Say 'Prune'

My friend from college, Jenn booked her ticket to come to New York for fashion week!! (Although I hate the clever designer types. I'm so boring next to them with my current event knowledge.) I'm really excited for a mini bookclub reunion. And I heart Jenn!

Here Jenn is teaching me how to pose for the camera as the Olsen twins do. Apparently the trick is to say 'prune' in your head.

Impromptu Picnic

I just got back from an impromptu picnic with some coworkers. My niece and I have the same definition of a picnic; food consumed outside.
Since I don’t have seating for more than 2 in my kitchen, the only time that I can have more than one person over for dinner is to have a roof picnic. The picnic has become my favorite way to dine. (Although as a girl who really only wears dresses, its difficult to do it gracefully.)

When I was living with Rob we hosted a number of “Old Fashion Potluck Picnic Parties”. (pictured) Its by far one of the best ways to spend an afternoon.

Interactive Wine

Rebecka and Tom told me about the new “robot wine bar” that opened last week in Time Warner Center so last night Heidi and I went.
Clo. It’s wonderful.

First you use the Minority Report-style interactive menu projected onto your table.
Once you decide on a wine, you use the ATM style machine that dispenses a 2-ounce pour. (Ranging from $3-$75. Naturally we stayed on the lower end of the spectrum)


We both fell in love with a Ribolla from Slovenia. Who knew??

Fire Island

I just got back from a long weekend with 5 friends on Fire Island. (Me, the other Erin, Mattias, Suzanne, Fredrick and Karen)
There was a lot of sun, alcohol, dancing, random injuries and white trash food.

Stories to come after I comb through my very full inbox.

71 Days and Counting

Halloween is just 2 short months away. Its time to stop fooling around and focus.
As a girl, there aren’t a lot of options out there that don’t have the word “naughty” in front of it. Naughty nurse. Naughty teacher. Naughty cop. All of these professions are the opposite of naughty in real life (at least in the hospitals, schools and streets that I’ve encountered)
So, the trick is to still blend in with my girlfriends who dress “naughty”, yet have a legit costume. (and of course, if anyone has to ask you who you are dressed as, your costume is a bad one)
I spent the later part of my afternoon narrowing down the list, which I now have down to 4.

Halloween 2007

Halloween 2006
Halloween 2005


I lived with Rob this particular Halloween and agreed to be a wrestler with him. A great idea in theory. But since the singlet pushed my boobs into my armpits, Rob was tackling me every chance he got, and I had too much to drink; I spent most of Halloween 2005 under this table.

Anti Soda. Sometimes.

Last night at dinner with my friends Tom and Rebecka I announced my genuine dislike of soda. Don’t get me wrong, I love the taste of soda. Especially Squirt. I just think that it’s the reason that our country is as fat as it is. Its incredibly harmful to your body and I think that soda is right up there with cigarettes. I guess because the conversation was so fresh on my mind, I had an orange Jarritos with my breakfast burrito. It was only fitting and sadly, I don’t regret it.
Sorry Rebecka for now being a hypocrite. But I think that my wine went better with the Swedish meatballs last night anyway.

Single in IKEA

I bought a full-length mirror at IKEA over a month ago. It’s huge, one piece, and I had it delivered. Over a month ago. But yesterday IKEA mailed me the assembly instructions (a little late, not requested, and unnecessary). Since it’s a one piece mirror and I’ve had it for over a month I tossed it without a second thought. But this morning I pulled it out of the trash hoping that the same graphic that brought me to hilarious tears a few years ago was included. It was!!

When I first moved into my apartment I was single and I went out to the New Jersey IKEA alone. I bought this piece that I was going to strip, paint and use as a TV stand. As a single girl in IKEA, I thankfully didn't have to lift a thing. The guys in the yellow polos saw that I never touched the table until the free shuttle arrived in Penn Station. I had no idea that the boxed table that I had to carry to the cab line, from the cab and up several flights of stairs weighed something like 70lbs. Once I made it into my apartment my shaking hands pulled out the assembly instructions to find this taunting graphic IN THE BOX. It was one of those moments where I was laughing and crying alone and couldn’t separate the two. The graphic seemed to define my singlehood.
Thanks IKEA for keeping the graphic. It’s morbidly profound.

