I’m saahhhh-weeee!

I know that I’ve kinda d—ed out on Sarahcentric for the past few days, but I’ve got mad excuses. Working all weekend on a last minute project, wearing a dress to celebrate the sun’s first appearance in weeks, obsessing over the “Real Housewives of New Jersey”. And the biggest distraction of them all?

Final countdown to Australia!

10 days is not nearly enough time for me to obsess over the last minute details of this trip, including my favorite paranoid delusion based on unreasonable fear-a handsome, yet evil Australian surfer plants drugs on me and I’m arrested for drug smuggling. (Is that a real charge?) Of course I didn’t do it! I only agreed to take the package because I thought there were Oreo Cakesters inside, and I wasn’t sure if they sold them in Australia! “A likely story!”, they say (because they always say that), right before I’m sentenced to a Thai prison for life. Why am I extradited to Thailand? I have no idea.

If this is my fate, I can’t be wasting my time blogging! I gotta focus on my plan to become the Queen Bee of the prison…and organize the uprising…which breaks me out of that hellhole … so I’m free to marry the prison guard who looks exactly like Brandon Lee.

So you see?! Busy, busy, busy!

You know what sucks most about the days and DAYS of rain we have been getting in New York City? Not the frizzy hair, ruined outfits, or slimy flip-flops. No. It’s the LAME conversation. We are so completely unnerved by these consecutive days of cloud cover, there is nothing else to do but obsess about it.

“Oh My God…when will it stop?!”
“I’m never going to get to the beach!”
“Ummm… WHEN DID WE MOVE TO SEATTLE?!”

In an effort to open the rain conversation up a little, I think now is as good a time as any to tell you a very important Sarah fact; My very first concert was Milli Vanilli with opening performances by Young MC and Sweet Sensation. When the lights went down, I very clearly remember looking at my younger sister and saying “I CAN’T BELIEVE ROB AND FAB ARE IN THE SAME BUILDING AS WE ARE!”

What does this have to do with rain? Follow my train of thought here..

Rain… Rain… “Blame it on the Rain”…ROB AND FAB!…youtube…”Girl, You Know it’s True”…ooo, what about Debarge? The Jets?

Why is this bit of Sarah trivia so crucial? Because I loved them…I LOOOOVED them with my whole being. It was the first CD I bought when I got my Sanyo boombox with the top loading CD player that you had to pop open for Christmas. Before that, I bought every single that Sam Goody had on cassette. (Let’s not think about the millions of dollars I wasted on cassette singles. I just wasn’t as patient as the other kids who listened to Z100’s Top 40 and recorded it from the radio!)

Was it there Benetton bi-raciality that I so identified with? Maybe it was there old world European flair that I found so impressive? Could it be an admiration for simple, yet powerful choreography that anyone could master? Who knows. The map of a young girl’s heart, as she sways to “Bust a Move” waiting for the Big Act, is another one of life’s great mysteries.

Yes, my heart was broken once I finally accepted the truth. But I choose to remember Milli Vanilli as they once were. Our connection is stronger than lip syncing charges! It can withstand Rob and Fab’s creative fashion choices from the late 80s! And in the end, it will chase this New York City rain away.
As Rob and Fab say in their classic, “Baby, Don’t Forget My Number”…

Love is stronger than thunder.

One too many cups of Graham Cracker Coffee before heading back to the city.
Head and the Big Brain stored inside still severely dehydrated.
Complete blog entry filled with humor, love, context and acceptable grammar… impossible.
This is all I’ve got…

…Intense game of Trivial Pursuit with a favorite local family upstate. “Oh my God, if we’re playing the s—ty 2003 edition we have to make it more fun. LIFELINES!” Tipsy calls to friends and family both upstate and down, as well as shouts to a Dad in the same room doing his best to ignore us and watch the baseball game.

Winning answer: The Vagina Monologues. Of course.

Good times. Exhausted. Must rehydrate.

Ohhhh no.
I may have shouted “Chartreuse!” for an answer.
Wrong.
The answer was blue.

Being home sick ain’t what it used to be.
But let’s face it …what it used to be sucked, too.

Remember pleading your case to Mom in that crucial half-hour window, before you had to get your uniform on to make it to the bus stop in time? And let’s say she bought it this time. You’re not Typhoid Mary, but you actually do have a bit of a fever. Enough for her to be concerned and keep you home, but not enough to ruin what is sure to be a full day of cartoons and unlimited bowls of cereal in bed!

After you smugly wave good-bye to your brothers and sisters, you receive your first terrible shock…they stop running cartoons! There were no 24-hour stay-at-home-sick kid networks in those days. After Heathcliff and The Jetsons, it was nothin’ but Sale of the Century and Another World for as far as the eye can see. Panicked, you realize you have to wait until 3pm for the first great cartoon of the afternoon, Alvin and The Chipmunks. 3pm! Sure, there was always Loony Tunes at two. But what if they run the really old episodes with World War II references that you’re too young to understand and basically freak you out, instead of the Ali Baba Bunny episode?!

