new excuses for lateness!

i spotted this health ad on the subway today (the following advice was accompanied by a photo of some nasty looking, pollen coated little plant):

pollen counts are highest between 5am and 10am.
stay indoors if you can.


so come april, i suppose my work arrival time will be sometime around noon.

what's playing.

when i first heard about vampire weekend i got all excited about the vampire part of the band name, how fun it is, imagine a weekend with a bunch of musical vampires?!, blahblah. i of course never got around to listening to them, and in the past weeks got all caught up in the hype/backlash/constant buzz about the band and wound up resorting to my "you're overexposed and so now i hate you" stance with them (cutesy name and images and all).

after an accidental listen i got hooked...andddd i've been enjoying the vampires all week now.

--------

two other entries in the "music i'm into this week" category:

the raveonette's "aly, walk with me" - puts me in the mood for a tarantino movie marathon.

bob mould's "again and again" - the lyrics kinda make you want to cut your heart out and put it in a cabinet (i mean that in the nicest way possible).

going bananas.

i hadn't noticed it, but i guess i've been eating a lot of bananas lately.

mother donated a bunch to me, and then whilst grocery shopping the other week i picked some more up, since i knew a wisdom teeth extraction was on my horizon and i'd probably want a soft fruit around. and then the following week my mouth still felt a little tender, and so i bought more bananas...

but i wasn't aware of all this. until today, one of our interns was in my office, and a banana, my future breakfast, was sitting on my desk, and the girl said to me "you really like bananas, huh?"

which means that i am now the creepy banana girl and i can't have any more until july.

no justice for norton juster.

and where is The Phantom Tollbooth?!



harumph.

odd couple of the week.

this week's award goes to....

donny osmond and martin lawrence.

two men i didn't think my brain could ever associate together.

which is why i thought my 2+ plus weeks on antibiotics, decongestants, painkillers, and beyond* was finally catching up with me, and that i was hallucinating this morning when the below poster caught my eye as i walked to work. was that...donny osmond behind that pig in the front seat? noooo....but yes, after extensive research i discovered that these two are indeed starring in a movie together.








i almost want to see it (that could very well be all the meds talking).

*don't worry readers! i'm not trying to off myself. the sinus infection ran its course into last weekend's wisdom teeth removal - fun, fun times over here lately - and a wide variety of medicines needed to be prescribed to bring my face back to normal (which should happen by sometime in march). i of course checked with my regular physician before taking all of them at once, since, you know, to quote the recent advice from my office sage, "heath ledger and all".

thoughts on karaoke.

i don't karaoke very much - not because i'm against it (although you most definitely do not want to hear one of the ___ sisters attempt to hit a high note), but i just generally don't seem to find myself in karaoking situations.

however i did this past sunday, when we had an outing for a friend's bday, and as luck would have it, the bar that she picked due to its amazing jukebox was having a karaoke night (amazing jukebox was therefore turned off). now as i said, i'm not an expert on the field since i don't do it very much, but the few times i have done it, the exact same slightly annoying/baffling things have occurred.

1. the evening started off with a girl's rendition of celine dion's "it's all coming back to me now". WHY would you pick this song? does anyone really want to listen to celine dion in a bar (besides my mother)? the rest of us can't sing along to it, or drunkenly dance around to it, and frankly, its a downer. no one wants to listen to depressing songs when they're drinking*. so that leads me to believe that the only reason she picked the song is because she sings it well.

which is my 2. she did sing it well; she hit every single note - which is great for her and all - but shouldn't karaoke be about the rest of us? the great equalizer for the general populace who can't hit the high notes, who can only harmonize well to songs by the ramones and young mc**? if you can sing that well you don't need to be singing to a bunch of wasted bar patrons, who will cheer you on simply because you did an inspired little jig to "rebel yell". you should be trying out for american idol, where i imagine the judges will better appreciate your lovely voice and your sissy little ballads.


*have you ever been intoxicated at a coldplay concert? yeah...weeping ensues.

**"bust a move" is a song that missy and i are convinced we can handle, along with salt-n-pepa's "shoop". we won't even need the teleprompter for that one.

holiday greetings.

as we all know, today is valentine's day.

as we all might not know, today is also ferris wheel day.

years back i discovered this, and never one to care much about V-day*, whether single or in a relationship, i fully embraced the fact that i could celebrate another holiday - a more entertaining-sounding holiday - instead. i managed to get a couple of friends on the ferris wheel bandwagon, and there's been a select little group of us celebrating the holiday ever since.

so where am i going with this, since i make it a point not to talk about my personal life on here? well, i'm making a slight exception today, since i have time on my hands and a holiday story** that i've always felt warranted a little commemorative spot on the internet.

***

it was 2 years ago, february 14th. i was single, missy was single, and a good friend of mine (A., for the remainder of the story) was single, and so we plotted for a night out boozing. A. and i met up first at this bar downtown and settled down at the bar. by the second drink, we had made friends with the bartender as well as this guy, Jose, who was sitting on the other side of A. (an apparent regular at the bar), and were all chatting. during this time, another guy, we'll call him the musician because the fact that he was one factors prominently in this tale (and i forgot his name, sadly), settled in to the right of me, and before long was swept up in our conversation.

well, by the time missy arrived at the bar a little later, our group had become BFF - taking pictures together, swapping war stories, etcetc. missy joined right in on the fun, and even wound up sketching a picture on a napkin for the musician. the musician wound up taking a bit of a liking to me, and so when i revealed my belief in ferris wheel day, he promised that he would perform a ferris wheel day song for me, if a little later on we would accompany him to this open mic shindig he was going to. we agreed, and so at some point later there we all were, traipsing to this other bar to watch this complete stranger sing a song about ferris wheels to me.

and he did. and i know you're sitting there saying "oh cliché! girl falls for boy who can sing to her". but frankly, i'm not the sort of girl you sing to -- i find that more creepy than cute, and i'd probably snicker at you the entire time. and so i wasn't completely entranced and blinded by the promise of this song, but i must admit when the time came i was quite pleased to be serenaded with a tune about a basically fake holiday that this guy just found out about a few hours early but would sing about it simply because i had immense enthusiasm for it.

fast forward to later in the evening, bar #3 - our little group of strangers is finally disbanding and missy goes to hail us a cab. as i'm saying my little goodbyes to the musician (i.e., drunkenly making out on the corner) and as he was without cell phone for the night, he had me write my number on his hand. getting into the cab i knew that number would not be legible after a few minutes and so i chalked it up to an interesting february 14th and mentally bade him well.

