I Keep Checking My Phone To See If MTV Called
Posted by Moose on February 13th, 2008. Filed under: Random Lists.One of my New Year’s resolutions is to remember how the door knob works. As in, leave the house once in awhile. When you combine vague narcolepsy (I have fallen asleep in bars and standing up at concerts) with a compass that always points toward L (for lost), you get a girl who likes to stay at home. I’ve been known to go weeks upon weeks without social contact, something that doesn’t register the way it should, other than twitchy limbs and an overwhelming urge to tell grocery store clerks about my day. Since I don’t want to become a sub-species of the genus Unwashed Hermit, I’ve been putting my calendar to the use for which it was intended: Inviting people over for food. Because I am a Jewish grandmother who shows her love with a large casserole dish. Judging by my grocery store receipts, I’d say I’m doing a fine job.
Here’s where I brag about my beef pot pies: I hate to sound immodest, but my beef pot pies make baby angels weep. Whether it’s because they’re so tasty or because I heartlessly [stop reading here if you're vegetarian or squeamish] chop up the flesh of a sweet, wide-eyed cow and thrust it into flaky pastry dough, I’m not sure. But BABY ANGELS ARE WEEPING. Also, dogs are nudging. I was interrupted every three seconds by a dog snout firmly prodding my leg, to make sure I remember that there is a hungry dog in the house and, goodness, is that BEEF?
Going out means getting READY to go out: I try on outfit number one, discard it because it convinces the mirror I resemble a water buffalo tricked out in red chiffon. I flip through several more outfits before deciding that water buffalos prefer brown velvet, and I clack to the bathroom. Several minutes later, I shriek and flail and yell a panicked request in the direction of the living room. Five minutes later, the sink has been taken apart and the pipes combed for an errant contact lens. Contact lens is retrieved from goo in the pipe and sink is reassembled. Contact lens disappears again. The floor is inspected, clothing carefully brushed, wrench and pipes eyed warily. Contact is found hiding under the cabinet. Glasses are worn.
No, really, we’re not: I would like it noted that at no time during this video am I drunk. Neither is Holly. Nor is Leah. THIS IS JUST HOW WE ARE. I like to think we do a killer sprinkler, but we may just blind the bar with our collective whiteness. At the end, I cackle like a witch with a cauldron and a fondness for Shakespearean sonnet.
I only pretended to blow smoke rings: At Leah and Simon’s a few weeks ago, we wore fez (fezes? fezi?) and blew smoke rings from a hookah. At my house, Leah and Simon watch while I dump rice all over the counter and then turn to inquire, “Is coconut milk supposed to do this?” while gesturing vaguely toward the gelatinous mass of tinned goo before sticking a fork in it and sending a fountain of coconut milk into the air. By request, I do the running man in my kitchen. I’m still not drunk.
Conclusion: I’m happier when I see friends on a regular basis. Also, fatter.
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February 13th, 2008 at 7:10 pm
Such a lovely post… although I laughed out loud at the water buffalo reference. I always tell Mike this or that makes me look like a bison, so I may need to borrow your animal of choice and spice up my self-insulting ways. I’ll totally give you credit though.
February 13th, 2008 at 7:35 pm
Well, I may have been a LITTLE bit drunk. But I’d definitely do all those dance moves sober. Probably not so well, though.
February 13th, 2008 at 8:06 pm
She Likes Purple: Animal references bring a large amount of joy to my life. Obviously. I like bison. I will use that tomorrow, when I have to shove myself into yet another too-small skirt.
Nothing But Bonfires: I’m guilty of a wee blog reality edit here. Only this time I’m making myself (and you!) less drunk rather than more. With my tolerance level, I don’t think there’s any way I can claim that a bourbon and ginger did absolutely nothing to my equilibrium. Just SNIFFING a bourbon and ginger would probably make me slur.
