Monday, December 29, 2008

Measles Mumps Rubella






Here is a picture of measles:



Wikipedia says this is a picture of a kid with mumps. I suspect it is just an Augustus Gloop kid. Regardless, notice the swollen cheeks.


This is a picture of Rubella.



After the oil cleansing method's massive failure I decided to get back on some kind of acne medication. This was an extensive 2 months-long ordeal involving the insurance company and 2 stupid doctors and a bunch of frustration, until I finally went and saw a dermatologist that I liked. He prescribed me Retin-A and some other stuff.

The derm said that about 25% of people get worse before they get better but to "stick with it!!" I believe he may have been disingenuous about that figure, or I fall into the 25%. But basically, Retin-A was like, "Oh, what? You were self-conscious and upset about your face? Hm? You bail all the time on plans because you don't like to go out in public. Oh, well fuck you. Here, let me make you look like you went to get the MMR vaccine but it went horribly, horribly wrong and mutilated your face." For like 4 days my face just got worse and worse. The bottom of my face was all swollen up like Mumps up there. I will spare you the details of some of the nasty bumps, but it was a bad, measeley, pussy scene. And then it got red all over and hot and rubellaed. And also really hurt a lot. And also peeled and was flaky on top of the symptoms of MMR. Pretty awesome. This was all while I was home over Christmas...so the plus side is that I at least didn't have to come to work with my deformity. The negative was that my family, who I only see twice a year, now has to live for the next 6 months with their last memory of me looking like every Proactiv before image layered on top of each other.
It is now pretty much back to what it looked like when I went to the dermatologist and itches. Woo progress.

Anyway, supposedly my skin is gonna look sogood once it gets better. Fingers crossed, otherwise I am probably going to have to get a face transplant. I have decided that this is either a lesson on how to love myself from the inside, or punishment for every bitchy thing I have ever said about another girl.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

blog views

man I need to start posting more...my average blog views just keep going down and down.

Anyway, I got home about 2 hours ago...from home....it's hard and weird being bicoastal...as soon as I get to Oregon I feel comfortable and happy...and then as soon as I get into New York I feel comfortable and happy...but in different ways and for different reasons in both places.

Anyway, Christmas was nice. It felt kind of thrown together to me, and that may just be because I procrastinated and was working so hard in the weeks up to Christmas I never really felt in the Christmas spirit. I got a Wii and a really awesome quilt that my mom made. Plus a check for "student loan" payments in a card that said something about starting off the new year with a little student loan help. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a reminder that you're drowning in debt.
I kid. I feel like I got really spoiled this year...I think my parents miss me.
I definitely gained about a thousand pounds...I don't know how it's possible for pants to get that much tighter in 4 days.
Something like half of all New Year's resolutions are weight related...and 75% fail.
I cannot fail though, because....
my sister got engaged!
Which is crazy!
She has been with her boyfriend (fiance!) for about a year and a half. I got to spend some time with him at Christmas and he is a good guy and I think will be a welcome addition to our family. He proposed to her today, and she texted me with a pic of the ring while I was in the cab on the way home from the airport as her way of letting me know. I cried, apparently I was the only one...Ashley said she didn't even cry and I guess my mom didn't either. I'm such a sap.
But, I guess afterwards they were talking about it, Ryan said, "oh you're sister's gonna be pissed that I didn't do it while she was here" Which is funny, because after I said "oh my god!" I said "I am pissed at Ryan! Why didn't he do it while I was there!"
Anyway he had some whole cute way he was gonna do it. Anyway, I am happy for them.

So that's about it. I have a whole comment on the Whopper Virgins commercial nonsense I think I will write about later. Oh also my new favorite thing is Ruby on the Style channel. It's about this obese woman trying to lose weight. She is very likeable and I always feel kind of inspired.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

the good news


Frank told me today that he is moving out because he got a job in D.C. He will be out by Feb 1 at the latest. For me, this means:
A complete elimination of snapping, clapping and laughing excessively at tv shows.
A 50% reduction in smoking inside.
A 50% reduction of poop stains in my toilet.
A 25% reduction in dirty dishes left in the sink for an excessive amount of time.
A complete elimination of football and ESPN watching.
A 25% increase in household cleanliness.
A complete elimination of my-milk-drinking.
A 25% reduction in awkward common area silences.
A complete elimination of loud nose blowing.
A 50% reduction in smoker's cough.

And, unfortunately, a 25% reduction in blog material.



I am going to head the steering committee on finding a roommate that I actually like. I am pretty sure that Asperger's and Stoner don't give a shit.

Hopefully this will work towards alleviating my crushing depression.

In other news, my episode of Judge Karen re-ran on Thursday. So my parents and my sister finally got to see it. Unfortunately, my friend Alex in Eugene who was the only person I knew for sure could figure out how to put it on the internets drunked out and forgot to DVR it. He did write me an email saying he was sorry...but that doesn't bring Judge Karen back, does it Alex?!?! Anyway, that's the sad news for those of you to whom I keep making empty promises of an internet showing. My mom thinks she may be able to do it...we'll see.
ALSO someone came to my blog after googling "judge karen bedbugs". How awesome is that? They saw my episode and were curious to learn more about this case. Fortunately for them my blog is a wealth of material on both bedbugs AND Judge Karen. I'm on my way to the big time, friends.

Friday, December 12, 2008

he's just not that into you(r birth control)


From Jezebel via New Scientist: A study suggests that ovulating women are more susceptible to being hit on. Who knew the pill could also prevent you from giving a douchebag your number? That's contraception we can believe in. [New Scientist.

In my opinion, in addition to ensuring that you will be going home alone tonight, being on BC also prevents you from sustaining a relationship. I submit as evidence, three stories:

1. The day that I most recently got dumped I had also gone to the doctor to get a new acne medication. Antibiotics interfere with the effectiveness of birth control, and since this dude and I were having unprotected sex I thought maybe I should quit playing russian roulette with my uterus. So I asked for a non-antibiotic acne medication. Dumped later that day.

2. A friend of mine had started seeing someone and they had slept together a couple times, so she decided she should go back on birth control. She went and got herself hooked up with the pill, and I believe she got dumped that same day...definitely that same week.

3. Another friend of mine was casually sleeping with somone and also decided that she should maybe get on the BC. Once she got the prescription she never saw him again.

Sometimes they say that a girl had a baby just to keep her man. But clearly, she just quit taking birth control in order to keep her claws in him and the baby was just an unfortunate fertility side effect.

P.S. I am pretty sure that, given the amount of unprotected sex I have had while on birth control AND antibiotics, and the lack of pregnancy, I am infertile.

what is it i must do to pay for all my crimes

My junior year in college I lived in a "suite" with 3 other girls that I had transferred in with in the second semester of my sophomore year. A suite was 4 individual rooms, kind of separate from the rest of the dorm hallway, with a shared bathroom and a shared little hallway. Well, it turned out that the only thing any of us had in common was that we had transferred at the same time, and by fall break things were starting to get kind of miserable.
So one night I was smoking pot in my room with a couple of friends, and the most uptight of my roommates burst through the door. Now, the marijuana has apparently impeded my memory formation so I don't remember if she had asked me before to not smoke or what. All I remember is her standing in my doorway yelling something about me sleeping my life away and threatening to go to the dean of students, and me pretty much just laughing in her face. I am pretty sure I did not quit smoking pot in my room after that though.

The other night Stoner and her friend Bo were standing in the kitchen, which is right outside my room, talking very loudly at about 3 am. The babies and I had been sleeping, and Lucy stretched and shook her head which made the tag on her collar tinkle a little. Then I hear stoner saying to her friend, "Oh, are you looking for a kitty?". So I'm in bed thinking, "Um, is he looking into my room..because that's not cool." Her friend replies that he "heard a little jingle jangle." And I guess he decided that a little jingle jangle is how fat cats say hi, because he took some keys and jangled them outside my door. And jangled some more. Then sighed and said "no kitties". But, just in case, he gave the keys a few more jangles.