Ohhhhh God! Adding insult to injury, your bratty brothers and sisters have already housed the Cocoa Pebbles, Apple Jacks, and any other decent cereal worth its weight in sugar-probably on purpose. So there you are in your pajamas with your mother, pouring a pound of sugar on Grape-Nuts in a desperate attempt to make them edible, lost in the wilderness until Alvin, Simon, and Theodore rescue you at 3 o’clock.

From yesterday’s home-sick day, I am here to tell you that not much has improved. First of all, I was probably dying. My head was 400 lbs, throat was on fire, and my complexion was similar to the girl from The Ring. Sure, I have a DVR with Tavis Smiley episodes, Kung Fu Panda, and the Real Housewives of New Jersey. I ate a little better ordering the best Tom Yung Goong (thai soup) I have ever had. But overall… boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooring!

Please, someone call Alvin and tell him I’m dying! Tell him to bring the Chippettes because those episodes could not be beat.

And send Cocoa Pebbles…STAT!

Thank you for what must have been the smoothest trip from Queens to Brooklyn this city has ever seen. Although this did negatively impact my hairstyle, (more time was needed for the curls to naturally dry before applying my patented finger-scrunching technique,) I was thrilled to arrive in Brooklyn via public transportation without my usual mental breakdown.

Thank you for a bachelorette like Kim, who would rather do a cannonball off the Brooklyn Bridge then have a horribly embarrassing bachelorette event. Due to her strict ban on all party favors and games penis-oriented, we were free to have an excellent dinner at Flatbush Farm followed by rock and bowling at Melody Lanes. I forgot how cold the pitchers of Bud are. I also forgot how all of the New Edition, DeBarge, and Bobby Brown they play goes so perfectly to my skilled dance moves after every turn.

Thank you for motivating me to write the next day after way too much Bud. There was no way it was going to happen in Queens since I would be dangerously close to my couch and “Real Housewives of New Jersey” re-runs. So big thanks for the google search that brought up Cafe Grumpy in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I knew I was risking my mental sanity depending on the G train for anything. But Greenpoint- with its homemade pierogies on every corner and quiet cafes where it’s actually possible to get work done - is well worth the risk.

And thank you for the long summer Sundays. There is plenty of time to hole up in a cafe, but still make it back to Queens to witness this typical scene. I don’t think I’ll ever walk by one of these parks and pick up a game of basketball, handball, or chess. Still, it’s nice to know that after 8 years in New York City this is technically a right I can exercise any time I want.

Thank you.

Andrew rarely considers his friends before making extremely selfish life decisions.

My former best friend, (his title has changed as a result of his selfish behavior), signed a 100 year contract to work on a cruise which takes him everywhere-from Central America to Hawaii to the Pacific Northwest to the house where they shot “The Goonies”. As a result, mailboxes all over Queens are stuffed with postcards documenting Andrew’s Great Adventure. Here are some of the highlights…

Sarah,
I’m in Mexico…so touristy. I have been offered baby dresses, ponchos, cowboy hats and catamaran tours. I’ll pick up a few baby dresses, but that’s it!!

Sarah,
This card depicts a popular Hawaiian pasttime, “surf riding”. I know, because I am here at Waikiki Beach. Do I feel bad? No. I’m thinking about you and getting very excited about your Australia trip!

(The postcard of polar bears cuddling)
Sarah,
I figure I would sneak in from behind, stretch my arms out, and hug all of them. That way you could snap a quick picture just before they all turn on me. Please let me know if you have any ideas or input. By the way, Australia called and your trip is canceled. Sorry, I guess you’ll want to come cruise Alaska. I understand. I accept your apology. And I guess it’s ok. Just let know when.

Sarah,
I like these weird birds. I hope you do, too.

Sarah,
This picture does not do justice to how bad it smells here.

Sarah,
I am having the best coffee of my life and torturing this poor waitress with my bad Spanish. I think I ordered ice cream, but we’ll see!

Andrew. Come Home.
We need to work this polar bear photo shoot out face to face.

Watch it. Right now. See ya’ two minutes later.

Please God, PLEASE make me Dolly Parton! Just for this one number. I want to be on a variety show wearing a patriotic dress with way long sleeves! I want back-up singers who dress according to the lyrics of the song. But most of all God, I really REALLY want that Tennessee mountain accent. Like bad. I’ve been practicing! “Theees is cawwwled ‘Fawgy Moun’ain Top. Awwwl-rahht, Oh-kay.” Gughhhh, it’s so sweet, I can’t take it!

I try to be grateful for what I have and make do, God. I really do. I’ve been performing this number on my own every morning for the past week. I sing as loud as possible and tap the rhythm on my hip just like Dolly. But it’s not enough! It will never be enough! Not until I get on that set from 1969 with Buck playing that crazy guitar solo. Plus, I think my neighbors are getting pissed.

Totally reasonable request, God. Please make it so.
I will always love you.

I’m still running the numbers on this weekend’s 80 degree Maximum Comfort time. Early estimates are coming in around $432,738,015… and 22 cents.