***

2 days later, i come home from work and there is a message on our answering machine in our apartment - and its the musician. the musician who i gave my cell phone number to. turns out, as i predicted, the number rubbed off his hand, and dismayed and wracking his brain to figure out how to find me, remembered that missy had signed her name on the little drawing on the napkin that she had done for him. once procuring my last name from the napkin, he looked me up in the hopes i was listed - and so i was. and we made a date to hang out that weekend.

this was one of those stories that made my friends swoon. everyone was eager to find out what romantically ridiculous thing would happen next.

and wouldn't you know - nothing. day-of supposed date, i didn't hear from him. and never since.

but at least i got a pretty great ferris wheel day story.

***


*except for conversation hearts. i really really like those.

**this story was originally meant to be included in a 2006 roundup of loveandcyanide's ridiculous experiences with men, since '06 was a year that was fraught with such experiences, and missy was working on a humorous month-by-month account of the nonsense. this would've been the february story. of course we got sidetracked and missy never finished it and just wound up stopping her contributions to the site altogether, and so here i am writing this giant post two years later.

a snowy, fruity, fantastic voyage.

4 things i am loving today:

1. SNOW! - i won't be excited when i walk outside in it in my non-snow-appropriate shoes, but it has looked really pretty coming down outside my window all day long. it finally feels like winter.
2. Yogi Tea, "Breathe Deep" variety - yes, i'm the dork who buys tea that claims it can help you breathe better. but it really does. and it also leaves a nice tingly feeling in your mouth.
3. Mutant Grapes - well, not really. but this bunch i'm snacking on are the largest green grapes i've ever seen. if disguised in a purplish wrap, they would totally pass for figs.
4. Coolio's new online cooking show - needs no explanation.

week, end. please.

i've mentioned the receptionist in my office before - a sweet lady, but slightly incompetent/something's a little off.

and if you'll recall from my 'award-winning cough' era in late 2006 (boy that statement makes loveandcyanide feel old!), she's always taken an interest in my health and well-being.

**

so yesterday i had to leave early for a doctor's appt as i was still languishing in illnessville from earlier in the week (diagnosis: sinus infection. thank goodness for antibiotics and their ability to make the bass that was pounding in my face stop). in my office, people tend to send around a company-wide "hey, i'm leaving early" or "hey, i'm out sick/coming in late/etc" email, which i sort of hate doing because it makes me feel like i'm soliciting "feel better!" emails when i'm just making a statement about where i'm off to, and i honestly don't care for everyone to know about my business and whereabouts to begin with, but i suppose it makes life easier in terms of knowing that someone isn't at their desk in the case that you need them (of course this doesn't prevent some idiot, usually the same idiot, leaving a voicemail saying "hey, where are you??").

**

so i send my little "i'm off to the doctor - see ya tomorrow" email and off i go. when i finally get back to my apartment last night and check through the emails i missed, as predicted, i have a few nice "feel better!" responses. topping them all, topping any email i received in the past month, is the response from my receptionist. i reprint it here in full, because my summarizing it won't do it justice:


I lucked out at not getting sick this year: Here is my unsolicited, non professional medical advice:

I eat beans and brown rice -no pork- about 3 days out of the week
I eat pea soup - home made- 2 days out of the week
I eat grapefruits and/or oranges 5-6 days out of the week during the winter (a new strategy that's working! makes me think of Florida and California when I eat them!)

I eat a lot of baked potatoes - i have no idea what that does - probably keeps me away from the ice cream.

I take a multi vitamin, iron and calcium and hair, skin and nail vitamins. Ask your real doctor about these. Heath Ledger and all, ask the real doctor before taking any of these!

I take 2 10 minute walks 5 days a week. I weight train twice a week for half an hour. I squeeze in an aerobic video tape when I think of it.

There are a lot of foods that tempt me! Some days I give in. Some days I don't. On those days I try to do an aerobic video tape or take a longer walk.

what to do about forwards.

i don't know why i thought the whole email forward thing was a teen fad, and that once i was an 'adult' in the 'real world' that my inbox would stop getting clogged with these things. no. in the past hour i've received three.

and its not like i don't care about the potential new computer virus, the little girl with cancer or the child who has been missing since 2006 - its just that i do not for one second believe that me passing along a message about it to everyone i've ever known is going to do ANYTHING about it.

am i wrong in thinking this? just being my cynical, bitchy self? and if not, why the hell am i surrounded by so many people who can't see it the same way? i love one of my aunts dearly, but if i get one more of these inane emails passed along from her i'm going to be forced to block her email address.

balancing act.

forgive us for slacking in the writing dept, but loveandcyanide has been under-the-weather this week.

and while being apt-ridden the past two days during crappy rainy february may kinda sound like fun, believe me, it was not. our internet decided to cease working and due to throat pain/the fact that i sound pretty much just like patty or selma from the simpsons (you can choose), chatting on the phone wasn't an option either. and so left with little ability to interact with the outside world, and with feeling like absolute crap, and with just being generally frustrated with a varied mix of people/places/things in my life, i threw about 19 temper tantrums in the past 36 hours. its been a blast.

but, as the universe is wont to balance itself out, there have been a few bits of wonderfulness from the past few days...

• waitress*
• slathering bananas in nutella when missy wasn't home to yell at me for eating bananas in the apartment
• puppy bowl IV (and the kitty half time show too!)
• the occasional small-town charm of dive-y Staten Island bars, and the old men that frequent them
  
• learning to like soup
• the last few chapters of the united states of arugula
• brand new pajamas that i need to wait until its warm out to wear
• eddie izzard tickets!

*really, i wasn't expecting much at all from this movie and it was just lovely.

showers wash all my cares away.

as my NYC readers will know, its pouring out today.

whenever it rains, i get the song i love a rainy night by eddie rabbitt stuck in my head. i was a huge fan of the tune as a kid, and i can vividly remember bouncing around our apartment to it. this morning i tracked it down online, and have listened to it about 20x already in an attempt to reverse the effects that this super dreary day had been having on me.

it's working. and i've also come to the realization that i really really really enjoy songs that involve finger snapping.

hitting our terrible twos.

happy birthday to us!

loveandcyanide turns 2 today, and to mark this momentous occasion i decided to FINALLY get our act together and revamp the site - that was my intent for our first birthday, and well, we took the easy way out and instead just babbled about salty pea snacks. and then a whole year passed. funny how that happens, huh?

we hope you guys like the new look (we do, so if you don't, oh well). it reflects our personalities much more than those stupid generic dots ever did, and most importantly, since we are getting old, it's easier on the eyes. MUCH easier on the eyes. i had no idea that keeping up with this little endeavor of ours was probably making me blind...

i like my lunch to come from inconspicuous places.

overheard on the street, earlier this afternoon.


scene: chrissy stands on corner, waiting for light to change. a man dressed in business attire appears at her left, drinking out of a johnny rockets cup. another male, younger and not dressed in anything resembling business attire, appears to his left.

thirsty man: makes slurping noise with soda.
younger man: hey, did they sing to you?!
thirsty man: (after a beat) hmm?
younger man: (points at cup) johnny rockets! did they sing to you?
thirsty man: noooooo.


he said no in 'that' voice. that voice that totally told the other guy and all the rest of us standing there that not only did they dance and sing for him, but that he absolutely adored every minute of it.

new and exciting ways to destroy clothing.

a button on my pants just broke, and unlike the usual way buttons come off - thread loosens, button falls off, mother or grandmother then sews it back on - this one just cracked itself in half. smack down the middle - so now half the button is still attached to my pants, the other half is sitting on my desk. i've never seen anything quite like it. are buttons known to crack when its cold outside?

