Tuesday, April 22, 2014

blog amnesia

okay. so i have a little problem and i'm just going to come right out with it.

i've one hundred percent forgotten how to blog.

i think i'm still adept at stringing sentences together. gawd. let's hope so - revisions, revisions, revisions - but when it comes to entering words on this little white, blank blogger screen?

i've got nada.

i truly can't believe i used to do this regularly three times a week. it's like looking at a younger self who used to pull all nighters. except all nighters i can still do. (or like, 4 a.m.-ers with three hours of sleep-ers. that counts, oui?)

the first novel i ever wrote was about a girl suffering from insomnia and i haven't had a good nights sleep ever since. the novel i'm currently working on is about, very generally speaking, over-sharing. sure enough, now when i click on Facebook, i feel like i've undergone social media aversion therapy. every media forum makes me a little bit want to gag.

so be warned, at least for the time being, unless it's the manuscript i'm bending into shape, i can't stand the sight of words on screen. and not only this one. all screens. i had to send a few texts last tonight and the i-don't-wanna lifting of my phone felt so cumbersome, you'd think it was the dining room table i needed to send a message on. responding to and reading emails feels like benching my entire apartment.

and then i read A.S. King's latest blog post. it goes like this: "I am in the revision cave. I'm not coming out to blog unless something is on fire."

so that's what it is! i'm in the revisions cave. specifically, the nuanced part where i need to sprinkle in sentences here and there that make you, oh my reader, connect more deeply with my characters. no pressure. and who knows, maybe i've also written myself into a fear and dislike of social media, but we'll deal with that when i exit the cave. 'cause i do believe good things are brewing, and knock on wood - the dining room table perhaps, so long as i have it hoisted - soon enough i'll be re-engaging in all this online sharing like never before.

in the meantime, until i have some exciting misadventures to share and/or until i remember how to write about them, a word from Ellen Goodlett, a friend who hasn't forgotten how to blog. and you can always follow me on Instagram: @corriegram. because as luck would have it, i haven't forgotten how to shoot terrible photos.

like this one:

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

the games we play

recently, i was stuck in two tediously boring situations. we've all had these. mine, specifically, were two hours in the middle seat of a hot, crowded car, with a dog on my lap, standing still in tunnel traffic... with a ten year old. the second, was the (un)pleasure of exhibiting magnificent jewels at Sothebys as slush poured from the sky i.e. standing behind a counter for eight hours doing absolutely nothing.

well, almost nothing. in both situations i could have been productive and in Situation A: napped, and Situation B: flushed out ideas for my new novel. instead, i came up with a wide array of ridiculous games to play with my fellow stuck/bored cohorts.

seeing as the whole east coast is about to be dumped on, i thought now might be the time to share the Top 5 Fun Fun Corrie-Made-Up Games. they work in cars, bars (especially in bars), super market lines, and anywhere that you can't bear to be for one more second, yet probably have upwards of thousands more seconds remaining.

let me know how they go. if you have Fun Fun Made-Up Games you like to play, my comments are all ears.

ew. but not in a gross way. idk, that just sounded gross to me.


Game 1. Scenario Face Gestures

you can stop reading right here.

Scenario Face Gestures is my new obsession. the best no-props-necessary game of all time. i've been forcing it on everyone since its inception. with few exceptions - pfft to Ry at my boo's restaurant - it gets huge laughs. "Surprised, but not in a good way. Go!" "Guy walks on the subway and starts his 'Ladies and Gentleman' pitch. Go!" "The couple at the next table at dinner are fighting and the woman just made reference to weiner size. Go!"

seriously. please try this with your loved ones or friends a.s.a.p. it does not disappoint. and it will easily make thirty minutes go buy on a slushy Sothebys afternoon.

