First world lady problems

At the risk of getting all Jerry Seinfeld and being all “what’s the deal with that,” I’d like to open a friendly discussion about current state of feminine hygiene products in the year 2013.

Even though my energy for coupon clipping and deal hoarding has long waned, some residual benefits of my past obsession are that I still occasionally get surprise sample packages in the mail from various companies that I don’t remember signing up with. Recently, I received a little satin zipper bag filled with products from the Tampax “Radiant” Collection under just such circumstances.

self medicating.

i’m not very good at transitions.

when i was a freshman in high school, i blew out of all my classes and got bumped out of honors english. i spent too much time oogling boys at the skate park and drinking  yukon jack and kool aid from my best friend’s parent’s liquor cabinet. by sophomore year, i was back to my honor roll making, science fair winning, overachieving self.

when i was a freshman in college, my best friend and i used to joke that we should start a band called “champagne headache”. but for serious, i spent the entire year drunk on korbel watching “love boat” on the couch in the common area, and learning how to build the perfect gravity bong.  by graduation, i was back to my dean’s list making, resident assisting, overachieving self.

i’m convinced it was because i started kindergarten just days after i turned 5. always being one of the youngest kids in the class kind of messes you up. but whatever the case, i always get severely beat up when i’m wrestling the kraken that is change. although i do eventually end up victorious. usually.

as much as i overachieved with bong making and box wine swilling in my younger days, i’ve pretty much grown out of my substance abuse phase (save for the occasional too much bourbon day). however, i do have an equally destructive coping mechanism that still remains…

welcome to purge-atory. (part 2)

the ever mounting "TOSS" pile.

purge weekend certainly did not unfold completely as planned. whereas my paperwork stash did make significant gains (via significant losses), i mostly succeeded in moving things from one shelf to another, and squinting a lot at my shelves while attempting to determine exactly how i wanted things to look. i did scrape off a good chunk from the living room bookcase (which has been notoriously overrun with crap since day one), much of which actually ended in the donate pile (see inset).

i also nearly broke all of my bones falling off the counter… which i was standing on in socks (socks are slippery) to clean out my kitchen cabinets. but did find yet a few more things that can go (if anyone wants a popsicle mold shaped like rocket ships, you might want to hit the forest ave. goodwill this week).  it was probably worth the almost shattered pelvis.

after that though, things kind of unraveled. i was off to old port fest for fried mushrooms and panic attacks (WHERE DO ALL THESE PEOPLE COME FROM?), and then accidentally ended up having beers for 6 hours with some very smart and chatty friends. needless to say, when i stumbled home around 11:30, i was in no mood finish putting my toys away.

still, some positive things have still emerged from this somewhat wrecky purge weekend:

1. laura at fore front fashion has graciously offered to show me the ways of fashion minimalism. (can you say closet gutting session?)

2. the boyfriend actually did keep his promise and got all of his shit out of the living room.

3. 2 loads of trash and goodwill donations have already left the house, with the promise of more to come over the coming week.

4. i used my hangover as an excuse to eat cheesy pazzo bread for breakfast.

weekend pickthrough: a lesson in customer service edition.

today, something really lame happened. possibly my lamest retail run-in ever.

i was at the mall trying on dresses, and was feeling uncertain about a strapless number with somewhat poorly located pockets. still pretty cute, and at $19.99… definitely worth consideration.

so i threw a belt on it, walked out of the dressing room, and asked the nearest sales associate if she thought it was too poofy around the waist. as in: is the excess pocket fabric making it unflattering? (i may have even motioned to the bunchiness with my hand.)

apparently i wasn’t clear enough, because her response knocked me on my ass:

the plastic files.

first and foremost, i would like to apologize for not posting yesterday. i am still getting the hang of the daily posting gig, and also drank one too many bourbons after a particularly rough day and ended up face down on the couch at 8:30 instead of  writing my post. i repent. also, i am hungover as hell today- so my body is repenting too. but on to the promised content!

so i am very proud to say that a year has come and gone, and i have not used my credit cards even once. i did have to borrow money from the boyfriend on a couple of occasions, and i did certainly have more than a few months of barely scraping by (including and especially this one), but it still feels like progress to me. am i delusional? is learning to control my finances a gradual evolution, or should i have figured my shit out by now? i worry that it’s like being an alcoholic, where i either need to quit cold turkey or never get better…

as usual, i still have dreams and hopes of getting a tighter grip on my money and finally making a bigger dent in my debt this year. i’m still way behind from xmas and more other random unexpected shit (burst pipe!), but i’ve started a new habit to help defray at least a little of any future emergency money madness: i have become a gift card hoarder.