-------

also to be filed under "pretty insignificant" are the stupid little radio interviews in the stupid little markets that i set up for my clients. which is why i find it hilarious when they are treated like life-or-death situations. i received a voicemail earlier this afternoon about an interview that didn't wind up happening, and towards the end of the message i was informed by the contact person that it was unfortunate it needs to be rescheduled now, "but everybody seems to be ok".

isn't that a phrase better suited for use when informing others about the aftermath of an accident or natural disaster? oh good, mr. spokesperson for some crappy-ass website, i am SO relieved to find out you're all okay after a radio station in nowheresville, CA didn't put you on the air today.

air freshener industry, take heed.

our office bathroom smells like popcorn.

this happens sometimes, and i'm not complaining because, not to be gross or anything, bathrooms can smell a heck of a lot worse, but today i really stopped to think about why and how it would. i understand that when someone makes popcorn here the whole kitchen smells, and the whole side of the hall near the kitchen smells - but the ladies room is out in the hallway, about a good 15ft and a solid concrete wall away from the kitchen. there's no way the smell can waft that far, especially when the hall leading to the bathroom does not smell.

suspicious.

this leads me to believe that someone is sneaking a popcorn fix in the bathroom stalls. i am putting on my detective hat to figure out who.

frustrated incorporated.

i don't know if soul asylum's "misery" made as big of an impression on the rest of you back in the late 90's, but it did on me, as whenever i'm generally fed-up with something/someone/life i get the chorus to the song stuck in my head. today is one of those days. i actually took to playing the song rather loudly, repeatedly, all afternoon, hoping my boss would hear it through the wall, or at the very least would get subliminal messages of his employee's unhappiness. i'm not quite sure that either has happened yet.

bah.

oh come on. we know you write them too.

we love almost everything about our new building, except for whichever neighbor (neighbors) treat it with little-to-no disregard and occasionally deposit garbage where it does not belong (i.e., a half-eaten sandwich strewn on the floor near our elevator). we tend to blame the recent college-grad girls on the 3rd floor, as they probably come home wasted and treat the place like a dorm. i will fully admit that i stumble in wasted - i just bring my garbage up to my apartment with me like a GOOD TENANT/ADULT/HUMAN BEING SHOULD.

anyway, as this 'random trash on the lobby floor' issue had come up a few times in the few months we've lived there, the night i came home and saw the sandwich on the floor i threw a little hissy fit. i hightailed it up to my apartment, grabbed a post-it, and jotted down a little message about building cleanliness, conscientiousness, and the fact that garbage on the floor = roaches. a friendly reminder for our filthy neighbors, missy and i concluded. by the next afternoon the mess had been cleaned up by whatever mysterious cleaning crew takes care of our building. my friendly reminder had been cleaned up too.

although i guess it wasn't so much a friendly reminder, and was more of a passive-aggressive note.

apparently a lot of people write them.

so many, that there is a website devoted to them.

a website that i am seriously enjoying this afternoon. hopefully you will too. (thank you, hillary!)

so uniformed.

as much as i love food, i know very little about the canned meat variety. so imagine my surprise and delight when i had my first encounter with TREET this evening in the supermarket.

treeeeeettt! why the hell is spam so popular when there is another canned meat product out there with an even funner name?! who doesn't love treats?! boy, when kids trick-or-treat at my house someday they are going to have no idea what's in store for them.

so after missy and i finished throwing our little happy fit in front of the treet shelf, and i came home and did extensive research, i discovered the absolute best thing about the stuff: people make "treet loaf".

i'm reeling.

virginia baked ham "taste"...mmmm!

let the games begin.

ok, wow. i had no idea you guys were so interested in the c-list celebs! although i guess that explains how VH1 (clue #1) stays in business.

******

one of my self-admitted flaws is that i leave horrible voicemails. i ramble aimlessly (clue #2; hint: different spelling), pause, say ummm a lot, throw in unnecessary information, etc. i have been aware of this for years, but don't know how to stop the habit. i hear the beep of an answering machine, and my little succinct rehearsed speech goes out the window and i'm off to the races, prattling on and on. i was just officially made aware of how long i can ramble - whilst leaving a voicemail on my friend's work line, i actually got cut-off by an automated voice telling me i only had 15 seconds left. i didn't know such time limits on work phone systems existed.

******

and so the year of the planner continues. i just received a mini-pocket one along with my thai food delivery. will it ever end? when i reach eight i will have to say "this is enough!!" (clue #3) how in charge (clue #4) of my schedule can i possibly be?

but a quick update to the general planner situation - i have actually continued to use the little one that remains in my bag. i diligently added in two dentist appointments the other day, even telling the receptionist to save her little save-the-date cards, as i had noted the dates down already (we are all aware that i am going to majorly regret doing this when july rolls around, and my planner is long forgotten and my six-month checkup comes around). the others remain in my desk. a coworker suggested that i use one of them as she is - for a food diary - and i am considering it as i'd like to get back on the diet-and-exercise wagon. however, the idea of seeing how frequently foods such as bacon and gingerbread cookies will turn up gives me the willies!! (clue #5)

******

ok, kiddies. i meant to spread the hints through the next few posts, but i got a little carried away. (just like leaving a voicemail. hah.) if you don't know it by now, either you need to bone up on your pop culture, or i should stop daydreaming about working for the Guess Who? board game department of Milton Bradley.

i love it when days you think are going to suck wind up morphing into ones that are awesome.

i had to wake up at 5:30 today - a time i haven't seen for work purposes in ages - to accompany an author to a morning media appearance. whenever i have to awaken at some ungodly hour it always, always, transports me back to the 6th grade...i'm not quite sure why, but i suppose it has to do with the fact that grade six was the first time in my life i had to get up reeeallllyyyy early on a regular basis - 7am school start time + perm + first stirrings of adolescent self-esteem issues = decent amount of time needed for primping before school in the wee am hours - and so waking up in the pitch darkness knowing most of the world, and most certainly everyone in your home, is still fast asleep automatically makes me feel 11 again.

to this day, i despise the Prince song "diamonds and pearls" as i have the most vivid memories of it waking me up almost every morning that year. it must have been on the z100 'early 6am hour' playlist. thankfully this morning all i heard was the tinny beep beep of my super-awesome new alarm clock (yes, i will call the alarm clock that forever, even though it isn't so new anymore).