Game 2. Three Clue I'm Thinking of Something

i've never had patience for 20 questions. Three Clue I'm Thinking of Something cuts right to the chase.

i'm thinking of a man.
is it my dad?
no. he's tall.
is it my brother?
no. he has a beard.
is it abraham lincoln. 

there. done. next round.

it's the perfect game for our lack of attention span culture. it's even better if you keep score. and Three Clue I'm Thinking of Something is best when there's a dog in the car. what better way to make someone mis-guess their first clue, than by starting with fluffiness?

i'm thinking of something fluffy.
is it Maple?
bzzzz. no.

next round.

i'm thinking of something fluffy.
...(pause) is it Maple?
bzzz. no. 
(sigh of frustration. laughter on my side.)

Three Clue I'm Thinking of Something is not as riotously fun as Scenario Face Gestures, but mindless enough and interesting enough to get you fifty feet further in traffic.

for the record, i do not have a pic of Maple, but i do have a pic of my friend Kev's new puppy, Chevy. and it deserves being shared with the world.

you're welcome.

Game 3. Family Feud

fine this one's an app. but it's free and awesome and i highly suggest you download it. it made the prospect of three more hours at Sothebys bearable knowing we'd play our last Family Feud game in the second hour. (the free version limits how many games you can play per day).

 tho be warned. survey sez for What's in your Picnic Basket? totally whack.

Game 4. Animal Lookalikes

this works best if you're in a semi-crowded work environment, class, or at a big family party. a place where you know the people at least a little, so when you hit on a perfect match, it's pretty hysterical. we could play right now.

rules: choose a random animal.

say, sloth.

now, find the person in the room who looks most like that animal. you have to come to agreement with your fellow players, so let me know what you think.

my beau and i didn't have much luck with this when we went out the other night. maybe it's because there simply weren't any "deer," "bears," or "foxes" at the bar we were at. but i know this game can be killer.

Game 5. The Five Minute Quiet Game

because after all the other ones, Shhhh is the best intro to a game you'll ever hear.

Monday, January 27, 2014

with a few minutes a day

so the other afternoon my boo and i were lazing around when we began watching videos of people "Shuffling."

watching quickly turned to doing.

now, know me, know i am a dance fiend. so dancing (TERRIBLY) around our apartment was right up my alley. in one how-to video the person leading it said he'd learned to Shuffle in about a month. not with massive practice sessions, but with a few minutes here and there throughout the day. and boyfriend was good.

progression of thoughts annnnnd....

what if you learned something new every month?

nothing huge. but say, a slight of hand trick or learning how to make mean bitters or just reading everything you could on a person or time period? in August for research, i read three biographies on the Kennedys. (i highly recommend The Kennedy Women). recently, whilst watching The Butler it felt great to adjust my smart-pants glasses and say, "Oh yes. John did have debilitating back problems." 

will any of these newly learned skills aid you as you go about your way in the world? probably not. will they help you give back to the world? almost definitely not.

but by the end of the year will you be twelve times awesomer? well, you're pretty awesome already, but yes! why not?

we all have ten to fifteen minutes in our day to practice something. even if it's while waiting for the train or for the coffee to brew or as the shower heats up.

will i lose steam on this in three months time. probably. but by then, i'll know how to Shuffle (February). how to shake cocktails with two hands along with other mean bartender tricks (March). and i'll have written two effective business plans (April). and in a years time, as i'm also hopefully able to comprehend a little Mandarin (overall 2014 goal), i might also be decent in my DanceHall class or have watched all the films by Hayao Miyazaki or perfected my pickling recipe.

i'm just could be fun. and in the meantime, you'll have moments where you find yourself giggling with your partner as you do in-sync, Jumpstyle dance routines.

so what do you say? anyone else feel like February Shuffling?

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

ten things to do when you finish writing a manuscript


2. SLEEP LATE. for one day. (okay. maybe two.)


      4a. as you're waiting to hear back CLICK ON EVERY SINGLE NPR LINK IN YOUR FACEBOOK FEED and become more worldly by, say, learning how to beat box. go ahead, try not to walk around your  house saying 'bouncing cats.'


word of caution, do not try this is your narrow hallway. you will accidentally hit your head against the wall. also four times out of four your chin will get stuck on the shirt, making this not at all as easy as it looks.

      4.a.2. then HOW TO BE EVEN MORE EFFICIENT by not only taking off your shirts faster, but folding them quicker as well. (do we ill-use that many hours of time in the whole shirt part of our day that someone needed to ill-use further hours fine tuning those processes?)