usually after xmas, i take any gift cards i might have and rush my little ass to the mall and spend spend spend…  but this year i promised myself that i would hold on to them for a bit and see what happened.  i have also amassed a few more from rebates and online surveys (i’ve had great luck with these guys), and my cache is looking quite tidy (see above). here’s my master plan:

weekend pickthrough- scavenger *unts edition.

big weekend folks. BIG WEEKEND. first and foremost, it was halloween, and i went to the single most kick ass halloween party of my life. probably of anyone’s life. huge props to my friend and party planning hero @profdiddy (and his equally awesome partner in crime mike d.) for managing to organize and seamlessly pull off a city wide scavenger hunt with 35 costumed, drunken and belligerent participants. oh, and while keeping score of the 40+ scavenger hunt items that people were rapid firing via text message to home base, they still somehow managed to put together a comprehensive slide show of the whole mess and donate the proceeds of the evening to my favorite local cause, the preble street resource center. some things i learned:

1. do not underestimate the power of a wasted chick dressed up like a crazy cat lady (even if she can’t stop screeching about her pussy while littering the streets with stuffed cats). she somehow managed to sweet talk our way into the fire station and get photographed kissing a fire fighter in the front seat of the fire truck, AND convinced 6 patrons of one of the fanciest restaurants in town to make a human pyramid in the middle of the street. at times embarrassing, inappropriate, and totally unsafe… this is the one woman that your scavenger hunt team can not do without. thanks again jolene!

2. people will do just about anything if you tell them it’s for a scavenger hunt (especially if that scavenger hunt benefits a charity). i already mentioned the human pyramid, but we wrapped strangers up in toilet paper, had them do the human wheelbarrow, got them to juggle mini pumpkins, and do full splits (while still on their waitressing shift). we even convinced an older gentleman dressed like santa clause to pretend that his giant candy cane was a giant joint. city of portland residents- YOU KICK ASS.

3. being a good scavenger is as much about being smart and ballsy as it is about being opportunistic. one of our challenges was to recreate iconic rolling stone covers with our team mates and strangers from the streets (with extra points for creative use of non-human objects). while in the fire house getting our kiss picture, we managed to wander upon rescue randy here. with some quick thinking and a willingness to roll around on the fire station floor, my friend michelle knocked the john and yoko cover pictured above out of the park. save for the guy dressed up as darth maul who actually got naked to reenact the same photo for his team- it was pretty much the hit of the evening.

4. don’t use the word “cunt” in your team name, or you won’t win the best team name contest.

for the record, we didn’t win (not even close), but it didn’t matter at all. i wish i could share all the racy and ridiculous photos with you, but you’ll just have to draw some pictures of what you think happened. i don’t think my friends would ever speak to me again if i plastered them all over my blog.

the second big thing about this weekend, is that it marks the kickoff of national novel writing month.  basically, it’s a group of people who have committed to attempting to write a 50,000 word novel from november 1-30th. just 1,667 words a day. simple, right? i’ve actually failed 3 prior challenges (the prize is the ultimate victory of having finished a novel), but i have a strong support system this year and am making one big change that i hope will increase my chance of crossing the finish line for once:  don’t ask me to hang out this month, because i’ll probably say no. i’m making deep cuts into my social life in the name of my writing, including a commitment not to go out to eat (save for one overdue birthday dinner IOU) for the entire month (perhaps this will also have a positive effect on my wallet?).  if you’re interested in reading my novel as it slowly rolls out, or you wanna jump on the writing train yourself, you can find my info here (if you’re in the writing mood, i demand you be nano friends with me).

i know, another weekend pickthrough without actually picking through anything. with election day around the corner, most of what i’m finding interesting lately has been about politics- and i don’t think this is the right venue to open that pandora’s box… (although i am happy to discuss it with anyone privately if they’re so inclined). also, i haven’t really seen anything super funny for a while. well, except maybe this.

weekend pickthrough- noisy neighbors edition.

so i know that last week i was all promising to squeeze the weekend pickthrough out by friday… but i assure you that i have a totally valid excuse for my failings this week. TOTALLY VALID!  (thought you might be more convinced of the validity if i used all caps). anyway, thursday night i went out with some friends, drank too many ciders, and then rambled home around midnight. at home, i tried shoveling some leftover mexi-mac into my craw for a few minutes, and then promptly passed out on the couch. easily, this could be the end of the story (although drunkenness wouldn’t exactly be as TOTALLY VALID as previously purported).