but i'm rather happy i did have a reason to get up and out so damn early today, because nowadays i don't really don't get to see a lot of beauty in the morning, what with my super-short immediately-on-immediately-off-the subway and rather late-in-the-AM commute. so as i walked up 6th avenue at about 7:10 today and saw the sun rising over the nearly-empty midtown streets, i was most pleasantly reminded of how lovely the city can be sometimes. it was a refreshing start to the day, and one i kinda wish i got to experience more often.

and while i initially thought the day would turn out somewhat crazy and ridiculous (in a bad way) - all i knew about this project, one that was dropped in my lap, randomly, about 24 hours prior, was that it involved a c-list former child star - it wound up being the most refreshing day i've had in a long time. the client was absolutely awesome, a wonderful down-to-earth human being, and i had a blast hanging out with them. (no, dear readers, i won't leave you hanging about my brush with celebrity, but i won't write their name here, lest they are googling themselves and think i am trying to exploit our new found friendship. instead i will insert little clues throughout my next few posts and you all can guess. new game! whoo!).

last love of the day.

i like the "weekend at bernie's" movies way more than any intelligent person should, and so i'm absolutely loving this news story.

why?

all love, no cyanide: late wednesday edition.

sometimes i just sit back and think to myself "wow. i am such a lucky girl because i have such amazing friends". this is one of those weeks.

a random sampling of reasons why:

- because when i might have to miss a gathering due to a medical thing, they offer to rent movies and stay with me whilst i recuperate, instead of attending the party themselves.
- because they invent entertaining parlor games like "there's a chip on your shoulder".
- because they buy me christmas presents i so want but i'd never buy myself.
- because they trek out to queens for my parties.

**********

other loves this week:

clementines - i don't often get to keep fruit around the apt, let alone an entire wooden crate full of citrus fruit, but i lucked out and missy allowed a bushel of the little mandarins into the apartment. i'm not one for peeling fruit in the office, but they are simplistic enough for me to handle during the day, and so they've become my new obsession this week. i love making my office stink like oranges.

joyeux noel - the most heartwarming war movie we've ever laid eyes on.

super warm january - i like the cold, but there's something kind of exciting about being able to wear your fall coat in the middle of the winter.

under my thumb, by the stones - i don't know why i've played this song about 300x within the past two weeks, but i just can't seem to get enough of it lately.

vigilance.

hmm.

when i saw a snippet about this article, i thought it sounded pretty interesting. 24 hour access to ikea cinnamon buns, gadgets, and stuffed animals? what fun! then, when actually reading through it, my eyes zeroed in on the phrase "apartment needs fumigating". when is fumigation called for - when someone's place is infested with little pests, right?

i would hope the ikea people investigated this matter before letting this guy loll all over their bedding displays! blechh. in the meantime, i will be avoiding this location for awhile in case he carried in bedbugs*,fleas, or roaches on his belongings.


**i'm sure i've mentioned this before, but bedbugs are one of my worst nightmares. while my obsession over them/attentiveness to prevention has been mocked to no end, i think my acting as a one-woman bedbug task force is totally necessary/thoughtful. i doubt missy and bear would be so happy and carefree if they were getting feasted on by the little monsters every night.

friday justifications.

whenever i start feeling like a bad person for being a workplace slacker, i guess i should just go and take a stroll around the office, and see what my peers are up to.

i just did so, and found a coworker sitting on the radiator in our kitchen, on her cell phone, completely engrossed in a conversation about her recent vacation. and not just a quick bit about the weather or that it was nice - she was at the point of the conversation where she was giving a detailed minute-by-minute description of how she did during a surfing lesson.

i feel so much better now.

new year, same old me.

in early december, a coworker offered me an extra 2008 day-planner, and although i've never been the planner-carrying type* i accepted it. it sat on my desk for a few hours before i decided that maybe i would give this planner thing a shot. if anything, it could help me be even MORE organized than before. so i filled in a couple of notable dates in january. and then tossed it in my desk drawer. where it is currently still sitting.

in mid-december, i got my hair cut and upon paying received a gift of two hairbrushes** and a pocket-sized planner from my stylist. that planner is sitting in one of my bags. blank.

this morning, in my inbox, i found a snazzy company-sanctioned daily planner, and i am now officially off the planner bandwagon (again) due to the overkill. so what the heck am i supposed to do with all of them now??


*those of you who know me pretty well are most certainly saying "YES! yes chrissy, you are the planner-carrying type." and yes, i like planning, and i am always on top of my schedule, and upcoming birthdays and i even like calendars, however, i just hate feeling like some little book that i'm carrying around everywhere is dictating my life; riding around in my bag, bossing me around. and so i prefer wall calendars. i can glance at them for reference, but they can't follow me around.

**she was giving a brush + planner to all her clients, but i received two because she knows that missy and i don't own any brushes*** and thought we could each use one.

***some people think that's weird. but i never thought i needed anything more than a comb. and missy and Bear just don't brush. we're so low-maintenance.

'tis the season.

to get in the last of my holiday kicks, i opted to take a 30-block walk down 5th avenue this afternoon on my way to running an errand. why i decided to do this, i don't know, as i don't really like people and i'm a fast walker and i typically avoid that area of midtown at all cost during this high-traffic high-tourist season. in any event, i managed to keep my cool even as it took me 3 songs (about 10 minutes) to walk the one single block past Saks and i had to overhear such inane conversation as two women lamenting "where are the celebrities?!" (um, most certainly not trotting around the busiest stretch of midtown)

while moseying through the crowd in the most zen-like manner** i could muster, i couldn't help but ponder the fact that with the immense amount of disaster movies they make about NYC - giant monkeys, asteroids, the stay-puff marshmallow man, floods, etc - you name it, its attacked us on the big screen - i think it would be most effective and scary if they did one of the population perishing due to trampling each other because there are so many fucking people in this city.

**it has since wore off.

-----------------------------

so as we're going to be away for the next few days, this will be our last post of the year. retrospective time!

as most years tend to, '07 had its high highs and its low lows. we experienced the devastating loss of our beloved first pet, but discovered the joy of exfoliation. we fell in love with veronica mars - unfortunately then it was taken off the air - and the meat pies from a nearby bakery. we moved to bigger + better digs, pissing away more of our money on rent, but learning how to use a dishwasher. we met some awesome new friends, but were also reminded how awesome so many of our old friends are.

and now we look ahead. as "eight is great", we have good feelings about the upcoming year, although as earlier today i ripped the last page off my daily sudoku calendar that sits upon my desk, i wondered what the hell i'm going to have to look forward to every day in the office from now on with no more puzzles to do. 2008 just might have to be the year of finding a new hobby.


happy new year, dear readers!

three. two. one.

three.

no french hens here - thank goodness - as there are already three of us sharing one bed. missy, bear, and i are currently bedmates, sharing her old bed at our parents' house. its quite a scene. i woke up this morning to stolen blankets and a grubby little paw in my face.

