fuck yeah i'm annoyed.

someone knows something and isn't telling me. i'm feeling fine. really i am. but someone isn't telling me something and it's beginning to piss the fuck out of me. seriously. i'm smiling, i'm laughing, i'm going places, i'm doing things, i'm staying out of my own fucking head. i'm not debbie downer, i'm having a good time. i'm walking along, i'm getting shit done, and i'm feeling good, but, here they are, multiple people, people that are close to me telling me, insisting in matter-of-fact tones, that something is up.

are you fucking serious? is this a fucking joke? i'm feeling fine. i'm feeling good. i'm going places. the sun is coming, i can smell the spring air, and your telling me that i ain't right? i'm confused. all those other months, when i was crying and telling you something wasn't right, i was screaming that i was drowning in my own thoughts, and you, you just let it be. now you got something to say? nope. i got nothing for you. i'm done talking, i'm done screaming, hollering, & crying. i'm not drowning anymore. i found my way to the surface, i swam-a-fucking shore.

you know that phrase, "damned if you do, damned if you don't"? that's how i'm feeling. you wanted me to talk, i talked, you weren't listening. i'm done now, i said what i had to say, you didn't want or couldn't hear me. i helped myself, and i'm better for it. can i go on, i'm fine. if you don't believe it, then that sounds like a personal problem, maybe you should talk about it with someone, leave me out of it.

fuck yeah i'm aggravated. i'm aggravated because no one seems to listen. HELLO!? are you fucking listening now? i recently saw a phrase that said something along the lines of, "my family tells me i have a big mouth, or that i am too loud, so i should be quiet. but when i am quiet, they ask me what's wrong?" i guess i just wish i could get a straight answer from someone when i actually need it or ask for it...

"you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you get what you need."

surprise- a ruined 30th birthday

in march 2009 RB and i tied the proverbial knot. in april his grandfather died and in july his dad died. it was a rough year. in december, RB was slated to turn to the dark-side, dirty thirty. he didn't want a party. i insisted that this birthday of all the birthdays be celebrated. so i planned a small gathering of people to attend a "surprise" attack at my mom's house for his impending demise of his twenties.

it was tough for RB to see his family, so as unfair as it was, and they'll never understand it, they weren't invited, (other than his mom). i mailed out corny surprise party invites to people who had never been to my moms with the date and time, specifically to my grandmother and step-grandfather because they are older and i wanted them to know it was in fact a surprise. in big bold letters i wrote MOM'S HOUSE, with her address and her phone number.

so, sunday comes and i pretend that we are heading over to my parents for a regular old sunday dinner. RB is fine with this arrangement- its mooch-a-meal sunday. as he is getting dressed OUR doorbell rings. i cannot answer our doorbell, we've lived in this shoebox for 3+ years and i still cannot answer the fucking bell. ask anyone. we have a camera on our bell as well, just an fyi. RB goes to the bell and there they are, the lollipop guild themselves. now, i love my grandparents but they are little, they look so tiny on that little camera, immediate confusion comes on RB's face, panic is on mine.

RB lets them upstairs and my grandfather looks around our apartment as if he's going to see a slew of party people.

my grandmother comes into my bedroom and asks in his best whispered voice- which isn't a whisper at all- "where is everyone?"

me: "are you serious?"
grandma: "yes, where are they?"
me: "they are where you should be. at mommies!"
grandma: "you never told me that!"

and she storms out of my bedroom, grabbing onto my grandfather, leaving the apartment. RB is now completely perplexed, but obviously figured it out, i'm crying out of anger because it was something so simple, and so easy. i called my mom's and got my dad on the phone and told him what just happened. i also had to tell RB what was going on.

we head over to my parents house and my grandparents are nowhere to be found. RB is still surprised by the people that are there and that i managed to get a sunday dinner put together for him without him knowing. when i ask my parents where my grandparents are, my mom says that my grandma felt really angry that i never told her where she was supposed to be that when they got to her house she was ranting and raving about she just left.

i was infuriated! you ruined the fucking birthday surprise and then you fucking go home! really? i know you're old and shit but c'mon! grow up- you're mad at me no less when you were the one who couldn't figure out where to go.