It is again 3 am. I woke up because someone was buzzing on the intercom. Twice. Frank ended up getting up and going to the intercom and what do you know, it's Jingle Jangle, come to see Stoner. Frank knocks on Stoner's door, but she doesn't answer and I guess Frank went downstairs and told J.J. to go away or something. Stoner came out of her room about a minute after Frank had gone back into his roo,m, so obviously had woken up during this whole thing. I imagined her reclining in a fainting chaise, "oh just send him away! I can't be bothered."

So I am sitting here thinking about what I could have possibly done to deserve this. What kind of karmic retribution am I paying...

And then I remembered that incident my junior year. Karma comes back three fold, bitch.

Monday, December 1, 2008

i read with every broken heart we should become more adventerous

Well, I was dumped today. Via e-mail, which rounds out the other ball-less ways people have broken up with me including phone, text message, and instant message. And yet, never in person. In case you didn't already know that I have a shitty track record, this should give you an idea of the type of person I date. I would like the next person who dumps me to do it via telegram.
I didn't want to have to do this. Stop
I like you, but just not enough. Stop
I hope we can keep in touch. Stop

And you may be saying to yourself, wait Caitlin was in a relationship? Wasn't she going on all these other dates? And you are partially right, friend. But I was not in a real relationship. I was only in the type of relationship that I continually am in, which is one that sucks up my life for months and months at a time with someone who likes me, but not quite enough to not be an asshole. Thus, the side-dating with other equally douchy dudes who I vainly hope will be able to commit.

Normally I would be back on the prowl and probably have an immediate one night stand. Maybe even tonight. It's not unheard of. Unfortunately, my skin situation is such that I barely want to leave the house leave lone go on a date where I try not to self-consciously keep my hands in front of my face the entire time. But I did go to the doctor today. Predictably, she admonished me for being a skin picker. I have never heard a convincing enough reason to think that that shit needs to stay inside my skin. Also, I have very few joys in life. One of them is discovery health shows about freaks. Another is picking at my face. Don't take that away from me.

Friday, November 28, 2008

there's a mouse about the house; or, you're a real dude's dude


I woke up in the middle of the night on Wednesday to the squeaking of a terrified mouse that was cornered by Linus "Killer" and Lucy "The Sundance Kid" McFurry-VonMeowerton behind the tv in my room. I really hate that this always seems to happen in the middle of the night, because while I would generally be content to fall asleep and deal with a mouse corpse in the morning, I am afraid that I will in fact wake up to my cats' Thanksgiving feast on my pillow. Several restless hours later I did wake up to clean up the dead mouse in the living room. Fortunately the carnage is limited because once the mouse is dead it no longer holds their interest.

In the morning I mentioned to Frank that the cats had killed a mouse and we talked about it for awhile. Not long after that conversation, Lucy is nosing around in the corner of the living room and sure enough brings a little still alive mouse and drops it at Frank's feet.
Turns out Frank is terrified of mice. And this was a little guy, probably about the same size as the mousie pictured. Frank was crawling up the back of the couch away from this tiny mouserson. I got a dustpan and the little guy just marched up onto it and I set the dustpan on the coffee table.
"Don't leave it there!!" Frank squealed as he went to get the garbage can, into which I dumped the still live mouse. I actually felt really bad about this, but I can't be the one to kill it directly. I learned that what it takes for Frank to actually take out the garbage is a live rodent inside of it. Note to self.
So then today Frank asks me if I have some measuring tape. He explains that he is measuring newspaper. "Oh, are you framing a sports win?" I joked. He looked at me blankly. "Yes. The Giants won the Superbowl" Obviously.
"It's funny," I said, "that I don't really know you very well, but that I guessed that"
"Oh...yeah" Frank said dismissively, "Typical dude stuff."

Yeah, Frank, until you get a baby mouse in front of you, you're a real dude's dude.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

this apartment is starving for an argument


I am pretty much a misanthrope in general, but recently I just want to walk down the street swinging my arms and kicking my legs and god help anyone who gets in my way.

Stoner and Frank had broken windows in their rooms and it has been this whole process trying to get them fixed. And for whatever reason, window guys were scheduled to come on Saturday...at a time when both of them would be working. They asked me if I would be around, and I said I might be but I didn't want to commit to it in case I wouldn't be. So on Saturday as I was getting ready to go run some errands, the window guys came. So because I am a nice person I did not say "Oh, actually, this isn't my problem and I want to go to the fabric store" I stayed for two hours while they fixed the windows.

So when Frank and Hannah come home, obviously they see that their windows are fixed....obviously they weren't there for the window guys...must've been Caitlin. No "Thank you". Nothing. No acknowledgement whatsoever. I am so over it. Like, I know they are inconsiderate, but I guess I keep hoping that because I am the best person ever that maybe it will rub off, but no.

Frank's parents sent him a thanksgiving card. I am going to get their address from the envelope and write a letter asking why they did not teach him any manners. I haven't really seen stoner since her window was fixed, so I am not as rageful at her. But I have a feeling that my loathing might be palpable and I haven't spoken to Frank in days even though our paths cross often.

Then yesterday at the gym it was really crowded and I was waiting for a treadmill. And there is a 30 minute limit on machines when people are waiting. There were a ton of people waiting and a ton of people who were way over the time limit. So after getting no help from the staff at enforcing the rule I tapped one woman on the shoulder who had been on for 55 minutes. She didn't get off. So then another girl who had been on for about 40 minutes saw me do that. Meanwhile, her treadmill is directly in front of the sign saying there is a time limit. So I look pointedly at her and at the sign. Nothing. So then a dude next to her got off and I got on his machine.
So whatever, you wanna be an asshole and hog the machine. Fine. Next time you want a machine someone else will be hogging it because you're an asshole.

But, when this bitch saw that she wasn't going to have to give up her machine, she smirked at me!! That just put me over the edge. I said, "Bitch, you think rules don't apply to you?!!?" But she just kept smirking. Oh man.

Well, I didn't want her to know that I am tubby and can't really run very fast or for very long. So I put the speed way up and was putting all of my anger into this workout. And the whole time I am pushing through by weighing the pros and cons of pulling the emergency stop cord which is so tantalizingly hanging in easy reach. I was in full on cartoon devil and angel on the shoulder mode.
Devil:"Well, I could always join another gym when I get banned because of this"
Angel: "But what if things get out of hand"
Angel "New York Sports Club is $30 more a month, that'll add up"
Devil: "but maybe it's a nicer gym...and you get a discount from your job.....and it's right next door to work"
Angel: "But you would never go on a weekend. What if she punches you and you are a weakling?"
Devil: "What if you have all of these untapped beat-down powers?"

Ok, so my angel conscience mostly cares about paying more for the gym and looking stupid, but it won out in the end. And to be honest, I'm kind of bummed. There are a million gyms in the city, but when am I ever going to get another chance to topple some smug bitch?

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

squeaky clean like a rubber ducky



I did an intake today with a girl who is in a program at her high school for people with "school phobia". Did you know that such programs exist? I did not. Anyway, I asked her to tell me about the other kids in her class. I asked under the pretense that I was interested in if she has any peers she is able to socialize with. But really it was just my own morbid curiosity about what kind of kid is in a school phobia class. Wolf shirt kids, right? But this girl isn't like that, she's cool in a self-destructive Rayanne Graff kind of way, but I imagined she is an anomaly. She said there is a boy who carries a lunch box, but that was the only really good piece. I hope it has a superhero on it. Then we talked about how they were kids who have general social problems and try too hard. But I think my error was in framing the question as having to do with socialization, when really I just wanted to know about freaks.

I am possibly the most self-serving social worker ever.

FYI I carried a sailor moon lunch box in high school. And before you ask, yes it did have an included thermos.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Roommate Live Blog

So when I first moved in here my roommate liaison was Frank and he was the one I talked to the most. And then I learned that he is a huge huge slob (with the exception of coaster, natch). And I thought maybe he and I would be friendly. But then I felt like every time I talked he was completely tuned out and then he would talk about himself and zone out while I was talking. So I got kind of tired of it and quit really interacting with him, and at this point I think I am actually more social with Asperger's.
Well, Frank has what appears to be a date over. Seriously I am sitting across the kitchen table from her writing about her. I am such an asshole. But, really, he shows pretty much the same disinterest in her as he shows in conversations with me.
This is actually really hilarious. I want to live blog all of his dates. Obviously he is interested because he just asked her to a movie on Sunday.
But then she was like, oh well I might have to go to this open house on Sunday.
So then he's like...um...oh yeah, that's cool...I was just...you know...asking...
haha. I love observing awkwardness so much.

