Blog Move

I've started a new blog to chronicle our adventures in South Carolina. Check it out here!

Pinch me

It's over, it's really over. My days in corporate America are over, at least for now. My last day of work was a week ago and I've been living in Philadelphia ever since. The pure unadulterated bliss that I felt when I exited the agency for the final time was immeasurable. It was like a huge weight lifted itself off my shoulders and fluttered away into the sky. The clouds were whiter, the sky was bluer, the world was brimming with joy and wonder. I practically skipped to the bus.

It's a week later and the joy has not subsided. I wake up everyday whenever my body feels like it, not when it's jolted awake by an alarm clock. And when I do finally ease into the waking world I'm not grumpy, panic stricken or full of dread. I'm calm and relaxed and ready to (slowly) face the day. I report to no one. I have no deadlines, no cubicle, no constant phone calls, no demanding clients, no whiny coworkers, no mailbox over size limit, no 9 AM meetings, no "brainstorming", "strategizing," or "tactical planning" meetings, no teleconferences, no buzz words, no passive aggressive emails, no small talk, no aggravating commute, no lines at the microwave, no obnoxious pages over the intercom, no dress code nothing. Just ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

And now that I'm out of my old apartment I'm free of my filthy roommate and all the crazy that came with her. I stayed with Chris in Chinatown for a few days and it was nice to be together so much after a year spent long distance. But Chinatown was not for me. Frankly, it smells awful. And he lives with 4 other people in a hot sauna of an apartment. Without cable. It's not an optimal environment for my retirement lifestyle. So now I'm staying at my friend Brian's house, known henceforth as Camp Brian. He's got a big house with a giant flat screen, no random roommates, a comfortable couch and a refrigerator full of miller lite. I couldn't ask for more. I know Chris having me there, but after living in suboptimal conditions for a year, I'm no longer willing to settle. This is my retirement and I'm doing it the right way. Until Brian kicks me out.

So what am I doing with my retirement? Well I have big plans once I get down south, as evidenced by my bucket list. But my stay in Philadelphia is strictly for leisure. No stress and very minimal movement. Some (Chris) would hate the thought of such an inactive lifestyle. But when I was living in New York, all I wanted was some peace and relaxation. And now that I have it, I'm incredibly grateful. I just hope I'm physically able to get off the couch when it's time to move down south.

One week

Only one week to go until it's my last day of work and the adventure begins. It feels like the week is going by at the speed of a flock of mall-walkers.

Eye on the prize!

This past weekend was my last weekend living in New York city. A couple of friends were up from Baltimore so I spent most of my time with them. Friday I got out of work at 1:00 and proceeded to drink until 3:00 in the morning. Saturday I woke up and was reminded why I gave up drinking all those times. Sack of bricks, meet my stomach. But because it was my last weekend here, I soldiered through it and went out again that night. We were all home and exhausted by 1:00, lamenting about how old we'd gotten. Appreciate the carefree drinking of your youth, kids. It's temporary.


Sunday I met my friend Cara's newborn baby Rogan. I love newborns; they're just so tiny and innocent (and don't talk back). By the time I left her place I was overflowing with the desire to to settle down and start a farm of babies. Luckily, a marathon of 16 and pregnant was on which quickly counteracted any maternal urges I was experiencing. 27 hours of labor?! How do you not give the kid dirty looks for the rest of it's life?

All in all, it was a great weekend. I saw old friends, I realized (again) why alcohol is the devil, I held new life in my arms, and I realized the importance of refilling my birth control. And 10 lbs later, my mind is clear and I'm back on the prohibition wagon. Now I'm counting down each second of each day until freedom. By no means do I think that everything will be perfect once we're there. I'll miss my friends, and the accessibility of everything in the city. But fresh air, clear blue skies and a house of our own sounds pretty damn appealing right now. And after last year there was no way I was enduring another northeast winter. No. friggin. way.