eventually, she apologized, and she was really just embarrassed. now we laugh about it. well at least RB and i do, we mock the fact that his surprise birthday party was ruined by the lollipop guild. ha ha ha, "where's everybody?" she asked! bat. shit. crazy. they are all bat, shit crazy.

the fact is she didn't ruin it for him, she ruined it for me. he thought and still finds this entire story hilarious and often says, "let's have a party and tell your grandparents about it so they show up at the wrong house." ahhh, old stubborn germans.

kosher valentines day.

our first valentines day was in 2005 for RB and i. everybody knows what day valentines day is- february 14th. some might argue that RB is forgetful, or cheap, or dumb. either way, its funny, it worked out, and now it's our tradition, like many of my own family's random little traditions, RB and i have kosher valentine's day.

so, the story of our first valentine's day and everyone there on in is as follows: february 14th 2005 came, and nothing arrived, no flowers, no candy, nothing. i called RB and i was rip roaring pissed. i finally had a real boyfriend with a real job and real money. why was there nothing for valentines day? i mean, at the very least for the first one.  he was insistent that valentines day was the 15th. i began laughing at his ridiculous argument. seriously, you're 25 years old, you've had girlfriends and a mother and you actually expect me to believe that you think valentines day is the 15th. what a schmuck. he did! he checked his flower order, and he did indeed order his flowers for the 15th. he was amazed and how inexpensive his order was. dummy. 

the next year, he had flowers sent on the 14th and the 15th, naming the 15th, 'kosher valentines day'. i insisted that it was silly to buy flowers for both days. i thought it was much sweeter, funnier and the flowers were just as pretty on the 15th as they were on the 14th. it was decided from then on that he would buy flowers only for 'kosher valentines day'. cards and an item made can be given on actual valentines day but nothing can be bought for actual valentines day. 

kosher valentine day lily

like i said, some might say that he is an idiot, or that he was trying to get out of something, but i doubt it. RB can be that dumb sometimes. some people also find it ridiculous that he gets out of buying me an anniversary gift- but that's another story too... and a choice of mine, not his, plus, i know i've said this before, mind you're own house. 

the reason i married who i married...

a little background info- i've known my husband for 13 years. i kissed him first, i begged him not to fall in love with me, because i am bad news. the reason we got along so well as friends for so many years was because we had a similar sense of humor and that's why we continue to get along as well as we do.  i went to graduate school down the block from his apartment and he used to leave silly notes on my car while i was in class for me to read for my amusement after a long day of work and school. here is one that came much later into our friendship and dating relationship.

"for my whole life i have been told that i am smart as can be, everything has always come easy to me, at least academically. but as long as i can remember, i felt something was not there. but i knew that i could not place the longing i could not bear.

then, several years ago, you walked into my life. you became a trusted friend, we shared adventures every night. i stuck by you through times when people were speaking badly. you stayed by my side when i needed you, and from that moment you truly had me.

your birthday was fast approaching, a gift for you i tried to seek. a frog and crew, from me to you. but the better gift was given to me. i could not believe how close we became, how you were the best. ten you made my dreams come true, on the 347 at the hess.

you made me make a promise, one i could not keep. apparently you could not either, and it hurt to watch you weep. 'i'm sorry RB' i heard you say, through your pretty swollen eyes. the tears kept running down your face, but all i could do was smile.

'hey gorgeous', i said. 'dry those tears, no need to be sad. although it seems i've lied to you, i could not be more glad. your love for me is one i share equally back for you. who'd have thought that bliss would be found between a german and a jew?'

you smiled and laughed and looked up at mean and my heart skipped a beat. i gazed deep at you, and you at me and i could not believe how sweet those eyes were as they looked at me. i could not help but say, 'i've loved you for sometime now, but to tell you i was afraid.'

you've taught me quite a bit in this roller coaster of life. you've shown me hat there is always a passage through the strife. you've helped to show me the beauty in each passing season. and that everything that happens to us, happens for a reason.

the times we've shared won't be forgotten, no matter how long will pass. 'welcome to new york' in the orient and the several trips to vegas. aruba was full of all kinds of memories; tapas and poop in the sea... parasailing for the first time, alone but together and feeling so free.

