The Neverending Story

I have a cold. Again. I think I picked it up from my little twin nephews, or maybe B and I are just passing it back and forth endlessly. Or can we, perhaps, attribute it to the vast fluctuations in temperature and my packed work schedule?

In any case, B's been dispatched to pick up chicken noodle soup, hot mustard, and Riccola. And I've blown my nose so much that my abdominal muscles are sore.

Christmukah was good. A non-event, really, what with the melding of holidays and the $20 limit that we put on gifts, and some other stuff. 2008 has been such a strange ride.

And that's all I have to say about that.


Think Again, Mom

Last night, I was on the phone with my mom, discussing holiday plans. It was about 8:30 at night, and I explained to her that I had just gotten home from work after a 12 hour day.

"Oh," she said, "is [B] making dinner?"

I replied that he was, and she was extremely impressed, because B really doesn't cook that much (read: left to his own devices, he eats cereal for most meals).

Little did she know we had Mac n' Cheese with a side of red wine for dinner.


Tip Of The Day

Don't attempt to eat soup with a fork.

Carry on.



- We finally received our marriage license, so now I can officially change my personal name. And officially confuse myself even more.

- My office is having a client holiday party on Friday. Which means that I will at work from 9-10: setting up, transporting supplies, organizing gifts, and getting down like James Brown.

- B has suggested that, due to the above, I am Sheila E. (Bonus points for you if you get the reference.)

- I ordered MBT Kaya shoes online. They are supposed to improve circulation, posture, and muscle tone. I think I'll probably just fall down a lot more.

- I have "advanced tendonitis" in my left knee. Translation: I'm old.


Life's Not Fair

Along time ago (2001), in a galaxy far, far away (Central New Jersey), I was engaged to an *sshole. Of course, at the time, I didn't recognize that he was an *sshole, but hey, hindsight is 20/20, isn't it?

I guess I was a whole lot more gullible at that point in my life, and so I lent said *sshole quite a bit of money. And now, 6 years later, I am in a protracted legal battle to get it back.

Tell me exactly how someone gets away with a blatant disregard for the law? Or how financially irresponsible you have to be to sell 3 buldings at a huge net profit, and still be on the verge of bankruptcy?

Or how it is that this *sshole owns his own home, while I'm living paycheck to paycheck, and cutting out non-essentials like, say, taking taxicabs or buying new clothing for work?

It's enough to make you completely bitter. Or give you an extended case of heartburn.


Things Can Only Get Better

It must be emblamatic of the amount of sh*t that is going on right now that I can't even remember how to sign my name.

My last name changed in one life (personal) but not in the other (professional) and I haven't mastered either signature at this point - even after signing my (personal) name for the past, um, 30-something-ish years.

I think my brain/hand coordination is telling me that I don't know who I am.


I Think My Mind Might Still Be Here

Too Much

You'd think that going through a lot of big changes (say: marriage, new apartment, new job - for example) would lead to copious blog posting.

You would be wrong.


Mexican Honeymoon...

was amazing.

We don't really want to be home right now. There's no fresh breakfast delivery at our apartment, sadly. Nor are there poolside drinks, or spa services, or clear blue ocean...

Our wedding was equally amazing; we spent much of our week away discussing just how awesome it was. I will try to recap later, but for now, I need to convince my husband (ha! I love writing that!) to turn off Fox News Channel and go vote.


Feelin' Newsy

- Marriage/Wedding coming right up, in about 52 hours. Feeling really calm and happy, and about to head out the door to Bliss for a massage.

- Thank you, unidentified neighbor, for the free internets. All the last minute planning this week would have been impossible without it.

- My long-standing crush on Brian Williams might be over, due to his quasi-endorsement of McCain, which I discovered in AARP magazine while waiting for my therapy appointment today.

- Oh, and did I mention I'm going back to work on November 10th? No? I can't really even think about it until I get back.

- Honeymoon location remains a surprise (for me). Surprised that it has remained a surprise, given my predilection for snooping, and B's tendency to blurt.

- And in case I forget to tell you later, I had an awesome time at our wedding.


It's All Small Details

- We're in the new apartment and we have free internet coming from somewhere.

- The apartment is HUGE. We love it, despite the mess of boxes and clothing and whatnot.

- We can't figure out how to turn the shower on. I am going to call the super. He will have to show me. This will be embarrassing.

- Stewbert is adjusting well, although he has certainly amped up his frantic eating/barking/ball playing activities as B leaves the apartment.

- Oh yeah, we're getting married in 9 days.

- Met with the DJ on Tuesday night who said that our first dance song was the best that he's seen in a long time. Score! He is going to invite people to dance with us after one minute, thus taking a lot of the performance pressure away.

- I'm changing my name personally, not professionally. It's strange to see my new name. I'm sad to leave behind my old name.

- I was also sad to leave the old apartment. Even though I really wanted to move, that place had a lot of memories.

- And we knew how to work the shower.


Almost There

We're just over 2 weeks to our wedding, and one week away from moving.

This morning, we started with a reminder to be calm to each other amid all of the stress. And then wishing each other a happy fifteen-month anniversary.

Later today, my favorite people start arriving for shower/bachelorette madness.

It's all really happening. Excuse me while I pinch myself repeatedly.


Just Checking...

I know that fasting is part of Yom Kippur. Is bitching about how hungry you are *also* expected?

Because if so, I've got both covered.

And...can I call it "The Yom"? It's catchy, no?


Broke But Happy

B and I signed our lease today! We're going to move October 17th, and for those of you following along at home, that would be 8 days before our wedding. Yup. 8 days.

The *good* thing is that we love our new apartment (more space! less expensive! great neighborhood!) and plans are already being made to paint and decorate and nest.

The bad thing(s) is(are), moving is expensive and weddings are expensive. Nesting is expensive. And I'm still waiting on details (important ones, like salary and benefits and, oh, start date) regarding my new job.

Stressful, yes - but we're getting married soon. I think I'll just go ahead and celebrate that small fact, and worry about the rest in November.


Happiness Is...

struggling to zip up your wedding gown during your second fitting and hearing your mother say (cheerily), "salads only for the next month!"

(No worries, the dress was crooked, and fits perfectly when aligned properly. Bring on the donuts.)



Made some good progress this weekend on both wedding *and* moving stuff, so I'm feeling a bit calmer.

In the meantime, looking forward to this:

B has never seen "psychotic Syracuse football fan" ridiculouschick, so this should bring a whole new level of interesting to our relationship.


Channeling It

My stress levels are not to be believed right now. Everything is really exciting, but just...a lot. And I need somewhere to put it. And B would probably prefer that it's not all on him.

Possible targets:

- Anyone, really, on the NYC transit system. Especially that lady who shoved past me as I stepped off the 1 train (to let passengers on, as directed) and grabbed my seat. MY SEAT.

- Our current building management company, who will not bend regarding our lease, which ends while we're away on our honeymoon, forcing us to move BEFORE our wedding, thus forfeiting part of our rent. The lease office is next door. Do you think they can feel my hatred while I glare at them through the wall?

- Real estate brokers. I've had just about enough of the high pressure sales tactics, non-negotiable fees, lies regarding square footage, etc., etc., etc.

- The construction right outside our window, especially what with the pounding and sawing at 7 am.

- The various wedding beauty vendors who believe that, because I am paying them, they are able to freely offer their opinions on my appearance. I've received feedback regarding my "thin" hair, "round" face, "misshaped" eyebrows, "lack of" cheekbones, "too wide" forehead, "large" hips, and "short" legs. Thank you!

- The New York State board who is dithering about the requirements needed for the next stage of my social work license.

- My former union, who hasn't gotten the word that I was LAID OFF (even though they promptly ended my benefits in July) and leaves voicemail messages, exhorting member "brothers and sisters" to rise up on any number of issues. Union now, my ass.

