Sketchy Overload.

I lived in NYC for four years. It was fun but it beat me down. I'm regrouping back at my parents' house. I'd feel lame about this except for the fact that I'm awesome. Anyway, sometimes I get sad I'm not there still. I was eating dinner with my parents tonight and my mom raised an excellent question: "Is there anything about New York that isn't sketchy? Your last landlords were kind of sketchy. That one roommate, she was sketchy." Her list went on. Touche, mom. Touche. It's safe to say that my New York experience was a sketchy one.

Take for instance, my job (one of many). I worked for a non-profit counseling kids. I really enjoyed some aspects of it and DID feel like I saved some souls (true story!), oh but the sketchiness was fierce. For one, the place underwent an FBI investigation involving peddling and kickbacks. And to think I never got a raise! I also worked with the craziest people ever. Former Santeria follower turned Mother of God cult addict was just one of many people who made me question my sanity. The place was for lack of a better term, SKETCHY.

Then there was the periods of apartment hunting and random roommates. I've done this in Boston and people are nuts there too but the NY roommate search was something else. I went to this one apartment and the guy who lived there told me the cat shits in the tub, hope that is not a problem. Ah, yeah, no problem at all...WHAT?! This guy also had jars filled with crabs in formaldehyde. On the walls, he had hung paintings he had created of crabs doing recreational activities such as riding bikes. WHAT?! And to think, HE DIDN'T CHOOSE ME. Sketchy!

I went on a date once which involved a dude having me install steel wool into the cracks of his apartment so he wouldn't get mice. Sweet way to work up an appetite buddy. Somehow I didn't mind this. Still, SKETCHY.

And there was the time I was watching the Red Sox at a bar and met a guy. Right after meeting him, he tried to bring me to a public bath house. I got all the way there before I decided this is too sketchy even for me and ran away.

Of course my experiences at the doctors were always sketchy as hell too. There was the time I got cut my thumb on a can and it bled for four hours. I went to see the doctor the next day. I called in and told them what happened. The doctor told me that it was too late to get stitches so he prescribed me some ointment and then he sent me down the hall for a hearing test. The person administering the test asked me why I was seeing Dr. Lerch. I told her about my thumb and she said Dr. Lerch is a hearing specialist. WHY DID THEY SEND ME TO A HEARING SPECIALIST FOR MY THUMB?!

A year passed and I was bit twice by a pitbull, once in my shoulder and once in my ass. I called the doctors, told them what happened and they rushed me in. DR. LERCH AGAIN! He muttered about  how pitbulls aren't good dogs, prescribed me an ointment and then told me I should get my hearing tested! REALLY DUDE?! I wised up from my last trip and was like "NO! I don't need a hearing test! I got bit by a pitbull! Jesus!"

Another time I had to get a blood test, and as always, I started to get woozy. I passed out with the needle in me and ended up lying down on a table. They brought me water, not even juice! And then they stuck the needle back in me! REALLY?! You get blood, I pass out, and you want to stick it back in me?! Great!

And then of course this happened:

SKETCHY

These are only a few of the sketchy encounters I've had in the Big Apple. There are so many more. Some of them are so terrible I may have to save out until my official memoirs are published. Still, I love the city. I do however think this break is much needed.

I'm Not Aging. At All.

I've been going through a lot of old pictures lately and I came to the realization that I have not aged AT ALL. Well, that's not exactly true. When I was really little I had blond hair then it went totally dark and I looked the same as I do now but shorter (and I'm not tall). In sixth and seventh grade I resembled a totally different person, slightly pudgey, rockin' George Costanza glasses (so terrible) and a sunflower vest. Then eighth grade came and I looked like me when I was six except with highlights. Currently I look even more like I did when I was six somehow. It's strange. My young look was reaffirmed a few weeks ago when my cousin and I were buying Micheal Buble Bubbly (so awesome) and the liquor lady thought I was fifteen and that was a stretch. OH BROTHER. I'm sure all of this will be great when I'm in my eighties.

Also strange is that I did the exact same hand pose (alright, different hand) in pics when I was a legit baby that I do now. Some things never change...

MOTHER!

My mom's been racking her brain trying to come up with a song to dance to with my bro at his wedding this Friday. I keep trying to convince her to do "Mother" by Danzing. She said though she LOVES it, there's no way in hell. If and when I ever get married, my groom best dance with his mom to this song.

The Song That's Getting Me Through!

The last few months have been quite "are you kidding me with this right now?" But things are surely looking up! Music always helps me feel better (except for those songs that make me sad, duh). When I'm not listening to Christmas music, classic rock/jams or the Rat Pack, I turn to "The Pursuit of Happiness" by Kid Cudi. Like the Kid, I also shall not slow my roll! Judge me not! Or judge me. I don't care!

I Wish I Could Be a Drag Queen.

I went out for the first time in quite some time for my future sister-in-law's bachelorette party. I was surprised to find myself on a party bus. They used to always park outside of the club next to Merc releasing wild women into the streets. I never pictured myself on one of these buses, being released. The music was bumpin' and the ladies were ready to get down. First stop on the party train was Jacque's Cabaret. First night out in forever and I'm going to a drag bar, great place to meet a guy! Jokes. But I honestly can't think of anywhere I'd rather have been. I first went to Jacque's five years ago for my sister's bachelorette party and had been back to celebrate a Labor Day since. The drag queens "werked" it. The last couple of months had sort of beat me down, but I was actually starting to feel inspired and full of life again. I'm not usually a jealous person but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel any green monster pangs. I wanted to strut my stuff to Niki Minaj and get tipped for it. I wanted to get low and wear feathers and glitter. Unfortunately, since I can't be a drag queen I think the only way I'd be able to accomplish this is for me to become a stripper. This doesn't seem fair to me. These ladies were living my dream! Ah, such is life. 

Great Aunt Evelyn is the SHIT.

My Great Aunt Evelyn is the SHIT. She is nearly 88 years old and is the most with it, positive, spit fire I've met. A real badass. She was really sick last year and in and out of hospitals like whoa but never lost her determination or gumption. She knew she was going to get better and kick it in her apartment again. The power of positive thinking is quite grand. She has one of those life lines now in case of emergencies. So if she falls down or catches a thing, she can pull on it and help will come. She wears it all of the time and didn't really even know how it worked...until one day when she was using the bathroom. Somehow the way she was sitting made the life line clash with the toilet. All of a sudden she heard a large, booming voice say "EVELYN OLIVAL ARE YOU OKAY?!" Aunt Evelyn was completely freaked out by this. Where was this voice coming from? She ran to her phone, no one was there. The voice kept booming. It dawned on her that her building must be on fire. She ran into the hall. Not a soul was there. Her walls kept yelling, "EVELYN OLIVAL, ARE YOU OKAY?!" "Hello, God???" After awhile, she realized it was her life line and she set the story straight, "I'm fine!!!!"

She also told a great story about her intense urge to make Portuguese soup. Her craving and determination were running high and she needed that hearty kale broth. This story involved climbing ladders at 3am and sewing cheesecloth together but it came out great!

Anyway, Great Aunt Evelyn is the shit. She does what she wants when she wants to if she wants to. She is totally with it and has great energy. None of that old lady (or young emo) poor me shit.

New talents.

Being in a different environment is a great way to explore to new talents. Since being home, I discovered that I am pretty good at playing dominoes and EXCELLENT at finding ticks on my cat. However, I am not good at pulling off the ticks so I have to leave my finger on the critters until my Dad has the time to pull them off. Gross. The end.