   4. b . READ A BOOK. or in my case, seven.

i can never tell if it's karmic kindness or a big fat raspberry from the universe when all the library books i've been waiting months to receive arrive ALL AT THE SAME TIME, but well. here you are Corrie. i'm mean, what the problem? you've got three weeks before they're due. 

5. CROSS YOUR FINGERS that your critique-rs like your manuscript because you really think you have something this time. again. no seriously.

    5. a. CHECK YOUR EMAIL EVERY FIVE SECONDS. they might have read it already. it's possible. (no it isn't).

6. BLOG because it's been a while. tah-dah!

7. KEEP WORKING ON ANOTHER PROJECT just in case #5 doesn't go so well.


 8. a. LOTS

(and wish for the thousandth time wish you could be the dancing girl in a Latin music video)

9. BROWSE COOL WEBSITES and wonder why you didn't discover them before the holidays because then everyone on your list could have owned this:

 or this...

 or most useful...

10. TAKE A DEEP BREATH and repeat step number 1.

Monday, December 23, 2013

happiness with a side of wings

it's useless. there will be no work done today.

gimme a productive two to three weeks and i should have another manuscript finished. woot! yet every time i look at the Word doc, the thoughts in my brain go like this... hmm, i should swap that paragraph for this one and... blargh!! what's on Instagram?! is it time for lunch?! who's outside? is that FedEx truck for me? i'll text my mom. i'll text my sister. i'll text my friend. maybe i'll bake a cake. is it time to stop the ruse and lose the entire rest of my day to watching Parks&Rec, no? ahhh it's almost Christmas!
i've begun this blog ten different times trying to land on the theme...

so i've run into a funny blogger conundrum. what do you blog about when you're happy? 

so i dyed my hair yellow. no that's right, not blonde, yellow.  

so, remember how i moved?

so what normal adult starts all her sentences with so anyway?

what do you think, ODB mural? this calls for a photo blog, no?

ODB mural says hells yes!

so Bed Stuy. i moved here.

do i understand why the Christmas lights over the streets say Welcome to Bed Stuy Bid? no, i do not. what is a Bid? a new word for neighborhood? block? does it mean actual bid and is simply missing a comma, like, Welcome to Bed Stuy, bid. It's all for sale! or is it simply not so sly marketing by the Business Improvement District peoples?

uh, yeah. that's the one.

but oh Bed Stuy I love you. truly.

i love your giant murals and bodega Ben & Jerry's that only costs $4.50 and not $5 to $7 like in park slope. i love hearing Muslim prayers through my open windows. i love that most of the Chinese food places aren't on seamless and don't deliver (okay, i hate that). but i do love that ALL of the Chinese food places serve fried chicken. so that alongside my takeout dumplings there now will permanently be fried wings and french fries. that's right. ranch dressing is on the table during Chinese takeout dinner hour.

do i love the ten pounds i will gain living here? no!

will that stop me from feasting? also most likely no because most of all, other than all of the sunlight streaming in through my windows (who knew sunlight does (greatly) improve one's mood) i love the realization that i've lived my whole life and never eaten Trinidadian food. an error i shall now correct at least once a week.

this is a Double.

err yeah, this picture does and does not do it justice.

definition: a "Double" is made from some kind of fried Indian-esque bread with some kind of chickpea filling. (fine. it's made with Bara filled with Chana. anyone can Wiki, but what fun is that?)

the most recent one I had (above) was smothered in a sweet and hot HOT hot hot sauce that nearly melted my face off. yet i could not stop eating it.

Doubles cost $1.50 a piece. they will hold you over for a solid eight hours.

now, meet a Fry Bake.