- Presidential campaign. 'Nuff said.


New Wedding Theme

And it is called: F*ck the special details*.

Because seriously, the regular details are just about killing me right now.

*borrowed from the girls over at Indiebride


Bitz and Pieces

1. Had my first bridal shower this weekend with my relatives in Pennsylvania. Even though it was small (12 people) I was still flustered at being the center of attention. Also, I was very emotional, especially when receiving gifts that my grandmothers had made (they are both deceased).

Conclusion: I am going to be a soggy mess on my wedding day.

2. B and I are moving on October 15. Among our friends, this statement is met with "Cool! Where are you moving to?" and the answer is - we have no fucking idea. Apartments that are available on October 15 don't come up until October 1. So it's a big ole mystery to us. Which is kinda fun. Not.

Conclusion: This is not the excitement that we need 10 days before our wedding.

3. Instead of walking around in a perpetual rage re: Republicans, I can actually do something productive. Which might involve traveling to swing states to canvass undecided voters. How I'm going to fit that in with all the other stuff, I also have no fucking idea. But I think it might be more important than, say, obsessing over cocktail napkins.

Conclusion: I gotta do something.

4. September health month is going well, in that I haven't had any alcohol.

Conclusion: I picked a bad month to stop sniffing glue.

5. The Today Show is neither "news" or a "program".

Conclusion: Discuss amongst yourselves.


More Of The Same

(Btw., just as this was not to become a wedding blog, it's also not to become a political blog, as there are others who can do it so much better.)

That said, has anyone seen those McCain/Palin "new mavericks" commercials? They make me throw up in my mouth a little a lot.

Newsflash: Maverick = Cowboy.

We've had a fucking joker in the White House for the past 8 years who thinks he needs to prove something like he's in the Wild West. McCain and Palin have already demonstrated their philosophy - check out their negative, snide, and nasty speeches during the RNC.

Just so we're clear - I don't want to be able to have a beer with my president, and I don't want this country run by some out of control radical who proves his unsound logic in his choice of running mate. (And who also resembles, more and more with each passing day, Old Man Withers from the Scooby Doo movie.)


The Word Today On Sarah Palin

She's a maniac.

And not in that fun Michael Sembello/Flashdance kinda way.

For Realsies?

I'm watching Cash Cab, and besides the obvious thoughts that this would be a damn good way to make a little extra money (to help pay moving expenses, hello!) I'm watching this tourist family that is headed to McSorley's. Is this strange at all? Taking children to a bar? I know it's all historical and shit, but seriously?

Falling In Love

Don't tell anyone, but I am cheating on B.

It's true, I've fallen in love. With an apartment. A classic pre-war beauty on the Upper West Side. High ceilings, hardwood floors, crown moldings, 5 closets, marble lobby, 1 block away from the park, 4 blocks away from the subway - what's not to love?

There are many, many things keeping us apart - most importantly, the 6.5' by 9.5' bedroom which B insists is going to drive us crazy. And the October 1 move-in date, which means we'd need to be able to terminate our current lease one month early (not likely). Oh, and then there's the whole packing and moving and painting and changing addresses within 2 weeks madness.




So it looks like we'll be moving soon. The sublease on our current apartment is ending, and in the midst of negotiating a new lease, our building management decided to raise the rent. It's not a huge amount, but enough to cut off our noses to spite our faces push us to consider other options.

The search is going well - the only thing I fear is that we are entering a perfect storm: wedding/marriage, moving/new home, and starting a new job (for me).

Yay! Stress!


7 Years Later

The heart still breaks.


Lipstick On A Pig

Sorry to tell you all that I am full of rage this morning.

(On second thought, I'm not really sorry.)

Is the McCain campaign fucking kidding with this bullshit???????

I wish I could be more articulate. I'm just so, so angry. It is insulting to me that gender politics are being used by these conservative assholes to further their own agenda. How about keeping your policies out of my goddamned uterus? Let's start there.


Off to contribute, again, to Obama/Biden. And in the meantime, this is worth checking out.



Paranoia, Self-Destroy-a

B has recently had two stories published in books! Let's skip ahead to the inevitable...

[in bed, as we're going to sleep]

B: So, two stories. Pretty cool, righ'?
rc: Yeah! Except they're both about your ex-girlfriend.
B: Um.
rc: Why are you writing about her?
B: I dunno, they just happened to have her in them. They're not about her.
rc: So why don't you have any stories about me?
B: (on the border of exasperated) Do you want me to get up and write you one right now?


Bloggity Blog Blog

So, it's my birthday this weekend, but I don't have a birthday kinda feeling because 1) I'm turning a not-too-exciting number and can't really be bothered to care and 2) I'm having a couple of big parties within the next 6 weeks and then the BIGGEST PARTY EVER (which, yes, I realize I need to share with B) so celebrating is covered.

Anyway, on Saturday, I'll take a little break from my self-imposed September "health month" and have some sangria and some simple carbs with friends and then Sunday, another little break from the good-nutrition madness since B and I are going out to dinner.

(Oh, and the health month thing? A friend mentioned challah the other day and I nearly leapt through the phone to cram it in my mouth. Cravings aren't pretty, people.)

Unrelated: we're looking for a random z-list celebrity to invite to the wedding. When my brother and SIL got married 7 years ago, they invited Nipsey Russell (awesomest choice ever), but since he's long since departed this earth (I miss you Nipsey, wherever you are) we need other options. My vote is for that guy from the Police Academy movies who can make all the cool noises with his mouth.


Can We Get An Old Car?

While watching a musical montage in Remember the Titans, The Librarian and I had the following exchange:

TL: "Next time we have to get really psyched up for something, we should wreck a car".
RC: "Um, sure. Like what?
TL: "Your bachelorette party".


Works Of Art, People!

The invites are in the mail. THE INVITES ARE IN THE MAIL! And now, I'm off to get d-runk.

(Note: to blog readers who are getting invites - you're gonna frame yours, right?? There is absolutely NO WAY that you would throw it out, right? RIGHT????)

Over Re-Actor

Anyone get as annoyed at this commercial as I do? How would this woman respond if her kid fell and had to get stitches?


I wish I was kidding about this, but I'm off to Paper Presentation shortly, to begin Day 4 of creating the wedding invites. They're not even that complicated!!!



We're two months out from the BIG DAAAAAAAAAAAY.

Along with assembling the invitations, I've been doing a lot of thinking about job stuff. I know I need to go back to work, while also knowing that I cannot allow myself to be in a situation that makes me as physically and mentally sick as my last job. Does that mean a career outside of social work? I dunno.

(Oh, and about the invites? I don't know why I care so deeply about what they look like, or the wording, or any of the other things I'm reviewing over and over again. If I really wanted a reason, I guess I could just pick any one of the Freudian defense mechanisms and apply blindly.)


Dear People Who Stayed In Our Apartment Last Week

I hope you enjoyed your stay in New York City as much as you enjoyed eating all of the expensive Greek yogurt and gourmet cheese that we left in the refrigerator.

I'm just wondering why, exactly, it was necessary to move all of my shoes underneath the bed? Or to leave the teapot in the bathroom? Or to use our couch cushions at the dining room table?

Don't get me wrong, I'm completely appreciating the rotting grapes and dead flowers that you left behind, along with the mysterious gooey substance found in the garbage can. And I'm SO GLAD you liked my Gingerman body scrub - apparently, enough to take it with you! It's always fun to discover new products, isn't it?

For our part, we'll cherish the tea stains in our mugs, and the slightly squicked out feeling of not knowing *exactly* what took place last week in our home for years to come.

ridiculouschick and b


The *New* Definition of Insanity

...is writing and designing your own wedding invites.

Trust me.



This week finds B and I living in my parents' house while they are on vacation and our apartment is occupied by strangers. This is how it went down:
1. A woman who lives in our building is getting married and needs a place for her guests to stay.
2. We need to pay for our rehearsal dinner.
3. Only one of us is working.
4. Enter temporary sublet.

