i’m baaaack

August 20, 2009

Finally!  I’m back!  No more lying around watching tv all the time, bored out of my mind, in excruciating pain.  I’m back to my apartment in NYC, living alone (NO MORE PARENTS hovering 24/7), am able to smoke my cigs to my heart’s desire. 

I’m on crutches with this big ass boot on my foot, or my robofoot as my friend named it.  And it’s pretty amazing how New Yorkers are reacting to me.  As anyone who has lived in the city knows, New Yorkers can be real fucking assholes.  It’s one of the things, if not the thing I love most about the city. Having a bad day?  Call a stranger an asshole.  Someone bumps into you on the subway?  Elbow them right back.  Someone gives you a weird look?  Tell them to fuck off.  You can do it, and no one gives a damn because it’s New York, baby!   There’s always someone ruder, crazier than you.

But now, I’m seeing the nice spectrum from New York.  People just want to help me out.  I don’t have to ask to get someone to open a door for me, they just run on over and do it.  People smile and tell me to feel better.  Someone told me I’m pretty fantastic on my crutches this morning – hell yeah I am!  I can navigate dog poop on the sidewalk, carrying my Dunkin iced coffee in a plastic bag, while looking cute as a button.  But this whole thing also brings out the crazies.  Yesterday I was trying to pass a woman in her full flannel pajamas in the 90 degree heat (hello nutso) who told me that she had a few stitches in her mouth so she “understood my pain.”  WTF?  A few stitches in your mouth?  Do you want to see all the stitches in my ankle right now?  I have 6 two-inch long incisions in ankle.  I don’t think you have any freaking clue what I’m going through.  Another person tried to give me his used water bottle because “I looked like I needed a drink.”  Um, thanks dude but I don’t want your mouth herpes. Who the fuck would accept a used water bottle as a gift.  Another dude told me that my ta-tas looked amazing.  Yeah, well, I already knew that but thank you..in fact I’ve heard that quite a bit since I’ve been back because on crutches, I have to lean over to get around.  Already, I’ve got big girls on a little body, almost comic like, so my girls are really hanging out.  Maybe that’s why the men are so eager to help me out.

It’s nice to see the good in the New Yorkers but I know that one day, some asshole will probably be having  a bad day, and is in a rush, and he can’t get around my slow ass on the sidewalk and kick the crutches from right out under me and I wouldn’t be suprised one bit.  It’s New York after all.


blah dee blah blah

August 8, 2009

not a single new thing to say.  still pretty much bedridden.  still so fucking bored.  still sucking at life.  oh! my laptop got totally fucked by a facebook virus and i had to wipe out EVERYTHING i had on there and reinstall windows.  awesome, right?  yeah, that’s about all the excitement around here.  another saturday night and i’m just hanging around, in bed, foot elevated, and bored out of my freaking mind.

Dying of Boredom

July 25, 2009

I wonder if it’s possible to die from boredom.  If it is, I’m going to find out reeeeal soon.  I had reconstructive surgery on my ankle and am now on day 16 of being in bed with my foot up.  Let me say that again….SIXTEEN DAYS of sitting in bed doing basically NOTHING.

I watch tv.  I browse the net.  I play the SIMS.  I read.  That’s it.  Everyday I change my underwear and brush my teeth – but oh, I have to do both of those activities IN BED because I can’t get up.  I have to save the energy to get up to use the potty. 


I don’t even have the energy to talk on the phone anymore.  I tried for a little while to pick up a few phone calls and make a few calls, but now, I just can’t.  First of all, I have nothing to say to anyone. When someone asked if I did anything exciting and I respond that I changed my nightgown that doesn’t really lead to much conversation.  And then if the person on the other end has a lot going on I get resentful and bitchy.

Oh, and let’s not even get started on the part about having to stay with my parents right now because I need 24 hour assistance.

In short, this blows, and I am seriously ready to die from boredom.  Bring it.  I can’t handle this shit anymore.  I am THIS CLOSE to poking my eyes out just to get some excitement around here.  AAAHH!!!

Party of 5

July 21, 2009

Lately I’ve been watching of Party of 5 on Hulu.  Shut up, don’t make fun.  First off, am I the only one who finds Hulu’s website to be the biggest bitch ever to navigate?  Why can’t they have better search terms and have it categorized better like:  “if you were born in the 80’s, you watched these shows.” which is exactly the category I want.  Because Hulu does not have what I want – like Blossom, Clarissa Explains it All, and Salute Your Shorts.  Salute Your Shorts! I freaking loved that show.  I went on vacation last month with a friend and I sang the Camp Anawanna theme song the whole time – I’m sure it was not annoying AT ALL.