Anyway, now I feel bad that I wrote Frank off and I feel like there is all this tension every time we are in the same room because we don't interact at all. And also I am usually seething with bitterness that Lucy loves him more than she loves me. Obviously that's just how he is all the time. Maybe he really wanted to be friends at first and then I wrote him off because he has poor social skills and I thought he didn't want to talk.
He is really a boring person. He probably falls on the autism spectrum too. He speaks in a serious monotone. I should make him talk to me when I have insomnia.

Man I wish I had a webcam for this date. Haha...it's kind of painful.
They're sitting across the room from each other.
I can't tell how she feels about him since she pretty much denied his sunday movie invite.

I should really live blog, like minute by minute. There's just silence right now.

Still silence.

A slight chuckle from Frank because he has ESPN on because he is apparently a jerk. Who keeps ESPN on during their date?

Now the girl just nodded at nothing. She talks really fast but I don't know if it's because that's how she always is or she is just so nervous in Frank's awesome presence. Or maybe she feels like she's being observed, which she is.

Ok, enough of my creepiness for now.

Silence.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

America and Caitlin love cultural diversity


This post is basically just a series of my thoughts from the last 12 hours. I swear it's all connected.

I got the cats this litter that I don't like recently. It seriously sucks...doesn't clump, really emphasizes the ammonia odor quality of feline urine...no good. I like arm and hammer super scoop. So today I went to go get some arm and hammer super scoop. I went to the Pioneer, which is remodeling and obnoxious to go into. No super scoop. C-Town. No super scoop. The weird store next to C-Town that smells weird. No super scoop. The bodega on the corner. No super scoop. Family Dollar. No super scoop. So as I was wandering around to every store within two blocks of my apartment, I was thinking, goddammit this is what I hate about New York. I can't get my fucking cat litter. In other normal cities where they have huge grocery stores within 5 minutes of anywhere, I would be able to get all the different varieties of super scoop - multi-cat AND odor control. I ended up getting Cat's Pride...which is ok, but it's no super scoop.

Anyway, then I was leaving the gym this evening and I said goodnight to the security guard because I am polite and I was putting on my sweatshirt and he motioned me over. He was pointing at the tattoo on my ankle, which I got my senior year in college, of an Om. Pictured above. Mine is red. It's kind of awesome. I am actually always a little wary when an Indian or Hindu person notices my tattoo because I feel like I can't speak articulately about why I have it. It's really more representative of my made up snake and salamander religion, which I also can't speak very articulately about....but, like, I'm not Christian and I would never have a tattoo of a cross. Anyways, the security guard had an om tattooed on his arm. Fortunately, he didn't call me out on being a Hindu fraud and instead talked about how a lot of white people are into Hinduism and he thinks it's just great. Here are some other things I learned about him:
He is from Surinam by way of Holland
Holland is nice
Surinam is nice. There aren't a lot of people.
There aren't a lot of people from Surinam in New York.
He came here in 2002.
His daughter lives in Holland.
Holland takes care of its people better than America.
English is hard to learn.
His nephew may or may not speak good english.

Then I was thinking how much I love new york and the different kinds of people. Sometimes. Sometimes I miss homogeneity. So THEN I was all filled with naive pride for America and opportunities and black men as president. And then I was remembering election night and how it was kind of awesome to be in my neighborhood.
Living in a poor black neighborhood, across the street from the projects, basically guarantees an Obama landslide on my block. And when they called it, the streets were filled with people cheering, honking their horns, shouting, white people hugging black people and general elation. That shit didn't happen in eugene, I imagine....at least not where either my parents or my sister live.
The election also brought me and asperger's together because we watched the returns. I offered her some ice cream. She offered me some beer. And I was reminded of another time when I crossed cultural boundaries. When I worked at the nursing home in Harlem and everyone hated me because I was white, especially this girl I had to share the computer/janitor's closet with. But I noticed that she always read People. And then Anna Nicole Smith died. So I asked her if she had heard anything about why she died. And she offered me a twizzler.
Anna Nicole Smith and Barack Obama aren't so far apart as you might think. They both have united a country. Or, at least me with people who don't especially like me.
Yesterday Asperger's and I watched a documentary about these autistic savant twins. Which 1. was awesome. and 2. was very meta.

Also, I was reading a thing about racist jokes that people had heard since the election, and one of them was that the white house was going to replace the rose garden with a watermelon patch. And my first thought was that they were going to do that for purely gardening purposes. Because I just listened to this episode of Fresh Air with the guy who wrote In Defense of Food, and he wrote an open letter to McCain and Obama encouraging whoever would be in the white house next to replace the lawn with like a vegetable garden. Anyway. I am kind of pleased that that was my first assumption.

Monday, November 3, 2008

my mom is a comic goldmine and also a pothead

Caitlin:oh sarah palin is like you...smoked pot and didn't like it
!
Mom: did i say i didn't like it?
Caitlin: every time you've ever talked about it
Mom: lol
you forgot born in a hospital in idaho!
Caitlin: apparently you were not being truthful
oh yeah...you guys are pretty much soul mates
Mom: except for one or 2 things
Caitlin: haha
including, apparently, your enjoyment of marijuana
Mom: notice i am not asking you
Caitlin: don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to!
Mom: really
did you ask your dad?
Caitlin: yeah once, he said no
he was also lying
Mom: i didn't lie

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Like coming off the pill that you take to stay happy

I am a full two weeks back on anti-depressants, and it pisses me off to tell you that they are working.
Goddamn mental stability!
It pisses me off mostly at myself for thinking that I could stop them, when it was a particularly bad time to try to do so. It pisses me off because I feel like I wasted my summer being depressed because I was too stubborn to take medication.
This summer was the longest I've been off anti-depressants since I started taking them over 10 years ago. And I'm not sure that my life will ever be stable enough for me to go off them again....not like I plan on being some vagabond for the rest of my life, but we always have stuff going on that can be hard and it turns out I can't deal.
I have certainly been depressed while on anti-depressants...usually then I just change the meds or change the dose or whatever. But being on anti-depressants doesn't make me happy. I think I have written before about how much I hate it when people call prozac a "happy pill". I am not an especially happy person. I will never be a happy person. Prozac lets me funtion. Depression is a little cocoon for me. It's actually comforting. On anti-depressants I can actually feel myself coming out of my little depression nest....it's like getting out of bed. There are days when being curled up in bed is pleasant and relaxing, and forcing yourself to throw those covers off and expose yourself to the air makes you feel vulnerable. I really feel like I don't have a blanket over me when I'm not depressed.

Anyway, it's making my life a lot better. Things are going better at my job and it feels more manageable. I get less frustrated with my supervisor, and I don't cry every time I am frustrated.

My roommates make me laugh more than anything. Stoner and her dyke friend were having a burping contest yesterday. That was awesome to listen to.

I threw away another empty bag of cheese that someone left in the fridge.

Tomorrow I am buying toilet paper to keep in my room because I have bought a substantial amount-at least 9 rolls-twice in a row. We are now down to the last roll and someone has brought in a single roll of Scott. Fuck that shit. Charmin's in my room, bitches.

Asperger's has these really short shorts she likes to wear around the house. Like you can see the bottom part of her ass when she wears them. But it's getting cold and we don't have heat. Some people, like myself, stop wearing their around-the-house shorts when it gets that cold. But not Asperger's. She apparently can't give up those fucking shorts. The other day she comes barrelling out of her room like she does and she is wearing the short shorts and what could best be described as thigh-high gym socks. The kind with a couple horizontal stripes around the top except the top part is at the top of her thigh instead of, say, the lower part of a calf. So she stomps through the living room with her asperger's gait and it's: short shorts, little bit of ass, and then thigh high gym sock on down.
I laughed as she was walking by. Fortunately her disorder prevents her from paying attention to her surroundings. She and I watched two episodes of the new duggar show today. I have a lot to say about the Duggars, but that is for next time.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Sad News for my blog

Most of my readers now come from google searches looking for amish friendship bread or pictures of robin weigert. I'm not sure how to feel about that. I doubt they come back for a second read, although hopefully I have deterred people from starting an AFB ring of cinnamon sugar hell.

