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

Radio silence

It's been a week since I posted last and I know you've been wandering around lost and helpless without this blog as your beacon. I do apologize but honestly, I just haven't had anything new to say. But since I know you're desperate for a new blog post, I will concede. Plus, if I go too long without writing, this will become one of the 10 other blogs I've started then unceremoniously abandoned. You might say I have some commitment issues. Thus, I'm determined to make this one stick.

So here we go...

Life updates:

I'm still not drinking beer. It's been almost a month and no one is more surprised than me that I've made it this far. Well maybe this lil guy is.

I'm still using the lose-it app to track my calories. However my cell phone died this weekend and without my moral compass I had a junk food relapse. I don't care if you're Richard Simmons, you don't turn down a homemade milk shake. Okay 3.

Once I get back to New York City I think I'll be back on track.

Oh also, Jill is back. She returned to our lives casually as if no time had passed by sending a mass email linking to one of Tyra Banks' countless moments of lunacy.

She followed this up with a text message inquiring about our trip timeline. Yes, OUR trip timeline. So apparently she's still going. I'm glad to know she wasn't made into pâté by her cats. However, she is now on probation. Any further disappearances would make her subject to dismissal from any and all life plans. This would make the trip substantially less interesting so I will be stalking the bejesus out of her. I do these things for you, beloved reader.

Well that's about it for me. I'll be sure to keep you posted on the nugatory* details of our quest out west.

*I would be nothing without thesaurus.com

Bar None

By the time I left work yesterday I'd chalked it up to be a bad day. One of those days that just goes all wrong. I woke up exhausted. It rained so the trains were slow. The trains were slow so I was late to work. I was late to work so I was irritable. I was irritable so everything anyone did just further irritated me. All I wanted to do was go home and be enveloped by silence. Of course, when I arrived home I realized I'd forgotten my house key and my roommates wouldn't be home for 3 more hours.

Arghhh

I wanted to drink beer. Lots and lots of beer. Instead I wandered off in search of sustenance and landed at a cheap Mexican restaurant inhaling a tostada. Sitting alone in silence at the counter can only last so long however before it becomes awkward for the eater and the hipster waiter. So I began to contemplate my next move.

For the last two weeks I've wondered what exactly to do without drinking. Museums? Boring. Galleries? No thank you. Plays? Musicals? I'd rather watch beer dry. I enjoy drinking because it's a social activity. Alcohol is a unifying agent for people of every age, race, sexual preference, fetish etc. Where else would I have met a dwarf former child star?

So off I went in search of a bar-like refuge for the sober. It was then I discovered the wonders of the coffee shop. You can just sit there. For hours. No awkwardness, no judgment, they just keep stopping by every now and then to ask if you'd like a refill of your green tea. Granted, it's not all that social. People mostly keep to themselves and their shiny Macbook Pros. Computerless, I read a Men's Health magazine from cover to cover. I'm now well-versed in how to get "monster forearms" by lifting an empty keg. It's knowledge I'll carry with me forever.

My overall assessment is that coffee shops are a decent bar substitute. I'll most likely go back soon. Except I always felt comfortable going to my local bar a few times a week. There are only so many times you can hang out at a coffee shop in one week before you just start seeming pretentious.

The quest continues...

Just one of them days

"It's just one of them days
That a girl goes through
When i'm angry inside
Don't wanna take it out on you" Monica


Today is the kind of day that I want to curl up in bed with a down comforter, a cup of green tea, and no human interaction. Instead I am at work, surrounded by people that I am forced to interact with about things that I could not possibly care less about.

It could be hormones, Monday blues or sobriety but I am growing more perturbed by the second. Thus, to calm my nerves I've begun my escape countdown. Deep breaths. We can do this.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Fear.

It's why we don't pet a growling dog, or swim in shark infested waters.

It's why we activate our burglar alarms at night.

A little bit of fear keeps us safer.

But it's also why George W Bush was in office for 8 terrible years.

And why the news media is still in business.

Today the headline on the free newspaper they hand out at the subway was "Is there a terrorist among us?"

Talk about fear. Or should I say, fear mongering.

By now, most of you heard about the car-bomb that was found in Times Square this weekend. Thanks to a quick thinking street vendor who alerted a police officer of the smoking SUV, lives were saved.

It could have really, really bad.

But while the thought of an attack on the city is scary, it's also not surprising. NYC is a target. It always has been and always will be. Mayor Bloomberg said it well: "Terrorists around the world, who feel threatened by the freedoms that we have, always focus on those symbols of freedoms – and that is New York city,"

But I want to get back to that cover and that headline. The picture of your average New Yorkers going about their day combined with that headline:

"Is there a terrorist amongst us?"

Yes, there is. Likely more than one. Remember the failed subway bombing plot?