Also, we thought this would be a nice thing to do for someone. Good wedding karma, if you will. Plus, we are testing out this kind of life should we ever decide to leave the city.

So far - eh. We have plans in New York every night this week, which involves negotiating train schedules and car parking. It's almost too quiet to sleep here, and certainly way too dark. Plus, there's something a little...ooky...about staying in the house you grew up in. Lots of ghosts.

On the plus side, the dog is adapting wonderfully. He has a yard! To play ball! For hours! Without stopping!


Much, Much Better

It might not be readily apparent to my readers, but I've been in a major funk lately.

Even I didn't realize the full impact of my crappy mood until I:
1. had lunch with The Lawyer and she commented on it (and she's seen me through some doozies in the past. Ha. I just used the word "doozies". I don't even know if that's a real word.) and
2. had a talk with B about just how little fun it's been to cohabitate with my cranky ass (and the rest of me, presumably).

If pressed to apply some self-analysis, I could theorize that the daily self-esteem pounding from the past year at my previous job is rearing its ugly head, now that I have time to think about it. *Or* the net effects of being laid-off, the manner in which I left, and the ensuing quest to blame myself.

I could go on and on with that, but, really, what's the point?

The point is, it's time for it to stop. To that end, I actually got up this morning and went to yoga for the first time in, well, a long time. And then I got a pedicure, and looked for recipes for dinner, and shopped for dinner. And tonight we'll be taking a walk to watch the sun set.

Little stuff, but it's gotta be better than the pity party I've been throwing for the past month.


Running, Kinda

I've signed up for a race. It's not a long distance, so not too much training to be done. After not running for a while, I was able to do 1.75 miles on Saturday. Yay! And then The Librarian and I walked the route yesterday, and managed not to be killed by any bicycles, so that was good.

Needing motivation and socialization, I've also created a race team. So far, we have 15 members, and we've raised...$130.00. Not so good.


I'm Not Ready

Just in time for the end of summer, I have the drink of the summer.

Yes, developing a mild addiction to something containing both alcohol and sugar is a supremely good idea right about now. Because my wedding dress arrived in the store yesterday, 6 weeks early, and I don't want to even try to cram myself into it until September.

The other thing I'm not ready for? To be living in some sort of alternate 1950's universe where the majority of my day is comprised of grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking, and other household-related errands.



Last Tuesday, while wasting time in DSW, I came upon the perfect shoes for the wedding. However, I didn't actually buy them because they were the first pair that I had tried on, and I have a lot of time until I need to get the shoes, and my finances are sketchy, and etc.

Of course, as the week went along, I became obsessed with the shoes, and was then convinced that by the time I went back to get them, they'd be out of my size, and everything would be ruined. Seriously. Whole wedding. Ruined.

Well, while I was livin' it up in Georgia this weekend, B surprised me by buying the shoes. (He's da bomb diggity.)

How much do we love these? Too much, perhaps.

Home, Then Away Again

Last night, I returned from a long weekend in Georgia (family wedding + outside + August + 98 degrees = good times) and I am headed out this afternoon to see my peeps in Boston.

In the meantime (read: this morning), I am attending a WorkforceCenter career workshop. I was courteously invited by the NYS Department of Labor. And when I say "courteously", I mean "mandatory session, failure to attend may result in a loss of your unemployment benefits".


Shut It, Brimley!

Perhaps this is a sign that I'm watching a tad too much daytime television, but (at the early hour of 9:38 am) I am spectacularly annoyed at Wilford Brimley's pronunciation of "diabetes".

This kind of thing just might ruin my day.


I Back

I've returned to NYC, triumphant (?) and relaxed. Vacation was mostly wonderful, with a few bumps (there are only so many hours of the day in which I can discuss the minutiae of the wedding with my family before I am ready to stick my finger into an electrical socket).

The house we stayed in was amazing. 2 blocks from the bay beach on one side, 2 blocks from the ocean beach on the other side. A roof deck with views of both. Enough space to not feel like I was on vacation with my family.

My favorite moment of the week might have been B attempting to explain his choice of beach reading material to The Peanut (my 4 yo, niece). He was working his way through The Stranger. I believe The Peanut now has a thorough understanding of French existentialist philosophy.

For my part, I fell just a little bit more in love with my nephews, if that's possible. They're at that stage where they've started rolling over and making their first tries at crawling. And oh, the smiling. The smiling and laughing is the best thing in the world.

Our kid-centric week may have freaked B out a tad...and given me a jump on my future mother-in-law's questions regarding when we're going to start a family. I think we'll wait until after the wedding. Maybe.


I Out

I'm headed to the beach for a week.

Which will be waaaaaay different than my regular non-working activities.

Because it's the beach.



One week ago, B and I went to a tasting for a potential caterer for the wedding. And it was AWESOME.

The only issue was that said caterer was about $4000 more than any other caterer that had sent a proposal to us.

So we wrote the next day and explained that we would love for them to cater the wedding *if* they could work within our budget. Which should be pretty simple, given that we provided specific ways in which to reduce the costs (example: eliminate one of the cocktail hour stations, explain why the rental pricing was much higher than other vendors, don't offer sushi, etc.)

When they didn't respond, I called them on Tuesday morning. I spoke with the catering manager, who was very nice, and promised a call back before the end of the day. Which turned out to be a big fat lie.

B called the next day and spoke with the owner, who assured him that we would have a response by the time we left town on Saturday.

Well, the clock is ticking, and needless to say, I'm getting nervous. I believe our guests would like to eat at our wedding. I also believe that if the caterer can't work with us, that it is pretty simple to communicate same.

B, on the other hand, is writing a "humorous" story (for publication, perhaps) about a quasi-bridezilla.


I Went To Graduate School For This

I've spent a supremely fulfilling morning sorting laundry, organizing closets, and writing wedding to-do lists.

Now I'm waiting for the exterminator to come check out the mystery bugs in our kitchen cabinets. (As long as the bugs aren't near the bed, it's ok with me. I mean, I don't welcome the kitchen bugs. But they're not as bad as, say, some other pests.)

The alternative to the housework is to venture outside in the heat *or* to venture outside and then back inside, just not in the apartment. Unfortunately, most of those plans involve spending money, which is scarce. Also, I'd have to interact with The Public, and I'm just not that into The Public right now.

I stick close to the home base, turning small errands into large ones, and finding new and interesting ways to obsess over things that really shouldn't be obsessed over.

And then pouncing on B and forcing him to entertain me as soon as he walks in the door.


Deeeeep Thought of the Day

If our dog was the Secretary of Defense, his name would be Caspar Whineberger.


Oh Dear

After a very productive hunt for invitation paper (and stops for pretzel-croissants at City Bakery and cupcake sampling at Cupcake Cafe) I believe I've changed the entire color scheme for the wedding.

Pending B's approval, of course.

(Props to MS for his unwavering enthusiasm during the quest.)


Very Sensible

Yesterday, after a disappointing (but not surprising) meeting with a possible employer, I took myself shopping.

Shopping? Isn't that just a little irresponsible, given your current state of unemployment?

No - and I can counter with these arguments:

1) I needed a present for B for our one year anniversary, and
2) Who am I to deprive myself of a little something while I'm shopping for him? also
3) If it put it on my Banana card, it's not like real money is being spent anyway, plus
4) I bought a new business suit for any interviews that might come up in the near future, which
5) Is actually very sound financial planning, besides
6) I am still seeing my institute clients at $6.00/hour, so I *do * have some income, as well as,
7) I've qualified for the top level of unemployment benefits


So Far, So Good

On my first day of not working, I have:

- applied for unemployment
- drank a whole lot of coffee
- gone to the gym for an hour
- watched 2 episodes of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" (is that still on?)
- tried, and failed, to get tickets for the free Bon Jovi concert in Central Park (Livin' on a Prayer, yo!)
- tried, and failed, to guilt B into calling in sick to keep me company

Tomorrow, I am going to attempt to conquer the momentous task of going outside. Stay tuned.