The plan is that I'll move out this weekend, stay in philly until the weekend of the 16th, trek down to Baltimore to stay with friends for a week then fly to Greenville on the 21st and hang out until Chris gets there on September 2nd. Of course, like everything else in my life, that is subject to change daily. I didn't want to stay in Philly with Chris for all of August because a) China town smells awful, b) he lives with 5 strangers and c) he doesn't have cable. So yes, my entire travel plans are basically built around wanting to sit on a couch and watch television for hours (without smelling hot fish). But I can't wait for us to finally be playing house together. I think our laid-back personalities (and seperate bathrooms) will make it a relatively painless transition. And conveniently, there is a shed out back for when he misbehaves.

Slow down, life is waiting

This NY Times article does an excellent job summing up how I've been feeling about life lately

Excerpt:
We need to reduce the speed limits of our lives. We need to savor the trip. Leave the cellphone at home every once in awhile. Try kissing more and tweeting less. And stop talking so much.

Listen.

Other people have something to say, too. And when they don’t, that glorious silence that you hear will have more to say to you than you ever imagined. That is when you will begin to hear your song. That’s when your best thoughts take hold, and you become really you.

Signs from the Universe

The day I decided to quit my job and move down south I received this Note from the Universe.

You are the right person, this is the right time, you've paid your dues, you're thinking the right thoughts, you're doing the right things, and this very moment, you are exactly where you're supposed to be... poised for the happiest time of your life.

Dang, Zina!

The Universe

Talk about signs...

Early Retirement

I like to say that this move down south is my early retirement from Corporate America. Of course, I'll eventually have to get a new job. But for now I'm going to live off my savings and focus on doing things that I wasn't able to do with the distractions of working. So I've made an in-progress list of things I want to do during my "retirement".

Retirement list:

• Learn Spanish
• Go white water rafting
• Volunteer at an animal shelter
• Volunteer at a hospice
  
• Foster an animal
• Build a house with Habitat for Humanity
• Do a cleanse
• Apply to school (write essays, request transcripts, take GRE etc.)
• Buy a bike (and use it)
• Turn our house into a home
• Submit jokes to late night shows
• Read 20 books
• Donate to Goodwill
• Find the gays - befriend them
• Throw a dinner party
• Grow a garden
• Learn to cook (better)
• Write a business plan (top secret project)
• Give up bottled water
• Lose 10 lbs
• Take a road trip to New Orleans
• Get South Carolina driver's license
  

New York I love you, but you're bringing me down

It's time to dust off the ole' blog. A lot has happened in the last few months.

Chris and I had been dreaming about moving to California for almost a year. But I don't think either of us realized just how huge of an undertaking it would be. How do we get out there? What do we do about transportation once we're there? Where do we live? What do we do for work? How do we choose where to live if we don't know where we're working? What if we don't find work? Etc. etc. It seemed like there were more questions than answers. There was no clarity in sight. I felt like no progress was being made. Like I would be trapped in the northeast jumping from one mind-numbing corporate gig to another for the rest of my life. I didn't want to move up the corporate ladder, I just wanted to jump off it.

I felt like the LCD Soundsystem song:

New York, I love you

But you're bringing me down

Like a rat in a cage

Pulling minimum wage

New York, I love you

But you're bringing me down

On top of that, there was the whole issue with insurance. It was a waiting game. When would they approve the dental procedure? My lease was up Aug 1st, and I needed to know what to do. Sublet an apartment for a month in hopes that it would be approved? But what if it turned out it wasn't approved...then I'd be stuck here another month. And so my life continued to be consumed by questions. I knew I had to either make a real exit plan or just resign myself to the corporate life for another 4 years (or more).

But option 2 wasn't an option at all. I'm not the type who can pretend. If I'm not happy at a job, I can't convince myself to just suck it up. And it's not fair to my employer to have an employee who just doesn't care about the work they're doing.

