May 17, 2010

It's Hard to be This Awesome

I don't know what happened. I moved to Hoboken and every ounce of my organized being went out the window. This is most apparent with the frequency of which I lock myself out of my apartment. It's ridiculous. The first time, I had to call my landlord. Then I got smart—I gave my friend a copy. The next two times I did it, he wasn't in town and had to come home. So I figured, "Hey let me leave the front door key at the bar—it's always open." Well, good call on that one. This morning when I got to work, I realized I never put my apartment key back on my keyring from the weekend. But, no worries, my front door key is at Duffy's. Done and done.

I got home from work, retrieved my key and went home. I looked at my spare keys sitting on the kitchen table and thought, "I'll just put those back later. There's no way I'm locking myself out twice in one week." In the movies, this is what we call "foreshadowing." I went about my business—dinner, yoga, wandering aimelessly around the apartment. Then Brian came by. But he called at the same time he rang the door bell, so I went into spaz mode and didn't know what to do first. So I grabbed the phone and ran out the door. And then immediately realized not only have I just locked myself out again, but all of my spare keys are resting nicely on my kitchen table.

"Fuck! Fuck me!" I yelled, stamping my feet.

After letting Brian in and explaining the situation, then giving him ample time to wonder why he's dating such a retard, I knocked on my neighbor's door, who was definitely home, to see if I could climb through her bathroom window and up the fire escape. No answer. Nice. I'll remember that lady, if you ever need help. I tried my first floor neighbor, even though I am well aware he is never home. Today is no different. That leaves the garden apartment. I've never met this man, but I knew he was a quiet older gentleman. Lucky for me, he was home!

This is where I should mention my attire. I was still in my hot shorts and sports bra. That is all. What a fun way to meet the neighbor! If I wasn't so frustrated with myself, I probably would have been embarassed. But he was helpful and got the ladder from the back so I could climb the fire escape, not before noting, "Situations like these normally require a fist full of dollar bills."

Yup. Hey, at least I got in. Like Brian said, I should buy him something nice, because it's only a matter of time before I need his help again. Hopefully next time I will have a few more pieces of clothing on. But hey, whatever works. Maybe one day I will remember where I packed my brain. Maybe it's in with the dishes somewhere. I don't know.

May 5, 2010

Uncomfortable Situation

Sure Uncomfortable Situation was the name of our imaginary band in college, but it applies to so many things, including my latest brainstorm. A few friends and I were discussing the lack of cards for inappropriate family situations. Sure it's Mother's Day, but what if you don't have a good relationship with your mother, yet somehow still feel the need to get her a card? I/We think there is a market for these instances and "Uncomfortable Situation" could most definitely be a great greeting card "company" name for the venture, or maybe plural, Uncomfortable Situations.

Bald Guy Greetings exists and is amazing, they are actually my greeting card heroes, but I think our cards would take sarcasm to a whole new level with a smattering of verboten topics. Did your mother abandon you? Did Daddy leave for his new family? Did Mommy have a drinking problem? Well now you can celebrate your childhood traumas by sending passive aggressive greeting cards! Stay tuned...