Aim High - Dare To Dream

While I'm ending my current job, I've devised a goal that really keeps my feet on the ground while I'm reaching for the stars* - and it's pretty simple.

I am trying to violate the dress code each and every one of the remaining days that I am here. This can be achieved simply by keeping my flip flops on for the entire day.

Today, I had to make an unexpected visit to the (evil) executive suite, and thus had to put on my real shoes.

You win this round, hospital.


Poking The Stick In The Bear Cage

As previously noted (too lazy to link to it, but it's posted somewhere in the blog) B's mom has a limited filter between her thoughts and her words. One part of me admires her directness. Another part just sits back and...wow. No filter.

It is to my discredit that I sometimes deliberately try to get her riled up, and encourage the no-filtering. As I did on Saturday.

B's mom: Are you looking for a new job?
me: Nope. I think I'm just gonna take some time off. Let B support me. Relax a little bit.
B's mom: But he can't support the two of you. Not with the way you live.
me: Well, if we need more money, he can just get a second job.
B's mom: But how will he do comedy?
me: He can just give that up. I mean, what's more important, his comedy career, or keeping me happy?


B's mom: Are you going to change your name once you're married?
me: [with the most disgusted face I can make] Oh God no. Why would I want a name like that?


B's mom: If the two of you have kids, what religion will the children be?
me: What we're going to do is ask you and my parents each to come up with a 10 minute presentation about their religion. You can use Powerpoint, pictures, video, etc. We'll choose a winner based on the persuasiveness of the argument.



Last night, I attended a very, very introductory reiki training. One of the most interesting things that I learned prompted this exchange:

[ridiculouschick]: apparently you can do it on animals. stewbert - watch out!
[ridiculouschick]: the thing is with reiki that you need to get permission from the receiver. how do you do that with a dog?



I got the dress. I cried.

(I guess I am a pretty princess. Sorta.)



Just as we're drifting off to sleep last night...

B: "When are you going to get your wedding dress? Don't you have to order that soon"?

Cue my latest wedding-mare: wedding-related nightmare - anyone with a contender for a better contraction is welcome to leave it in comments.

(Oh, and while we're at it, anyone wanna place a bet on whether I can remain unspoiled today with the results of the Top Chef finale?)


Treading Water

"Dear [ridiculouschick]...I regret to inform you...economic considerations...position eliminated...laid-off effective June 30."

As you can imagine, I've had a lot going on recently. Like a job search. And the larger question of what I really want to do when I grow up.

Losing this job brings a huge mix of emotions - and whilst I shuffle through them, and find a way to (once again) get comfortable in the not-knowing, I leave you with my temporary theme song.


My New Goal In Life...

(should I be lucky enough to have children)

...is never to let my household situation become so terrible that we require a visit from the Supernanny.


Deep, Deep Thoughts

It is ridiculous to come home in a funk because you "suffered" your first lost at trivia night to the bowl cut douchebag who has been waiting to beat you for 5 weeks in a row, and finally did...


to get in a discussion with your significant other about the merits of an "upper decker".



On Sunday, I asked The Peanut to be the flower girl for this little event happening in the Fall. She immediately ran to tell her mother (..."and I said YES, Mommy!") and then returned to discuss her dress and flower options. Which she continued to ruminate on for the rest of the day.

B's nephew, on the other hand, had to be bribed with candy in order to accept his ring bearing duties .


New Levels of Ridiculous

A few nights ago, B and I found ourselves on the couch, each of us playing Tetris on our cell phones, competing to see who can achieve the highest score.

Of course, he's got an edge because he can play/practice while he's at work, apparently for hours at a time.

I, on the other hand, almost missed my subway stop the other night because I didn't want to end my game. I was at 28,938!!!!


Support, Friendship, and All That Gooey Stuff

The Lawyer: "You have so much going on and being pulled in all directions. Do your best to remain calm. Which makes me think of that scene from airplane when Leslie Neilsen says everyone remain calm and pandemonium breaks out on the plane."



According to all the bridal magazines, I am waaaaaaaay behind schedule in my wedding planning.

Not only will I need at least 16 months to prepare the ceremony/reception/whatnot, but I should have been dreaming of this special day since...roughly...age 5. And thinking of myself as a pretty princess probably wouldn't hurt either.

Say it with me: I'm a pretty princess! I'm a pretty princess! I'm a pretty princess!



To all future guests of our upcoming wedding celebration: Save A Date.

Not Save The Date...because, you know, we'd have to have a date and place for you to do that, and that would mean that various locales/vendors would be returning my calls and emails.

But no.

Save a date. Because the wedding is happening, it's just not clear when. Or where. (City Hall/Justice of the Peace, anyone?)

How about you just do me a favor and reserve, oh, say, Autumn 2008, m'kay?



Mama Needs A Reception Site

The good news is that there are plenty of spaces available this fall in NYC in which to get married, and celebrate same.

The bad news is that we don't have a spare $50,000.


Just A Short While Later...

...my life is suddenly about my sparkly ring, bridal magazines, and, apparently, pink nail polish.


On Friday evening, just one day shy of our 10 month anniversary, B asked me to marry him. We were at the site of our first date.

Of course, I said yes!

I promise not to turn the blog into a wedding journal. Too much.


Poor? No.

Note to self: it is a bad idea to review your debit card expenses to see just how you got to $4.24.

Were the Pinkberry, pedicure, and hair products necessary expenditures? Probably not.


This is the balance in my checking account until I get paid tomorrow.

Unless, of course, the 'economic stimulus' payment from the government is deposited early. I have to be honest, though - at this point it's looking less like an incentive to help the economy, and more like me being able to buy lunch.

(I guess it teaches me not to be the tough guy that decides to pay for everyone's drinks at trivia night.)


I Forgot My Mantra

Yesterday, I had the day off and B was able to leave work at noon. It was gorgeous outside, so we went to our favorite spring/summer restaurant.

As we sat by the water, drinking in the sunshine (literally drinking in the sunshine - corona for me, pina colada for him), it became a moment, a feeling of being truly happy. Even Stewie seemed to pick up on the contentedness, and stoppped tugging on his leash, trying to play with kill pigeons. B and I smiled at one another. "We are so lucky to be living in New York", I said.

This morning, as we squished onto the downtown 3 and two of our fellow passengers engaged in an argument over personal space, and all the noise and energy and challenge of the city swirled around us, I tried to access that blissful mood.

B noted the sour look on my face and started humming "I Love New York".


What I'm Reading

...and thus, so should you.


I decided, somewhat rashly, to wear flip-flops to work today.

It's too cold, and I need a pedicure.



Crowded Hizzouse

B and I went to see Crowded House at The Fillmore last night. They closed with this, which was quite lovely:

Only bad part of the night? B couldn't use his "UNcrowded House" joke, since it was a sold out show.


A Bad Case of the Mondays

My short morning run was sluggish and draggy and uninspiring, made worse by the rememberance that I ran 13.1 miles at this time last year.

Then, some fucking clown decided to close his wet umbrella directly above my head on his way into the subway station.

And I'm tired. The exhausted kind, brought on by waking up at 3:27 am for absolutely no reason.

So, I've decided that this day is good for little else than eating soup (tomato - delicious).


My Worst Nightmare

Clearly, the apocalypse is upon us.


In Between

I have reasons lately, for tottering on the edge of excitement.

There's nothing that I can fully write about yet (other than to post semi-cryptic blog entries) other than to say that I'm feeling pre-excited about the possbility of both of these things...and I'm holding a space for being more excited should they pop up.

