So, MM and I are sitting around and having wine and veggies and chatting and talking about yoga. And she says (regarding yoga poses) 'You know what we're really good at? Savasana.'

And we both laugh so hard that we almost peed.

Do you know what Savasana is? It's only the easiest pose in yoga as it basically involves laying around. The translation is 'corpse pose'.

Also, saw 'Wordplay' tonight. I love the Crossword nerds too!


Thank Whomever You Pray To

I'm feeling a strange sort of contentment right now - my dishwasher is chugging away in the kitchen, the air conditioner is working, I'm eating grilled shrimp and edamame, and I've made plans to go to the beach on Saturday.

Even better, I have a job interview tomorrow morning at 11:00, and another lead on a temporary job in social work, and yet another lead for a Coordinator position through a friend. For those of you keeping track, I've applied to 27 jobs at this point, so I was beginning to despair of ever hearing some good news.

Mother of Invention

I have some awesome ideas to make my life easier. And I think you'll agree that they would benefit mankind too.

1. The Weighted Straw. Did you ever notice (TM Seinfeld) that straws don't work in carbonated drinks? The Weighted Straw (TM) will solve all of that. The bottom of the straw would be thicker than the top, and the straw would stay upright, thus ensuring smoother sippability (TM).

2. The AromaShower. An aromatherapy disk that would attach to your showerhead. Several useful settings included - Anger, Insecurity, Fatigue, Depression, Lonliness...anytime you feel any sort of emotion you can just hop in the shower. Clean both your body *and* your mind (TM).

3. The Attached Sheet. The flat sheet would be sewn to the fitted sheet, thus eliminating both the two-step process of making the bed *and* the dreaded middle-of-the-night toe exposure due to Untucked Sheet (TM).

I know these ideas are Genius, so I'm expecting you all to keep this a little quiet, m'kay?


To Love Somebody

I know that my words cannot adequately describe MS and Groomzilla's wedding this past weekend. I've been thinking about how to write about this, and I can't. Let's just say that it made me believe in the love that surrounds everyone, and the love between two people that are made for each other.


I Have Hope

If I ever decide to 'tie the knot', I'm doing it here. Awesome.


I Just Don't Get It

Why am I single? I ask this question a lot (usually in self-mocking after I've done something particularly stupid) and never have a satisfactory answer.

Personality? Awesome.
Looks? Awesome.
Intelligence? Awesome.
Sense of Humor? Awesome.
Swimsuit Competition? Awesome.

But today, that question becomes extraordinarily tricky. I chose this humid, 87 degree day to make meatballs, a process which requires slow-cooking on my stove for at least two hours. I just tasted the product of my labor and I AM THE BEST COOK THAT EVER WALKED THE FACE OF THIS EARTH.


This morning, as I carefully pour Splenda into my iced coffee, and measure out my Special K with Protein and Vanilla Silk, it strikes me as funny that I am being so careful with my diet, because I ate an entire box of Milk Duds at 1 am.



So it turns out this not working thing? Doesn't really make good blog fodder.

Seriously, nothing going on here.

1. Reading. I returned 7 books to the library on Monday. I had read all of them since my previous visit on Friday. My post-grad school rule: if the cover has bright colors and the content requires no thought, I'm checking it out. [Also, I don't know why, but other library patrons like to ask me questions, usually about how to use the computer. I must have 'MSW' tattoed on my forehead, because their inquiries always lead to personal disclosures. Example: I demonstrate the magic of Google for the man next to me, which leads to a discussion of his prior felonies and the confession of his dream of becoming an x-ray technician.]

2. Yoga. I sweat a lot. I wonder what yoga is going to be like in August when it is really hot outside. I try to do a headstand without using the wall. If Cute Yoga Guy is there, I think about asking him if he wants to get coffee after class.

3. Internet. Check e-mail. Check socialservice.com, idealist.org, monster.com, nytimes.com. Read other blogs. Read archived 'Grey's Anatomy' recaps on televisionwithoutpity.com. Check e-mail. Check job sites again. Check e-mail. Send resumes. Edit my cover letter.

4. Walking. Walk around my neighborhood. Walk up 9th Avenue until it becomes Columbus. Walk to Central Park. Walk across town. Walk downtown to Chelsea. Walk along the Hudson River.

5. Fret about my bank balance.

6. Call people. Get voicemail. Text people. Get no response.

7. Look out my window. Listen to the 24hour party taking place just beyond my front door with its various cast of characters who are perpetually drunk, stoned, or both.

8. Nap.


I Am Employed

This weekend, DM pointed out to me that I *do* have a job this summer. Your job, she says, is Working It. I think she was referring to my, um, social schedule, which has been unusually full lately, and thus is starting to feel like employment. Her commentary (which was and is hilarious, btw.) took place on the 8:05 am NJ Transit train to Little Silver, Saturday morning.