39 Steps

Last night Heidi and I went to see the Broadway play, 39 Steps. For some reason we were surrounded by an older crowd. Much older. My favorite being the old lady sitting next to me who reminded me more than once to turn my phone off (I gave her no reason to do so, but I’ll give her warnings the credit for my phone remaining silent just the same)

The play was clever, charming, and a funny tribute to Alfred Hitchcock. I can see why all the oldies like it. My extreme love for The Golden Girls and I are right there with them.

PS1

I went out to PS1’s Saturday Warm-Up party with Jamie and some of her college friends. This years outdoor exhibit called P.F.1 (Public Farm One) looked great from above but from the ground looking up it I thought it looked unfinished and frankly boring. But the people were interesting and after the man with the dying violin got off stage, the music was fantastic.

Delayed Hangover

This is the result of my delayed hangover.







Im disgusting.

Drunkard

According to morph this is what I look like as a drunkard. However, the face I'm currently wearing is more accurate after dinner at Supper with my friend Ashley (2 glasses of wine) then drinks at Gramercy hotel (2 glasses of wine) then dancing at Marquee (2 vodkas on ice).







(Yes, I went to Marquee. Lisa had an out-of-towner who wanted to go.)


And this is what I look like as ½ girl ½ ape.















Morph: http://morph.cs.st-andrews.ac.uk/Transformer/index.html

Carrom

After our late neighborhood dinner last night, Lisa and I walked by a few guys playing Carrom on our block.
We stood and watched them for a bit in intrigue.
“Why am I just now hearing of this game.”
“Ummmm, You aren’t Indian??”

Peeper

During my lunch I laid out in Central Park for a bit. At one point I looked up from my book and saw this creepy guy filming me. After a few minutes I took out my camera and took his picture thinking that it would make him stop. It didn't.

Let me know if you see a video of me on the web wearing a blue bathing suit and giving this guy the middle finger.

BBQ and Mars

The ‘Life on Mars’ crew continued to live on my block until late last night. Its set in 1973, and the extras and set signs are a little too ’70s cliché if my opinion matters.

Instead of raiding the catering tents, I went to dinner with my married friends from college, Eric and Paige. Since we are all from Texas, when we get together its usually in a Mexican or BBQ restaurant. We decided to try out Georgia’s Eastside BBQ since its new and BYOB (their liquor license is still pending). Cheese grits, grilled corn bread, ribs and free beer. Again I remind myself to continue to try new restaurants. Its so much more interesting.

Sunset

I don’t have anything especially clever or witty to say about it, but last nights sunset was a beautiful one.


(taken from my bedroom)

Free Breakfast

This morning I walked out of my apartment onto a movie set. Not just any area of the movie set; the catering area. An omelet bar, waffles, cereal and fruit. Since I was late for work I didn't try to blend in and get breakfast, but if they are there all day I'm certainly going to try for some dinner later.

(The permits say that they are filming 'Life on Mars'. Is the LES Mars now?)

The Fam

I had to share this picture of my chunk niece, Madeline since its just too amazing.
And to keep the jealousy down, Grace is my other little nugget niece.
And Abel is my baby bird nephew.

Naughty Indian Princess

I'm not crafty. But I only like to use Land O Lakes butter when I bake because you can cut the knees off of one side of the box and paste them in on the other side to be her boobs.
This is how I spent my Sunday night after I baked. Its as crafty as I get.

Olympic Fever

I'm kind of embarrassed to admit how much time I spent watching the Olympics this weekend.

In Chinatown, they have these places which are just a large room with rows of chairs and a TV no bigger than 34”. This weekend they were packed with Olympic fever.