I'd say I'm somewhere between happy/fluttery/anticipatory - and jumping up and down.

Social. Work.

When, in a social situation, someone is making slightly deragatory remarks about the population of clients that you work with (and you yourself are a survivor of the particular social problem that this person is referencing) - what is the appropriate reaction?

Because, you know, it's hard to turn it all off when I leave the office at the end of the day.

On the flip side, who wants to hang out with Social Justice Girl?


Fage Rage

When attempting to drain the liquid that accumulates on the top of yogurt, do not tilt the container too much. The incorrect angle will result in a) wasting $1.79, b) losing your afternoon snack, and c) tears.


Passover Is So Over

- The General, B's brother, and B's nephew arrived early. Early enough to witness The Removal of the Schmaltz *and* Ridiculouschick: Unshowered.
- Stewie enjoyed about 20 minutes of freedom before he was banished into the gated kitchen on permanent time out for snapping at B's nephew.
- The matzoh ball soup was a definite cause of stress. Who knew you had to mix the batter, let it set/chill for 2 hours, form into balls, boil for 1 hour, remove, set/chill for another hour, then add to broth? Answer: plenty of people knew. I would've known, had I glanced at the recipe at any other time than last minute.
- Even my Dad knew, based upon on segment he saw that morning on CBS.
- The General seemed to have a good time. Sure there were a few instances of orders being barked ("Where are the small plates for the gefilte fish! You can't put them on the meat plates! Get some small plates!") but really, given her nickname, can you expect anything less?
- Everyone brought dessert, anticipating that B's first attempt at macaroons would be a disaster.
- Happily, they were wrong.
- V, our designated Haggadah reader, gave up after about 1 page, due to boredom (his and ours) and lack of attention (ours).
- The charoset was lovely, despite the addition of truly horrible supermarket sweet wine. (How good could it have been when the label on the bottle has to stipulate that the wine 'contains no fruit juice'?)
- When it was all over, B and I collapsed on the couch, laughing over our favorite moments of the day and making plans for next year.
- Yes, we're just that crazy/stupid.


Goy-a, Oh Boy-a

(Thanks to The Reporter's SIL for post title.)

B. and I REALLY got a lot done last night - we hung pictures from our trip to California *and* put together our new furniture. I guess having family over is a real motivator to make our apartment seem like we really actually live there.

Today, I need to go to Fairway to complete the rest of the grocery list (read: the items that B couldn't find the first time around), stop by a bookstore to pick up copies of the Haggadah (you should have seen what that looked like when I tried to spell it out phonetically), make sure the schmaltz separated from the chicken stock(I haven't looked at it since I put it in the fridge at 1:36 am Wednesday morning), and compose the charoset (note to self: resist guzzling the red wine in the process).


TecmoBowl, 1992

Last night, B finally joined Facebook, so we promptly began to play Scrabulous, which is just about as addicting as Facebook itself.

(As noted previously, it is quasi totally ridiculous to be sitting in the same room with your boyfriend, communicating via computer, but I digress.)

Our game steadily progressed along(he's absolutely kicking my ass) until this afternoon, when our new furniture was delivered unassembled, and there was some additional Passover shopping to be done (The General had demands) and then there's his comedy gig in the Jerz, and he won't be home until much later, thus leaving me at a standstill.

Would it be out of line to call him at the club to demand that he makes his next move?


Rock On

When, after spending a day with your family (as we did Saturday) while your niece was having one of her "difficult" days and your parents are, well, your parents and you get back to the city too late to do any of the things that you were hoping to do (mostly, the gym) and you're running late, making The Librarian wait for you, and you have no time for dinner, and you know how cranky you can get when you're hungry...

...Stoli Razz and soda and rockin' out to this song can be helpful:

Note: Joe's Pub looked a little different from this video - thank doG.



In typical ridiculouschick fashion, I've gone completely overboard with Passover. What started out as a simple catered meal has turned into matzoh ball soup (including the chicken stock), potato casserole, charoset, roasted asparagus, and macaroons - all homemade.

Oh, and we'll also be roasting a chicken because The General is afraid we won't have enough food. (If pushed, I can admit that I'm afraid too.)

Cooking, and trying to make things perfect isn't new to me. But it's hard to know what I'm aiming for because I've never made most of these things before. For example, matzoh balls: should they be small? large? chewy? al dente? When asked, B shrugs, grins, and starts singing the "we should have ordered from Zabar's" song.


Next up: attempting to bring the apartment to levels of cleanliness that it has never achieved before.


Not So Much Oy, Not So Much Vey

The update on Passover is...it's totally fine (as long as I can make chicken stock at some point this weekend). Got a recipe for matzoh ball soup from one friend, kuggel/kugel and charoset recipes on their way from two other friends...and I've notified B that it's his job to make the flourless chocolate cake.

The Lawyer will be coming (with a bottle of wine) to laugh at me share in the festivities.

One nagging worry: haven't heard from B's mom (whom I like to call 'The General') about her expectations for the day...so things might have to shift after that conversation.


Last night - actually got my butt out to Conker Hill for trivia.

Here's what I took away:

- Renewed appreciation for the Damn Yankees, due to a question in the music category and their overall awesomeness
- A nagging and persistent need to look up this painting, also due to a question (but not so much with the awesomeness)
- 2 pints of Guinness, 1 game of Big Buck Hunter
- Admiration for B's random knowledge

oh, and

- A free bottle of premium vodka, because WE WON! (I'm probably much more excited about this than I need to be.)


My New BFF Thinks I'm A Spammer

The Facebook obsession continues unabated (you can play online Scrabble! and find your (now)fat ex-boyfriend from high school!) with one difficulty: this morning, while trying to add another friend, I was ordered to desist. I guess I've made too many requests, and they've shut off that functionality for now.

Even Facebook knows I have a problem.



I was supposed to go to Pennsylvania this weekend with B (he's doing comedy shows there) but ended up staying in the city, due to dog care issues. (Read: there was no-one available to walk Stewbert.)

It's been kinda nice, having a (relatively) plan-free weekend. When you have no social activities, you make them yourself. By joining Facebook. And becoming obsessed with it.



Since book club happened to be meeting on April 1, L. and I decided that we would attempt some hijinks (possibly wacky). We giggled over what we would do, and how it would sound, and what to say, and then giggled some more.

The night of, I waited for an appropriate break in the conversation. It was perfect, because someone had just asked me how my vacation to California had been. "Well", I said, "we took a little detour to Vegas..."

I looked around. They were all smiling. Starting to look excited.

"...and got married..."

Exclamations of surprise, and...joy?

"...and we're expecting our first child in November."

Wait, this wasn't right. They were all beaming. Happy for me. Some were starting to get up to give me hugs. L. was laughing so hard that she had her head buried in her lap. I had expected shock and silence...clearly, everyone at book club is waaaaay too nice.

Before I could get any deeper in, I came clean. Which was probably perfect timing, because, if I'd waited any longer, they'd have started organizing a baby shower.


Oy Vey

Somewhere in the craziness of last weekend, during lunch with B and B's mom, I agreed to host Passover.

Any recipes or pointers would be greatly appreciated. Or, I could google 'kugel'.

Madness. Madness, I Tell You

Just back from a couple of days in the Jerz where I:

- decorated 16 cupcakes with specially tinted pink icing *and* finely chopped raisins that spelled 'EAT ME' (Alice in Wonderland birthday theme...don't ask.)
- was the special helper at pre-school for 16 hyperactive three and four year olds
- changed a gazillion diapers (approximately)
- played about 10 billion games of 'Naughty Barbie' (Ew, no, not like that. The 4 year old version. Pervs.)
- helped to make The Peanut a special birthday breakfast

and, last but not least,

- continued my unbroken streak of reverting to a surly teenager immediately upon spending more than an hour in my parent's home.