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two.

the number of days we just spent baking. we are basically living in a cookie factory, and i think i have flour in my ears.

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one.

last but not least (we're jumping a day ahead here, but forgive us since the next 48 hours will be spent in a present-wrapping food-feasting family-filled frenzy), our xmas greeting to you:

and a peacock in a fake treeeeeeee.





merry christmas everyone!

four calling....mice.

as i sit here pondering the lyrics of the song of the week, i realize that they are really heavy on the birds - partridges, turtle doves, geese, swans, french hens, and of course the 'calling' birds of this 4th day of christmas. i wonder if there is some sort of religious symbolism there, or if the songwriter was just a closet ornithologist.

anyhoo, never ones to stick to tradition, i'm not going to write about calling birds today. oh no. loveandcyanide has a calling mouse story.

yesterday afternoon, missy was sitting at her desk chatting on the phone. as she went to replace the receiver, she noticed something move out of the corner of her eye. so she glanced back at the phone, and saw a little gray-brown mouse pop out behind it and then scurry away across her desk into one of her piles of papers.

if you would like to reenact what she did next, she did it for me last night and it sounds like a lot of fun:

sit in a chair with wheels (preferably at a desk). push yourself backwards from the desk and as you roll away from it, throw your hands straight up in the air over your head (like you're on a roller coaster) and state loudly and firmly "there is a mouse on my desk!"

while i give her kudos for remaining so calm and not screeching like a banshee (as i'm sure i would have), i'm still rather perplexed about the arm motioning. are there rodent intimidation techniques out there that i don't know about?

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and so, this upcoming week, while we're in hardcore holiday music mode at my parent's house, i imagine the song "chrissy, the christmas mouse"** will be played at least 20 times while we snicker at her.


**i've always hated this song, even though my pseudonym is featured so prominently.

fiiiiiiivvveeeeee golden rings.

as we all know, we've reached the day that is the most important part of the song (eddie izzard does an awesome bit about how people run in from other rooms to burst into this line of the chorus...not like any of eddie's bits are anything but awesome. i could probably watch him eat a carrot onstage and be totally entertained.), and so, i will slightly break my recent pattern, to talk about a most important occurrence. just one. if five important things happened to me in one day...well, frankly, i don't know if i could handle it.

so we remember how last year at the dept xmas party i won an illness award?

well, this year i was bestowed with the "party queen award".

how quickly i am moving up in the world. from pathetic sick girl to party queen in a span of just 12 months! i should be a life coach, not a publicist.

overkill.

due to our love and adoration of pee-wee's christmas special, a video we have viewed countless times and have completely memorized, during the holidays we dub our apartment "the playhouse", and aspire to make it as shiny, twinkly, and tacky as the actual playhouse. as pee-wee had the assistance of Jambi, his genie, we fall a little short. (if you DO NOT know what i am talking about, please see this. and we insist that you watch this amazing piece of holiday goodness. if anything, it will help you understand us better.)

this year, with a larger apartment and a growing cache of christmas-y baubles, we've wound up with our most festive playhouse yet. so festive, we have SIX** xmas trees. we know you want to hear about each one!

1. our main tree: a silver 4-ft tinsel tree, festooned with little white lights, green silk christmas balls, and topped with a purple peacock. it seriously looks much classier than it sounds.
2. a 2-ft tree made of blue feathers, wrapped with gold beads.
3. a conical tree covered in gold glitter.
4. a slightly smaller conical tree covered in gold glitter.
5. our year-round creepy tree, decked out with one pointy silver ornament and a small red knitted mitten.
6. a 1-ft ceramic tree covered in little lights and bears. as you might imagine, this one is the personal favorite of our fuzzy little webmaster.

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if anyone has ever spilled oatmeal on a black shirt before, they will know that the stain it leaves resembles vomit. i did this earlier today.

as our big office christmas party is this evening, a party where one could quite possibly drink enough alcohol to make themselves sick, i don't know if doing this makes me incredibly brilliant or incredibly stupid.



**keeping with the daily theme, kiddies. only six days left - we hope you have your shopping done.

two squabs a-swimming. (hey, its close enough to the seven swans...)

i don't hang out with many people who have children, but when i do talk to coworkers and acquaintances who have them, everyone just gushes about how wonderful and amazing their kids are. i'm sure its true - to an extent. so i find it interesting when sometimes i get to overhear my boss on the phone with his wife, just bitching about his five kids. sometimes i feel like he actually despises them, and i find that vaguely refreshing.

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speaking of refreshing, if you're looking for refreshment in the SI Ferry terminal, we highly suggest that you do not drink from the water fountains. missy had me on the phone earlier, giving the play-by-play of two pigeons splashing about in the fountains, pecking at the drinking spout.

gross.

eight is great!

in the spirit of the holidays, i had intended to do a countdown of the 12 days of christmas, basing my post each day around its corresponding number (probably slacking off at three, since by then missy and i will be up to our ears in cookie dough when we go to our parents this weekend to do our typical pre-Christmas baking extravaganza).

of course i had this idea on the 13th day and then had to neglect it until now. and so its the 8th day of christmas - or the 8th day until christmas, i'm not quite sure how to properly phrase/think about that - and as 8 is typically a special number for me (birth date), i imagine now is the time to start my festive little project. here are eight things that i'm totally loving today:

1. the dexter season finale
2. the way lou reed sings the word "fire" in the song sweet jane
3. snickerdoodles
4. the fact that i received an email that started off with "has anyone seen the copier...". as though the machine just picked up this morning and waddled out of the office
5. a new snoopy stuffed animal
6. colorful file folders
7. getting up on time thanks to my fantastically awesome new alarm clock
8. the following "to-do" list email from missy:

things that need to happen before Friday

1. finish Christmas balls if it kills me
2. finish decorating – it is just stupid to decorate post-christmas
3. make little Christmas party invitation
4. get mitch’s address, mail my one Christmas card
5. make limoncello – this is happening tonight as it needs to sit for a week. Subsequently, we now have a Christmas gift for a. Joanne
6. make truffles – this is also happening tonight
7. go to Lord and Taylor, continue securing best Christmas presents ever for Christina even though I am probably getting nothing from our parents
8. get my haircut, try to look presentable and to not to give mother additional fuel to mock me post-eggnog

thermometer testing: day 3.

missy just announced that its 66 degrees in her bedroom. Bear is not a happy camper.

and so, having tested all the main rooms in our apartment and being completely dissatisfied with the results/still unsure as to whether or not this thermometer actually is working, we're abandoning our little experiment. in a nutshell, its chilly, and we highly suggest bringing along slipper boots and a sweatshirt if you visit us.

marbles, lost.

our office receptionist leaves much to be desired. now don't get me wrong, she's a very sweet lady - its just that a squirrel could do her job better. i don't know if her mind is going with age - although she isn't that old - or if she's just always been pretty stupid. either way, she completely makes life more difficult for all of us.

one of her tasks is to send around an email to the office if someone calls in sick/late to her. pretty easy, huh? no. instead its this huge challenge, and she musses up about 70% of the time. today was one of those times. as i'm sitting at my desk an email comes around:

chrissy is out sick today.

i am??? this is news to me. did she hallucinate the phonecall this morning where i told her i wasn't coming in? was i wearing my invisibility cloak when i said 'good morning' to her as i entered the office? i questioned her as to what this is all about, and am awaiting a response. i know...there is no reason for me to harass this woman about her confusion, however, i was actually in early today and hate that she's spreading vicious rumours about my whereabouts. hmmph.