Monday, October 27, 2008

sunny days sweeipin' the clouds away


It was a beautiful fall day yesterday and I was walking around Brooklyn with my friend and he remarked that the day reminded him of Sesame Street. Now, the day did not remind me of Sesame Street, although walking around in Brooklyn often does. But, what it really made me think about was how much most things remind me of tv shows that I watched growing up. Perennial favorites for references are Punky Brewster and The Cosby Show. As in: Oh, I see that person took the door off the fridge when they put it out for garbage. You're supposed to do that I learned from the episode of Punky Brewster where Cherie gets trapped in the fridge and Punky and Margo have to give her CPR and Allen is no help because he was fucking around when they learned how to do it in class. Or: Oh, I love to sew but I don't think I would ever make shirts...they would end up looking like the faux designer shirt Denise made for Theo with one sleeve to long and all kinds of messed up.
As a matter of fact, if I could compare everything in my life to a tv show from the 80's I probably would.
As I get older, my other TV favorite reference is Friends. As in a recent discussion with my friend about having to go out to lunch for a goodbye party for a co-worker and ordering the second cheapest thing on the menu only to learn the tab was divided equally among the entire group so now I got spaghetti marinara and I have to pay for your shrimp alfredo. Both of us were reminded of the episode of Friends where the 3 poorest friends: Rachel, Joey and Phoebe (at the time -this was while Rachel was still a waitress and Joey wasn't yet Dr. Drake Ramore) are lamenting that they have to go out to fancy dinners with the other three when they can't afford it.
Although the ubiquitous NYC reference show in recent years is Sex and the City, I find that I can in no way relate and it rarely enters my discussions.
But here is my secret confession. The show I think about almost every day, but don't have the guts to bring up in polite conversation: Ghostwriter.
Here are instances where I think about it:
1. Ghostwriter was set in Brooklyn, I live in Brooklyn.
2: Alex's family owns a bodega which I had only ever heard of from the show. Now I go to a bodega several times a week.
3: Community gardens. I pass at least one, and sometimes two, community gardens when I walk to the gym. And every time. Every goddamn time I walk past I think of the Ghostwriter story arc in which the neighborhood is getting sick from vegetables grown in the community garden because some company had buried toxic waste barrels in the garden.
4: There are countless other instances in which Ghostwriter is brought to mind and I am too ashamed to write about them here.

So what tv shows do you find yourself referring to frequently?

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

My fame is unending

I am the comment of the day on Postcards From Yo Momma!

They're usually up for a couple days but in case it's gone, the postcard said was:
I understand how easy it is to get hooked on daytime TV talk shows. This past summer my best friends were the ladies on the view and I finally realized they were not really that interesting most of the time. I was only watching to see what they wore. I also watched the beginning of Ellen on occasion so I would have someone to dance with. Pitiful right? So I went “cold turkey” and found other interests.

And my comment said:
My mom's best friends are the Good Morning America team.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Your own personal hell

Mom: i got tired of the pile on my desk and dumped it in a box--:(
so now i have to sort the box
me: hahaha
i'm sorry
2:30 PM Mom: when i die and go to hell i am sure it will be a place with papers to deal with
2:31 PM me: ha mine would be filled with supervisors and awkward people
oh, wait...


What is your personal hell?

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Re-visiting old friends

There is nothing of interest going on in my life. Frank drank my milk, left a tablespoon of milk and then bought me some new.
Here is a blog I wrote in July of 2007 which is kind of funny. I saw Nelson on the train tonight on my way home. If you don't remember Nelson, he was mentioned in this post as the first neighbor I ever met...the one who has HIV and leukemia (which is apparently in remission).
So I get on the train and I look next to me, and there is Nelson sitting there. I see him every once in a while in the neighborhood and we'll say hi or whatever. So he's sitting on the train and we look over and recognize each other and so I say hi and he gets all queeny and gives me a big hug and says, "Hi!! omg I haven't seen you in ohmygod! I can't even remember the last time I saw you so I'll just say I haven't seen you in ohmygod!"
We chatted like old friends the rest of the way on the train. By that, of course, that I mean he rambled on while I sat there and tried to decide if he was high or just crazy. Topics included: his leukemia, and how it is in remission. His HIV, and how he still has it. His husband's viral load, and how it's slightly higher than they would like it to be. The new diet they are on to try to get his viral load down. Their new business, and how if I ever want to I can get my computer fixed for free. And also, how, apparently he was (just last night) telling his husband how I should come over for dinner.
I do not think this last part was true. 1. he did not know my name. He had to ask me. He later explained it by saying that he couldn't remember my name just now, but that last night he remembered it and was talking to his husband about me and how I'm such a great neighbor. 2. He's just a big crackhead liar. He kept saying things and I was like, you're making this up just right now. He said that he and his husband have been together 20 years, but last night was the first time they'd ever kissed. His husband's birthday is coming up, Nelson doesn't know what to get him but, "girl, you and I should go down to 5th avenue and just do some shopping to get him something. I am going to borrow my mom's car. Do you have a driver's license? Is it valid? Mine is suspended. But I just knew that you would be able to drive. In fact, I had you in mind to drive when I asked my mom to borrow her car."
I am not making this up. And this is how I accidentally invited him to dinner. I just off-handedly mentioned that I was going to be barbecuing, which I guess meant that Nelson and his husband should join Abby and I. In fact! It can be a celebration barbecue, because Nelson has been clean for 11 years...actually! today is the anniversary!
And that is the type of thing that I was like, you're just saying that....I'm not entirely sure that he's clean at all, but even if he is, it just felt like he was making up that this was the anniversary.
As we were walking home he asked a woman if he could buy a cigarette off of her. He then asked me for 50 cents, because he didn't think he had it. I said I had a quarter, and he was like, "oh maybe I have another quarter." So he reaches into his pocket and he totally had like 75 cents in there. Crack head scam artist.
So he decided he should come over at 8:30 for dinner. Crack heads tend to be flaky, so my only hope was that he would forget. It may have been the only hope I had that my roommate wouldn't kick me out. When she came home and I told her that I had accidentally invited Nelson over, she was real, real irritated.
But, fortunately for my livelihood, he did not show up. And that will just teach me to be a little bit quicker on my feet next time I run into one of my crack head neighbors on the train.
Nelson also gave me a juicy juice juice box. I guess it was a fair trade for the quarter he scammed.


Abby was my roommate for a year and a half. And we had a good, but kind of weird relationship. She came home that night and I told her that I accidentally invited Nelson over for dinner. All she said was "Goddammit Caitlin!" and went to her room. Months later she told me that he did stop by at like midnight but I was already in bed. I think she just said that to make me feel bad.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Small Items

I caved and quit OCM. My forehead looks like a rash broke out on it, it's pretty intense. And some people wrote things on message boards about how they should have quit when that happened because it just got worse.

I went to the doctor today because I am going to go back on anti-depressants. Apparently I will be mentally ill for the rest of my life. I'm bummed because I really wanted to quit them...but I also need to be able to get out of bed in the morning and that's not really happening so much recently. So back on we go.

It doesn't help that my living situation continues to blow. Add to the list of items in my fridge that shouldn't be there: empty carton of milk AND a mailing envelope.

Or that my job continues to suck.

I am looking for jobs in Oregon. I probably will move in January if I can.

My internet is super inconsistent here.

I really hate living here. A lot. It's fine when no one is around but stoner roommate was smoking weed and watching tv very loudly with her friends in the middle of the night and my sink is full of dishes.

I waited for the doctor for over an hour. He met with me for literally 5 minutes. I just told him what prescriptions I used to be on and wanted to be back on. And then he wrote them for me. If I had known that it was going to be like that I would have thought of something fun I wanted to be on.

My internet disconnected while I was writing that last paragraph. Hate it here.