Wiki Wiki Wiki Waaaa

I have a new addiction and, OH GOD NO, it's Pinkberry. I had successfully resisted the craze until Tuesday, and since then, I've stopped each night on my way home to get progressively larger sizes. (To add to the madness, going to the closest Pinkberry necessitates using a slightly farther subway station, with a longer walk home.)

So, my favorite is the green tea flavor but certainly not with any healthy fruit, as pictured above. No, there's some secret not-on-the-menu ingredient called "mochi" that is sometimes described as rice cakes by my new best friends at Pinkberry. I don't know quite what they are (but they are delicious!) and since there is no published information on them, I did a little Internets research.

And found this on Wikipedia:

Mochi is very sticky and somewhat tricky to eat. After each new year, it is reported in the Japanese media how many people die from choking on mochi. The victims are usually elderly.

Awesome. So now I have a new habit which along with being somewhat expensive, could eventually result in death.

I might as well take up smoking again.



Last night, a small miracle took place in my apartment.

Here's how it went down: B and I had a slight disagreement on Sunday that we were able to calmly, coherently, and respectfully talk through. We both came out on the other side of the conversation feeling that we had been heard and understood, *and* that we were happy to have had said conversation.

There may be hope for emotional maturity yet.



Been a little busy lately, watching BabyTV.


Is It Lame...

...to talk to your sister-in-law about how exhausted you are and how difficult it is to adjust back to east coast time/daylight savings time after your vacation when, just 7 days prior, she has given birth (via c-section, no less) to 2 babies, and is breastfeeding every 3 hours?

Never mind. I don't need an answer.

Vacation - Day 6 - L.A./Dana Point

Eating at In-And-Out Burger was a priority.

So was gawking at rich people (at least their houses).

At the end of the day, we very happily turned in our rental car and checked into the resort that was hosting MC & JJ's wedding. Above, the view from our room.


Vacation - Day 5 - Santa Barbara/L.A.

We had lunch in Santa Barbara (no pictures, for some reason) and drove the rest of the way down the coast to Los Angeles. Stopped for "dinner" at Neptune's Net where I became acquainted with the poor man's version of a chelada - Bud Light and Clamato in a 24 oz. tallboy. It was DELICIOUS.

We made it to our hotel in Venice just in time to walk out on the pier and watch the sunset.


Vacation - Yurt Gets Its Own Post!

The Yurt remains my favorite part of the trip. It's hard to describe just how peaceful it felt there, in between the ocean and the mountains in our own little perfect circle...gazing up at tree tops through the skylight.

Vacation - Day 4 - Hwy1

What could I possibly...
...say about Hwy1...
...that these pictures dont?


Vacation - Day 3 - S.F.

We happened upon Ghirardelli, who happened to be having a sale of a 50 piece bag of chocolate. Chocolate for breakfast! Chocolate all day!
Heading to "The Rock"
Welcome to "The Rock" (I bet everyone who visits Alcatraz says that when they arrive, and btw., my Scottish accent? Sucks.)
And a return to the Hotel Del Sol for a nap following our day-long chocolate sugar buzz.


Vacation - Day 2 - Napa/S.F.

Working it and owning it at Clos Pegase.
The view from Sterling Vinyards.
Not that this picture is any indication, but we had lunch in Calistoga.
Sunset, taken from the car on the way into San Francisco.


Vacation - Day 1 - Napa

B, stylin' and profilin' as we played bocce at G&B's friend's house in the hills overlooking Napa Valley.

Unsurprisingly, my team won both games.


The Greatest Invention of Our Time

Seriously. Bud Light and Clamato? Genius.
(Platter O' Fried Food? Not bad either.)



Back in NYC, after a week in Cali and a brief stop in The Jerz to meet my twin nephews!


Well, That Settles It

I think we have to move to California.


California Bound

Don’t worry, hey, no need for you to hide among the trees
Come into the light and you’ll be free
Don’t scurry, hey, it’s such a lonely life up in the hills
The valley’s gonna cure your every ill
Don’t worry, hey, I know that you are lost but you’ll be found
God willing we are California bound
God willing we are California bound

No, I never will hate you
I just want to show you the one truth
And spread my love all around

Don’t worry, don’t bring yourself down
Don’t let your mind chase you like a hound
Don’t worry, don’t bring yourself down
We’re coming today to save your town

No worries, heys, I know tomorrow brings the golden sun
Where there’s wine and olive fruit for everyone
Do hurry, hey, now spread the news from there upon your mound
God willing we are California bound
God willing I won’t put you in the ground


I'm Going With Insanity

So, as of 4 pm, B and I have called each other approximately 37 times to make weird noises, laugh hysterically, and then hang up.

Insanity? You Decide.

That pre-vacation too-little-time-too-much-to-do thing is kicking in, which is resulting in not a whole lot of sleep, which then leads to:

- Me prank calling B at work, making ridiculous noises and hanging up
- B and I laughing hysterically over the concept that we are sleeping in a "monkey bed". (Don't ask, it's a long story involving Tim Gunn and our inability to change our sheets.)
- B pretending to be Tim Gunn (voice, mannerisms) for an entire night
- Exploring how many ways we can use the word "yurt" in a sentence
- Laughing hysterically over that
- Making up conversations that either one of us is having with the dog re: his religious choices


I'm Annoying, It's True

Lately, I've taken on a slightly nagging tone with B, as I've harassed and harrangued him regarding our upcoming trip. There seems to be about a million odds and ends to clear up, and we're leaving Saturday. Conversations in our house sound like this:

r: "Did you book the rental car"?
b: "Ya".
r: "What about doing laundry before we go"?
b: I'll take care of it".
r: "Do you know where your swimsuit is? Do you think you should get it out now? Let it air out?"
b: [eyeroll]
r: "What about L.A.? What do you want to do in L.A."?
b: "Ummmm, eat at In N' Out Burger?"
r: "That's it? That's all you want to do in L.A.?"
b: [shrug]
r: "Well, when are we going to pack? How many suitcases are we bringing? Should we bring my laptop"?
b: [starts rocking back and forth and crying]
r: "I'm really excited for our first vacation together..."

This morning, I found myself debating whether it was more important to go to my ENT doctor to check the congestion/wheeziness I've ignored for the past 2 months *or* go get my hair cut.

Off Track

Just ran 3 miles, in my first running effort since being crushed by food poisoning/the flu last week. I'm way off my training schedule, and wondering if the half is going to happen.

Damn digestive system...


Great Moments In Dubbing History

When watching a movie on The CW11, "Jesus Christ" becomes "Cheese & Rice."

(This may have eclipsed a previous Moment captured by my brother a few years back where "Fucking Asshole" became "Viking Eggroll.")


Day 2, Sick

Failing to amuse myself with Gatorade, Cup O' Soup, or any one of our gazillion movie channels, I've chosen to harass the dog:


A Long Time Ago We Used To Be Friends, But I Haven't Thought of You Lately At All

The good news is that there is some movement on the legal stuff to get my money back from my ex.

The bad news is that (I think) my favorite burrito place served me up a portion of food poisoning last night.


As It Turns Out...

It is not very difficult to secure your very own yurt for one night. Yes, I will be able to fulfill my (one day old) dream of living in a yurt.

ridiculous: "I made the reservation! We're going to stay in the yurt!"
B: "Ugh."
ridiculous: "I'm the happiest girl in the world!"
B: "Ugh."
ridiculous: It's gonna be great!"
B: "Did it say something on that website about showers and restrooms being 'a short stroll away'? And they might have to loan us a flashlight?"
ridiculous: "It's gonna be great!"


Yurt! Yurt! Yurt!

After weeks of trying to ignore my low-level anxiety regarding our lack of planning for our upcoming trip to California (we're leaving March 8!), I've spent the morning researching options.