Definition: a Fry Bake is made of doughy fried bread that's filled with some kind of fish or other filling. i've had it with cabbage, mayo, and salt cod that kind of makes it taste like a Mickey D's fish filet. this one had tiny specks of habanero in it. so it only gave one the subtle sweats. huh. is this spicy? why are my eyebrows sweating? all for only $3.

and you know what else, i love about Bed Stuy?


my new favorite ornament. it's a horse!
maybe it's just the fact of my boo (yes, that's it) but for the first time in ever Christmas is fun! yes, as a non-religious person, i still don't see the point of it. but i'll admit, when you have lots of good gift ideas, and apparently this year even when you don't, it's awesome buying presents for people. is that the whole point of this secular version of Christmas? a month spent plotting how to best shower love and thoughtfulness on your favorite people?  if so, i get it now. and even more than that, i'm okay with it. no. i'm great with it.

[and to all the people who spend part of their holidays volunteering and showering thoughtfulness on others less fortunate than themselves, thank you. and apologies for being self-absorbed this year, and most other years, too.]
so Happy New Year! i hope 2014 brings us all so much happiness that we haven't a single worthwhile thing to blog about. and for those that it applies to, Merry Christmas! go forth and shower your loved ones with gifts they might have to return because the sizing is all wrong. 

or better yet, just shower them with love. nobody gets offended when you return love.

and that being said, to all, i Bed Stuy Bid you, good night.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

sold! on magnificent jewels

trivia time.

if a diamond is the hardest gem, and an emerald is the softest, what's the difference between a sapphire and a ruby? (other than color you jokesters).

answer: it's a trick question. there isn't any difference!

how do i know this? because today an old man wouldn't stop repeating this story to me and my co-workers. more helpful answer? these past four days, i worked at a major NYC auction house's Magnificent Jewels Auction.

i shall now share that experience with you.  

Day 1. 

the morning pep speech from security goes like this: all the security personal here is either a retired or acting NYPD police officer. so you're in good hands. however, God forbid anything should happen, do what "they" say and give "them" (these quotes are "mine") whatever they want because our goal is to get them out of the building as quickly as possible.

it's then i realize i am surrounded by hundreds of millions of dollars worth of jewels. i secretly hope i see at least one uzi during my four day shift. or better yet someone repelling from a helicopter with an uzi.

instead, the first potential bidder is a father who brings his two little girls, heads straight for the diamond cases and has his little ragamuffins try on the likes of this:

correct. that is a $120,000 diamond necklace. the daughters couldn't be more than five and seven. i don't have any diamond necklaces in the cases i'm working behind therefore i do not need to clasp them around the children's tiny necks. i am grateful for this small karmic kindness.

one of the jewelry runners (aka a person who collects particular pieces from all the cases in the showroom and takes them into a back room so a buyer can view them in private) when seeing me behind the counter huffs loudly, "great. a new person." and then rolls her eyes and tsks impatiently when i have trouble unlocking the case.

i worry she is going to be my nemesis. i worry she will make the next four days suck. i seriously worry that i have a bum key.

by later that afternoon, she's schemed to get jewelry before her colleagues who have waited longer for it whilst wearing a wicked grin. she's flirted unabashedly with ALL the men whilst being an utter koochy to all the women. and she's been pretty nice to me, because contrary to first appearances, i can turn a key in a lock. i realize this teeny senior firecracker reminds me of Dr. Evil and is awesome.

during the slower moments, my co-worker and i plot how best to (theoretically) rob the exhibition. we decide that all we need is an inside person at the catalogue printers. a floppy hat. and a halfway decent gem forger. simple, no? on Day 4, i realize we can also make a copy of the case's key when we go to the bathroom because apparently we aren't required to surrender our keys and announce to security: Going to the ladies room! every time we go to the ladies room.


nearing the end of the day, in reference to a piece that's quoted at $8,000 a man says to me, why that's dirt cheap. can you believe how cheap that is? i try not to calculate how long i could write on 8K without having to get a crappy day job.

(eight months).

Day 1 Jewel of Interest:

yes, Amethyst, you are my birthstone. i'm sorry nobody tried you on all day. perhaps you're gauche. on the positive side, you're such a steal. four pieces for  25K to 35K? oops. did that add insult to injury. i hate when i go and offend semi-precious stones like that. 

