This Week's New Yorker

This week's New Yorker has a cartoon that just blew my mind. It is a picture of a man and a woman sitting at a bar. The man says to the woman, "is it horny in here, or is it just me?" Brilliant.

Love Thy Neighbor part Deux

It happened. I got the text message I've been dreading. It says:

Hey Cutty, I would like to have [dinner] this week. Lemme know what day would work for you. thx, Ben.

followed with:

hope you're doing well...

I know I said I would handle it if it came to this, but I'm totally chickening out. So far, I've written nothing back. I'm thinking that I should just text him and ask if his family is coming.

In the end, I just asked him if his wife was coming and then it turned out she wasn't. And then I got invited over to their house for dinner. Which makes me wonder if I was misreading his initial intentions, but I think what really happened was that he realized that it was a bad idea to try and get involved with a neighbor. Either way, problem appears to be solved.

Speaking of loving one's neighbors, my bedroom looks directly into the backyard of a local bike shop. Another way to look at that is that the backyard of a bike shop looks directly into my bedroom. I was exhausted the other night when I came home and walked into my room and took all my clothes off for the end of the day and because it's hot. As I was lying there I realized I could hear voices outside. I had, at this point, put on a nightgown. I walked onto the porch only to realize that some people were hanging out in the backyard of the bike shop after hours. They sure got an eye-full and then some.

Love Thy Neighbor

So, my mid-week, mid-afternoon drunk story has two parts: there was the birthday lunch and then there was this.

Wednesday was the World Cup game between Spain and Germany. There was a classic moment of watching the game when I said something about how Germany was taking a lot of really aggressive shots on the goal, only to be told that Germany was wearing the white uniforms. The only redeeming factor was that I hadn't been vocally rooting for one team or the other, but it was pretty embarrassing. Ooooops.

I just moved to a new neighborhood in Brooklyn, so I went to go watch the game. I walked into the bar and saw my downstairs neighbor. I don't usually like to get too cozy with my neighbors just because it's important to me to know that when I go home, I can just go home. I mean, I'm friendly, but I don't really do a lot of socializing with my neighbors, and this is precisely why.

So, my neighbor invites me to sit with him and offers to buy me a beer...no problem, we're just being neighborly here, right? Then he offers to buy me food, then he starts telling me about how his wife and kids are going on vacation for the next two weeks. Then he starts asking me out to dinner. I'm pretty weirded out at this point, but I'm still thinking that he's not really hitting on me because he lives in my very small building WITH HIS WIFE AND TWO CHILDREN. That would just be plain audacious right? Yes.

We've been having a bit of a heat wave here in NYC.It was 102 degrees the day in question. The bar appeared to be having some air conditioning issues and it was effing hot in there. A bunch of the men took off their shirts and so the female bartender took off her shirt too to the amazement and joy of most of the bar. That's when my neighbor turned to me and said, "Didn't you say you were really hot?", to which I responded, "I didn't know it was going to be that kind of party".

After the game was over he kept trying my buy me another beer, which I thought was strange and then he asked me out to dinner again. Then he asked for my phone number. I was still in this strange delirium where I thought there's no way he's being anything but friendly in a slightly overly friendly way, so I gave it to him. Then I got home and the truth of what had happened finally sank in and I was like, "oh shit".

Guess who I got a text from the next day? Yup, him. This is totally weird and inappropriate. If you were going to cheat on your wife, wouldn't you want your girlfriend somewhere where she wouldn't see your wife and kids and vice versa? I just ignored the text, but had to come up with a contingency plan for if he asks me out. I will just tell him that if his wife and kids come, that's fine, but otherwise it's inappropriate. Not cool, neighborman.

Mid-day drunks

While I like to think that I've been doing nothing in this heatwave but sit at home in the A/C and watch multiple series on Netflix Watch Instantly--Party Down, you have my heart--it turns out I may have been a little more active than that.