I'm hoping that we'll spend one night in Big Sur, even though B is not much of an outdoor enthusiast (Read: not at all, unless he happens to be camping on 23rd Street and 7th Avenue to audition for Last Comic Standing. And even then - not so much.)

I believe I've found a place that will make both of us happy: here! Right near the ocean...outdoor heated pool and jacuzzi...moderately priced. Best of all, accomodations are in "yurts". I'm not entirely clear what a "yurt" is, or what it stands for, but I know this: I absolutely HAVE to stay in one.

And then possibly have a t-shirt made that tells EVERYONE that I have slept in a "yurt".


I've Changed

This morning, I found myself completely aggravated and frustrated because I didn't get a seat on the shuttle bus.

Reread that.

Perhaps I should have been celebrating the fact that I can step right outside my building and board free transportation which takes me directly to the subway (the station even has an escalator that I refuse to walk down, because... I'm lazy I have my reasons).

Or that I now have doormen. And an elevator (3, in fact).

But no. There I was at 8:31 am, rolling my eyes, tapping my feet, and muttering to myself. Unbelievable.

The girl, apparently, has been taken out of Hell's Kitchen.

(And this post doesn't even address why I didn't get a seat, which was because I was late going downstairs because I took some extra time this morning whining to B about being crampy and not wanting to go to school or work.)


I Rule

Due to the impacts of a tequila-filled night at Arriba Arriba, I rescheduled my long run from Sunday to Monday. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling too well yesterday either, due to a Sunday Supper @ Seven at LDK's house.

Nonetheless, I ran 4 miles. It wasn't pretty (in fact, it took until about an hour afterwards for me to stop sweating) and it wasn't fast - but I did it.



Bad Idea Jeans

If you're already having a semi-crap-filled day, reading Ann Crittenden's thoughts on motherhood during your lunch hour isn't likely to improve your mood.

Upon blog review, last year at this time I made myself a cake. This is probably a better plan.


My Bad

A few weeks ago, I sent an email out to my possible running mates (OrangemanMike, The Reporter, Bons, and V) which included a training program and the information that we would need to start said training program on February 17.

I just looked at my calendar and (fo' shizz!) that was the wrong date.

Training should have started this week. So now I'm already behind .6 miles for Tuesday, and 2 miles today since I elected to stay in bed for an extra 30 minutes (oh! the luxury). And I'm not quite sure what the 4 mile run on Sunday will look like (hint: not good).

Grumble, grumble, grumble.



After weeks of half-heartedly looking through ads on Craigslist, B and I decided yesterday that we are staying in our current apartment until October.

Now that we've committed for another 8 months, it makes perfect sense that I have been looking at apartment sales listings all afternoon and forwarding the particularly unattainable (a one bedroom on the UWS for only $697,000 with an $1100 monthly maintenance fee - sure!) along to B. I've fallen in love with at least 10 listings.

Why do I do this to myself?

UPDATE 5:05PM: I've just sent the 10-gazillionth listing to B via email with a subject line that reads "Save Me From Myself".



The Today Show was referencing the "Lundberg Report" in reference to gas prices (?) this morning.

All I can think of is Office Space.


Half Marathon

This morning, I ran 2.5 miles without stopping, which is the best I've done so far. I'm feeling pretty great, especially considering that my body is clearing up the remnants of last week's stomach virus.

Now I just need to multiply that by 5 (or roughly 5, I don't know, no-one can do that kind of math) and speed it up a bit, and I'll be ready for May 4. Hopefully with some running partners.


I'm Not There

I've been kinda...disconnected lately. I guess if I wanted to MHP myself, I'd call it slightly dissociative.

Drifting along to another subject...I'm newly (again) obsessed with this since it was used during one of the commercials during the Superbowl. Something about it recalls movement and change and life progressing along (as it does, with or without your help).

Bonus: a lovely little reminder of Six Feet Under, which I still mourn and miss.


Isn't He Lovely?

As we speak (uh, write) B is on line, waiting to audition for Last Comic Standing. It's raining, and he's not a happy camper. Literally.

To witness the enthralling live coverage on his blog, send me an email. I can't provide a direct link as he references me by my "government name".

Exciting News

As it turns out, I may be am the best girlfriend EVER!

Not only am I graciously weathering the stomach virus that B passed along, but last night, I devoted my full attention to watching Best in Show recovering, so I allowed him to provide me with Gatorade and various Cup o' Soups as I lay on the couch.

I know, I rock.


It's Love, Part 2

Today, after my 5th trip to the bathroom within 2 hours, paired with uncomfortable abdominal cramps, it became clear that B has passed last week's stomach malady along to me.

(Issuing a preemptive apology to our bathroom. The carnage continues.)


It's Love

On Saturday, B accompanied me to East Petersburg, PA to attend my 2nd cousin's wedding, which involved a 3 hour car trip each way. And my wacky Mennonite family. And no dancing, nor alcohol at the reception. And he had been sick for the past 4 days.


Last night when I took Stewie out for his final walk, I stepped in dog shit. While wearing my favorite pair of sneakers. The ones that have a lot of grooves in the sole. I had barely started whining about it when B volunteered to clean them for me.


So There!

This morning on the subway, B had the nerve to suggest that he might not audition for Last Comic Standing.

I repaid his hesitation by claiming that if he didn't try out, I would never speak to him again.

And then spent the rest of the subway ride doing just that.




Next week, B is going to try out for Last Comic Standing. This will probably necessitate camping outside the audition venue for the night.

He expresses concern over weather, temperature, blah, blah, blah.

I, on the other hand, am trying to fully encourage him not only because he is amazingly funny...but because I'd have the apartment to myself.



Tip of the Day

If you hope to maintain your physical fitness, taking an 8 month "break" after completing a half marathon is not a good idea.

(Upon further reflection, the start of the downfall was the 2 week "break" that I allowed myself directly after the race. There's just no coming back from that.)


Day 1

I actually got my ass out of bed this morning and went to the gym before work. A few comments:

1. Why does it take so much effort to practice this kind of self-care? I feel like I'm constantly attending to what I'm eating and how much I'm working out. Getting myself back on track feels like it is becoming a 2nd job. (Ok, 3rd job if you count the private clients.)

2. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was 30.

3. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was living/sleeping alone.

4. I'm doing really well with my eating habits, although I have to consider that my office is being negatively impacted by my quest for lean proteins, in that it usually smells like tuna and hard-boiled egg whites.

5. It also looks weird when one of your co-workers is talking to you and you are hurriedly scooping the contents of a small can of tuna into your mouth as your rush betwen meetings and clients. I'd say I felt cat-like, but not in a good way.

6. Formal half-marathon training would need to begin February 17, which is even closer than I thought. I wonder if I'll be ready, considering that 2 miles of running is a huge accomplishment nowadays.

7. Drinking a lot of water is great. Drinking a lot of water when you don't have a functioning bathroom close to your office? Not so great.

8. It is odd to regard this diet/exercise routine as a necessity to manage stress levels, rather than a strategy for looking good.

9. I believe it's time for a nap.


On Poop

Shifting back into balance after the madness of EMDR training. The Peanut came into the city yesterday for a sleepover, and to help with the transition. Some dialogue samples:


"[ridiculouschick], I'm a good eater. I eat and eat and eat. And you know what happens when you eat a lot? I poop. I poop and poop and poop."


ridiculouschick: "Peanut, do you need to poop? You keep tooting (farting)."
the peanut: "No, I toot because I'm happy."


(At Barbie's House in Toys R Us, Times Square)
"Where does Barbie poop?"



"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?"



Dear EMDR Training::

You are kicking my ass far, far worse than I had expected. Suspending regular life activities until you are done with me. Including blogging.




Dear Guy Who Almost Plowed Into Me While I Was Walking Through Union Square Because He Was Looking At His Blackberry, And Then Didn't Apologize For The Near Miss:

I hope that message was important. Fuckface.