To be clear, I am grateful to have a job. I know there are millions of people who are unemployed and desperate for work. But I don't believe that just because there is a recession you should stay at a job that makes you unhappy. Especially if you have the means to get out. Because I made a good salary at my job, I was able to save money each month. Eventually that money added up to the point where I felt comfortable giving up stable income, at least for a few months. My mother always told me to save, save, save. And that advice has never been more true than the last year.

At first I thought I'd just stick around for another month. I saw a few apartments and found one that I really liked. But something stopped me from jumping on it right away. Finally I decided I'd take the apartment and contacted the guy. It was already taken. At first I was sad.The apartment had been perfect. Then I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, this was a sign. A sign that I wasn't meant to just "stick it out." Maybe it was time to just GO.


So Chris and I talked, and talked and talked and by the end of the conversation we had a plan. A plan that had eluded us for so many months. We realized that we had an opportunity to get the escape that we wanted, it just happened to be in a different state than we'd planned. After 3 decades spent in the northeast, my mom packed up and moved to South Carolina a couple years ago. Then, a year ago, she bought a second home to rent out. Luckily the tenant she was considering fell through. So that is where we will live, for now at least. It's a 3 bedroom house with a huge backyard where we can stretch out and play house. The rent is low so we can afford to live off our savings. The town has a bustling downtown so we don't have to give up our social lives. And the economy is good down there so hopefully we can find jobs (eventually). And there is no crazy landlord, security deposit, upstairs neighbors, or obnoxious roommates to deal with. Even if we don't stay there long, it is the break that we need.

And suddenly things are going rapid speed. I quit my job on Monday. My physical results came back and they were perfect. My dental procedure will happen on the 28th (the insurance company finally approved it). I move out of New York on the 30th and will crash on a friends' couch for the last 2 days of work. I timed my last day of work so that I will have insurance for all of August, in case there are any dental issues. Chris will quit his job in mid August and as of September 1st he'll be ready to go. We're not sure yet if I'll fly down ahead of him and get stuff ready or if I'll live in Philly for the month and drive down with him. All we know is we're going. It feels amazing to finally have an exit plan. Coworkers and friends have been very supportive and happy for me. This just feels right. New York, I love you, but I'm ready to move on.

Quitters always win

I'm quitting my job in a week. I just thought you should know.

Details to follow.

California we have a problem

For a month or so at least.

And it's all because of a baby tooth. One of my baby teeth doesn't have an adult tooth underneath it. I had the same problem on another tooth and had to have it removed and an implant inserted. I won't go into the nausea-inducing details but it's an expensive process that takes a few months. i knew that I'd have to get it done eventually but was planning to hold off for as long as possible since it's so expensive. But when I went to the dentist last week he told me the tooth had to come out.

Ugh.

And that my insurance would cover a significant portion of the costs.

Oooh?

Apparently the reason insurance didn't cover it for the other tooth was because I had different insurance when I initially had the tooth removed. Obviously I'm going to get it done if insurance covers it. Unfortunately that means I'll have to stick around for a couple more months until the process is complete. So as I'd feared, insurance is holding me hostage at my job. Curses! That also means I need to start looking for a new apartment as my lease is up in a month. It's disapointing but I'm not that upset about it. I'll be able to save more money and have a shiny new tooth.

The procedure is scheduled for tomorrow and then I have to wait for it to heal before they can screw the new tooth on. I'll have more details on how long it'll be tomorrow. Hopefully not too long. I really can't fathom spending another winter in the east coast. Last winter was B-R-U-T-A-L.

Text Life

I recieved this text today from Jill out of the blue (as are all of her texts). If I had to sum up Jill in a text message, this would be it.



*if she'd texted me while I was listening to a different song (ie. Taylor Swift), this would've never seen the light of day.

I went to Rwanda and all I got was this national healthcare

In my last post, I mentioned that my only fear of quitting my job is losing health insurance. Interestingly, right after I wrote it, I stumbled upon this article about national health insurance in Rwanda. Some food for thought.

