Things I Don’t Tell My Dentist

When I was 22, I went to my family dentist with a chipped tooth. My mom started explaining and making excuses for me.

“I was drunk.”, I summarized. Dr. Traffley was amused and I couldn’t understand why my mom was embarrassed.

bridesmaids drunk

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This Week Just Keeps Getting (Unsarcastically) Better


I guess you could call this an info-graphic. If “info” means “Jill’s emotional reaction” and “graphic” means “chart”.

To summarize, my week started out rough (with a bright spot from Saint Tom). Tuesday got a little less worse. Wednesday, I got some productive writing-ish-things done, which made me happy. And then I just coasted from there.

I don’t see any reason why tomorrow can’t be all smiles and wine and cheese.

Excuses For Not Cleaning

It just occurred to me that anyone reading this blog, who doesn’t know me personally, might be under the misconception that I am a clean person, just because I criticize Daddy’s cleanliness. Well, I’m not. I try, but I encounter problems, such as:

  • It doesn’t come naturally to me.
  • I didn’t learn proper habits until college, and then I only did it begrudgingly under the guidance of the cleaning chart my roommate Peggy made out of a paper plate.
  • I’m busy.
  • When I’m not busy, I’m lazy.
  • I spend a lot of time writing bullet point lists.
  • I’m a type B person so I don’t really beat myself up for enjoying my weekends.
  • I don’t hate myself. In fact, I like myself so much that I find my own faults endearing, as if I’m Liz Lemon or Old Christine.
my anti-heroes

Of course, on TV, even slobs have clean houses. I mean, we slovenly viewers don’t want to be forced to look at a house that looks just like ours….

Liz Lemon’s Ikea furniture

Feel free to lend me your best cleaning excuses.

6 Things You Forgot About Using The Phone In The 90s

Apologies for not getting my posts out this week but I get a hurricane pass. Daddy got power back yesterday but now the Internet is out. Also went to the library today but their wifi was out too. So I’m typing this on my phone and hoping to upload it in a rare moment of 3G coverage.

So much to talk about. For example…
Crazy gas lines + traffic lights out = full-tilt jungle madness

[Imagine your own Mean Girls gif here. I really can't from my phone.]

Computer edit: try this one.

But my family was very fortunate that we didn’t have flooding and none of our persons or property were lost. Daddy’s power was out for 4 days and Mommy’s has been out for 5 and counting, but we’re making the most of it. We’ve been drinking wine and playing board games at Mommy’s every night.

My point is that I have nothing to complain about. However, I am now going to educate you on a little something we call “landlines.”

actual phone

We are lucky Mommy kept her old landline from before they got Fios, or we wouldn’t even have service. Plus her old corded phone that she dug out of somewhere. And when you can’t charge your cell (and then the cell towers go down) it’s nice to have a landline. But here are some things you may have forgotten about old school landlines.

1. No caller ID. The phone rings and you have no idea if it’s a loved one, a telemarketer, or your stalker. You just pick it up.

1a. Besides not knowing who it is, you also don’t know who it’s for. At one point we had up to 7 people hunkered down at Mommy’s. So you just answer it like “hello?” and then the caller has to, like, say who they are and why they’re calling.
Except sometimes they don’t. Because they’re not used to 90s phones either. So they’re just like “Helllloooo having fun???” and you’re like “um what?” and eventually figure out it’s Aunt Kath’s sister in Colorado.

2. Everyone shares one phone. So, if you want to call someone, but someone else is using the phone? You have to… wait.

3. The phone is connected to the wall. So, you can’t really walk places. Even if everyone decides to start having a conversation and/or turn up the News Radio 88 right next to you.

4. If you hang up but don’t really hang up right… you might hear “If you’d like to make a call, please hang up and try again…” and if you don’t hear that you’ll almost definitely hear some super loud beeping.

5. Sometimes, after dialing, you might hear… “All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.” or this weird thing called a busy signal. This has actually been happening kind of a lot.

6. There’s no browser on your landline. With no internet, you dial 4-1-1 and tell a recording the name of the person or business whose number you need. You are charged extra for this service because they know you must be desperate.

Seriously not complaining. I actually think its funny to relive my childhood. Makes me grateful for the device on which I wrote this entire post. Oh, and now that I’m done, I found out the internet started working again. But since it’s 2am, this is what you’re getting.

Feel free to share your most cherished inconveniences of the 90s.

Happy Friday, Or, May This Infernal Week Crawl Back Into The Pits Of Hell From Which It Sprang

Rough week, dear lovers and friends (just for fun).

On Monday I discovered a minor data error I had made at work and have been spending the rest of the week trying to undo everything that resulted from it. Funny how something tiny can blow up like that.

honey boo boo knows what I’m talkin’ about

Things I’ve neglected this week:

  • Following up with Penn Station lost & found (yes, still);
  • Hitting up the pashmina guy (I got a tip that he’s at 32nd and 7th);
  • Unpacking;
  • Various plans / calls with friends;
  • Any physical activity whatsoever.

Things I have not neglected this week:

  • Work;
  • Eating, for the most part;
  • Pissing off some girl on the LIRR by tapping her on the shoulder (still learning commuter culture).

Things I haven’t even attempted but need to get on top of:

  • Daddy’s house.
  • That’s enough of a to do list.

But my BFF Rachel is visiting this weekend so I guess I’ll just drink a bunch of wine instead.

guessing it will look something like this…

On Commuting

Some thoughts on commuting…

Ok, so… I’m going to commute for a few months… possibly longer (eek!) and it’s going to suck. But then I’m either going to move back into the city or, failing that, get a job on Long Island. I don’t understand people for whom this is the life plan. Like, you’re ok with never having a life or seeing your kids and shit?

Alice: Yeah, no. I can’t. I’ll just get a job curating the Hecksher Park Museum.

Aunt Kath had to commute into the city last week for training but she works on Long Island…

Aunt Kath: I don’t understand it! Who are these people? Who would choose to do this everyday?
Cutie (realizing I’m right there): Yeah, it’s for the young.
Aunt Kath: It’s for the stupid!

Well said, Aunt Kath. Well said.

But my new blogfriend from blurtblog made me realize I should just be grateful for the option of alcohol during the commute.

Alice got fancy wine (and fancy wine glasses) for Monday’s ride home
credit: Alice

So, explain it to me! What makes you ok with commuting 1.5+ hours indefinitely? Do you just love your job but can’t move? Do you love where you live so much that you would never think of moving? Or, if you don’t commute, feel free to rub it in my face.

I need answers, people.