Day 2.

having sliced off a wedge of my thumb making fancy cocktails the night before (see, Baby, this is why dull knives are good) i shamefully wear a brown generic band-aid to work.

this ickiness is immediately overshadowed when a new girl (a new person, tsk) right off the bat drops a Faberge locket crafted for Tsarevich Alexei Nikolaevich onto the floor. the late 1800's locket is purported to have a lock of the little Czar's hair inside, meaning if you buy it you own a Czar's DNA. i wince with horror and thinly veiled disdain when i witness this careless newbie mistake.

ten minutes later i reach into a case for a pair of earrings and feel something brush my legs. please tell me that elaborate necklace on the wobbly stand didn't just plummet to the floor.

it did.

later, this also pops out of my hand:

yes, you're correct. it is a cigarette case from the 1920's made from a single hollowed out piece of  Lapis Lazuli valued at 7K to 9K. take heart, when it falls on the ground, it sounds exactly like a standard diamond encrusted Lapis Lazuli cigarette case does whilst bouncing on carpet.

an hour or so later, i'm lightly delighted when one of the specialists drops a giant emerald earring onto the display case. still later, another attendant nearly sends a ruby thingamabob skittering across the showroom floor - though her heroic dive prevents this.

Jewel Lesson Learned: don't be judgy. no matter your role, you too might one day drop a holy-shite that's expensive please don't break or crack or chip piece of jewelry.

and no, i'm not going to even try and properly grammatize that last sentence so it's more readable.

Day 2 Jewel of Interest: 

while the diamond is overheard to be "merely whatever," this nearly 5 carat ruby is apparently incomparable. one buyer talks about how it'll probably go for $200,000 ... per carat. i decide to take a picture with it before the end of the show:

i further decide it either requires special talent to take a pic this terrible or an especially terrible phone. or maybe it's simply impossible to focus on the ruby when it's bedazzling an aged witch's hand.

i further further decide never to photograph my hands again. or wear them out in public.

Day 3. 

i start wishing i knew there was such a title as Jewelry Specialist when I was a kid. the Specialists have the coolest job ever. granted, it seems like they're on call 24/7 and have to dine with their clients all the time, but they're all down to earth, they know their sh*t about gems, they dress to kill, and none of them look shiny or blotchy in the room's overhead lighting like i do. avoiding mirrors, i eavesdrop on the Specialists whenever possible.

did you know, it only takes about 6 months to get your gemologist certificate?

i mean, i do like to eat out. especially if it's free. hmmm.

later in the day, i am pulled by security and asked to stand watch in the back room as a board member sits with his wife as she tries on a pair of diamond earrings.

husband, wife, and Corrie all conclude that the earrings look stunning. but the wife is worried that she shouldn't get them because SHE ALREADY HAS ONES THAT ARE TOO SIMILAR. granted, they do mention selling a few of their other pieces in order to purchase these. but when was the last time you didn't purchase something for $20,000+ because you already a $20,000+ item that would make it redundant?
to be fair, this is the most common reason i hear for a piece not being up to snuff.

on another note, whilst i am keylessly on bathroom break ('cause it's not Day 4 yet), i discover a disconcerting, how the hell did i miss it, chin hair. i frantically try to pluck it, but my fingers and prayers fail me. veiny hands, chin hair, vindictive glee when i see priceless jewelry dropped. i might as well join the coven now.

i'm pretty sure Specialists don't have these problems.

Day 3 Jewel of Interest:

this gem is called Alexandrite:

 it changes color depending what light it's in. cool!

Day 4.

after two days in a row in the same section, i now consider myself a Specialist of cases 15, 16, and 17 and Towers 16 and 17.

just don't ask me anything.

throughout the day, i meet nice people. a woman from Connecticut and i have lots of fun when she let's me show her a bunch of earrings i think are cool and she gamely tries them on. she's stunned by the magnificent Van Cleefs that everyone is stunned by (see, told you, Specialist yo') but she says:

"i'm just some Connecticut housewife. i mean, i've got some money to spend, but don't you think some, like, Indian princess is going to win these earrings? it won't be someone like me"

i tell her, your $60,000 is just as good as any princesses $60,000.

no. i don't tell her that. but i do think that lovely is lovely.
outside of protocol, i watch a gentleman be seated at his own table in the showroom and then watch as the highest member of the auction staff and a specialist both slightly frantically bring him all of the most expensive jewels. they even turn off the overhead music to let him concentrate. i imagine this is one of the richest men i will ever see. it's kind of awesome.

nearing the end of the day, thanks to the scoop neckline on my (clothing swapped, woot!) dress i'm asked to model this:

and even better, this:

i gotta admit, it feels ... well, weird because everyone is looking at me.