On the plus side, since I can't watch the shows I wanted to since two roommates are watching baseball (let the snapping begin!) I think I am going to go to the gym and I wasn't going to.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Dating Disaster # 5: Don't take No for an answer


I met this Dating Disaster at a bar the same night as my date with Awkward Sexual Innuendo Guy. I abandoned ASI guy to meet my friends at the bar. However, they were all kind of talking to people so I was just sitting around. In my experience this is actually the best way to meet dudes at bars, if you're so inclined to want to do that. You're casually social with your friends, enjoying yourself, you don't look grumpy and depressed slumped at the bar by yourself and you're open game.

So this dude and I, David, started talking about the new taco truck they had put in at the bar and just kept chatting. Things were going well and he didn't come off as a douche and I was feeling pretty positive about the whole thing. However, after my disastrous date and a few other recent mishaps I had just decided earlier that day that I was going to go on a hiatus from dating. And if not from dating as a whole, certainly from one night stands and other doomed from the start dating endeavors. Which is why when David invited me back to his place I politely declined. And, because I am more open than anyone needs to be, I actually let him know that unfortunately, just that very day, I had decided not to sleep with people that I don't know.

"Oh nonono!" David said. "I didn't mean it like that...I just want to spend more time with you outside of the bar. I don't want to have sex. Of course not! I'll just sleep on the couch and you can sleep in the bed...I just wanted to get to know you better!"

Ok, ok, so I know this was a line, and I knew it was a line then...but I have the self control of a toddler so of course I ended up going home with him.

This is not actually where the disaster is. The sexy time, the next morning, all of that was really good as far as dudes from bars goes. In fact, I was actually feeling really positively about the whole experience and I had enjoyed spending time with this guy.

About a week later he called me. Another good sign. Even though I am stuck in The Rules 1995 and feel that 3 days should be the timeframe, my standards are low enough at this point that I'll accept a week. So he was at a local bar with some friends and wanted me to come out. This was more points in his favor as I think it's a bad sign when a dude won't introduce you to his friends.

So, still...no disasters here. All in all things were going well at the bar. I was having a nice time with his friends. He was being really sweet. I was feeling really good about everything.
But then we get to the time where he is thinking that maybe we should go back to his place. But I just really didn't want to.

A lot of my DDandCC's happen because I have sex with people way before I should. As sex positive as I am, I do believe that it leads dudes to have less respect for me and it doesn't really bode well for a strong relationship. So I told David that I really liked him and for that reason I did not want to go home with him.

"Oh! Nononono!" David said. "I didn't mean it like that! Of course we don't have to have sex. I just wanted to get something to eat! Why don't we just go back to my place and I'll make some pasta! No sex at all! Just a midnight snack!" (Edit: I was just re-reading this and realized I wrote "sex" instead of "snack". Oh, Freud)

Of course, I know that this is a line. But I'm really, really working on my self control and I explain to him my reasoning and insist that I just really don't want to go back to his place.

Meanwhile we had met this random girl and her mom (the girl was about our age) who were really funny and we had been talking with them. So we talk with them for a while and periodically David would bring up wanting to go back to his place and I would decline.

Eventually I am talking with the women alone and they asked me if David and I were a couple because we were so cute together. I was pretty excited about this because, even if he was being kind of obnoxious about getting me to go back to his place, I felt that it was another good sign.
So I joked, just as David re-entered the conversation, that we were not a couple and had just met recently and that he was trying to get me to go home with him but I wasn't going to because I was a respectable woman.

I thought David would get the joke since obviously he knew that we had already had sex. Boy was I wrong. We left the bar and he flipped the fuck out.

As we're standing out on the sidewalk David starts yelling at me, saying I made him look like an asshole and what did I think I was doing.
I was completely blindsided and I still don't understand why he was mad.
"You were trying to get me to go home with you," I explained. "Plus, you don't know those women and you'll never see them again. What do you care?"
He blustered something about it not being like that and that he just wanted to get something to eat and blah blah stuff I don't remember because I was kind of drunk.
Finally he calmed down, "Let's go get some pizza."

So we went to the pizza place and we're ordering when David realizes he doesn't have any cash.
"Let's just go back to my place and I'll get some cash", he suggested.
"Aaaah! I don't want to go home with you!"
He blustered some more about that he needed to get cash or whatever. Which was total bullshit, obviously, because there are ATMs on every corner in that neighborhood.
We mumbled some apologies as I left.
"Listen." I said. "I date a lot of assholes, and I don't need it from you."
"That's just it! I'm not an asshole!"
"Ok. Well. We're both drunk. Let's talk when we're not."

Predictably, we never spoke again. At first I was hurt, because I actually probably would have hung out with him again. But that just goes back to all of my self respect issues. Because, bottom line, he was an asshole. A not-asshole would take me at face value when I say I don't want to have sex, without an explanation. A moderate asshole would take it after an explanation. But he just wouldn't let it go. Even after we get into a huge fight about it he comes up with some nonsense to get me back to his place.
Ridiculous. It's too bad though because he worked for MAC and totes could have hooked me up. Oh well.

In OCM news: I think I am in the end phases of the purging stage. Not so sure how I feel about it, because I have a ton of red marks. Hoping they go away soon. I've been using the apple cider vinegar toner, which is recommended for the red marks.

In roommate news: I have had maybe 3 conversations with Asperger's. Two of them involved her wanting to be in on cookies I had made and the third is a combination of passing remarks I have made. Today she noted that I do not like local news. Which is true. And I must have mentioned that in conversation number 3. They DO care about me!

Saturday, October 4, 2008

You can live the life you like


I think because my life is so the opposite of what I would like it to be right now, I have turned to blogs that have nothing to do with anything relevant to my current life.
Here is a secret about me...I live in Brooklyn, but I am not really cut out for urban living. What I want, really, is the American cliche. I want a garden. I want to bake my own bread. I want to eat food made from scratch and not delivered by an Asian dude on a bike. I want to sew clothes for my children and experiment with gluten free diets. I want to live alone...with space and cute decor. I want to become a luddite.
In reality, I live in the largest metropolitan area in the US. I am all but tied to my laptop and my DVR. I shop at Target weekly. I have shootings on my doorstep and dead cockroaches in my hallway. I live in a frat house with three other people who don't talk to me. Sure, I try to insert little bits of my fantasy life into my real life. The recent introduction of the OCM is an example. I try to bake bread, but only succeed in making hard tack. I bake my little heart out...and then in my depression binge eat my product. I shop at the farmer's market. I made my own pesto! Using farmer's market basil! I nearly chopped off my finger when I turned on the chopper while I was using my finger to clean it out. Because I am a moron. But it's not enough, so I take refuge in blogs.
My current favorite is Hillbilly Housewife. But there are others. Basically these blogs have a few things in common. Usually they are written by very Christian women. They always have several children. They homeschool. They live frugally. They sew.
The frugal living is what usually draws me in in the first place because I come across these blogs when I am looking for tips for leaving on the cheap. But I don't know what it is that appeals to me that I keep coming back. I think part of it is that these women seem to have it together in a way that really appeals to me. They are organized enough to home school, keep a clean and organized home (all I want!), bake healthy homemade meals AND blog. I can't even manage to blog on regular basis. They clip coupons and know how to shop for deals. They would never impulse buy a $7 half gallon of Edy's American Idol birthday cake ice cream. They would make their own for 50 cents! They buy things in bulk. They use powdered milk.
And obviously I don't want my life to be like that either. One of the blogs I read, the woman covers her hair and "dresses modestly" because of her religious beliefs. And I'm not sure I could ever get on board with powdered milk. I think I would die if I had to homeschool children....not to mention they would all end up with the personality of Asperger's roommate. But I think extreme opposite of what my life is like now somehow becomes desireable...at least to read about, if not live.