so i wake up around 2ish and decide that i should probably drag my drunk ass to bed if i’m going to make it to work in 5 hours. teeth brushed. sweatpants on. i hurl myself onto the space foam face down ready to lapse into an immediate coma…. and then i hear it: BOM-CHICKA-BOM-BOM BOM-CHICKA-BOM-BOM BOM-CHICKA-BOM-BOM. what’s that? the endless thumping bass line of my frat-boy cliche next door neighbors? i tried valiantly to let the booze wash over me and cancel out the thumping, but it was too late. i was sobering up, and unless they turned that shit down, i was never going to get to sleep.

so i go downstairs with the intention of gently knocking on their door and calmly letting them know that they are disrespectful assholes who should probably kiss my ass before i kick theirs… but they didn’t answer. i knocked louder. and louder. and eventually resorted to karate kicking the shit out of their door as loud as i possibly could for a good 5 minutes. still, no answer.

i finally went inside and devised the following master plan:

1. write sternly worded note that will effectively elicit guilt, shame, and compliance.

2. tape note to door.

2. emblazon door with the phrase “DOUCHE PALACE” in red lipstick.

4. write note to landlord regarding their inconsiderateness.

the note happened pretty swiftly, but looking for a lipstick that i was willing to ruin took slightly longer that i predicted. armed with tape, a wet & wild coral lipstick, and all the rage that my 5′ 7″ frame is capable of containing, i stomped across the porch to their door.

and then, the guy came out. FUCK. sadly, my plan would never make it past stage 1. also, i was so filled with fury (and booze), that i’m pretty sure i didn’t make much sense while i attempted to rip him a new one. i remember yelling DUDE a lot, and when he apologized, saying something like “GODDAMN RIGHT YOU’RE SORRY”, but the rest is an unfortunate blur.

i was shaking all over when i came inside around 3:15, which resulted in me not heading back to bed until around 4-4:30. seeing as i get up at around 6:45 to get ready for work…. that would equal exactly NOT ENOUGH SLEEP FOR BASIC HUMAN FUNCTION.

so last night after work (and a really big bowl of pasta), i did not pass go, i did not collect $200, i did not write my blog post… i went directly to bed (and slept for about 13 hours). so i’m sorry about the delay, but if you have any formal complaints, you can address them to the douche palace.

this hilarious sweet disorder post is just called “prostitute laundry”, and i think that’s all the introduction you need.

things organized neatly caters to my OCD-ness in the most attractive way possible.

i’m buying this book for everyone on my xmas list. and if you’re lucky, i’ll likely host an ill conceived giveaway so that you can have a chance to get one too.

let’s all leave little presents for strangers.

of all the mad-men spinoff websites that have emerged, this one is BY FAR my favorite.

the always amazing elisa doucette shares her dirty ex-stalking secrets, and helps us break the habit with EX BLOCKER.

i’m not sure whether designing speed bumps that look like small children is utter brilliance or a soon to be tragic mistake.

name brand foods are totally worth it if you coupon the shit out of them. too bad nobody told slashfood about that.

my child rescued the princess with no warp pipes (i don’t even have kids, and i demand that these stickers get made).

why are the really boring things on antiques roadshow always the most valuable? where are ben franklin’s anal beads or the left toe of hunter s. thompson?

new addition to the local blogroll! sort of webcomic meets fitness chronicle meets me almost peeing on myself with laughter.

weekend picktrhough- hotel bar boozin edition.

i should really make an effort to round up the weekend pickthrough a little earlier in the day. namely, before i’ve had half a pizza (an incredible specimen in mushroom & cauliflower from otto on congress street), three bowls of party mix, and a couple of very stiff cocktails at the top of the east (apparently the go-to bar in portland if you think you’re on the jersey shore). basically, if this weekend pickthrough feels like it’s half in the bag, it’s because it is.

a traveling toy store of amazing artness. here, in portland. right now.

screw disney! all the cool kids are spending their summer vacations haunting abandoned theme parks.

it’s not an unbelievable discount if it comes with a side of bedbugs. BEWARE the budget hotel of horrors.

just when you thought that food couldn’t get any more hilarious/disgusting… in strolls the mcgangbang.

the onion’s most hilarious joke ever.

unlike the pogs of my youth, at least sillybandz will still have a function once the insane trend wave finally crashes on the beach.

the most beautiful dry erase animation ever about what motivates us. (very surprising)

dear grandma, stockpiling would make more sense if you were feeding more than just you and grandpa. plus, this expired salad dressing is gross.

if you don’t want me to make fun of you, you might want to stop leaving me these passive aggressive notes.

apparently my friends sam & BJ aren’t looking out for me as much as i thought. (i thought we were friends!)

just to open a little friendly discussion… is it just me, or does grimace look like a giant scrotum?