each night i talk you softly to sleep or at least i try. i long for the day when in our bed we fall to sleep side by side. its not just that i want to make sure you sleep, tucked in safe at night. its that i need that time, you see, to share my hearts insight.

i repeat myself almost all the time, but that i do not care. all the things i say you truly deserve to hear. 'i love you, and i miss you' are just part of what i say, 'i appreciate you and all you are, you always make my day.'

i've never been so happy as the times i've spent with you. you've made me feel like heaven, its corny but it's true. life throws one a lot of curve balls, making existence sometimes rough. but i know that i can face anything with you, together wont be as tough.

i can never than you enough for just being who you are. loving you is the greatest thing i have ever experienced by far. you tell me how perfect i am and i only half joke when i say it's true. because as wonderful as you may think i am, i'm only perfect because of you."

if i had a do-over...

do overs are difficult because they are a catch-22. on the one hand i kinda feel all those experiences i've had in my lifetime i have had for a reason. they've help to mold me, shape me, create me into the person that i am and i feel good about all those unique and special, devastating, life altering experiences because they are mine. they set me apart from others. if they are apart of my past and make me who i am now and help to dictate who i might be in the future because they are there to serve a purpose: they are there to teach me. i have learned from my experiences.

however, on the other hand if i had the opportunity for a do-over... could you imagine the things that can be done? the foresight? but then, think about it. no pain? or minimal pain? what's pleasure without the pain? wouldn't you avoid pain? i might. maybe i wouldn't. maybe, i would just avoid a situation; like go "left" instead of "right", said, "yes" instead of "no".

did you ever see the movie "sliding doors"? it's not an academy award winning film, but it's an interesting concept. the idea that 2 parallels can exist. the life that happens if she catches the train and the life that happens if she missed the train. either way it works out. i started this particular entry 3 weeks ago when my faith began to wane. i wasn't sure how things were going to work out for me. i keep trying to tell myself it all will. it'll all make sense and be what it should be and needs to be. i'm not a bad person. i have no reason to be punished. sure, i'd take a do-over to some extent or a "go back in time" kinda scenario based on certain situations i've experienced, but doubt creeps in my mind and i feel defeated, broken, faithless...

stop.
breath.
head to the beach. listen to the waves. <open, close>. feel the sun on your face. you have faith, beauty, you will not be broken; you will bend, you will not break or be defeated. no one wants to listen anymore, i need to listen to myself, you need to listen to yourself, stop looking for others to help you find the answers; simply stop trying to find answers at all. just go. i don't need a do-over. this is the path, all i need is some comfy shoes to walk upon it.

thought for food

all of the following are absolutely true: 

cheese sammy from ferry building SF, CA

"gastronomical perfection can be reached in these combinations: one person dining alone, usually upon a couch or a hill side; two people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good restaurant; six people of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good home." M.F.K. Fisher,  An Alphabet For Gourmets

"i don't think any day is worth living without thinking about what you're going to eat next at all times." Nora Ephron, On Gourmet.com (Aug. 2009)

"one of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating." Luciano Pavarotti, My Own Story 

 lobster roll wolfboro NH

June and Jan came for a visit this past weekend and i was thrilled to have their company. i haven't seen either one of those hot bitches (kidding, neither of these wonderful women are bitches), mothers, in months. as my okie friend would say, "i 'bout crapped my pants" with excitement!  i'm pretty picky when it comes to food. i love food. i love eating it, i only eat when i am hungry and it better be good food otherwise i have no intention on wasting any calories on it. so, when they told me they were coming for a visit they too were excited because they knew that it was going to be a weekend of eating out; something these mom's don't do as frequently as i do.

Mama's Pan Dore = Heaven on a Plate 

my days, in all seriousness, revolve around when, where and what will be my next meal. thats just how much i love food and eating it. everyday and night i decide my meals based on what i don't want to eat. then it moves on to what i might be in the mood for.  i actually will clap when a meal arrives at my table that i know i will enjoy. that's how much i. enjoy. food.

with that being said, i had decided that since i was having guests i would give them the option of choosing our places for meals. of course, i would gladly provide the options for them based on criteria. both June and Jan were very grateful, excited and almost overstimulated by the options before them. 