The biggest pile of receipts by far comes from Australia shopping. With just a little over a month until I leave, I have gone into full-on International Freakout mode. My brain is generating pages and pages of a list which I like to call What You MUST Bring to Australia in order to have fun and avoid a “Brokedown Palace”-like Situation. I realized I was getting a bit carried away when I caught myself thinking, “Oh God, I need shorts. I seriously need shorts! What inseam should I order, what color?!…oh wait. I’m wearing shorts right now. Don’t need shorts.”

I pared my shopping list down to the big ticket essentials:
-Contact lenses
-Blonde highlights
-ice cream cone

Contact lenses are a no-brainer. I will definitely go through several pairs from severe dehydration brought on by a mind-boggling 21 hour flight to Sydney. If I’m going to eaten by a Great White on my first surfing lesson, I am going to damn well see it coming for me. Plus, I may have a chance to live out my best friend Andrew’s recurring fantasy of cuddling with dangerous animals, by quickly throwing my arms around the shark’s big head and smiling with it like we’re best friends. I can’t miss that.

Going summer blonde may not seem as necessary, but you have to factor in the two weddings I’m attending as soon as I get back. I really don’t think I can go to either one of these without looking like Dolly Parton, or at the very least, Beyonce. The highlights are also working well with my bathing suits. I know because I tried them both on immediately following my hair appointment. Fantastic! It was pretty weird when I realized an hour later that I was still wearing my bikini as I cleaned my apartment watching a “Real Housewives of New Jersey” marathon. Well, not that weird considering last week I was dancing around with English Muffins.

And the ice cream cone, well duh! It was 80 degrees which means that Baskin-Robbins is in season. I needed the sugar fuel and the clarity that can only from ice creamy-coldness to get it all done. It’s a scientific fact that my errand-running is 10 times more effective with a scoop of Cookies and Cream. You can find the results of that study in any medical journal. It was hard being experimented on like that…but boy, was it delicious!

So done, done, and DONE. All in enough time to share beers with some friends on Saturday and have brunch with another friend on Sunday. Brunch conversation is always great, but this one came with a “particularly” amazing bonus. My old friend Evan reminded me of a hilarious moment a few years back when he misspoke in front of Andrew and I about some concert tickets he bought for 25 dollars. So excited about his great deal he burst into the apartment and said, “You guys, you guys! I got 25 dollar PARTICULARS…I mean, tickets!” Ohhhhh… poor Evan. Brain vocabulary freezes are our second-favorite joke to exaggerated hypothetical situations which meant that Evan was dead meat. For days following, Andrew and I worked “25 dollar particulars” into every conversation imagining what it could possibly mean. It eventually turned into a ra-thah genteel Southern woman spending a lovely day at the Kentucky Derby. “Well, well, well..hellllooooo! My my! It’s ra-tha hawt out hee-yah, isn’t it? I’ll have a mint julep and a 25 dollah pahhh-ticular.”

A million receipts to still go through from my perfect summer weekend, but here’s what I have so far…

Ice cream cone: $2.75
Pahhhh-ticulars: $25.00
Maximum Comfort…priceless.

Happy National Donut Day… For real!

If you buy a coffee at Dunkin Donuts, they are just going to give you a donut…for free! I cannot celebrate this year because of bikini issues. But boyyyy, I’d be all over my free Marble Frosted, or maybe a classic Glazed if it looked fresh.

Don’t feel sorry for me. I had a delicious whole wheat english muffin with peanut butter this morning. However, you can pity me for foolishly dancing around my living room while eating said english muffin, losing hold of my plate, causing my breakfast to land directly on my shirt…peanut butter first.

Why do I do s–t like this? I really don’t know if it’s cool to be dancing around your living room before work.

You go eat donuts.
I’ll go change my shirt.

Ok. This is a huge problem for me…for obvious reasons.

Hey, Nabisco! How about the next time you decide to upgrade your all-American, perfectly processed, choco-licious treat to new levels by utilizing the most synergstic combination of flavors known to humankind you let a sister know?! I am the Cakesters number 1 fan and it is NOT cool for me to be blindsided like that!

Oreo Cakesters are only allowed in this home during periods of personal darkness and/or a new season of True Blood. So, strike 1… I’m crazy/happy/hyper about my trip to Australia and the new bikinis that I fit into thanks to complete breakfasts and Turbo Jam. Strike 2… True Blood season 2 doesn’t start until mid-June. (Yes, I’m well aware that True Blood breaks every one of my sci-fi/magic/fantasy rules, but these vampires are different. They live in Ny’orleans, but not like romantic, over the top Ny’orleans. Like, Ba’yoh Ny’orleans. Totally different. Plus, Jason Stackhouse, the hottest thing on the Earth, is from Australia. Ain’t no fighting that.)

Strike 3? Nabisco… if you so much as THINK about melting chocolate-y chips hoping to dip Cakesters into a vat of the good stuff creating a treat the likes of which the world hasn’t seen since the Hostess classic Chocodiles?! Well then, I’ll see you in court. I mean, not that I’ve considered doing that myself or anything…

Not cool, Nabisco.
Not cool.