Sorry kids, I’m not paying for college

There was a great article in the NYT last week about the value of not getting a college education. Mostly, It dicked around with Bureau of Labor statistics about the fastest growing career fields, and how in the future we’re gonna need more nurse’s aides than nanosurgeons.  And while this is true, and while I completely agree that there is a great need to bring back the vo-tech and ditch the “college or career suicide” type propaganda that seems to be rampant in our high schools… I think that there are better reasons not to go to college than just the best odds for job security. That’s right. Sorry possible future kids, you guys can go screw, because i’m not paying for college. and here’s why:

1. 18 is way too young to know what you want to be when you grow up. Picture it- 1995. When i was 17,I graduated from high school telling everyone that I was going to be a genetic engineer. WTF?! Good at science, but with an obvious passion for art that was somehow completely overlooked by me, my family, and my educators, somehow I wound up at Smith College studying biochemistry. Needless to say, I spent the majority of my 2 semesters there smashed on cheap champagne and watching the Love Boat in the common room. But don’t worry mom and dad, it wasn’t a complete waste! I also learned how to build a gravity bong and got really good at cybersex before they kicked me out! And it only cost you $27,000. A giveaway!

My booze soaked cautionary tale is not unique. The typical American high school aims to trap you in the college machine, programming from day one that higher education is an absolute necessity in order to succeed at life (and that non-college goers are sentenced to permanent loserville, qualified only to work at gas stations and fast food chains). They then give you a brief 4-year overview of a few select subjects, boot your ass out of the nest, and expect you to make good decisions. Except that you’re 18, and you still need the approval of your parents, peers, and teachers, and it’s the worst possible time and place for you to make big giant expensive decisions about the “rest of your life.”

2. Shit’s expensive. A year of tuition at Smith College was $27,000 back in 1995, but it’s edging closer to $40,000 these days. Um, that’s $160,000 for 4 years- not counting all the other bullshit expenses like books and room and board. Sure, there’s financial aid and scholarships and grants… but it can’t be denied that still, SHIT IS EXPENSIVE. Even if you don’t have an honors track top 10 school kind of kid, state school is still not cheap. My eventual and reluctant alma mater, the University of Southern Maine, is still a good $15,000 (in-state) a year after room and board. Coupled with the above point about how ill-equipped teenagers are to make huge life decisions, I think it’s quite clear that college at 18 is a TERRIBLE INVESTMENT.

3. I never appreciated the value of learning more than when I was paying for it myself. After I got the boot from Smith, my parents foolishly STILL sent me back to school to try again. Admittedly, it was a much cheaper school much closer to home. But, how exactly does a summer of shame and repentance make me any more qualified to plan my future? I did manage not to get kicked out of USM, and may have even learned a few things (but not too many). I certainly had fun, but did I graduate in 4 years? Um…NO.

Despite the fact that I stopped attending school in 1999, I would actually be one class short of a diploma until December of 2005. When i was finally tired of being ambiguous about my education on resumes, I enrolled in a couple of classes and finally figured out why non-traditional students seemed so irritating to me back in the day. It’s because they were actually learning something. They showed up to class on time, did their homework, and generally participated in discussion regarding the material that they had actually read (instead of passed out on after one too many Brandy Alexanders). When I was the one paying $80 for a single book, I magically turned into this person, and it was kind of a revelation.

So when I say that I won’t be stashing my pennies away for baby Broke207 to go to Yale, it doesn’t mean that I don’t want him/her to go to college ever (or that I don’t think that a college education can be valuable and worthy). It just means that I want that choice to be free from the pressure that high school life so lovingly and liberally applies. I just want my imaginary future family to be aware of all the options (trade school, apprenticing, working up the ladder!), and experience the world a little before they start themselves out thousands of dollars in debt.

enter the sandwich.

yes, it’s 10 pm and i still haven’t written my sandwich party post yet. yes, i slept until noon and then took a three hour nap around 8. and yes, when i finally woke up i ate half a casserole dish of cheesy artichoke dip for dinner. it’s been a weird day, and i’m not even hung over! (no seriously, i swear). the sandwich party was a balls out success, but it sucked out my life force and i’ve been completely deflated all day.