Friday was supposed to be an early night, but I had a somewhat traumatic date (details to follow), that I needed to analyze afterwards with MM and a large jug of white wine on her roofdeck. I would add that I sampled her miracle acne treatment cream while I was there, and thus walked home through my busy neighborhood with large spots of white medication all over my face. MS was on his way home from Ray's Pizza, and when I went downstairs to chat with him for a few minutes, took one look at me, cracked up, and asked what the fuck was all over my face.

The next thing I knew, I was climbing into bed at 3:30 am, and setting my alarm clock for 6:45. Blurg.

The beach, however, was a welcome retreat from the city, and aside from another traumatic experience with NJ Transit later that day (details to follow), Saturday was lovely.



I love yoga. I just figured out why I love it. There are poses, and you find your own way, your own comfort within the pose. Any when your instructor comes around and adjusts you within your pose, I never get the feeling that I've done it wrong. The adjustment just feels like something I've found on my own, that feels even better to me.

There are few things that I can do in my life that aren't impacted by the outside world. Yoga is one of them.


Red Hook

I am sitting on my couch this morning, very contentedly sipping Fairway Brooklyn Java coffee and eyeing the pile of laundry that is threatening to overtake my apartment. The biggest point of satisfaction is that I obtained the coffee without having to battle rabid geriatrics on the UWS. This is because I spent the day in Red Hook yesterday, and part of the exploration included the new Fairway, which was awesome (note to self: look into possible overuse of the word 'awesome' lately: check with family, friends and job applications).

Red Hook is seriously cool. I imagine the locals were shaking their heads at the sight of me and my traveling companion, clutching our TONY and walking through their quiet streets. Who knew that cruise ships departed from the Red Hook harbor, or that the best key lime pie could be eaten outside by a newly restored pier? Or that the waterfront affords views of the Statue of Liberty, downtown Manhattan and Staten Island (yes, Staten Island!) ? Yesterday felt like a mini-vacation, which was topped off by a bottle of Malbec and a delicious dinner.

I'm kinda starting to love this not-working thing...


All Grown Up

I really hope that you *can't* be arrested for awesomeness. Because if you can, my friends and family are in BIG trouble.

The last of my graduation hoopla was held on Saturday, at my brother and SIL's house in NJ. The New Yorkers braved public transport without incident (except for a near brush with death for MA who dropped his sunglasses and was nearly run over by a car, and the 40 minute wait for the return bus). The weather was perfect. We played bocce and croquet. We ate my mother's homeade cookies like it was our job. We lolled about on the front lawn, marveling at the luxury of green grass and trees. We went through an entire tray of eggplant rollatini, 2 cases of beer, most of a bottle of vodka, and 5 bottles of wine.

I am still overwhelmed by the love and support that I receive from my family and friends. Not to mention the presents...

Okay, back to my regularly scheduled job search.



Conversation with my Sister-In-Law:

ridiculouschick:...So, I'm dating again.

SIL: Again? Wait, what about that guy you told me about in March? The doctor?

rc: Oh. Right. Yeah, it didn't really work out with A.

SIL: But I thought it was going really well? You really liked him!

rc: Well, sure. But then he went home for Passover and reconnected with his Judaism, And then blew me off. And finally told me about 3 weeks later that he needed to only date Jewish women. Unfortunately, he figured that out after we had slept together...[forced laughter].

SIL: [awkward silence]


Thoughts during my 4-mile run yesterday:

1. I'm going to die.
2. It's really hot out here.
3. The Hudson River does not look at all refreshing.
4. How many times in a row can I listen to 'Crazy' by Gnarls Barkley without actually driving myself crazy?
5. I'm going to die.
6. There's a lot of goose shit on this running path.
7. That twisted, rusty, abandoned pier is kinda cool looking.
8. I hope I don't see anyone I know.
9. Breathe. Breathe.
11. I'm going to die.
12. Can I walk a little bit now? I think I can walk a little bit now...
13. My music is very angry-sounding.
14. Running is waaaaay easier than yoga.
15. Breathe.
16. I should have worn a short-sleeve shirt.
17. I think I'm sweating Kettle One.
18. The exhaust coming from the West Side Highway is awesome.
19. I'm going to die.
20. I need a drink. Not water.


Moma Rage

On Wednesday, DM and I went to the Museum of Modern Art. In the rain. Along with everyone other New Yorker/New York tourist. It was crowded. It was annoying. Why do people feel the need to take pictures of art? Seriously. Who's going to look at that shit? Chances are, you're just going to bore your friends back home in Ohio with endless slideshows of the 'cultural activities' that you pursued in the big city, sandwiched between shots of the 'adorable' homeless person and the 'really tall' buildings.