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why is "w00t" the word of the year? ok, fine, merriam and webster want to show what technologically savvy chaps they are and keep the dictionary relevant. but this is a bit of a stretch, no? there weren't ANY other more important words out there this entire year?

hmm, update. i was going to go on a little rant about the state of language and tie this in to the decline of societal intelligence until i did a little research on past words-of-the-year, and found that 1992's was "not". so looks like i'm barking up the wrong tree.

w00t!

thermometer testing: day 2; and other stories.

after spending a night/day on my dresser, the thermometer now reads 64 degrees - so at least we know its working, and that the temperature is dropping as we go room to room. missy has taken it tonight, so we'll see which sister wins the award for chilliest bedroom. i suppose it should be hers, as that's the one that the polar bear sleeps in.

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so they say that working out is just as good for your mind as your body, and i'm finding it pretty true lately - i've fallen into a prickly stretch of work/life, and i wind up feeling best on the evenings that i hit the gym and blow off a little steam (and dance around on the elliptical).

but beyond the workout portion of the outing, i actually find the locker room to be even more wonderful for my mental health - i couldn't make up the nonsense that these crazy, rich, naked (generally anyone over 40 and in the locker room - which is basically everyone save me and another girl or two who also get the cheap company discount, otherwise we'd never be allowed in this upper east side old broad club - hangs out in various states of nothingness. i'm all for good self-esteem, but holy cow, that locker room makes me hope and pray that gravity goes easy on me.) old ladies go on about.

this evening, one of them, we'll call her esther because she is often there swimming, went on a 10 minute rant about the fight she had gotten into with one of the yoga instructors because he allowed a new member of the class to take her favorite spot in the front of the room. she was spitting mad. i am always in the front because i know what i'm doing! i don't know if i can go back to that class anymore. then she was practically in tears. is this what people fret about when they don't have to worry about money? goodness. i leave the gym feeling better about my sanity than i do the fact that i just burned a few cookies off.

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we've watched a bunch of excellent movies lately (no. not in the theater, since god forbid we actually get to go see a movie when its current), as all our shows are coming to an end and we've gotten back on our netflix kick. in no particular order, we highly suggest: the hoax and broken english.

thermometer testing: day 1

background: having been whining about the chill factor in our apartment ever since the temperature dropped below about 40, this past weekend when we were at our parents' they ordered us to get a thermometer, find out how cold it actually is in this place, and then when we actually know whether or not its illegally cold in here (well, not illegally, i suppose. neglectfully cold.), complain to the building manager. our nana later on told us to get multiple thermometers, to place throughout the apt, advising that she "has at least three hanging around." our family is nothing if not excessive.

but good thing, as we failed to procure a thermometer yesterday afternoon during a shopping trip to target, so nana had to give us one of hers. (she participated in the heartwarming 'passing of the thermometer' scene with a slightly exasperated "how can my granddaughters' be so inept" look on her face). like thermometers grow on trees!

anyhow, the thermometer currently reads 68 degrees, a day after we placed it on the table in the middle of our living room/kitchen area. as missy and i cannot remember if the thermometer started off at 68 or 72 (it was somewhere around the 70 mark...) we have no clue if the thing is actually reading the temp in our apt or is simply stuck at whatever temp it was in nana's house the last time it was working (quite possibly 1987). and so this evening i will be moving it into my bedroom - "the igloo" - to see if there's any movement.

if the mercury plummets so quickly that the glass tube shatters, i will be sure to take pictures. stay tuned!

waiter, there's a shrimp in my soup.

i don't know what it is about me that compels the chinese food industry to put random shrimp in my food. perhaps i shouldn't take it personally and they happen to show up in everyone's food, and i'm really the only one noticing/caring because i'm not that into shrimp; but i'm thinking that isn't the case.

in any event, the wayward shrimp of today's order showed up in my wonton soup. and i don't care what dining companions have said in the past about it being ok when a shrimp finds it's way into my eggroll (like always) or my lo mein or fried rice (on occasion) - there is really no good reason why a shrimp should be in my soup.

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since it's friday, and it's snowing, i'll leave you with a more uplifting food related story:

i'm sure you've all experienced when some song you vaguely know from a long time ago will sometimes randomly pop into your mind. well, every once in awhile a snippet of this song that was used in one of my dance recitals when i was about 4-5 years old will play in my head. and as the song was instrumental, i could never figure out a way to find out what the song actually was.

so earlier today, i heard the song playing from a coworker's office. i thought to myself, no. way. and went and hovered outside his office to listen. and sure enough, there it was. after barging into his office and explaining the situation, i was thrilled to finally find out what this tune was:

"popcorn" by hot butter.


i wonder if this has been a subconscious factor in the fact that i love popcorn.

wednesday morning grumpiness.

reason #347 why i will start walking to work if the MTA goes through with their oft-threatened fare hike:

this morning as i crawled to work on a local train, i saw the express zoom past. as we pulled in to the next station, there sat the express across the platform. yay! as i stood waiting for the doors of my train to open, i notice the express doors close. as our doors open, the express pulls away. before any of us have the chance to transfer to it. fury!

why, exactly, should i pay more than $2 for such incompetence???