flash back to friday afternoon. after the power outage fiasco, the boyfriend picked me up at the starbucks around 4ish, and it was straight to the walmart, target, whole foods, liquor store and shaw’s for spending way too much money. arnold sandiwch thins had given me 5 $4/1 coupons, and the bread was only $2.50, so i got an extra $7.50 worth of savings out of the deal. too bad it wasn’t like an extra $150. um, parties are expensive. and for a girl like me who wants everything to be beautiful and delicious (fuck the cost!), it’s impossible to just open a couple bags of ruffles and call it good. i provided 5 varieties of sliced cheese, 4 kinds of wine, bermudan ginger beer, 42 ounces of swedish fish, and enough beer & vodka to take down a dorm full of freshman on thirsty thursday.

then, i stayed up until 3 am freaking out about the fact that i had never thrown a party before. that’s right, i completely lied to house party about my party throwing experience/ability. i’d had people over to watch movies, but always in a very non-committal way (i’m gonna watch showgirls on tuesday, show up if you want in). oh, and there was that one time i threw a wedding (oops)… but people have to come to those. the pitiful truth is that i was horribly embarrassingly unpopular in grade school. so much so that i told my parents that i didn’t like birthday parties- so i wouldn’t have to bear the humiliation of no one showing up.  even though i was lucky enough to have that unpopularity be fairly short lived (by 8th grade i was pretty much in the clear), the fear of having a loser party has stuck with me for the remainder of my life. (i told you it was pitiful!)

flash forward to yesterday morning. asleep by 3 am, up by 8:30 to clean my shit-tasticly messy apartment. in a way, it was a good way to distract myself from the party anxiety. although it also made me into a gigantic bitch, cracking the whip on my poor boyfriend all afternoon (i’m sorry baby!!). needless to say, our apartment was spotless by 7:15- just in time for three of my very amazing friends to arrive to help talk me off the ledge.  they set to work cutting up vegetables, pouring chips into bowls, and calling friends to pressure them into coming.  and they came. 20ish people actually showed up to my house for a SANDWICH PARTY. and appeared to have a good time. some notable moments:

1. i was able to serve 2 people their very first moxie.

2. as it turns out, arnold sandwich thins are actually pretty tasty. we made horseradish cheddar grilled cheese in a panini press (thanks kat!), fluffernutters, and tiny pizzas. (and no, i promise they didn’t even pay me to say that- i wish!)

3. about 1/2 the guests got really sucked in by “logan’s run“, and stayed to watch all 2 fabulous hours.

4. despite the utter lameness of the swag (grocery lists with “arnold sandwich thins” already written on the first line?!), people mercifully still took it home.

5. a slight misunderstanding of the party concept involved one guest showing up  with 10 fast food hamburgers. which was great, because i accidentally forgot to tell people that it was BYOM (bring your own meat). sorry guys! (and thank you teddy!)

6. i was so busy workin the room and making sure everyone had a sandwich in their hand that i completely forgot to get drunk.

what i learned is that being a hostess is hard work, and after the last guests finally wandered out around 1 am, i collapsed on the couch with a searing headache (i had also forgotten to drink any water during day and had crazy dehydration). 2 advil and 2 pints of ice water later, i crawled up the stairs and collapsed for a 10 hour slumber.

i’m sort of proud that i forced myself into getting over my loser party fear, and even more so for not actually having a loser party. that said, would i recommend house party to others? most definitely not.

1. their website blew and was difficult to navigate both for me and my guests.

2. the stupid evite i sent out via their website  looked so much like spam that nobody RSVPed and i eventually had to resort to facebook. (on the upside, they did not edit out the copious amount of profanity i used both in my invite and on my party page).

3. the swag was awful, and $20 wasn’t nearly enough for decent sandwich fixins.

4. i’m convinced that some people didn’t come because they thought it was like a tupperware party and that they might be pressured into buying something.

5. 2 days after i was accepted, they started sending me nasty emails about how i hadn’t invited people to my party yet (which made me fear for my kneecaps).

6. i’m fairly certain that there’s going to be an equally scary/annoying follow-up phase where i and my guests will be harassed for feedback about the party. i may or may not choose to completely ignore this phase.

basically, unless you completely love the product, and you know your friends will too… not really worth it. now that i’ve conquered my fear, i may choose throw another party someday. but house party as an organization can GO SCREW.