Speaking of creating awkward children, I decided to google Asperger's roommate. My original motivation was because I had heard her talking, like almost normally, with stoner roommate. So I became concerned that she actually she hates me specifically, and that it was because she had found my facebook or my blog. Part of the reason I have felt comfortable writing about them on facebook (i.e. status messages that say "I hate my roommates") and in my blog is because they have all shown so little interest in me that I assumed they would never decide to look me up. But what if?
So first I found Asperger's Xanga (people still keep Xangas?). Where she has some angsty entries and song lyrics that are soooo meaningful. She also has a picture of herself- check it out She's all bright and cheery homecoming queen with beautiful hair. She does NOT look like that now. And she does not look like the face of Asperger's in that picture. She walks with a stompy Asperger's gait, ignores people, has short brown hair, bad skin and in general just slouches around.
And here is my favorite part. When she was in college, she auditioned to be in Playboy. Here is the link to the article. Apparently Playboy came to Arizona State where she went to college.

Claire [redacted], a 20-year-old UA student, said her history with modeling and theater prompted her interest in auditioning for Playboy. "It's a good experience," she said. "It's something you can look back on and say, 'I did that.' It's something to be proud of."


Previous modeling experience? If I didn't know that this is where she had gone to school, I would assume it was just another girl with the same name. Because that is not the girl I live with who shuts herself up in her room for hours a day. What happened to her?

In OCM news - so far I'm a big fan. Obviously in 3 days my face isn't completely clear, but I have noticed some differences. 1: My forehead felt like I had buckshot embedded under the skin, and that has dramtically improved already. Sebum plugs to the surface FTW! I can totally feel them coming up when I do it. 2: For the past several weeks I have probably had at least one new pimple every day, and I haven't had any in the 3 days I've been doing it. 3. My skin had been very oily. I would wash my face around 8 am and by 11 am I was already breaking out the oil blotting papers and I would use two and still feel like my skin was greasy. Since I've been doing OCM my skin has been significantly less oily. I used one blotting paper one day and it wasn't nearly as bad.
I've been doing the OCM at night. Some people in the morning just splash their face with water. The one day I did that was the day that I used the blotting paper. So I have been using a neutrogena cleanser in the morning and a little tea tree oil on the spots that are still there and that keeps my face in good shape all day. Today I made a toner from Apple Cider Vinegar and tea. It's supposed to help reduce red marks. I'll report back.
The downside is that it's definitely a commitment. The whole process takes about 15 minutes because I steam my face to make sure the oil really gets out. But otherwise I am a fan.

So that's it for now. I'm going to go back to my embroidery.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

My regime? The regime from which the radicals are trying to get free?


Throughout my adolescence I had pretty decent skin with not a lot of problems...maybe a breakout around the lady time, but not too much else.
Then, on the day of graduation when we had the all-night party that they always have I started to feel a huge cystic pimple on my chin. That single cystic pimple marked the beginning of the end of my manageable skin and that summer I developed the first of many bouts with acne and went on acne medication for the first time.
The skin issues come and go depending on hormones, weather, stress, diet, etc. Currently, I am in the middle of a bad spell with the skin. Not the worst it's ever been, but enough to make me feel pretty gross.
To make it worse I was sick last week - that, combined with the stress of the new job and lame living situation, has caused me to break out in herp of the mouth.
Once, when I was 8 and my sister was 6 we went to Papa's Pizza (the place to see and be seen on a Friday night for elementary schoolers in Eugene, Oregon in 1990). We ran into a kid from my sister's class, Andy. He is actually like some physics genius now, but unfortunately I don't remember his last name. This is because, on that Friday night in 1990 when we ran into him in the play room at Papa's, he had apparently finished his pizza dinner and neglected to thoroughly wipe his mouth. He had pizza sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth. My sister and I ran around and called him Andy Pizza Face....and not just for that night. Oh no. Recently my sister sent me a link to something about some crazy science thing he had done at Harvard. "Oh look!" We exclaimed. "Andy Pizza Face is up for a nobel prize!"
My herp of the mouth makes me look like Andy Pizza Face. But without the credentials.
So in my neverending quest to find a solution for my skin, I am now trying the Oil Cleansing Method.
Check out the link if you wanna, but this is basically it: Wash your face with oil.
People swear by it. People who say they have never had any luck with anything else claim this solved everything.
Here's the downside, apparently your skin goes through a "purging process" as it gets rid of all this shit that has built up, so it gets worse before it gets better. I'm not really looking forward to this. And there is no way of knowing really if it's purging and will get better, or if you have just fated yourself to Edward James Olmos territory.
So, today was day 1. I made my little mixture. Steamed my face. Washed it off. Followed up with some Tea tree oil on the existing problems.
My favorite part is that you are supposed to think relaxing and positive thoughts about your skin getting clear. The Secret + OCM!.
I also really like that it's natural because every once in awhile I get all hippie and decide I need to put less toxins in my body.
My second favorite part is that you are supposed to massage it in until you feel little granules, which are sebum plugs coming to the surface. It's so nasty, I love it.
Anyway, I am willing to give it a month and we'll see. One thing I read said several months, but fuck that, I would rather go to the dermatologist and have them look at me disapprovingly while admonishing me for being a skin picker.
In the meantime, I will take solace in the fact that at least for the next month, every day, I will get to be conscious of sebum plugs. Assuming I don't get bored of the whole thing, which is kind of a process and likely to become tiresome.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

La-la-la-Linoleum (and other L words)



So, stoner roommate has her big dyke friend over. Recently, however, she has had an awkward dude staying here. Leading to more confusion about her sexuality, which, ultimately has zero impact on my life.

They made a frozen pizza which they decided they did not want. So I ate it. In my L word t-shirt that I got for free after I went to a season finale party. While blogging about a one night stand with a dude on my computer which has a human rights campaign sticker on it.

Leading them, I'm sure, to wonder about my sexuality. Which is fluid. The frozen pizza makes it more gay, obv.

Dating Disaster #4: You Won't Last Too Long On Broadway


So this dating disaster was yet another CL find. I had responded to what I thought was kind of a witty ad about words or something equally nerdy. I talked to Jeff on the IM a few times, and he seemed ok. However, he did offer to take me on a trip, which is always weird. I don't know what the deal is with dudes I don't know inviting me on trips. Anyway we had plans to go on a date, but he had to cancel because he had to be on call that day for Law and Order.
Oh yes, this craigslist gem was an actor. He has been on L&O 3 times, which he was sure to remind me about several times. He was quite wounded when I pointed out that everyone in NY has been on L&O -- seriously, one of the social workers at my agency has been on it 3 times.
Anyway, then he had to bail another time, I don't remember why. And then we canceled another time, I think that time it was me. Anyway, I was over it. And then I decided to go on a break from dating, probably because of some other dating disaster.
So then flash forward a month and I am out with a friend gettin' my drank on and I've had a few and we're at WhiteCastle, you know, I get an IM from him on my phone. So I'm all rum and dieted/onion ringed up and I decide that he and I should meet at a bar across the street from my apartment.
And he's a little bit over-anxious. Like I had already seen his pic (headshot. for ser), and he texted me to let me know what he would be wearing. But then he texted me later to let me know that he had changed his mind as was wearing a green shirt. That kind of anxious.
But he shows up at the bar and pays for my drinks, which is a small gesture I always appreciate. And we're talking and having a good enough time as I recall. No idea what we talked about, but he must have been doing all right because I invited him back to my place.
We get back to my place and I go into the bathroom and I come out to find that he has discovered the grand piano in my roommate's room.
"Can I play you something? I was in four broadway musicals, you know."
ugh.
But apparently even that wasn't enough to deter me, because we end up in my room. And we're about to be having sex and he says,
"You're not too drunk are you?"
"No. Why? Are you worried about my ability to give consent"
"No. I just want you to remember how good this is going to be"
At this point, with his dick actually inside me, I laughed in his face.
"What?"
"Um, I can't belive you just said that."
"What? Why?"
"Never mind. Let's just do this"

Note: Sometimes I think people miss part of what is the most hilarious about this anecdote. Because not only was it a ridiculous thing to say. But I was genuinely, earnestly thinking he was worried about gray rape. But no.

So was the sex worth being sober for? Of course not. And it was one of those times where you're just waiting for the dude to finish up cuz the alcohol's wearing off and you're starting to get a headache and you kind of just want to get some water and some advil and hope he doesn't try to cuddle.

