Sunday, October 28, 2007

Some Things That Have Annoyed Me in the Last 18 Hours

1. ThosefuckingATMsthateatyourcard. Yeah. I left my card in an ATM last night and didn't realize it until this morning when I went to buy some breakfast.

2. Rather, this afternoon. My phone decided last night that it would switch over to Daylight Savings Time a week early, and I didn't know any better. As far as I knew, I woke early. So I took my sweet time getting ready and opened the store an hour late today. Now, every time I set it back to the correct time manually, it changes back to what it thinks it should be (an hour earlier). I'm going to be so screwed this week.

Halloween Costumes

I always pull together my Halloween costume at the last minute. No matter how much thought I put into it the entire month of October, the perfect costume never comes to me until I'm on my way out the door to celebrate with slutty cats and French maids. Last night was no exception. I arrived home at 8 with the vague idea of dressing up as VMA Britney, but needed to leave by 8:30 and didn't have time to buy a wig and my silver bikini was no where to be found. I thought about what I could utilize (my red hair) and took an inventory of the clothes I haven't yet packed for my move (very few). What I came up with was a pretty-dam-good-if-I-do-say-so-myself Pippi Longstocking.
I can't take credit for this industrious Halloweening of mine. I owe it to my father. My parents divorced when I was three, and my mother never celebrated Halloween because her crazy religion didn't allow it. Dad arrived one year realizing we didn't have costumes and not wanting to endure the picked through pink plastic princesses and black wigs of K-Mart. He did, however, have a few sheets in his car--a pale blue sheet and a Budweiser sheet (maybe he'd just done laundry? or he knew we weren't going to be dressed up?). A few holes and a piece or two of string later, my sister Jo and I were instantly transformed into ghosts. I don't remember which one of us actually ended up as the Budweiser ghost; I know neither of us wanted to be, and we fought about it. I also know my dad felt bad, but what I wouldn't give to be the Budweiser ghost now.

Friday, October 19, 2007


Welcome to the world of CHAIN TEXT MESSAGES. Maybe this isn't news (I'm throwing my cell phone out the window if it's not) but I just got my first:
"I better get this back! I love you to pieces! =) Today is best friend day. Send to twelve friends you can't live without."

Dad to Me: Drop the Subject

My dad refuses to go to my website. I shouldn't be all that surprised, he had to hang up the phone after he called to tell me that my health insurance statement had been sent to him and I warned him that he would find birth control on it. We didn't talk for weeks after that. Later, he googled me, only to find a first-person piece I'd written on colonic irrigation. I guess the "my ass had finally lost its virginity" line really got to him.

Tonight, he called to tell me he'd seen that I'd made the July 8 New York Times. He had searched that site for my name, assuming it was safe and that he'd not find anything he didn't want to. I told him to visit the press section of my casserole website to see all the other press I'd gotten, and that there was only one thing that might bother him, "but I'd be happy to warn--"

"No, I won't go to your website."

"But it's just--"

"No, Emily. Drop the subject."

"But I can warn you wha--"

"Emily, drop the subject now. I'm not going to your website."

"This is ridiculous, it's not even-"

"DROP the subject, Emily."

Alright. How 'bout them Chiefs?

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Best Craigslist Missed Connection Title. Ever.

Here. [NSFW]

UPDATE: It's gone now, but the title was something like "sucked your dick a little in McDonald's."

Monday, October 01, 2007

Life in the Astral

I live in The Astral, a landmarked building in Greenpoint. From the outside it is beautiful. From the inside, it is a death trap. My lease is up in a month; I've been here eleven miserable months. Since I moved in, my bathroom has flooded multiple times through the ceiling and I've been fighting an uphill battle to keep the building's bedbugs from closing in on me. To keep this post short, I'll give you just a brief overview of the past few months.

June 15-ish: I ask the super to replace my bathroom floor which has been coming up in pieces, and to remove the mold -- both results of the constant flooding. He says he'll do it while I'm in New Hampshire.

August 21: I return from New Hampshire to a still moldy, flooded bathroom.

August 27, 2007: When walking out of my apartment to take some trash to the street, I slip and fall on the wet stairs. I fall straight onto my back, and cannot move. Instead of helping me up, the man who had been cleaning the floor grabs his mop to sop up the rest of the water. There were no signs warning me of wet stairs. After about a minute and a half of crying, immobile (while being mopped around), I crawl back to my apartment and get myself halfway onto my bed, where I wait for friends to come help me.

September 15-ish: I ask the super to please fix the bathroom, and tell him that water is pouring out of the ceiling "right now." He says he's busy fixing the pipes and when that's all done, he will fix my bathroom.

September 20th-ish (a weekday, mid-afternoon): I look out my kitchen window into the building's "courtyard" and see the super accompanying a young woman dressed in stilettos and a bathrobe to the "work" shed. He is carrying a camera.

September 25: I return from a night out to find a giant cockroach in the entry way to the building. I find a man on the street to kill it for me before I can go in (yes, I'm a girl).

September 26: My bathroom floods again. Super says he'll send someone in ten minutes. Thirty minutes pass and I have to leave. I come home and nothing is fixed.

Bathroom mid-flood:

September 28: My friend leaves my place and says she saw a dog pissing on the dead cockroach... that's still there (see September 25).

September 30: As I'm walking home with boxes a local business owner asks me what's up. "I'm finally leaving the Atral," I say. "My apartment is falling down around me and the super won't fix it."

"Maybe if you pose for him he will," jokes the man. I ask him what he knows. Apparently the super runs an amateur pornography photo business. Apparently he also does this during business hours, when he could be fixing my bathroom (see September 20-ish). Eh?

The mold in the bathroom is growing out of control and is impossible to clean. In the evening, a mushroom begins to grow from the ceiling.

October 1: I'm in the bathroom brushing and flossing and get very dizzy. My throat has been burning for hours. I remember I'm allergic to mold. I remember that I often wake up with a headache. This is most likely toxic mold.

I won't bother to mention the bedbugs. Not even that one I caught biting me last night. In addition to moving costs, I now have to buy a new bed. Among other things.

I've given my notice, and am refusing to pay rent for October. What are the next steps I should take? Help!?

Bonus Picture: The Crack in my Kitchen Wall
(Behind that wall is the bathroom. Days ago, it was hairline.. or so I thought.):