I managed to get drunk in the afternoon two days in a row (I guess Nana was right). Today is my good friend Lola's birthday. As I told her earlier today, it's a momentous occasion because this is just the first time she's going to turn 29! We met up for a birthday lunch at Gazala Place in Midtown. Excellent Middle Eastern food that it's extremely reasonably priced. We ordered a whole smörgåsbord of mezze- you know, tabboule, hummus, baba ganoush, turkish salad, foul (which was my personal garlick-y, bean-y, onion-y, oily favorite). Followed by Turkish coffee and two desserts one was an excellent baklava, and the other was really outstanding dessert called something with multiple words. It was a piece of cake (semolina, I believe) soaked in syrup and then topped with a sweet cream that was almost pudding-like in texture and topped with finely chopped pistachios. Another advantage of Gazala is that it's BYOB--even in the middle of the afternoon. Since we had a birthday to celebrate, we managed to plow through three or four bottles of champagne.

One down-side: I opted for the fancier bottle of cava, even though there was a cheaper bottle that was chilled. Listen, your friends only turn 29 for the first time once. When I was carrying the bottle in the bag it got a little shaken up, and since we have been living in 100 degree heat for 5 years, it wasn't getting any colder in my bag. When I got to the restaurant, I asked our waiter for a glass and to chill the bottle. He opened it instead and then half of it went all over the floor. I said, "I told you to chill that". He said, "No, you told me to open it".

Despite finding the service somewhat lacking, it was really a fun day, and I love Lola's friends almost as much as I love her. In fact, I'm getting ready to head out to continue the celebrations at a midtown bar where there is often a big night of drinking for people working in front of and behind the scenes in theatre. Two years ago for MY birthday, Ms. Lola took me to one of these nights and it was the best night of my life, and a story for another time.

There ain't no father to my style

I know I have been on a blog break for a little while. I've been a little bit on a break from everything, but I am back and I'm bringing sexy with me.

I wanted to write about some of the amazing things that have been said to me in the last couple of weeks. Since I made a Wu-Tang reference in the name of the post, I'll continue with that.

I was home visiting my family a couple of weekends ago and I was talking with my brother and my mom about martial arts when I said, "All I know about martial arts, I learned from the Wu-Tang". My mother, who has just turned 67, chimes in with, "Oh, yes! The Wu-Tang Gang"!

Other notable quotes from my nephew who is five and a half:

When asked if he remembered what it was like to fly on a plane told me, "Yeah, but mostly I remember that when the plane lands, it bothers my wiener".

He is growing out his hair and I asked him if lots of pretty girls ask if they can play with his hair. He said, "ummmmmmm, just my mom and you". Then he said, "you aren't girls: you're women!".

Another priceless moment was when my eight year old nephew and I were talking about how I'd be going to graduate school for social work(I was accepted at a fine New York City institution of education). He asked me what a social worker does. I started explaining to him that social workers help people who are having problems. If someone finds out they are really sick, or if there are problems at home, or any other time people are in crisis that's when social workers try to step in and help people deal. Then I was like, "Um, why would anyone want to do this"? Good thing I have already been accepted to the program.

My family is close with another family who has small children and their extended family. All of us went out together for Father's Day and I ended up sitting next to Granny. I had no idea, but apparently people don't want to sit next to Granny (no actual relation) because apparently she's "mean". I've never had that experience with her before. Boy, was I in for a surprise.

I ordered a bloody mary with my brunch (it was after 12 anyway), which is totally normal for me. My brother ordered a cocktail and so did Granny's grandson who is in his 30's. When my bloody mary came, Granny looked at it and smirked and asked me if it was tomato juice. I said that it was a drink. She smirked again, repeated that it was a drink and then loudly proclaimed, "Well, you must be used to drinking early in the morning." I started laughing hysterically and when people asked me why I was laughing so hard I explained. I pointed out to Granny that not only did I have a drink, but so did her grandson. She shrugged it off, and then her grandson pointed out that my brother had also ordered a cocktail. She said, "Well, naturally".

Moving Day is Upon Us.