However, there were a few memorable parts. As I was running my hands through his hair...I noticed what appeared to be...sewn in hair. Like, I'm not familiar with hair solutions for men....were they hair plugs? A wig? I don't know, but it was like trying to run your hands through the hair of a cheaply made doll.

I noticed also....moles. But I wrote it off and passed out.

First thing I notice in the morning though was those fucking moles. So friends who I have told this to who have a few moles have seemed a little concerned, like perhaps I think they are disgusting. And no. These were not those kind of moles. These were like, yo you wanna get yourself to a dermatologist because I am pretty sure I see these motherfuckers changing size and shape in front of me. Full on pre-cancerous melanomas. All. Over. Everwhere. Face, neck, chest. Sick. I was seriously nauseous.

And of course, he wants to have the morning sex. See And She Was for a description of why morning sex is distasteful. But basically I don't understand why the morning sex after what is doomed to become a one-night stand. I know there is this whole sterotype of women who prefer that men stay over and cuddle (see: When Harry Met Sally), but this is one area where I am firmly dude. Unless I like you, I don't want to cuddle with you. But, obviously this guy didn't get that. Seriously, in mid-thrust at one point in the night (which is where his best conversation took place) he was like, um, so we need to go out again, because I don't usually do this. Ummm.
Anyway, this dude was all trying to kiss on me, and it was a toss-up between giving in and pushing him out of the bed because either way I would have to touch his sick moles. But giving in could possibly mean also having to touch his sewn-in hair, so I got out of bed.
I had to force him out after he tried to invite me on a weekend trip with his friends. Seriously. It happens all the time.

Of course he texted me a couple of times after that. And of course I did not reply. Then, predictably he did the check-in call, which we all know I hate. "Heeeyy Caitlin...iiitt's Jeff....I texted you a couple tiiimes. Maybe you didn't get theeemm?....umm...but, I thought we had a good time? Aaaanyway...call me back". Pathetic. And that was the end of The Actor.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

TV endorses all of your vices

So even if you have just perused my blog because you stumbled upon it when you googled "vermin extermination guilt" or "can mouse poop fumes make you sick" you know that there are pretty much two things at my core:
1. A love of delicious desserts.
2. A love of television.

But last night as I was watching TV and eating a bowl of ice cream, I saw the following two commercials run back to back:



A commercial letting you know that High Fructose Corn Syrup is ok! And then! A commercial encouraging you to stay at home and watch TV during ABC's week of premieres.

Even I think that's ridiculous.

I wish that these commercials followed:
One of those "get out and play" ads
Wilford Brimley talks about the 'beetus
a commercial endorsing the rape of babies
and then finally a "the more you know" ad about protecting children

Saturday, September 20, 2008

in between the place you want to be and where you are

Ok, So I really didn't want my blog to turn into just a bunch of venting about my stupid roommates. But, there are a lot of things I don't want. For instance, I don't want to...live in this apartment any more. I don't want...the binge eating problem I appear to be developing. I don't want....Sarah Palin as vice president. Unfortunately I seem to have no control over any of these issues. So here it goes.
Last time I bought milk, I thought that it seemed that it had gone empty before I thought it should. And i wasn't sure if I had used it up and forgot, or if someone else had used it. So, next time I bought milk I wrote a little "CJ" on the cap, to avoid any milk mixups. Today I went to look at my milks, like you do, and discovered that there was maybe 2 tablespoons left in each the soy milk and regular milk. I do not leave small amounts like that in my milks because it annoys me. You know who does that? Slobs. You know who I live with? Slobs.
But still, I was like, well, maaaybe I used the milk. But then I realized. There are 4 boxes of cereal on top of the fridge (none of them are mine. I can't buy cereal because of aforementioned binge eating problem). There is NO other milk inside fridge. And, come to think of it, I'm not even sure I've ever seen any other milk in the fridge.
And, as in other areas of my life, I see that other people are not buying their own cows, but using my milk for free.

I learn a lot in my new apartment. Like problem solving. there are always several solutions to every problem. For instance, flies are a problem. And, unsurprisingly, a problem in my apartment.
One solution is to sit on the couch and watch football for 6 and a half hours straight with a can of raid at your side. When you see a fly, you get up and spray it.
Another solution is to do your goddamn dishes and eliminate the source of the problem.
Guess which is the preferred solution in my apartment.

Finally I am going to be starting a segment called, "Things in my fridge that shouldn't be there"
So far:
Empty bag of cheese.
Melon in produce drawer that has been there since i moved in and is developing a spotted pattern
Grocery store receipt.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Amish Friendship Bread

Does anyone remember amish friendship bread? Circa 1993?
I've been thinking about it recently and how maybe I'd like to make it. Even though making the starter involves using yeast, and last time I tried to make something using yeast I just made hardtack. If only I were on a merchant ship! Or a slave ship. Anything trans-atantic really. Pair that with some salted pork....you've got some fab scurvy dining.
Well, here is an article from the "Albany News Miner", about why I should not make amish friendship bread. now or ever.
My favorite parts:
The loaf of Amish friendship bread your co-worker brought to work tasted most excellent, so you complimented the chef.

Big mistake.

The following morning you arrived at work to discover a large Ziploc bag of bile-colored goo slouching on your desk. Along with it, a sheet of paper filled, top to bottom, with detailed instructions on how to care for and cultivate the goo, destined to sit and sour on your counter for 10 days as you take turns mushing it, ignoring it, squeezing out built-up-fumes and adding various ingredients — milk, sugar, flour — before the final baking.

I had forgotten about "burping the bag" which is sick. I really can't handle disgusting bodily functions being attributed to inanimate objects. Sick.
Also they don't put that you add in pudding! That's the best part.

“This is the chain letter of food,” said Linda Picarazzi, a baker who lives in South Bethlehem, N.Y. “This stuff requires daily care. So don’t even think about going away for the weekend.”

Since instructions warn bakers to keep a bag of starter for themselves (since it allegedly can’t be made from scratch), and that freezing’s a no-no, law-abiding friendship bread bakers are therefore condemned to an seemingly endless cycle.

I love that you are forced to eat AFB in this Sisyphean baking hell of delicious pudding cinnamon sugar fermented ziploc bag bread. You can't ever stop! It's kind of how I feel about my podcast and blog subscriptions, but with food.

Bottom line, I will not be attempting to start an AFB ring, but I secretly want someone to offer me the baggie. That is also how I feel about cocaine.

OK, so I don't want my blog to just become about my roommates, which is why there haven't been many posts. But there are many mysteries to be solved in this apartment such as: why would someone be willing to live with a cabinet full of mouse poop and dishes in the sink for days BUT use a coaster EVERY TIME he puts down a glass?!
Will awkward roommate ever be not-awkward? Given that she appears to fall on the autism spectrum, I'm guessing no.
Will stoner roommate ever offer up some of her weed? Isn't that the stoner code? Is she a lesbian? If not, why do I see the biggest, butchest dyke (who does not live here) every morning on her way to the shower?
If I paint the living room, will anyone notice? Or care? What about if I take in foster kittens? Haitian refugees?


P.S. Thanks to everyone who supported my goal of making my episode of Judge Karen the highest rated. Now someone get it on the internets so i can email it to my mom (who screwed up the dvr-ing of it).

Monday, September 8, 2008

Judge Karen

My Episode Airs 9/16! Here it's on the CW at 1:30. I hope I can get my DVR by then!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Productivity

I really want to go to the gym. I really do. But there is a Kids By The Dozen marathon on TLC. I was going to go after this last episode, BUT the episode that's on right now is about a family that named their kids Fiddler on the Roof names and they converted to Amish...they call it Plain. Loves it!

Friday, September 5, 2008

Roommate Fail

I don't know if I've ever lived anywhere before where the roommates absolutely failed at taking care of biznass related to, you know, being on top of shit.

This is the roommate breakdown:
Roommate 1: Unemployed, getting PhD in forensic psych (finishing dissertation), looking for job as waiter. Roommate with whom I have had the most contact. Has lived here 1 year.
Roommate 2.: Grad student, socially awkward, have only seen for 5 mins since moving here. Also has lived here 1 year.
Roommate 3. Moved in a month ago. Stoner. Chill. Only person so far to acknowledge unfortunate bathroom sitch (see below).