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i KNOW that probably no one else in the office liked the 'lemon blueberry passionfruit' tea (ed. note: sounds weird, but it was really quite good), so i sort of reconciled with the fact that once i finished off the box, they didn't replenish it. but this morning as i finished the last of the english black and went to the cabinet to replace it, i was faced with only boxes of earl grey. i like the earl and all, but we used to have about five tea varieties, and now we're down to just one, meanwhile the coffee drinkers just got a snazzy new 'german chocolate' variety. no fair!

this calls for a little note to our office suggestion box.

real estate realities.

situation: your broker shows you a fifth floor apt in a high-rise building in an area where there are no others.

you think: score! great views, no neighbors to peep through windows, no possibility of a burglar accessing/entering the building via roof from a neighboring building without possessing a helicopter.

reality: on a blustery evening, your windows will be so incredibly battered by the wind that you are kept awake the entire night.

kinda kreepy.

i don't spend much time at deli counters - i'm not really a fan of cold cuts ("lunch meat", if you prefer). never have been. i don't eat tunafish or pb&j either, so basically i was the lunchtime freak back in elementary school with gourmet leftover meals in their lunchbox. - so i don't know, maybe this is a usual occurrence:

key food had on display this evening, in the deli case, a giant bowl of "krab salad". is the errant K a cute nod to Keyfood, or to signify that there's no way there is real crab meat in that bowl? yick.

being picky.

one of my major pet peeves is when someone says to me, "i KNOW you're going to love this" and i don't. in fact, sometimes i absolutely hate it, and i will therefore forever slightly despise that person for thinking i'd "love" whatever person/place/thing it is, because clearly that means that they have no idea who i am. (PH, i feel like you'll comment on this - please note that i'm disregarding the fact that many times i just purposely rebel against something when someone tries a little too hard to make me like it; i'm not referring to such instances).

an example of the aforementioned is the movie donnie darko.

on the other hand, sometimes someone gets it just right, and i absolutely adore the thing that they are telling me i will.

like so.

pondering the boundaries of small talk.

the elevator at my place of work has been broken for the past 2 days (not like its usual level of operation ever seems to be more than a mere cable away from broken), which is turning into a bit of a nuisance. one would say "take the stairs, since you haven't been to the gym in 2 weeks", and i would, happily, as i'm only on the third floor. however, our stairwell is something out of a horror movie - i'm not exaggerating, its narrow and dank with little alcoves where someone could hide..they could seriously film Saw 76 in there - and when i have no choice but to use them, i run down as though my life depended on it. if there's a camera (or surveillance alarm clock) in the area, i'm certain security gets quite the laugh when i flee down the stairs.

so with the stairs a life-threatening option, our only other choice right now is the service elevator. which moves much faster (read: normal elevator speed) than our usual one, so that's nice; but it also services the entire apartment building we're connected to, and thus takes awhile to get back down from floor 25. which means a longer wait time than usual. which means, getting to know your building neighbors.

so i've seen this guy in the elevator before - he works on the floor below us, and is always super chatty with coworkers of mine. as i've never been formally introduced to him as i've only nodded in agreement while he talked to others i was standing with, nor am i much of an "elevator chat-ter" in general, when i saw him approaching i did my usual "hi, we're both waiting for the elevator" smile but didn't make any overtures towards conversation. he immediately did.

which was fine. at first. he introduced himself, asked how long i've been working here, commented on the current elevator situation, the weather - it was your totally normal morning small-talk between two strangers. then we segued into uncharted territory:

chatty guy: you know, its always so nice to meet new people, especially since new york is such a big place.
chrissy: oh, i know.
c.g.: i mean, i've been here for 10 years already and its still so hard for me to make friends.
chrissy (to self): isn't there a big difference between "meeting new people in an elevator" and "making friends"?
chrissy (aloud): yea, that can be difficult sometimes.
c.g.: especially friends to hang out with on the weekends.
chrissy (to self): is he suggesting i become a weekend friend?
chrissy (aloud): mm-hmm.
c.g.: you know, it can get very lonely in this city...
elevator door opens on c.g.'s floor. he steps out. chrissy rejoices.
chrissy: have a good one!

while i don't necessarily think he was angling for a space on my weekend agenda, if he had been, why on earth would he take the "i'm so lonely, i have no friends" route? since when did personal relationship issues (well, or lack thereof) become fodder for elevator talk? save it for therapy! and people wonder why i err on the side of silence. maybe now i need to work on my "i'm a bad listener" face...

the search is over.

at some point last spring my alarm clock broke. he was just your basic clock radio - am/fm, by sony, a matte silver cube - that i believe i had since college. and while i usually tire of objects i look at daily (bedspreads, coats, toothbrush holders) after about 2 years, for some reason i never had the urge to replace this one. he was serviceable, and just sat on my nightstand, blending in nicely in four different bedrooms and waking me every morning. and so the years passed and i took for granted that i had, i suppose, the perfect alarm clock.

fast forward to earlier today - about 8 months after my old clock broke - and there i was, still hunting for an alarm clock. yes, i know...what is my problem? everyone i have complained to about this - most especially the lucky few who've had the added privilege of waking up to the ms. pac-man theme song blaring from my cell phone - have asked me the same question. and frankly, i don't know. i went from having the same clock for about 7 years as i couldn't care less about it, to needing the absolute most perfect alarm clock in the universe, one that was just born to fit in with the decor of my bedroom. and there were just so many options - do i want to wake up to my ipod? the radio? a buzzer? do i go with aesthetics or function? should it be whimsical or minimalist? do i want it to "moo" me awake? project numbers on my ceiling? tell me the weather? videotape me?** do i want my alarm clock to roll around the room, or fly through the air? and on and on and on.

it's been a most arduous search. which is why i am positively giddy that about an hour ago, i stumbled upon exactly what i think i was looking for. the stars must have all been in alignment today as it mixes style and function all in one adorable limited-edition package; it's a piece of art as much as it is a device to wake me in the morning. eureka!

i now must sit in ridiculous anticipation until it arrives. as my dear little clock is coming via canadian post, i have no idea how long this will take. i'm assuming the canadian mail system is up to snuff, but hearing the phrase "canadian post" i can't help but think it's going to show up by horse sometime in '08.

**discovering that there are "surveillance" alarm clocks out there - and not just one kind. many. - has scared the hell out of me.

giving thanks.

we've had a lot of excitement this past week, but as its thanksgiving eve i figured i'd let those thrilling tales of adventure slide in favor of something more festive. so in the spirit of the holiday, the things loveandcyanide are currently thankful for (in no particular order):

• anesthesiologists
• Richard Lewis comedy specials
• father's prowess when it comes to fixing vacuum cleaners
• Tums
• living in a pet-free environment
• nana's stockpile of extra kitchen tools
• the one gray sweater we own that is family-gathering appropriate
• our neighborhood
• nurses who know how to help a pair of spastic sisters who do not know how to properly put on their hospital gowns

and last, but certainly not least, YOU! our dear readers. happy turkey day everyone.

i tried. no, seriously. i did.

in the spirit of being economical, my friend and i decided to have a "cheap night". it was wonderful...and then it backfired.

and so, i present, you know you are in no shape to take the train home by yourself when:

a. you are entirely too preoccupied with the rats running around the subway. (note: your ipod may be broken, your cell phone out-of-service at the station, and the book you're reading contains print entirely too small to see after ___ glasses of wine - so really, you have no other choice. right.)

b. you put on your glasses, so you can more closely see the subway rats.

c. when a rat climbs up a on a rail (aside: what's up with the 3rd rail? how is it electrified and "dangerous" when birds and rodents alight on it constantly?) and gets a little higher than the rest of the rats, you actually hope, no really, you hope, that he hops on the platform and runs near you so you can pet him. (note: this may perhaps signify that you are still, 7 months later, not over the death of your first pet cat, tigger, and need a furry little presence in your life. pronto.)

d. upon waiting 25 minutes and having to let two R trains pass you by - and cursing yourself that you used to live off the R train, but now insisted on moving closer to astoria's other train, the "more convenient N" - you finally step on to an N train, and you discover its heading downtown. in the complete opposite direction of your home.

and so, you find yourself climbing the subway stairs to the street to hail a cab, 40 minutes later and 1 stop further into manhattan than you started, and you realize why you spend a good 30% of your salary taking taxis home. its simply so that you make it to your 28th birthday.

dumbstruck.

things i've learned this weekend:

- missy and i can walk a dog.