Fat Ass Newsroom

In my office, we have a cubical entirely devoted to free food. Doughnuts and bagels usually sit there in the morning and all kinds of cookies and chocolates in the afternoons.
Right now its filled with ice cream bars (and cupcakes). We newsies are free food-loving fatties.

Wallpaper

Last night I stayed home, drank a bottle of wine, and hung wallpaper in my kitchen. When I first moved in, Kelsey helped me paper my entry way. I highly recommend recruiting a friend who is at least 12” shorter than you to be your wallpaper buddy. It’s the ideal height combination for getting it done rather flawlessly. The ideal way to paper your wall with many flaws: drink a bottle of wine and hang the paper alone.

Erin Googled

Every few months or so I Google my name just to see if anything new has popped up (and because I'm more of a narcissist than my toddler niece).

There are 3 women with my full namesake all over the place, however I am none of them.
I'm still impossible to find through Google.

Pictured is Erin, the reporter in Santa Cruz. We Erins love to spread the word.

Not-So Happy Ending

My friend Doug turned me onto the Chinatown massage parlors a few years ago after one of our dim sum brunches. I had only heard of a Chinatown massage parlor as being a happy ending kind of place so I was a little hesitant. I sat next to Doug wide-eyed in the waiting room while he whispered “Don’t worry, this place looks legit”. It was $45 for an hour. Not bad, but you get what you pay for.

Now, unless I'm on vacation, I only go to Chinatown for a massage. It’s relatively clean, impressively comfortable, and fairly private. And still only $45.
Heidi and I were both having a fairly shitty week so we went to a very fancy spa for a massage. I had been used to the over-bleached towels and creaky beds of Chinatown so of course I was ecstatic for an upgrade. I entered the clean (and 100% private!!) room, got under the sheet and the masseur began kneading my back (the area that I asked him to concentrate on).
An hour later he says “ok, Erin. The time is up”. I rubbed my eyes open to find him putting his shirt BACK ON. At some point he had taken his shirt off while massaging me. It wasn’t a come-on or creepy. I even had kind of thought that he was gay.
Without saying anything besides ‘thanks’ to him I met Heidi back in the locker room and said something like “do you think its weird that my guy took his shirt off during the massage??”. “UMMMMM, YES!!!”
She told the receptionist who told the manager. Neither of us received anything free out of the complaint and as far as I know hes still working there and massaging sans shirt.

Bike Remains

A few reasons why I store my bike inside my apartment.

Waiting

I used to sell advertising, so I think that I have a fairly good understanding of how to treat a client. A client should never have to wait. Ever. However, a doctor will allow their client to wait so much that they have a room called the “waiting room”.
I went to the Dr this afternoon on time. After 30 minutes in the waiting room I asked the receptionist how much longer I would be waiting. “Just another 5 minutes”. 15 minutes later I was escorted into the examination room.
Over a text, my friend Melissa told me how her father (also a Doctor) handles such a situation, and since there was a posted sign in the waiting room that stated that if you were more than 15 minutes late for an appointment you may be asked to reschedule and pay a $50 fee, I had some courage.

Dr: Sorry I'm running late today.
Me: It happens. I’ll send you a bill for $50 for not keeping our scheduled appointment time.
Dr: Well, its not like I was in my office reading Perez Hilton.
Me: mmmmmhhhmmmm.
The rest of the appointment was a little tense. I don’t recommend threatening to send the Dr a bill.

Thieves

A friendly reminder for the people I work with.

Whippit Good

Walking out of Central Park last night we came across a few guys selling whippits. Huge purple balloons filled with nitrous oxide. Not having grown up in New Jersey I had never heard of a whippit until I saw it on Saved by the Bell, the College Years (yes, I watched that show.) I’ve never tried a whippit and I'm not about to begin now. However, I was racked with curiosity. Not for the experience of a whippit, but more for the legality of selling whippits. I know that selling anything in Central Park without a permit is illegal, but is that the only law that they broke? Is selling nitrous oxide in a big purple balloon illegal? What if they were selling large quantities of cough syrup? Is that legal?