I don't know if I mentioned it in my last post, but it bears repeating. The apartment smells kind of bad -possibly due to a mouse infestation, which I cleaned up a ton of mouse poop the other day from under the sink and filled up a black garbage bag with other plastic bags so as not to continue to leave a nice little habitat for mousersons. The other odor problem is a broken toilet. There are two bathrooms, which means less inclination to get said broken toilet fixed. But, as roommate 3 said, the toilet is STANK. It is so nasty. I don't know what it was like before...but I think my mover may have peed in the broken toilet. Thus, there has been piss just sitting in the toilet for a week.

So whatev, I have some issues with the roommates in general because they just don't really care about stuff. They had to have known about the mouse, but they just don't deal with it.

So then I was looking at the mail that is around and saw a bill from the electric company and noticed that they had missed a month. Roommate #2 is responsible for bills. So I was like, well I would prefer that bills were paid on time, but everyone forgets a month now and then and it's not in my name so I don't care.

Then I was looking at mail on the kitchen table today and saw a notice from the gas company. Apparently they owe $500 and they are going to shut off the gas.

Fabulous. These are all adults here, but absolutely nothing gets taken care of. It's ridiculous. And I was actually looking for bills to find the cable bill because I think I will take it upon myself to order us DVR. Given that Roommate #1 said he had been thinking about getting DVR since they moved in - 1 year- I'm just gonna go ahead and assume that this place is a DIY kind of deal.

On a positive note I cannot recommend highly enough DiscountContactLenses.com. I was reluctant to order online b/c I wanted contacts right away. But I went to a place by my work to pick some up and they were charging $35 a box. DCL.com was $13 a box. I put in my order and they emailed me 2 hours later (record time!) to say it had shipped. I ordered the expedited shipping (making the total per box about $16...still way cheaper), and they came today! And I ordered Weds!
Total fan.
Also, the new TJ's is opening up like 4 blocks from my work.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

the pleasures of the first world

I moved today. And, as I wrote about before, I am still nervous about this apartment. I think a few decor changes and a good scrub down will fix it right up. But the room I think is the smallest I have ever lived in, maybe not including dorm rooms. And the apartment has a funny smell, which, again, I think could be remedied by some cleaning and some candles.

Meanwhile, Hurricane Gustav looks like it's about to demolish New Orleans (again). And I can't read about this stuff. Because then how can I legitimately feel sorry for myself..."oohh waaah....my apartment that is not about to be destroyed is too smaaallll" "booohooo...my back hurts from moving all of my possessions, and not even just the ones that mean the most to me." Other people and their catastrophes really rain on my self-indulgent pity parade.

The movers were two hours late coming and they did not call. I was pissed because I was aready at the storage unit and just had to sit on the sidewalk with all my stuff like an abandoned kid. For two hours. It wasn't like I was at home and could dick around finishing stuff or plug the tv back in or something. After they were done moving and I paid them, the mover had the gall to ask me for a tip. Are you kidding me? You're gonna ask me that after you were two hours late. What a jackass. Irreminded him that they were two hours late. So then he whines, "you're on the third floor. I got all sweaty"
That's right asshole, cuz you're a MOVER....you MOVE things....and when one moves, one gets sweaty. Deal. I did not give him a tip. My tolerance for being ripped off is pretty much nil at this point.

Oooh my life is so saaaddd...I had to argue with a guy to not tip him the equivalent of the average monthly income in Ethioooopia.

Boo to social consciousness.

Friday, August 29, 2008

D-d-d-d-downgrade

I am moving tomorrow. I am really nervous about this apartment because there are 3 other roommates. I don't actually like other people, so this is kind of a lot for me. Plus, I think they may have been a little disingenuous about how clean they are.
But there it is.
And, basically, I can never move again, because in the 4 years that I have been an actual grown up, my quality of living has just disintegrated.
The first place I ever lived on my own was 2 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, with a garage, dishwasher, garbage disposal (there's another small pleasure. How great is it to not have to fish crap out of the sink. Ugh it makes me nauseous just thinking about it.), washer and dryer!, etc. for which I paid $450 a month.
This place will be 3 other people, a room that is smaller than I thought it was when I first saw it, and of course none of the modern conveniences that I would like to be a part of my life. Someday soon we will be reunited, washer and dryer....dishwasher, you can come too.
However, I will have cable again, which means I can quit watching Everybody Loves Raymond. AND i will have cable in my room, which I have not had since that first place 4 years ago....and if there's anything I love, it's living the life of a recluse. Just me on my bed with my cats watching tv.
Blah blah blah I know that was in Oregon and now I'm in New York and it's different...but it has just been a steady decline since then.
Anyway, I should be packing, which is why so many updates.

Small Pleasures.

So I am in a training today, which basically everyone has said is pointless, but is an agency mandate. <3 pointless beauraucratic tasks.
I had this training all day yesterday too, but my internet was blocked. Today, it's available. It's small things like that that keep me going. So here is a list of other small things that I enjoy.

Filling up my weekly pill container:
Until my school insurance ran out and I had to quit taking my antidepressants, I took a lot of medication daily...this has been for the past decade. I still take a fair amount because I love vitamins. So every week I fill up my weekly pill thing and it gives me an immense amount of joy. I like the organization of it. I like the consistency of the routine. I like taking pills out of big jars and putting them into small containers. I can't wait until I am old and I have one of those huge ones that has compartments for morning, noon and evening.

Vitamins:
I am a complete sucker for herbal remedies. I am the reason that those companies make so much money. I love to research ailments on the internet, find the appropriate herbal/vitamin cure, spending $10 on 30 pills and waiting for miracles to occur. Many of these don't last for whatever reason - the pills are too big, I forget about them, I decide that my ailment is cured (as in the case of my elevated liver functions, for which I took Milk Thistle for 2 weeks and then returned to normal liver functioning). I particularly love when the come in gummy or delicious varieties, which leads me to:

Vitamin B12 sublinguals:
I cannot emphasize how much I love these. I am taking gummy ones right now and they are an unsatisfactory replacement. When I have the sublinguals, I look forward to my twice daily B12 dose. So delicious. Buy them. Also, it's almost fall, while you're in the vitamin section, buy the Vitamin C gummies that are shaped like orange slices.

When The Subway Comes Right As I Get On The Platform:
Self explanatory. I don't have to run. I don't have to wait. It makes me feel like it will be a good day.

Making New Star Charts
I use star charts to track goals. Sometimes I achieve the goals, sometimes I don't. But a new star chart is just filled with possibility.

That's all I can think of for now.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Fall Line-Up

OK, this is to address Amy's question about the new 90210.
My thoughts are:
Do I think it will be good? Not at all.
Will I watch it? Most definitely.
And, assuming it's not unbearable, I will likely watch the whole season.

I love TV so much. Unashamedly.
I was watching commercials for new shows and shows I love that are returning and I get really excited. I don't care that it makes me the equivalent of a shut-in to have 3 hours of shows per night that I watch. It doesn't bother me that I care more about what's going on with Blaire and Serena than John and Barack.

I am proud that I am working on becoming a morning person so I can go to the gym in the morning and be available for my shows in the evening.

Because I think it's a sentiment that bears repeating, here is a post from my myspace blog from last year:
i don't like it when people write anything the lines of "kill your television", "television rots your brain", "i don't have time to watch tv" or "there are so many more things to do than watch tv".
bullshit. every time you come home you wanna go white water rafting or reorganize your kitchen cabinets? of course not. sometimes you want to come home and watch my super sweet 16 and just sit....if you don't, once you're done reading vegan cookbooks and re-enter the real world you won't be able to have a conversation with normal people, because normal people don't want to hear about all of the different ways to process the soy bean.
but more than that i hate people who write "i don't have/make time for tv, but when i do...." and then they go on to list about 25 shows that are all American Idol, Dancing With The Stars and SpongeBob....Eff that...you can't have both...you can't appeal to the people listening to classical music and studying walking sticks, and the mindless masses who love American Idol...it's one or the other....either you don't watch tv because you're too busy loving dragons and all mythical creatures or you're normal...own it.