Excerpt:
He met an American college student passing through last year, and found it “absurd, ridiculous, that I have health insurance and she didn’t,” he said, adding: “And if she got sick, her parents might go bankrupt. The saddest thing was the way she shrugged her shoulders and just hoped not to fall sick.”

Click here for the full article

Progress is a town in Texas

Holy crap it's almost July!

To be honest, progress hasn't really been made on the trip planning. Chris is applying for a job that would keep us on the east coast for a few more months. He really wants this job so I am willing to put the trip on hold temporarily. Best girlfriend ever. I am still planning to quit my job and leave New York City at the end of July. I might get a freelance job in Philly or move down to South Carolina for a couple months or travel abroad. It's all up in the air until we hear back about this job. For some people this would cause panic, but I operate best under pressure.

I have 3 doctors appointments to make sure everything is okay with my health before I quit. It's my only fear about giving up my job: that I'll get sick and be without insurance. Until Universal Healthcare kicks in, such is American life. If I get a clean bill of health, I'm good to go. I'm so ready for this adventure. After five years of floundering in maddening office jobs, I want a break. Will I end up back in corporate America? It's a possibility. But I hope that I'll take advantage of this adventure to figure out what I really want to do.

It's easier said than done. I'm an inherent contradiction. I crave both adventure and stability. And as much as I hate working a 9 to 5, it does provide stability. Luckily I am in a relationship that will hopefully provide the stability I require while we pursue the adventure. This will be a true test of our relationship, our perseverance and our sanity. But that doesn't scare me. What scares me is looking back on my youth one day and being disappointed that I didn't take more risks and embrace change.

I'm doing this for 50 year old Zina. She's married with 3 teenaged gay sons and 4 elderly chihuahuas. She wears a (sequined) mumu on the weekends and can't remember the last time she had a vacation. But she looks back on her 20's and smiles. Her eyes light up as she regales her boys with stories of her well-spent youth. They listen to her tales, enraptured.

"My God" they think, "our hag has lived."

On Target

The targeted ads on a website tell you a lot about the content.

I'm kind of disappointed, I'm still not seeing a theme in my ads.

Is it possible for a blog to cry for help?

My AA cardigan is in the mail.

Here's to you, Rue

Some days, the Notes from the Universe really strike a chord with me. Today was one of those days:

Insecurity, Zina, is the greatest social piranha in the pool of human existence. Yet discovering that no matter what anyone else thinks, you can still choose your own thoughts, manifest your own things, and live happily ever after is like wearing underwater, titanium body armor in your favorite color, with built-in rabbit ear slippers and a giant hoodie.
Priceless,
The Universe

We all get insecure sometimes. We care too much about what others think. We second guess ourselves. But it really is a waste of energy. Whenever I'm having a moment of insecurity, I think about old people. I'm sure they were all insecure once. But now they're older and wiser and clearly don't give a hoot what anyone thinks. They will walk around wearing only a tablecloth, tell you exactly what they think of you and take their sweet time getting off the elevator with no regard for anyone else. Granted some of it is physical limitations (and sometimes, dementia). But a lot of it is just an indifference to other peoples' opinions. Screw you, I'm 98, I'll do what I want. It's something I've always admired and something I am continually trying to cultivate. Other people's opinions, beliefs, insults, prejudices do not matter. Be comfortable with yourself and nothing can stop you.

And rest in peace, Rue. You remain an inspiration.

The hangover

I give up

I woke up this morning, with a raging inferno of a hangover. The type that makes you feel like you're still drunk. Or perhaps I was/am.

Last night was one of those ridiculous nights on a rooftop with coworkers that is awesome at the time and  cringe inducing the next day.


Now I'm a zombie. I can't function. All I can think about is getting home and into bed. It's no way to live.

Beer, I'm done with you. There's no way around it. This relationship is abusive. You show me a good time then you throw me down the stairs.