Where's 'Terrible Terry Tate' When You Need Him?

Dear Drunk English Tourist Heckler at New York Comedy Club:

Next time, shut the fuck up and let the comedians do their acts. I don't care "how comedy goes" in England. Seriously. Shut up.



I'm A List Lady

Prompted by some spamalicious comments on my post about my nose ring, I rewrote my ongoing To Do list this morning, and I just thought it was so fascinating that I'd share with the blogging community.

1. Find provider (is that the right term?) in NYC to replace my nose ring
2. Determine the design for my next tattoo
3. Get my next tattoo
4. Make restaurant reservations for The Peanut's trip into NYC
5. Go through mail, change address for mail that was forwarded
6. Buy tickets to Jersey Boys for parent's wedding anniversary present (note: their anniversary was in September)
7. Order from drugstore.com
8. Finish required reading for training that starts on 1.18.08
9. Make final decision re: half marathon in the Spring
10. Check cost of the gym located in our apartment building; cancel NYSC membership

Mesmerizing, no?


Blog Roll

I'm home today with a sore throat / no voice, and thus have the time and inclination to make some changes to the blog.

I've noticed that some of my past favorite reads have stopped blogging (particularly missed: The Librarian and Groomzilla) so my blog roll is due for an update.

I NEED YOUR HELP. Please comment with one or two of your most entertaining picks, I'll check em out, and if they hold up to the high standards that I've set for myself here at ridiculouschick, they'll be added.


As It Turns Out, The Bedbugs Weren't So Bad

Well, comparatively speaking.

These are my across-the-hall neighbors from my first apartment in New York City. The one with the bedbugs.

Read and, please...enjoy.



Not to get all...Rooney-esque on you guys, but has anyone seen the Cymbalta commercial? Cymbalta is some kind of drug for treating depression along with its somatic side-effects...but I wonder about the marketing strategy.

Basically, the commercial voiceover states that depression 'hurts everyone' while the accompanying montage is of kids, pets, and spouses looking on sadly. Just in case you're not getting it, the music consists mainly of minor piano chords.

If I were clinically depressed, I'm not sure that being reminded of how much my depression sucked would be helpful in driving me toward treatment options.


But I Was Prepared!

I had thought I was extraordinarily organized when I managed to bring BFL appropriate food to work yesterday for the 5 meals that I require while I'm here.


The plan yesterday was overturned by not being able to feel my jaw or tongue for about 4 hours while recovering from my trip to the dentist. (Odwalla protein drink to the rescue!)

And today, I'm discovering that it is really difficult to a) cut through leftover grilled steak b) using a plastic knife c) and a spoon. And furthermore, that chewing said steak is nearly impossible given the new fillings on one side of my mouth and sore gums on the other.



As it turns out, my teeth have been hurting *not* because I'm grinding and clenching during my sleep...but because my fillings are about a gazillion years old.

(When I told my dentist that my fillings were, um, filled in 1988 she almost did a spit-take. Almost.)

My dentist must be super motivated because she decided to replace once side of my mouth's fillings right there on the spot. 4 shots of Novocaine and all.

(Me: "But I just came in for a cleaning!"
Her: "No time like the present!")

So now I'm back at work, debating if I should cancel my 3 pm client, or just try to drool on through it.


Whilst on the subway this morning, I noticed the above piece of artwork. Is the MTA suggesting that ours would be a better world if we had the ability to commute via giant rabbit?

(Given slow trains and fare hikes, maybe so.)


Free Day

Yesterday, I did such a stupendous job of taking advantage of my day off from Body for Life that I needed to share it with all of you. It is breathtaking.

9:00 AM - Life Cereal, directly out of the box.

10:00 AM - Dunkin' Donuts French Vanilla coffee and a Boston Cream donut

11:00 AM - Diner Breakfast: 3 eggs, ham, sausage, bacon, hashbrowns, toast with butter. And a piece of cherry pie.

1:00 PM - Homemade Minestrone Soup. Cheese and crackers. Cookies.

3:00 PM - More cookies. An apple. Assorted mixed nuts.

5:30 PM - Dad's homemade ravioli with meat sauce. Tomato and mozzarella salad. Gorgonzola cheese. Bread. Mom's homemade German Raw Apple Cake.

8:00 PM - B and I debate stopping at Dunkin' Donuts (again) to experience first-hand the three kinds of chocolate in the Triple Chocolate muffin. We also consider stopping at Wendy's for a Frostee-Freeze. Sadly, we do neither.

9:00 PM - Cookies.

11:00 PM - Cheese and crackers.


Almost Week 1

The first week of the new ridiculouschick stress management plan is almost over. Let's recap.

1. Eating: For all the days that I *haven't* been projectile vomiting, I've been on Body for Life. And I've just ordered from FreshDirect so we should be covered for the next two weeks.

Some of might remember the last time I did BFL (2003). For those of you that don't, Sunday is a free day and you can eat whatever you want. I'm going to brunch with The Lawyer and then to The Jerz for Dad's homemade ravioli. Bring it!

2. Exercise: I ran three miles on Sunday, and I'll be going to Yoga tomorrow. I'm looking into canceling NYSC and joining the gym in my building. And I've got two running partners and an intent to run the half marathon again.

3. Sleep: Eh. This weekend it's all about napping.

4. Health Month: Haven't had an alcoholic beverage. So far.



Last night, B and I had our long-awaited apointment with The Animal Behavioralist.

(Well, it was probably just long-awaited for us, since the rest of you aren't living in our house with Demon Dog. In short: Stewie, B's dog, and now my dog - kinda - is having adjustment issues because I've moved in. These have taken the form of aggression, and, in one instance, him treating my arm like it was 'made outta ham'. 90% of the time, Stew and I are buddies. The other 10%? Mortal enemies. )

Part of the 'Behavior Modification Plan' is that Stewie is no longer allowed to sleep in our bed. (Duh.) So last night, we successfully maneuvered him into the kitchen, put the gate up, and decided to go to bed early, the bonus being that our sleep would not be disturbed by Stew climbing all over us during the night as he usually does.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Around 4:22 am (ok, not around, at exactly 4:22 am) we were both jolted awake by the sound of the heater in our bedroom. This was very disturbing as one has to manually turn the heat on, and neither of us had done so.

Which left us, at 4:22 am, lying awake and wondering if the apartment was suddenly inhabited by some kind of heat-seeking poltergeist. And then remaining awake as the room became overly warm with no way of turning the heat off.

Very simply, a good night's sleep - is it possible? Me and my New Year's Resolution need to know.


Talkin' 'Bout A Resolution

1. We all know that my job is stressful. This will not change, even if my boss gets less crazy. There is no way that you can do what I do and not get stressed about it.

(An aside: I need to find a way to explain what I do which won't result in instant conversational death. Last night, B and I went to a party, and because it was a New York City party, the talk always turns to what you do for a living. Here's how it goes down (always):

Anyone: So, what do you do?
Me: I'm a Social Worker.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of social work?
Me: I work with people who have experienced trauma.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of trauma?
[You'd think that most people would pick up on my evasiveness, but no. They don't.]
Me: I'm a therapist for survivors of sexual assault, childhood sexual abuse, and domestic violence.
Anyone: ~silence~
[Alternately, sometimes, you get a disclosure of past or present trauma. I'm not sure which I prefer.]

2. Most people are aware of the basics of stress management. Exercise, plenty of sleep, eating right, etc.

3. For 2008, I'm gonna have to be really careful about honoring the stress management part. And adding a little extra - some yoga (thanks for the Christmas gift, B!) and knitting (thanks for the list of NYC yarn shops, ChiChiMama!) and being around people who nurture and support me.

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

To reward myself for making it to one full year without having a cigarette, I spent the day vomiting.

On the plus side, I'm pretty sure I haven't absorbed any calories, so the nutrition plan is going well.