I knew it was time to leave when we witnessed several idiots using flash photography (which is prohibited in all museums, no?) and I said, possibly a touch too loudly 'God, just go back to wherever you came from and ruin your own art", a comment which DM tagged as both xenophobic and elitist.


My wedding would have been four years ago today, had not my long-absent common sense intervened and compelled me away from what would have inevitably been a nightmarish marriage. Nonetheless, this is a strange sort of anniversary for me. I'm sitting here thinking about all that has happened since June 8, 2002.

I will choose to spend the day celebrating that narrowly-dodged bullet...


Busy Work

So far today in ridiculousworld:

- Try not to snicker as my yoga instructor asks the class to picture their tailbones (read:butt) rooting through the floor, through the restaurant downstairs to the earth in the island of Manhattan. Somehow, I don't think the good people at Vynl appreciate my ass traveling through their place of business.

- Almost get wiped out by rogue bike messenger who is speeding through the intersection against the light. Reconsider my decision to leave the house at all.

- Use DSM-IV TR Casebook to force extra liquid out of tofu, which is sandwiched between two plates, in preparation for marinating. Spend the next half-hour leafing through the book the find the strangest mental disorder.

- Chat with super as he is taking the garbage to the curb. Sympathize regarding tenants who don't separate their recyclables or tie their garbage bags tightly.

- Call 5 friends and get voicemail for everyone, and then realize that everyone else IN THE WORLD is at work.

- Draw an intricate map in MicrosoftWord which details the directions from the bus to my brother's house in preparation for my graduation party this weekend. Send map to attendees, realize they will now know exactly how much spare time I have on my hands.

- Job search. 'Nuff said.


In Love

I have three new boyfriends...and I'm willing to share.





Beer Garden, Kinder Garden

Last night, Groom, MS and I traveled to Astoria to celebrate JV's surprise 30th birthday at the Bohemian Beer Garden. I'd never been there before and was fascinated by the mix of beer-swilling frat boys and Czech locals in the huge outdoor space. Thankfully, it had stopped raining at this point, and we located our friends and grabbed drinks.

While we were waiting for JV to arrive, our muted revelry was interupted by the extremely angry bar manager/owner/wanna-be FBI agent, who had been alerted to the presence of some very menacing cupcakes on our table. Seriously, MA had purchased cupcakes for the party, was refused entry with the cupcakes, the cupcakes were confiscated by the rent-a-cop/bouncer, MA went to plead his case with the bar staff, and MA was permitted to retrieve 4 of the 12 cupcakes which were sitting (rather sadly) on our table. The manager ranted and raved, accused us of trying to have his business shut down by the health department and then stomped away. (Don't worry. We saw him throughout the night when venturing inside to use the bathroom and were the lucky recipients of his glare. Fun.)

JV arrived soon after that and was duly surprised.

I don't really drink beer, and I don't generally eat kielbasa, but when in Rome (or Astoria)...


Playing Games

On Friday night, after a particularly grueling yoga class, I met up with MS and DM for what was intended to be a low-key night. Right. Thanks to the stupidity of the MTA and subway flooding, DM had endured the commute from hell. She and MS had already sucked back 2 drinks by the time I joined them.

We went to dinner at our favorite Thai restaurant. We had more drinks.

We decided that hanging out at Groom and MS's apartment would the best plan for the remainder of the night. We decided this because we are all broke (economical); it was shitty and rainy out (logical); and we've been out and about in the neighborhood far too much lately (local bar burnout).

We played Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit. We surfed various websites. We evaluated my match.com profile. We sampled wine for MS & Groom's upcoming wedding. We made stupid jokes. We kept drinking. We took frequent trips up to the roof to smoke. We discovered what happpens to a Swedish Fish when you let it soak in vodka for two hours. We determined that we have known each other for 16 years. We lost track of time...

...which explains why a) Groom found us dancing around the living room when he got home at 3:00 am, soaked and decidely less enthusiastic about the current song playing on the stereo; b) we finished 2 bottles of wine, a small bottle of Grey Goose, 3/4 of a bag of Trader Joe's soy chips, and about 200 Swedish Fish; and c) I got home at 4:30 am.



I'm getting internet at home. Ah, the luxury. And just think about how much more creative my posts will be from my couch as opposed to the NYPL or the local Starbucks!


Goose Gossage. Goose Gossage!

Last night, JP and I ventured out to Bryant Park to watch the Yankees play the Tigers. Luckily, my Yankee boyfriend was pitching, they were selling hotdogs and we had contraband Guinness.

I love doing free stuff outside in the city in the summer...