Daughters of the SoHo Riots

Last night I went with Suzanne and the other Erin to see The National at Central Park Summer Stage. We couldn’t have asked for better weather and Suzanne was there with her pink leather flask to keep it classy.

We stood next to the VIP area (alas, the press pass didn't get us too far) where Julia Stiles was standing.
Me: That girl from ‘Save the Last Dance’ has a bunch of gaping holes in her shirt. I wonder if its on purpose or if she didn't even notice.
Suzanne: She probably can’t afford a new shirt since she hasn’t made a movie since ‘Save the Last Dance’

Anyways, The National was amazing. And I decided to put ‘Daughters of the SoHo Riots’ into my movie (if my book should ever become a movie).

Test Drive

Lisa and I spent much of the weekend on our roof laying out and reading.
Here we are purchasing chairs for the roof. As funny as Lisa is testing the chair (and umbrella) out in the middle of the side walk, the man using the bike “green" lane for his motorized cart/wheelchair is even funnier.

Flock of Seagulls

This picture is in a unisex hair salon window in the LES. My guess is that it acts as a deterrent to keep normal people from getting their hair styled there.

Suzanne Roast

Saturday night at Eight Mile Creek we sat next to a huge out of service oven. Huge. At least 25 feet deep. I dared Suzanne to crawl in and touch the back wall. The stakes got over $100 after we had more people interested in seeing Suzanne crawl like a GI Joe doll in an oven.
She didn't make it to the back (I don’t blame her) but shes my hero for getting in at all.

(great to see you Marisol!!)

Biergarten

Friday night I went with some friends out to Brooklyn (which still feels like I'm going out of town when I leave the borough) to Radegast Hall & Biergarten. $13 for liter of Erdinger Hefe-Weizen and delicious fries and bratwurst, which I felt like a pervert eating. I'm still out of my comfort zone when I can’t throw my arm up and get a quick cab to take me home, but Brooklyn continues to be random fun.

Homie

The caliber of homeless men in the Lower East Side. He told me that his favorite shirt (which at the time was too dirty to wear) says “New York effing City”.

Let Me Iron

I hate to iron. It’s the one chore that I despise. I will clean my toilet, my bathtub, my floors. But I won’t iron. (Accept when I'm at Melissas wedding. I ironed THREE times that weekend; which is more than I’ve ironed since high school.)

So randomly enough I came across a giveaway for this iron on Apartmenttherapy.com and I want it. Maybe I will win… and actually iron!!!?!?!

This is my entry:
“I don’t own an iron. I own a steamer. When I went to my best friends wedding a more prepared bridesmaid impressed us all with her steamer. I’ve been steaming ever since. As for an actual iron, no can do. When something can’t be steamed, I take it to the Lower East Side tailor and pay $2 for an iron (or the whole $8 for a wash and iron) This iron appears to be an iron AND a steamer. It looks like sweet nectar from the gods!”

Come on, Apartmenttherapy.com!!! Let me iron!

Ode to Bookclub

I email throughout the work day with 3 friends from college, Hammy (Melissa), George (Jordan) and Marty (Jennifer). Together we call ourselves Bookclub, although we have yet to read a single book at the same time or discuss it.
Bookclub is the reason that my day goes by quickly when the news is slow.
We share stories from our prior nights and moments of being annoyed with coworkers, all of whom are given an alias since we are writing on company computers. We work with people called Bipolar Oprah, Newsroom Hag, Cougs, Food Thief, and my favorite stories include a woman that Marty works with, Tits Mcgee.

Not only do we share stories, we offer helpful advice through amazing humor.
Yesterdays example is one of the Bookclub highlights. I asked Bookclub if they knew how to style your hair with ‘wings’ – that strange style of the past (yes, I was thinking of doing it one night to impress/scare my friends). Marty responded with this picture. (Jenn, I had no idea that you thought that I was so attractive!)

General Tso

Oliver, meet General Tso.

General Tso, meet Oliver… your murderer.