19 July 2007

I am going to hell

Things to say when your redneck-teacher-Bridezilla-ex-friend gloats that she's pregnant and you're not.

"Gosh, I thought you wouldn't ever do anything to make your hips even wider."

"You already live with someone who has the mental age of a five-year-old. Are you sure you want another one?

"What stage is it at now? Does it look like a turd or an alien?"

"That's okay, I llike not puking every morning."

"Well, it's a good thing your students got used to getting less attention from you during your wedding planning--they'll be used to it."

"Congratulations! And you won't even need to have a baby shower, because you already have all the stuff from your husband's other two kids.....oh wait....he's a deadbeat dad."

"Are those the same hormones that made you grouchy for the nine months before your wedding, too?"

"Oh no, I've heard it's always the end of a friendship when one girl gets pregnant and the other one doesn't!"

"Great, now you can finally come to girls' night every week, because your husband won't be home alone--the baby can keep him company!"

"I'll buy you a Toby Keith album to play to your bump--that way the baby will recognize her kind when she comes out."

"Gosh, it's such a pity our house isn't baby-proof."

"Maybe you should consider switching to M condoms instead of XL. They do have a history of slipping off, you know."

"So, how's that baby savings account going?"

10 July 2007


This is how I feel.

Or would you prefer this?

Sweet haunches of Hades, it's HOT here! When we moved in, I vaguely knew that the lack of AC would be an issue, but I conveniently shelved my worries in the more pressing need of getting away from the roommates. Now, well into July, the problem has reared its sweaty head.

Tips for surviving New York summers on a fourth-floor walkup with no AC
* Spend as long as possible at Borders in the evenings, basking in the glorious chill.
* Take multiple showers--one when you come home and frantically peel off all your clothes, one when you've washed the dinner dishes, and one when you go to bed. And possibly one when you wake up from the heat at 1 am, 3:45 am and 6 am.
* Get over the fact that the neighbors are probably enjoying watching you walk around naked. It's hot. You're past caring.
* Do as little as possible. This means housework, of course.

No really, I'm dying here. Frenchy didn't believe me when I told him that stand-alone air conditioners were $500. So I took him to see. Now he believes me. He wants to try and stick it out. I want to tell him to drop the last word in that sentence! I think I'm coming down with heat rash. Someone get me a cool cloth.

02 July 2007

Dilemmas in Homerentership

Even though we've lived in our apartment for exactly two months now, we still haven't finished the final touches on it. Still no seating in the living room other than a sprawling futon, still no bedside tables, still no decorative bookshelf from a company we shall call Clientell, still no free carpet that turned out to be an antique Persian carpet worth thousands and thousands of dollars so our friends aren't giving it to us after all. One can quite understand their change of heart.

In France, to decorate your living space with an exotic touch means Moroccan. Former colony, etc. So accordingly, we went out in search of some poufs, or ottomans (ottomen? If you search too long, has it become an ottomania?) and possibly some Moroccan lamps. I've had a secret hankering for a silver teapot in which to make sweet mint tea and for a pyramidical tagine to make proper couscous. (Note to self: do not confuse the two.)

Well, if you want to make a quick buck, it appears the Moroccan import business is the way to go. Damn, those things were expensive. They don't look difficult to make, when you really get down to it, and I was asking one vendor about the inside stuffing, seemingly a stiff cotton or wool batting. His shop makes poufs to order, he quickly volunteered, and so we browsed around the authentic handwoven wool tapestries to pick a pattern.

Frenchy picked out a frighteningly ugly (sorry, honey, but it's true) one, and for the sake of finally having something to sit on I agreed, and then came the delicate moment of finding how much this would set us back. Well, the fabric alone would cost $750, plus the cost of making the pouf which would be another $250! We found the front door of the shop pretty quickly! Dilemma part one. I think I can manage pretty well on my own, as well as do some decorative embroidery.

Now I get to browse the famous fabric stores where the Project Runway people shop!

But back to the dilemma part two--ever since the Clientell deal fell through, we still don't have bedside tables. A friend of ours is moving back to France in August, and she agreed to sell us her tables cheaply. Now, as much as I'll really hate to see her go, I really want those tables!