There is no "moderation" when it comes to us. We need another month apart.

Thanks for the memories, boo(ze)

Memorial Day Weekend Recap

Another weekend recap already? It must be Christmas.

Friday morning I headed off to Philly yet again. It's unclear why I ever left. Oh that's right, a dead-end job and unwillingness to settle down anywhere for longer than 2 years. On the subway on my way to the bus I had a celebrity sighting.

I was disappointed that Curious George wasn't with him but apparently he's in rehab.

I'd planned to crash at Chris' while he worked. But my friend Brian was also off from work and he convinced me to accompany him to Home Depot. Home Depot is probably my least favorite place in the world. It's just so...straight. My head starts spinning as soon as I walk in from all the testosterone in the air. I liken it to a straight gay bar. It's full of super macho types who are so focused on the man-toys that they don't even notice when women show up. I could have walked around wearing only a bright orange apron and a smile and they wouldn't have flinched. Just kidding, I obviously would never be caught dead in an apron. I actually tend to get extra dressed up when I go there to counteract all the testosterone. As if wearing a ball gown and pearls will keep me from turning into a lumberjack.

After that adventure in masculinity, we picked up a case of Miller lite and proceeded to drink on his couch. We don't hang out as much as we did when I lived in Philly but whenever we do it's a good time. We are both very convinced of each others' (and our own) awesomeness so it works out well. When we were about 7 beers deep, Brian's girlfriend Lisa and another couple showed up and we met Chris for dinner at a BYO called Sazon. I didn't have high expectations for the meal but it was actually pretty good. Especially Chris' which I ate half of. I don't know what it was but it was delicious.

The service was pretty good too. They even refrigerated the 4 cans of Miller lite I brought in my purse. Waste not, want not. And they didn't mind when Brian broke out into song during dessert. Chris and I were exhausted by the time we finished so we took Geritol and passed out.

Saturday we woke up at 9 AM and didn't know what to do with ourselves. Usually we awake around 1 pm and slowly make our way to world of the living. But considering we went to bed at midnight on a Friday, we were rearing to go.

We decided to go outlet shopping for summer clothes. His younger brothers were both in town so we brought them with us. Before Chris, I always said that the next guy I dated would be an agoraphobic war orphan. But I have changed my tune. His whole family has always been very welcoming and supportive. Most of my life I lived with just my mom, so I always love observing families with all sons. They just sit around and crack jokes on each other. It's hilarious.

Onto outlet shopping. I'm pretty cheap but outlets are my weakness. Usually I end up blowing half my paycheck at outlets on clothes that I don't need. But I've had to be more frugal lately now that I'm planning on giving up my 9-5. I didn't end up finding anything that I really liked but the boys all found stuff so it wasn't a complete waste. Plus, I ended up going to the mall and buying a dress at Urban Outfitters anyway. Later, we picked up some BBQ supplies at Trader Joe's and beer and drove to his brother Jon's place for a barbecue. Once the beer was finished, Chris and I went to a bar to get food and watch the Phillies and Flyers game. On our way into the bar we noticed this guy taking a snooze.

He appeared to be breathing so we continued on our way. On the way back to the car an hour later, we saw him again:

Apparently gravity had a field day with this guy. Since I'd recently watched back-to-back episodes of What Would You Do, I decided we had to do something. He could just be a drunk idiot but what if he was in a diabetic coma? Then what would I say when John Quinones shoved a microphone in my face? I couldn't let him down.

So I flagged down a cop car and they gently helped him up. Just kidding, they kicked and yelled at him until he finally woke up then shoved him in the back of the squad car. I'm sure he'd still be eternally grateful to me. I was going to offer the cops my contact information in case they needed me to testify or be interviewed by the newspaper but Chris dragged me away. My dream in life has always been to testify against someone in court. When I was a kid (ie. 15), sometimes I would stay in the car while my mom shopped in case the store got robbed and I could be a witness. I never said I was a normal child.

