
Thursday, November 05, 2009
No Koalas Attended My Birth

Tuesday, November 03, 2009
A Very Moving Recap
There is nothing quite like inviting six lovely friends to join you for pizza and beer, and perhaps a little bit of hauling furniture, here and there, you know, just a little bit. There is also nothing quite like the affable incompetence of my building's management office, which turned what should have been effortless into an exercise in annoyance.I reserved the elevator a week in advance. However, at 10:00, I was told that no such reservation existed, and I would just have to wait because the elevator was already in use. So, we waited. Then we hung out. Then we waited. Then my CD tower disassembled itself at the slightest of touches, collapsing in a pile of suicidal plywood. Then we found a pile of broken glass behind the bed. Then we were told I could pick up the elevator key.
At 10:45, the move began. We were done by 12:00, because, well, seven people can do a same-building move in no time flat. But once the move was over, the annoyance began anew.
We started with the definitive odor of gas coming from the kitchen. We continued with three calls to the maintenance staff before any sort of response could be rallied. The clincher? When I had to say, "I would hate for my friends to explode after they were so nice about helping me move." That got a response...of sorts. Two hungover maintenance dudes popped by, turned on the pilot light, and I was done! And moved in! Victory!
Pizza was ordered, prosecco was popped open, my wedding gown was found sprawled among a pile of boxes. Our pizza party turned into an impromptu wedding as Brett donned the dress and twirled around prettily. The situation devolved when she went downstairs with me, in gown and veil, to pick up the pizzas. The pizza guy either thought Brett was having the most shotgun of shotgun weddings, or that we'd started trick-or-treating six hours early. The situation only got sillier when we took the opportunity for a bridal photo shoot/prank call to Brett's mom, and...well, it was a beautiful ceremony among the cheap beer and mishmash boxes. Never mind that Brett married a man who believes her name is "Brita."
Somewhere among all the joy, things started to go wrong. First, the power went out and I was reduced to unpacking the bathroom by candlelight. Then the hot water vanished, and after multiple calls, I was told they were "aware of the situation" and that there was "no timeframe for resolution." Then I noted that both faucets in the shower were "hot." It was like Paris Hilton's bathroom! Then I realized the dishwasher didn't have a cutlery basket, the soap dish wasn't actually any sort of dish, the oven would only open if you gave it a hard shove into the wall first, and that, really, sometimes with cheap rent you get what you pay for.
I eventually realized I wasn't angry, so much as embarrassed on their behalf.
Then I filled the nail holes of the old apartment with toothpaste.
Then I wound up with the flu.
Don't you wish you were me?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
My New Neighbors
I have a knack for memorable neighbors. Like Roy, the 72-year-old bike messenger. Or the people who kept a Post-It note message to the UPS guy on their door for months on end, the woman who rotated her wreaths with every solstice, or Extra from The Day After Man, who shuffles around the basement and leers at people.Tuesday, October 27, 2009
An Admittedly Very Outdated Salute to Miranda Priestly

- Has clear expectations and responsibilities for her assistants
- Rewards hard work with opportunities to grow (and a trip to Paris!)
- Expects her staff to dress for success and uphold the corporate image
- Teaches her staff about the industry (the infamous "cerulean rant")
- Doesn't yell (once you've worked for a yeller, you'll never do it again)
Sure, her expectations are sort of bonkers, the hours are long, saying "that's all" instead of "thank you" is pretty obnoxious, and the stress is extreme. But...raise of hands...who thinks being a personal assistant for a famous, high-level person in a high-pressure industry is going to be a 9 to 5 cakewalk with plenty of Gawker breaks? Nobody? Ok, then. Point made.
What cracked me up about Andy (played by Anne Hathaway in the movie) is that she really expected her first job to be sunshine and ponies, that she thought it would be OK to make fun of the people issuing her paychecks, and that she was somehow better than people who had toiled for years to get where they are. Pretty standard recent-grad behavior. Of course (disclaimer alert!), not everyone behaves that way, but enough do that the stereotype of the entitled entry-level worker holds some weight.
Of course, the job turns out to be a poor fit, and Andy resigns, which is OK. We've all taken jobs that we've regretted. Of course, it's not ever OK to quit by tossing your work-issued Blackberry into a fountain, and depart without giving notice. But, by that point, I was just ready for Andy to sack up and stop whining.
In the comments, tell me who you sympathize with more: Miranda or Andrea. Or tell me this post is about three years overdue.
Monday, October 26, 2009
How Does Your Garden Grow?
I'm moving this weekend. Even though I'm just transferring into a bigger apartment in the same building, I've been talking up the event like it's my biggest life change, ever. Ever ever ever!Thursday, October 22, 2009
My Five Rules of Gracious Living
I am not an etiquette maven. I almost always reach for the wrong fork, say the wrong thing, or invite friends to soirees with titles like, "Yes, I Just Evited You to Ask You to Help Me Move." (What's more fun than moving my 83 pairs of shoes two stories and 20 feet? Nothing. That's what. Plus I offer a competitive pizza-and-beer compensation program.)Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Menagerie of Decorating Pet Peeves

Hey, a little venom makes the world go ‘round. And a lot of it knocks it off its axis, spinning us into the nether regions of the galaxy. And we all know how we feel about nether regions. So, without any further ado/lifting of the interstellar petticoats, here are my Top Home Decor Pet Peeves:
Inspirational wall decals. Whether it’s a single word, like, “Family,” or a sentiment consisting of treacle-flavored barf, such as “Family is Really Nice and Stuff,” it just comes across as a clutter of unimaginative hokum. Inspirational wall decals are for people too cheap to collect Precious Moments figurines.
Accent Walls. It just looks like the decorator got bored and moved on to something else. It's trendy, it's not all that cool...kind of like naming your child Madison and then claiming you came up with it first.
The West Elm Catalog. Who doesn’t like to flip through the West Elm catalog and imagine themselves in a world of sterile Bohemia? Who doesn’t want funny-shaped headboards and decorative octopi? Until you start reading the testimonials, which come from sanctimonious twits like the Surfer Skier who enjoys parachuting, the poor, and his girlfriend. My vision of hell is spending all eternity at a dry, no-dance Baptist wedding with the West Elm Catalog People.
Sage Green. Overdone. Annoying. I can’t decide whether it’s the Harvest Gold or Avocado Green of our generation.
Lucite Furniture. No, decorators, it does NOT make a room look airier. It makes my knees look bruisier from all the times I bang into your goofy invisible furniture.
Overly Arty Book Arrangements. Why would I cover all of my books in matching paper? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of, say, deciding which of my books I'd like to read? The people who do this are also probably the same ones who have those $300 stand mixers that never get used.
Black Leather Furniture. Why is it that virtually every man, once he starts making a little money, runs right out and buys a black leather couch? Forget, "I'll call you," the black leather sofa is the ultimate mystery of the Y chromosome.
Decorative Antlers. Unless you shot it, killed it, ate it, stuffed it, and danced on its carcass, you don't need antlers over the loveseat.
In the comments, tell me what sort of decor makes you cringe. Also, the image above is from Dictator Style, which is seriously the funniest book in the whole entire universe. It even has Saddam Hussein's collection of disturbing topless sci-fi art!