Anyways, back to the Party of 5.  So yeah, I’m bedridden right now from a surgery and have been for over a week now and I still have weeks to go.  I’m bored folks!  Daytime tv blows.  After 9 am Sesame Street, nothing interests me.  So I’ve turned to Party of 5 and am feeling really nostalgic.  I was watching it yesterday and thinking about Jennifer Love Hewitt.  Remember when she was just that cute and sweet chick from that show and not that big boobed liar who says she’s a size 2 (as if! we all saw that dimply ass).  And then there is cute little Lacey Chavet (sp??) playing Claudia – oh my god, I remember first watching this show and thinking how cool that chick was except why couldn’t they get someone less toothy?  Talk about horsey.  But seriously, that show is SADCAKES.  And so not realistic.  No 5 kids would ever be allowed to stay together if their parents died.  I don’t care how well adjusted they are. Not gonna happen.  So yeah, I’ve been having fun with it, but it’s time to move on.  I need a new show. And like I said, Clarrisa Explains it All is not an option.

Pandora rocks.  We all know that.  And if you don’t, you don’t belong here so move along fella…go check out another blog.  We don’t like your kind here.

Anyway, back to Pandora.  I have this radio station that I have been meticulously fine-tuning for almost a year now.  It is the only thing I listen to on Pandora.  It all started with a Bob Segar song – “You’ll Accompany Me.”  one of my alltime favorite songs – top 5 without a doubt.  Nothing gets my lady juices flowing like that song.  Nothing.  I have this pathetic little fantasy that some dude will one day declare his love to me by playing me this song, and then I will marry that man.

Back to my mix.  I love it.  I agonize days over what artists to add to the station.  If I really like a song, I wait until the last possible moment to give that sucker a thumbs up because I know that whatever move I make will completely change my masterful mix.

Anyway, I haven’t done ANYTHING to my mix in a few days. Yet today, it is so different.  And I hate it.  It’s been nothing but Beatles, The Eagles, 112 made an appearance (who the hell are they? Some freaking boy band???).  The point is, I think someone hacked my pandora mix and added their terrible taste to it.  And it makes me want to punch my computer and anyone within 3 feet of me.  Pandora made work not only bearable, but GOOD.  Like real good.  I could sing, hum, shake my hips.  But today, it’s all gone.  All that hard work down the drain cuz some fucker messed with my mix.

Whoever did this is a total jerkface.

Please don’t die

July 5, 2009

I am so sick and tired of hearing about Michael Jackson.  It’s like everyone forgot about what a fucking weirdo he was.  The Michael Jackson who made good music, and moonwalked our hearts away died when he miraculously turned into a pointy nosed white boy with a penchant for little boys.  Since I’m apparently a heartless bitch for having this point of view, I want to share with the internets that I do, actually, have feelings.  Here is my list of celebs, in no significant order, who if they died, would turn me into a weeping mess:

Knut the Polar Bear (once was cute and is now a killing machine – FIERCE!)

Joel McHale (cute + funny = gold)

Homer Simpson (d’oh!)

Sig Hansen (Captain of the Northwestern on Deadliest Catch – what a fucking bad ass!)

James Taylor (the man’s music makes my cold cold heart warm)

Anderson Cooper (The Coop! I saw him in person once and that silver fox’s hair sparkled like diamonds)

Spongebob Squarepants (who else can live in a pineapple under the sea?)

Any of the Real Housewives of New Jersey (those crazy bitches are the best thing that’s happened to tv in ’09)

Alright – so I only have 8 here  – but I’m telling you guys, this list can go on and on and on.  Who’s on your list?

single life in nyc

July 2, 2009

Let’s just face it. Sex & The City is a lie.  Singledom in NYC is not all goings out and pretty dresses and girly pink cocktails.  It’s work.  And I’m sick and tired of it.

I’m sick and tired of dolling myself up, going out, getting hit on by some guy who I suspect is a player so I don’t give him my number only later to question my decision.  So next time I go out not only do I give the guy my number, but I give him a lot more.  8 hours later and the sun is up and he’s still under my sheets and I want him to get the hell out.  You know, sometimes a one night stand is all I want, but some little bit of moral la-dee-da gets stuck in my head and all of a sudden I’m calling myself out as a whore.

So here I am, let’s see, probably 10 months without sex.  TEN.  It could be worse, sure, but it could definitely be a hell of a lot better.

So do I go out, try to find someone for some one night fun, and break the spell, or do I do what I’ve been trying to do – and that is actually find a partner, someone to hold hands with, sleep in Sunday mornings and order in pancakes, picnics in Central Park, kisses on Park Ave. 

Maybe my problem is lazyness.  I’m just too damn lazy to date in NYC.  I want my man and I want it now and I don’t want to search for it.  Dating is no fun, I’m not good at it.  I’m good at relationships and I’m good at one night stands.  The in betweens don’t work for me. 

So the solution?  Still working on it, but at least I’ve got my vibrator to tide me over.

New beginnings

June 28, 2009

These past 8, almost 9 months have been all about new beginnings.  I feel like I’ve been secretely, privately navigating a new life.  I’m a twenty-something Jeckyl & Hyde: nasty & sweet, dirty & innocent, used & pure, was & is.  It’s a struggle to stick to one side, the right side, to keep the was in the was and the is in the is.  It’s a daily battle, sometimes down to the minute.  I think for most the goal is simple – to be the good, to be the right.  But me?  I don’t know what the good or the right is.