Here are my questions:

Do you think my movers would accept BJs in lieu of a tip?
If yes, how does one broach the topic?

Happy Mother's Day to Me!

Recently, for medical reasons, got an IUD. IUDs, for those of you who don't know (Since I have such a huge audience), are Intrauterine devices and they look like this:








So it goes through the cervix and sits inside the uterus making the environment too inhospitable for eggs to implant.

I got the kind that has hormones in it. Let me stress that these are for women who have already had kids, ie their cervices have been stretched out by a baby coming out. So this is what happened when I went to get my IUD:

I show up at the doctor's office and am told that my insurance policy has been terminated and that I'll have to pay for the procedure out of pocket. I'm freaking out because I know that I still have insurance, and that I got a call two days previously approving it. I call my insurance company and realize that I just have a new policy number. Ok, that part is smoothed over.

I am the first patient of the day, so I am told to go back to exam room areas. I am weighed and blood pressured and then the nurse tells me that the doctor wants to talk to me before the procedure. (I am really nervous about this, by the way as I have been warned that it's a very unpleasant process. I'm pretty tough, so I'm like, "hey, I can handle this" except as the hours are ticking towards actually getting it shoved up in there, I'm starting to get a little anxious), so I find the idea that the doctor wants to talk to me reassuring.

I should point out that as I am sitting in the exam room waiting, and getting all the preliminary stuff done, I can hearing the doctor screaming profanity and yelling about different stuff. He doesn't seem to be directing it to anyone personally, but he seems really angry. So, I'm starting to get really scared that he's some kind of vagina butcher, not the mythical Vagina Whisperer.

So I get lead into his office and sit down. I say, "hi". He looks up at me and says "hi" back. "How are you?", I begin. He says, "What are you here for?" I say, "an IUD". He says, "Is there something you want to talk about?" and I say, "no, but we can if you want". He is quiet for a second and while still maintaining eye contact with me yells, "Nina! Why is my IUD in my office instead of getting prepped?!?". "Oh, shit", I think.

I am lead back to the exam room and told to undress. This is where I'm starting to get kind of freaked out. The nurse comes in and I ask her, "how badly is this going to hurt?". She says, "oh, there's going to be some pretty severe cramping". "ok", I think to myself, "I can handle this".

Then the doctor comes in. Now he's in patient mode and acts like the encounter we have just had hasn't happened, so I follow his lead. He's Mr. Affability and I'm starting to feel more reassured. I ask if I am going to cry. He tells me that he doubts it. I'm starting to feel pretty ok about this.

Then he opens up my cervix and I'm moaning and crying. Here is the best way I can explain what this feels like: if you've ever had a filling, then you know the feeling when they push the needle in with the Novocaine and it's burning and stinging and just hurting all at the same time. Imagine that on one of the most sensitive parts of your body. That's what it felt like.

I wish I was making this up, but then he drops the IUD on the floor while I'm all opened up and waiting for it, so the nurse has to go out and get another one. Then he put it in and I was sobbing. I said, "I guess that answers the question about whether or not I would cry". I felt like such a baby, and he said something about me being more sensitive than most other people (read: "you are a baby").

The part about this that I find most startling is this: I was concerned about getting an IUD since they are not supposed to be recommended for people with multiple sex partners as they can increase the risk of getting certain types of infections. So, I talked to a friend of mine who is in nursing school and asked her what she thought. She asked me how many sex partners I was planning on having in the next five years. I said that I thought a safe bet was that I wouldn't exceed 40. I know that sounds like a lot, but it's only eight a year. Don't be so judgemental. Anyway, the part that freaked me out was that I realized that nowhere in my calculations did it even occur to me that I might be in a monogamous relationship at some point in the next five years. That's a tad depressing.

So the update on this is that my first IUD came out and they put a new one in. That one has started to come out as well. Since it was just Mothers Day and all, I thought I should make the announcement that I'm the proud single mother of two pieces of plastic! Hoorah!