The next day we had a delicious outdoor brunch. Food is so much better when consumed outside. I ate a Men's Health approved breakfast. My entire "healthy" routine is based around these slideshows.

Brian had an annual Memorial Day BBQ at his parents house so I headed to that after brunch. Chris had to work overnight in Northern NJ so I was on my own. Lots of beer and baked goods were consumed and lots of dancing by the pool followed. It was a great time. I didn't partake in the water activities because I was intentionally sans bathing suit. No one wanted to see me in a bathing suit after 3 days of drinking. Or, ever really. Men don't have these concerns.

We drank for about 12 hours straight. I wanted to keep going but no one else was having it. We're all getting old. The next day I awoke on the floor with a hangover that continued to get worse the longer I was awake. It was a struggle to form words, let alone hold conversations with the stragglers from the night before. I spent the rest of the day lounging by the pool with Brian's family, alternating between laughing at their stories and praying for a respite from the pain. I wanted to go for a swim and I even put on my fat kid bathing suit at one point.

But after nearly capsizing a pool float, I realized I just didn't have the energy. Finally my chariot arrived to whisk me back home. It was difficult to leave the peacefulness of the suburbs and head back to the city. I could've stayed by that pool forever. It was a pretty perfect weekend overall.

Remember that blog I wrote about drinking in moderation? Well obviously I couldn't start doing that until after the Memorial day weekend. Plus a friend is in town tonight, and I have a work happy hour tomorrow. Just get off my back okay?!?

To Do

This weekend I realized just how close this huge life-altering journey is and how much we still need to get done. Thus, I'm making a to-do list. In no particular order...

• Quit job
• Plan drive across country, including stop at Mom's house.
• Get road trip supplies - tents, sleeping bags etc.
• Throw huge, amazing going away party for self
• Give away stuff to Salvation Army
• Fly to LA to look at potential apartments
• Secure sublet in Los Angeles
• Turn 27
• Save 2000 more dollars
• Pack bar minimum of belongings for drive to California
• Pack up everything else and store at Chris' parents' house to be shipped later
• Find a doctor
• Get a physical
• Lose 8 lbs
• Buy bathing suit that won't frighten children
• Drink much less
• Cancel gym membership
• Look for freelance jobs
• Network with LA contacts
• Get a bike

Yikes. Better get started....tomorrow.

The long, hard, glorious fall

At the insistence of my close friend and (only) reader, Brian, I am writing another blog post. It's easy to let a blog slowly die out. You start out with great intentions but eventually the fervor wanes and blog posting takes a back seat to Marriage Ref reruns. But Brian has suffered the heartbreak from the discontinuation of my past blogs. I just can't hurt him again. So here we go.

This is what the last 2 weeks have looked like:

Yes, my month long reign as Queen of Sobriety came to a crashing end. Not only did I fall off the wagon, it ran me over then dragged me off a cliff onto the jagged rocks below. And what a glorious fall it was.

The fact of the matter is, beer is a wonderful thing. Sure it can promote terrible decision-making, ruin lives, destroy families, and make you wake up feeling like this guy:

But it also turns strangers into friends. Bartenders into therapists. Indifference into blind lust. And problems into fuzzy memories.

And, unfortunately, weight loss into weight gain. The last two weeks have been great, but as a result, my weight loss plan has derailed. My body had to do something with all those extra calories. And I'm waking up with hangovers again. As boring as that month off booze was, I felt great physically and mentally.

So what's a girl to do? I have to crawl back onto the wagon. This weight loss is important to me. I won't cut out alcohol entirely but it has to be limited, at least until we get to LA. I proved to myself that I can cut beer out entirely for a month, so what's 2 months of moderation?

As they say, Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.


Well, except a six pack of ice-cold Summer Ales.


Bear with me, it's going to be a long 2 months.

Life updates

The roof is on fire

Literally.