Day 4 Jewel of Interest: 

this 12 carat unfired, Burmese sapphire ring is requested by A TON of dealers. apparently it's $150,000 to $200,000 pricetag is very low. one dealer tells me it will likely go for ten times this amount. later in the day, i watch a man fall in love with it.

"it's manly," he says, "no?"

"uh yes," i reply. "that is a very, uh, manly cut."

i wonder if he'll spend a million dollars to buy it.

by the end of Day 4, i am incredibly grateful and in love with this amazing experience. i decide not to begrudge the collectors, bazillionaires, and housewives their jewels. happiness is happiness and love is love and it's a pleasure to see people's faces light up when they try on a piece that is clearly meant for them. ten times out of ten, their look of joy far outshines the glitter of the jewels.

i simply wish life experiences like these were for everyone, not only a very lucky few.

consolation thought? a lot of beautiful sights in life are absolutely free.

also, the exhibition is open to the public and everyone is allowed to try on whatever they want. also, everyone in the Jewels department is really nice. also, also, and also there's another show in February. 

why not swing by?

i mean, the coffee and view alone are priceless.

(if you're curious. you may bid or follow along with the auction on 12/11/13 starting at 10 a.m.)

Monday, November 11, 2013

literally onward and upward

in t-minus four days i will live in an entirely new part of Brooklyn. woot!

thus my current status is: moving.

aside from feeling sentimental about leaving my adorable apartment and my heart of gold landlord who took such good care of me all these years, the actual process of moving is rather awesome. life looks so totally different when you are neither here nor there.

this past week, i've done so many things i'd never normally do.

did you know that when you're moving you can walk around your house with your (grubby NYC) shoes on? also, you don't have to make your bed and you can leave candles burning for days on end because, damn it, you're not packing a quarter to the bottom candle. and who knew dollar store votives lasted so frickin' long?!

funny how sometimes it takes moving to make you appreciate where you've been. on all my neighborhood walks this past week, i thought, Gee, it sure is nice living here. it's so convenient. and pretty. and safe. huh.

this weekend, my boo and i hit up all our favorite neighborhood eateries one last time. which yes, means the deli-counter Mexican place on 21st that's open 24 hours and makes the BEST chilaquiles ever. primarily, it means we hit up the Chinese place on 9th Street. we've ordered take-out from there three times over the last forty-eight hours. we're maybe a little addicted to the shrimp toast. it's seriously injected with crack. in fact, thinking how i'm not going to be eating it tonight for the fourth night running, i'm getting twitchy. it could be that my body's blood to salt ratios are realigning or that there isn't anything not addictive about perfectly crispy fried white bread filled with yummy shrimp bits.

oooo gawd....

if only i could travel back in time.

aside from shrimp toast and The Office marathon on Netflix and chilling at home with my beau whilst we did sexy things like sort through our dishware, the other great thing about moving is...wait. i can't keep it up any longer. i gotta be real. moving su-uuuuuucks.

this is what my home looked like at 10 p.m. last night:

even i don't know what this is a photo of...

it looked like this despite two days of doing nothing but packing. despite my entry way being filled floor to ceiling with boxes and my little front room, too. despite there being so many black plastic bags in my apartment if you squint your eyes just right it looks like an oil spill (which in a way, it is), DESPITE all this, everywhere i look there's more to do.

and it's the no fun jobs like: clean out refrigerator. 

granted, it is nice sorting through old crap i haven't looked at in five years and minimizing ten boxes down into nine. i mean, who doesn't love coming across stacks of old photographs from ten years ago and be reminding how attractive they weren't. 