June chose french food for our first meal. while Jan chose NYC pizza for lunch, and pub food for dinner. I might have chosen something different for dinner, however, it was not my choice, i was not the guest. it pleased Jan greatly to choose her meal, as though she was on a mini-vacation and it was my pleasure to oblige her request. for breakfast we headed to my mom and dad's for a home cooked meal. delicious french toast and then, just like a scrumptious meal, it and they were gone. (wish i could have breakfast with them every sunday).

eating isn't just something i need to do to live. eating is a time when i get to spend sometime with friends, family; have a good laugh, a good talk, share a connection with someone or something. i can eat alone, or with people, i prefer with company. as long as i have a delicious meal in front of me, at least twice a day, and i get to enjoy and clap for, every calorie will count. 

this year when i travel to europe i plan on eating, and eating well. my highlight will be paris, i have a strong suspicion that i will be doing a lot of clapping.

by far the greatest grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup ever made by human hands, muir woods national park, CA

it's all just noise...

if i were you i might worry. there may come a time in your life that i may just say what exactly is on my mind to your fucking face. i honest to goodness wish that people would just shut. the. fuck. up sometimes. noise. their voices are fucking noise. even my own voice is noise. at least i have the foresight to be aware of it.

this month marks my one year anniversary of beginning 'therapy' and at first i thought it was so great and helpful, healing, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. i think i might be worse off. i truly despise myself. sure, i self reflect. sure, i am more cognitively aware of my attitude, how i speak, think and act. behaviorally, i am advanced because i am more self aware and with  that self awareness comes self-loathing. i am an annoying human being. i hate being around myself. i have realized i have to stop going for my own sake. i mention this because i think its important for you to know that i am well aware that i am not perfect; far from it. i know that i am an insignificant person to others, that i can be irritating, and that i can pinpoint my imperfections. this is fucking hysterical, (i hope you are laughing, i would if i were you), because how many people do you know can be aware of all this shit about themselves, introspectively self-aware and still not be able to find a way to 'auto correct'? 

i say you should worry because, there may come a time, in all honesty, that you will ask me something, and want the truth and i just might give it to you believing that you actually want to hear it. in reality, most people are not willing, ready and/or able to handle my truths. i'm brutal. i mean, seriously, look how i talk about myself. of course, we are our own worst critics, but i pretty much take the cake in this department. it has happened in the past that someone has asked me something completely mindless in some regard like "what do you think of my sisters wedding gown?" and i have been completely and utterly honest, like saying, "i don't give a fuck about your sisters wedding gown. shit, i wouldn't give a fuck if it were you're wedding gown and we were getting married, you truly don't matter that much to me", and they have said, "oh, rapunzel, you are so funny" because they just don't believe that i am that serious,  or how could i possibly be that mean/cruel/brutally honest.

then there are those who don't worry. my friends. truth be told, regardless of my brutal honesty with them, they just keep it going. but sometimes i'm not sure they are even paying attention or listening. maybe they are just brushing me off, like my usual roller coaster self, i'll just dust myself off and get up and be fine like i usually am. meanwhile, i'm waving, screaming, drowning, asking for some attention that i feel like i deserve and i'm not getting it because it's just "not my style". i let it go, things slide, and life, well, life goes on...

i suppose i could just keep doing what i do now and walk away from people. hide in another room, hide behind a blog spouting profanity about a funny, aggressive, roller coaster ride, bag of human emotion, seems way more amusing to people. even still, every now and again and aggressive quip of nastiness is bound to fall the fuck out and that's why i say i wish people would shut. the. fuck. up. otherwise...

i would worry if i were you. you may not like what i have to say. you may think it's funny. you make think its sad. you may think it's just me making a lot of noise.

i know this much; it's only going to get worse as i get older, it sure as shit will get funnier though to those that it's not being said to. i hope you don't feel the wrath, and instead you get a good laugh.

the ac after thought...

