friend's house on the other side of the river.

After I paid- while pretending one of those zero's wasn't really there- I got out of the cab, waved at my friend and very dramatically dropped to my knees and touched New Jersey asphalt. Mmmm.... less dirty.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Quote of the Day


Jordan: "ifhyaeyl"


Me: "If feeling hot yields anything extraordinary, you'll learn?"

Jordan: "I 'friggin'' hate you and everything you love."

Me: "But I love you..."

What A Weekend

This weekend chewed on my nerves and spit out what sits here typing away. I figure that remembering this weekend may bring other situations into focus.

It started with my Friday evening nap taking over my entire Friday night. The dogs are always too willing to curl up next to me and sleep. So one night down. But after working and commuting over 12 hours every day last week, I am pretty sure my body was making the decision for me in the never ending conundrum of Social Life VS. Pneumonia.

Saturday morning, my friend Melissa and I went to an introductory class all about learning how to use your SLR camera. The one that I thought I bought myself for turning old this past year and now it sits on top of my shelf staring at me all the time as a reminder that at some point in my life, I am going to have to overcome my debilitating fear of manuals and actually sit down to read one. We arrive to the classroom, kept at a brisk 45 degrees with blasting air conditioner, for what I believe was that the owner of the building is under the misconception that any of us have actual film in our cameras and that the rest of the town was enveloped in flames so he wanted to keep someone's film cold. He done good. But after sitting down, I learned that I, in fact, do not have an SLR camera and that my advanced "Point-And-Shoot" would not be addressed at all in this class. So I spent what turned in to two and a half hours learning how to use a camera that I do not exist. And towards the end of the class, the teacher started asking if anyone was sweating. I broke into a cold sweat just thinking about the air getting cooler.

Melissa later pointed out that I was still severely sun burned from last weekend's Memorial Day beach outing where I skimped and saved on my SPF 70, and now my chest looks like that of a seventy year old's. I think she may have taken some sample pictures in class.

More to come. I just am not ready to get everything else out right now. It's still sprouting from my scalp...

Friday, June 3, 2011

Quote Of The Day

Charleen: "Want to come over and try some cheese stuffed pickles?"

Me: "Yes. You had me at pickles. And also, way before that."

Snapshot


I call them: Blurry, Happy and Blue.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Quote of the Day

Me: "Carrie! Want to punch her!"

Carrie: "Do it! I triple dog dare you."

Me: "I am not Shaun."

Carrie: "But if you look deep inside yourself and work on your acting skills, you can be."

Me: "It probably wouldn't take too much to get into character. A buzzer, some magic markers and a few shots of... testosterone."

Carrie: "Do it!"