- i know every single word to tears for fears "everybody wants to rule the world".

- that if a glass pepper shaker breaks due to banging it repeatedly on a tabletop, the pepper will remain in a neat conical formation on the table while the glass shards fly all about.

- because i said so is the absolute worst movie ever made. holy cow.

in waffles we trust.

since we're all in a waffletastic mood after yesterday's post, i figured i'd continue the thread. so here are some awesome factoids* about all things battered and griddled:


mark your calendars, kiddies!

International Waffle Day (March 25) -

originated in Sweden where it is called Våffeldagen. It occurs nine months to the day before Christmas - the day the Archangel Gabriel told the Virgin Mary that she was pregnant. (ed. note: really?! so waffles are some how connected to Jesus' birth? huh, i might have to stop considering myself a lapsed catholic...)

As the holiday progressed, it also began to commemorate the first day of spring. Waffles come into play because on March 25th the women of Sweden would set aside their winter tasks like chopping wood and knitting, and began their spring tasks... the most notable of which was preparing waffles.


National Waffle Day (August 24) -

is the anniversary of the first U.S. patent for a waffle iron. Cornelius Swarthout of Troy, New York received his patent for a "device to bake waffles" in 1869. His early waffle iron was used in conjunction with coal stoves, consisted of a griddle and a cover and required flipping of the device to cook both sides of the waffle. At present, National Waffle Day is at best a "bizarre" or "unique" holiday" - the fluff stuff of radio DJ commentary. Waffle promotions at some restaurant chains have helped to keep the holiday alive, if only barely. (ed. note: not anymore! loveandcyanide has found its champion cause - keep national waffle day alive)

The History of the Waffle

13th Century A.C. - Ancient Greeks cook flat cakes between two metal plates. These early waffles were called obleios and were primarily savory in nature, prepared with cheeses and herbs.

1620 - The pilgrims bring Dutch "wafles" to America.

1735 - The word "waffle" - with two "f"s - appears in English print for the first time.

Late 1800's - Thomas Jefferson returns to the U.S. from France with a long handled, patterned waffle iron. (ed. note: oh tommy, is there anything you couldn't do??)

1869 - Cornelius Swarthout patents the first U.S. Waffle Iron.

1953 - Frank Dorsa's Eggo Frozen Waffles are sold in Supermarkets for the first time.

1964-65 - Brussels restaurateur Maurice Vermersch brings his wife's Brussels Waffle recipe to the World's Fair in New York. The fluffy yeast-infused waffle becomes a huge hit and becomes known as the Belgium waffle.


*factoids courtesy of mrbreakfast.com - quite possibly my new favorite website.

oh, hello!

it was brought to my attention today that a belgian waffle (spelled the authentic way of "wafel", but as i'm only a stupid american, i can continue to spell it the waffle house way) truck is making its way around nyc. excitement!

mmm.

i do apologize that this little PSA only affects the 1/4 of our readers who are located here in the city, but i wanted to make sure that the both of you were aware of this little yellow waffle-scented gem making its way around our streets. and honestly, if i ran the world, there would be waffle trucks in every city. one for every single one of the earth's inhabitants, even.

my own brand of quality-assurance testing.

having been harassed and harassed and harassed by gigantic, noisy, gross and utterly distracting flies throughout the past few months in my office, i say with great pride that i finally got my chance at revenge today.

after a good hour or so of pestering me, the little beast du jour was taking a breather from his cacophonous flight and had perched behind me on my cork board. while typically paralyzed with fear in such a moment, today i miraculously managed to spring into action. i grabbed the largest manuscript i could find - no offense to the author, but this will actually be the greatest feat that that piece of work will ever achieve - and walloped the little pest so forcefully that pushpins went flying and the whole bulletin board almost came down. i daresay the fly blood stain will remain on my office wall for a very long time.

i spent the remainder of the afternoon with a smug little grin on my face, filled with a ridiculous amount of satisfaction. which made me wonder - if killing bugs can fill me with such a larger sense of pride than writing a press release does, should i just become an exterminator?

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and on a side note after discussing destruction, i'd just like to give a shout out to ralph lauren, for making extremely high quality eyeglasses. i full-out sat on my glasses for about the thirtieth time this morning - it really baffles me how out of every square inch of my bed my bottom consistently finds the one little patch where my glasses are laying - and nary a crack in them. and i can't count the times i've let them spend an entire day banging around in my purse without their case or knocked them off my dresser or threw something (like my cell phone, from, um, across the room) that happened to land smack on top of them and thought to myself "oh crap. that's it"...but no, they are still going strong. this is indestructible eyewear, people. i won't try dropping them from my fifth floor apartment window until i have a new pair in my possession, but i think that's what it's coming to.

i'm on all the wrong mailing lists.

when the hell did wendy's start a breakfast menu?! upon entering, i was greeted with a poster for the breakfast frescuit (literally, after pondering the origins of the word frescuit for the past half hour i just realized right this second when typing that is a hybrid of "fresh biscuit". which means its either absurdly clever, or i'm having an even slower day than i had thought...) and thought to myself "oh hey, cute, they are testing out something new." then at the counter i spied an entire breakfast menu! breakfast burritos, french toast sticks, the works! how did i miss this? the body shop clogs my inbox with paraphernalia every week when i only shop there during my twice yearly stock ups on vats of mango body butter, meanwhile i've yet to be informed of this major major development in the home of my hangover cure. sheesh.

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a random dispatch from the halloween party i attended last night - i've never been one for couples' costumes**, but i understand that there are girls (and boys) who are all into that, and so i accept that sometimes a man has just gotta dress silly to please his little lady and vice versa (and we do appreciate that). HOWEVER, i will never respect a man who dresses as mickey mouse, being pulled around by his minnie. never ever ever.


**exception: there is a bacon + egg set floating around that i would totally be a part of - of course i'd have to rock the bacon tunic - and i guess it would be preferable if a third party could dress as a frying pan and follow us around. but that's it.