atlantic city a place where people become gynecologists! why is it necessary for girls to find the need to wear the most ridiculous looking outfits. where on earth do they even sell these items? not for nothing, i'm no model, far from it actually, but still. if you aren't familiar with atlantic city it a a "city" on the shore where non-paid whores and paid whores show off their lady-bits.  i literally saw more vagina than i see on a daily basis and  i have one of my own. girls- get a mirror, a clue, and cover up the cottage cheese legs, ass and arms. stop wearing shoes and boots that you can't walk in sober especially if you are barefoot at the end of 3 vodka sodas, it's a hot mess, real quick.

obviously, i recently made the 180 mile trip to the 'great' city on the shore. we figured it would provide us an interesting adventure for a friday night affair. plus, it was a kick off for JD's crossing over into the dark side, (dirty-thirty). as we are making are way into 'downtown' ac, we are seeing signs for the upcoming performing artists, with each passing artist it is becoming quite clear that these artists careers are simply over, dead, ended. RIP Lauryn Hill, how sad, because she was once an amazing r&b/ hip-hop artist. mind you, we arrive in the hotel, it's huge, we get lost, ask for directions and the people who work there are 1/2-1 whole less a chromosome, therefore can't seem to help direct us to our final destination. great. we manage anyway, unlike the workers at the ac hotels, we are not cognitively impaired and figure their fucking retarded layout out.

after a dinner of singing, drinking, unwrapping numerous gifts of the exact same contents we ventured out into the crazed land of the casino. we went with golden girls we work with. the 50+ ladies we love. they are old enough to be our moms but they laugh at everything we do so it's kinda fun.

a loss of some cash in the slots and "huge wins" in penny slots, and me putting my card in every slot i could just so it would say "Hi Rapunzel" to me and i could wave back,  JD and i decided that we needed to add a little flavor to the evening. we began cheering on the golden girls for every minor hit on every penny slot. i mean cheering out loud to the point of attracting a crowd of. old ladies think what the golden girls are hitting, and we were yelling; $4.00, $36.00, $.75, $.10, etc. we're chasing down cocktail waitresses for free watered down shitty ass drinks because we figure if we are going to be here, we should try to drink a little, until finally it's 1:15am and we make it to some tables and play real games.

we immediately win back out lost slot money and one golden girl asks, "whats the pink chi worth?", we answer, "two-fifty". she seems shocked! she shouts, "two-fifty?! wow!" we laugh immediately and say, "no, two dollars and fifty cents." i head up to bed around 3:15, get lost on my way, but before i go i tell JD, she will wake me. so, sure as shit, i finally fall asleep at around 10 to 4, and at 10 after 4, my phone rings. "Rapunzel, the elevator will not go up to the 10th floor, are you sure we are in room 1039". "if we aren't in 1039, than i am sleeping in someone elses bed". "how can i get upstairs?" she asks. i tell JD to stay by the elevators, i'm coming down. of course she doesn't get the message and of course i'm in my jammies, which consist of a pearl jam concert tee-shirt circa 1996, huge sweatpants, and no bra and of course she's not there when i make it down. finally there is a huge amount of drunk and ridiculously UGLY people at the elevators while i wait for her to make it back. when she does she insists that the elevators don't work. we get in the elevator, i push ten, it doesn't work, JD says, "see, i told you!" i walk to the other side of the elevator, press ten, sure as shit, it works, i turn to her and laugh.

we get up to the room, finally get into the bed and she's worried because she thought i said "you better NOT wake me." i remind her that's not true, we laugh again about our interesting evening and try to get to bed. she tells me that she over heard some rando guy tell his drunk girlfriend, "i know i should have told you sooner, but we are just fourth cousins!"

i sleep maybe 4 hours tops, we get home, and go out to dinner and enjoy our saturday night. now, none of this may seem like anything worth reading about, or all that interesting. and maybe it was one of those "you had to be there times", but, by the time, JD and i got home or back to NY we were so feisty, punch drunk and tired, all we could do was laugh. it was worth it, and it was a good laugh, it's a weekend that we won't forget that's for sure, and a weekend that we have one liners that will last us a few months.

in the end, RIP Lauryn Hill and what a HUGE WIN! man, you're a Feisty Bitch! last but not least awesome hotel Bathroom Coffee... you all know what i'm talking about... so the next time you are thinking about an interesting weekend at the shore, just remember you'll earn your gynecological degree in the process.