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