February 13th, 2008 at 8:33 pm
I know what you mean entirely. This cross-country move and not having anyone with whom to call up and meet me at the bar to showcase our whiteness by means of the sprinkler and the phone book has really opened my eyes. I NEED A SOCIAL LIFE HERE. Pronto. Hey, it’s only been 10 days, fair enough, but when you’re accustomed to post-work social activity nightly (though substitute “raise the roof” for “sprinkler”), 10 days is far too long to go without making a total fool of yourself in a bar. Just saying.
And you, my dear, are so tiny, you could never resemble a water buffalo. Maybe a meerkat (but hey, they’re slim and on top of things), but a buffalo, never!
February 13th, 2008 at 10:56 pm
That video was all kinds of awesome.
I plan on spending AT LEAST one night at Casa Leah/Simon in July.
If you even TRY to play shy I will HUNT YOU DOWN.
If only because I am now craving meat pie.
February 14th, 2008 at 7:36 am
I wish I owned red chiffon.
February 14th, 2008 at 10:06 am
Yum! Would you share your recipe for the beef pot pies? They sound awesome!
February 14th, 2008 at 10:41 am
Every time I watch that video I say to myself “Awww, there go my really white friends in San Francisco. I miss them.”
Can you feel the love?
February 14th, 2008 at 11:04 am
Camels and Chocolate: Up until about 90 years ago, if you got too drunk in a San Francisco bar you could be shanghaied. Which means your drunken ass would be hauled out and thrown on a boat to Shanghai, because sailors were at a premium. Probably because no one wants to be a sailor. Also, the meerkats are yelling “Don’t sit on me, for the love of god!” (I’m feeling a little melodramatic about my extra five pounds. It might be closer to eight. I haven’t stepped on a scale in awhile.)
Angella: I TAUNT YOU WITH MY MEAT PIES!
All Adither: My red chiffon was a total score at one of those second hand shops. You find the snootiest part of town – the one where residents are most likely to buy fancy outfits and abandon them after six months – and scour the racks.
ie: Absolutely. As soon as I get my act together to copy it out, I will post it.
Heather B: FEELING THE LOVE. Also, the whiteness. You really just have to own it. Own the white man’s overbite.
February 14th, 2008 at 7:05 pm
Oh how I love your writing!
Found you through Angella of the the Perfect Family & Photography Skills that I Envy and Holly of the Perfect Skin and Exciting Life that I Envy.
Food + Friends + Fun = Fat?? Dammit–now I know why I hate math.
February 14th, 2008 at 8:28 pm
I’m a vegetarian but the beef pot pies description did not bother me. I did, however, grimace in distaste over your contact lens in pipe goo.
Ew!
February 14th, 2008 at 11:00 pm
As someone who has actually eaten one of said beef pot pies, I must say that it is not only baby angels who weep. Full-grown ladies bawl with abandon.
And then said ladies sort of casually glance into the kitchen to see if maybe there is more of that flaky goodness hiding out.
I like it when you use the door knob.
February 15th, 2008 at 6:09 pm
Door knob … door knob. That’s that roundy thing sort of to the left side, right? I’ve wondered what happens when you use one of those things. Maybe I’ll go give it a try.
February 17th, 2008 at 8:57 am
Not drunk at all? Really? Thank god, video cell phones and tiny video camera’s weren’t around in my day…then again, cellphones/camera’s use as evidence may have prevented the need for damage control phone calls the morning after hitting a bar. (Joking comment) At least the dance classes paid-off with the use of counting!
February 17th, 2008 at 3:53 pm
Me too. You’re so lucky.
February 17th, 2008 at 10:39 pm
how the hell does one blow smoke rings, anyway? i’ve tried and tried and tried.
and i suck.
February 19th, 2008 at 12:26 am
Has Schnozz ever told you the story about how she didn’t know what The Sprinkler was, and then I posted a video on You Tube to show her? And then immediately took it down (I hope), because I was laughing so hard, and I looked ridiculous, but I LOVE The Sprinkler and could not bear for her not to know how great a dance move it is? OK, so I suppose I just told the story for her, if not. I also very much like The Lawn Mower. And The Shopping Cart. And that video.