who doesn't love discovering the same years amount of old bank statements and credit card bills? the fact that i currently don't have a kitchen table (but do have one on order. woot!) means i most surely don't have a paper shredder. so who doesn't love shredding by hand ten years of no longer important documentation that has your account number on every single page? let's just hope that whole "people steal your identity by digging through your paper recycling" isn't a real issue.

where did all this stuff come from?

apologies in advance, but chances are if you gave me something for Christmas in the last decade, i no longer own it. ha ha! and though that's not something you admit on your blog and i've had too much caffeine, please don't be mad, i ditched lots of things i would rather have kept, like these babies:

yes, they are yoga pants/sweatpants that i've owned for i dunno, eight years. yes, they became nine feet long when the elastic waist band wore out in year five and dragged behind me when i walked like Dopey's sleeves. yes, they were covered in holes and cinched at my waist with a hair rubber band and had a bleach spot hand print on the butt, but i loved these suckers... actually i have to stop writing about them right now or i'm going to...excuse me...*roots around in trash*

ahhh...where was i?

the other fun thing about moving is that so few useful things are available in your house for the last remaining week. pans, for instance, with which you're supposed to heat up the left over Chinese food you're supposed to be subsisting on because heck no you're not buying groceries.

when i wrote to my guy and asked if i could use his hot pot to reheat my dinner. (no, not this hot pot, this hot pot.) he wrote back: "use the flat thing" by which he meant the one cooking implement we hadn't boxed up:

chow mei fun pancakes, anyone?

but since he didn't respond immediately and i'd started using the hot pot anyway and nobody knows how to reheat Chinese food on a griddle (ha ha! hiii baby!) i realized i was missing an even more basic utensil to eat my food with, that being, a utensil to eat my food with. ha... huh?
after three days, i got so sick of consolidating and moving crap from bags and boxes into different bags and boxes, and shredding, and donating, and selling (or rather not selling) things on craigslist, and responsibly disposing of all my plastic, paper, and home goods, that i did a truly terrible thing.

now, i say truly terrible in all seriousness. i don't even want to post the picture lest i lose your respect, but well, i just ate week old pumpkin bread slathered in peanut butter because the only utensil in my house is a knife and i was hungry. so when i saw my old cell phones in a drawer, i knew i could bring them to the new apartment and wait until an electronics recycling day cropped up 30 miles from my 'hood or i could do this:

so i did that.

i know! i'm sorry. please don't scold/hate/disown me.

if it makes any of us feel any better, it was a terrible experience. see that little blue phone? it was my first cellphone ever and it did not enjoy getting environmentally-irresponsibly drowned. it protested the entire time. first it showed me my contacts. then it simply wasn't having it and indicated it was powering down. then it changed its mind and whirled to life again and showed me the photos i had tried to see only a few minutes before but didn't because i couldn't remember how to turn the damn thing on. and then it buzzed, angrily, underwater, for ten minutes straight.

i felt like i was in Toy Story and i was drowning Woody.

but before you stop reading my blog forever because i just added to the massive mountain of tech garbage that's piling up off our eastern seaboard, please know i salvaged things, too.

since i bought Gorilla Glue for my Thorrie costume, i could now finally re-attached my little elephant keychain's body to it's head. i also had two, count them, two, ceramic birds that needed their tail's reattached:

better than white goo coming out your butt. soo uncalled for.

errr, yeah. you can thank me later.

but if moving is crummy (and it wasn't that bad, except for the whole packing part) what is the other option? not move and eat the same shrimp toast and chilaquiles for five more years? wait. damn. make a bad 'what if', Corrie.

but no. it's not that there's anything wrong with where i'm at now. it's simply time to have new adventures.

so the movers are coming at 10 a.m. on Friday to load up our junk and essentially steer our lives down a different path. so goodbye my sweet little apartment. thank you for sheltering me these last five years. thank you for the memories and the toasty heat and the quick to heat up shower and the no roaches and the utter lack of creepy-ghosty feelings that some apartments have. and thank you,  Marie, my dear friend and my amazing landlord, for having me. i will cherish my memories and truly, very much, miss you.

but now it's time to move to the second floor.