I was sitting in my soulless cubicle today working hard on Facebook when we received a cryptic announcement from the "Fire Safety Director" (how do I get his job?). Apparently the "smoky odor" in the building was being caused by a fire in the East Village.

But that's where I live! How interesting. So I called around (googled) and lo and behold the fire was less than a block from my apartment.

Apparently, the pizza place across the street somehow caught fire and it spread to the corner deli, causing extensive damage.

My beloved deli! Where, no matter how bad I look/feel, the owner never fails to boost my spirits with a wink and a smile. And where I've ended up countless nights post-debauchery, swaying in the snack aisle, trying to decide between Mint Milanos and Raspberry Tarts. I love you Stuyvesant Deli. Come back soon.

Photos from EVgrieve.com

5/8 Weekend Recap

Things that happened this weekend in the country (without the influence of alcohol):

• I left my phone charger at home and thus had no technology access. I spent a lot of time reading O magazine and watching the discovery channel while jumping on his mom's miniature trampoline. If anyone tells you you need to drink to be cool, don't believe them.
  

• Brutus came along and Chris' brother's puppy Ellie freaked out at the prospect of having another dog to play with. She followed Brutus around the house incessantly play-bowing and sniffing at his genitals. Brutus does not play, he lounges. So each approach of the puppy was met with a Gollum-esque growl followed by an effeminate leap at Ellie's neck.
  

• He would then look at me with pleading eyes that asked "why would you bring me here?" I'm sure she'll grow on him. She just has to learn to respect her elders.

• I rode a bike that was too big for me and was winded within 60 seconds. Perhaps I should add some semblance of exercise to this new "healthy lifestyle"

• I slept a lot.

• Chris made chicken saag from scratch and it was delicious. For mother's day he made mussels and crab legs. I've never met a shellfish that I trusted. So I eagerly finished the bread and potatoes and then shuffled the mussel shells around with my fork, trying to avoid getting glimpses of the insides. Have you ever seen a mussel? It resembles a--well I won't say what I think it resembles as many of you probably love them. But I don't care how much butter you drench one of them in, you're still eating this:

• I respect my stomach far too much to ingest such a grotesque creature. And then there is also that pesky possibility of getting POISONED. At the table, Chris announced that he wanted to see me try one. I shot him a look of pure venom and that was the end of that. The crab legs were also hard to navigate but that's just because I don't like DIY food. When I sit down to eat, I want to eat. I don't want to crack, scour, plunge, poke or prod, to get my food. Despite their suave demeanor and flawless style, I am not a caveman.

• Chris' father made me 3 homemade milkshakes over the course of two days and I happily lapped them all up.

• After consuming each milk shake I would lift my shirt to reveal my stomach and ask Chris if I'd gotten fat again. Charming, really. It's so easy to eat in moderation during the week but as soon as the weekend rolls around my inner (for now) fat kid rears her ugly fat head and starts begging to be fed. Have you ever tried to say no to a fat kid? That's how you lose limbs*.

• We randomly ran into one of Chris' friends from Philly who happened to be house hunting in the area. I had only met him once, at Chris' private room karaoke birthday party, during which I got extremely drunk, pranced around barefoot, hogging the microphone and screaming the wrong lyrics to Usher songs. I recognized the gleam in his eye that said "you were WASTED last time I saw you." It was a little awkward. Nice to see you again too, buddy.

• And lastly, the pickup truck we were driving in broke down 30 minutes from our destination. In order to get to the safety of the rest stop we were forced to drive 2 miles without headlights going 70mph in a GIANT FREAKIN' TRUCK.

• Thankfully, we survived and a friend came to pick us up so we didn't have to sleep in the truck. It may not be clear but I'm not big on roughing it. Well, that's about it. Another action-packed weekend for the books! What excitement will next weekend hold? Eating? Sleeping? Sobriety? TBD my friend!

*disclaimer: overweight children do not actually consume humans, typically