But why frighten people more than they already are? Is that really the first thing our bleary eyes need to read as we begin our morning commutes?

I'm planning to leave New York City in three months. Not because I'm afraid of the big bad wolf. Not because the news media has scared me away. Because I'm ready for something new. But I will always love this city and it saddens me that there are people out there who would try to harm it and the people in it. We didn't start the war. We didn't steal the oil. We're just human beings trying to make it through the day. Just like everyone else on the planet.

We can't let the fear win. And we can't let the media exploit the fear.

We must continue riding the subway. We must continue to visit Times Square. (Not me, I hate Midtown)

We must feel the fear and we must do it anyway.

That's how we send the message that we won't be bullied or scared into silence

That's how we win.

5/1 Weekend Recap

Well kids, It's that time again! Time for another weekend update. Try to contain yourself.

On Friday I mentioned that I'd be going out for A drink with some coworkers. The weather was amazing and I just couldn't see myself doing anything other than sitting on a patio with an ice-cold margarita.

Clearly I need some hobbies. We'll get to that in another posting.

Well it turned out the bar my coworkers picked out didn't have any outdoor tables. Undeterred, I soldiered on deep into the belly of the dimly lit bar. It wasn't quite the setting I'd pictured for my first delicious margarita but at that point there was just no stopping me. And there she is:

Unassuming and quiet, but full of potential. The first sip was like a lightning bolt to my dulled brain. I was alive again. As I slowly sipped my way to the bottom of the glass, my face began to tingle, thoughts ping-ponged around my brain then left my mouth unfiltered.

I was already tipsy. After years of drinking, I suddenly had the tolerance of Japanese pre-teen. And then came the second drink. I mean everyone else was still drinking, what would you have me do? Then, the other girls left and it was just Marissa and I with empty glasses sitting before us. That was the moment. I could have gone home, snuggled up under the covers and woke up happy and clear-headed.

But the sweet toxins were already coursing through my brain. The sun was still shining. People were everywhere, laughing, drinking, soaking up the amazing weather. I couldn't go home.
So we walked to another bar. There I was introduced to two vodka sodas who, despite being bland, I felt I simply had to get to know better.


And then, off to Queens to Marissa's local bar. There I downed a couple of vodka & sprites. But it started to feel wrong. The sugar that had originally made me feel giddy and alive, started to turn on me.

I became sluggish and my stomach started to ache. My body simply wasn't going to put up with new drinking habits. Yes, I was still abstaining from beer. But for 2 blissful weeks, my body had been healthy and ethanol free. So it revolted. I left the bar feeling groggy, slightly remorseful and ready for bed. But first, I spent some time with two old friends:

And an ex-flame:

The patterns I'd tried to put an end to were repeating themselves again. And while, yes, I kept my promise to myself to give up beer, it still wasn't enough. But wait, that conclusion came later.
The next day, slightly hungover, I left Queens and met Chris back in the city. It was another beautiful day so we decided to walk around. We stumbled upon a street fair with delicious food.

Then we decided to rest our throbbing feet at a bar with an outdoor patio. In the time it took me to finish a small glass of white wine, Chris finished three jack & cokes. What can I say? I'm a slow drinker except when it comes to beer. After that we wandered around some more, and ended up at Urban Outfitters where I bought a dress that would not have fit me two weeks ago. Score! The rest of the night was uneventful and I won't bore you with the banal details. (Because the other details have been a real thrill ride)

The next day we woke up around noon and grabbed some brunch at Westville. We ordered a turkey burger to split and 4 veggie sides. Our eating habits have really improved since we began caring about what we put into our mouths.

After brunch I went to the gym...to clean out my locker as my 6 month locker ownership had expired (two months ago). It felt great to finally check that off my to-do list. It's the little things. Oh, I forgot to mention that Chris had a beer at brunch. He lost the bet.

After that, there was no going back for him. So after the gym, we went to another bar. I mean, no one could possibly resist this:

I had a couple margaritas and he had some more beers. The margaritas were so sweet that I decided to switch to water to avoid a repeat of the night before. But then of course, the bar owners sent over some free drinks. Well, I couldn't just let them go to waste. How rude.

We finally left after polishing those off and went home and relaxed until it was time for Chris to leave for the Bolt bus. It's so much easier (for me) when he's the one leaving. It sucks to be the one leaving, and to know you have a 2.5 hour journey ahead of you.

So what have I learned from my temporary foray back into the world of drinking? Well, it was just that: temporary. The next two weeks, I'm back on the wagon. The positive physical and mental effects I've experienced from not drinking outweigh the momentary fun that it brings. So I'm back to Wet Blanket status for the next two weeks. Maybe I'll get back into the hobbies I had before I ever started drinking. Like reading and volunteering and being the least exciting person alive.

**How cute is this child? It's a shame they grow up and become self-concerned adults who write self-concerned blogs.