Chicken Soup Problems

While sick at home last Friday, my kindhearted roommates brought me home some chicken soup. I put it in the microwave to reheat and then I brilliantly attempted pouring the boiling hot soup from the plastic container into a regular bowl when the soup started pouring out from the edges and got all over the counter and all over my phone which was conveniently sitting on the counter. I dried off the phone but it started having weird seizures so I panicked and then my phone spent the weekend in a bowl of rice.

I feel like this doesn't happen to regular people.

I've heard of people dropping their phones in the sink or jumping in the pool with their phone in their pocket or even (on special occasion) people forgetting them in the washing machine. But never have I ever heard about a phone getting destroyed by chicken soup.

But getting back to the fact that I've been sick for an entire week in August with a phone that is (thankfully) no longer broken: I was pretty sure that "a cold" was called "a cold" because you get them when it's cold outside. I didn't think it was a thing to get "a cold" when it was 85 degrees outside. You can't even tell people that you're feeling "under the weather" when the weather is 85 degrees! This upsets me.

But I suppose there could be worse situations..I could be sick with a phone that was completely killed by chicken soup. Try explaining that to the Sprint guys.

Open House

So you're walking home from work after a long day and casually notice the sign on your corner directing pedestrians to an 'Open House.' You barely focus on the sign cuz those happen all the time right? But the big confusion occurs when you are approaching your house, notice a crowd out front, and start panicking that perhaps someone is in danger or your house is on fire.*

*Side Note: I had been informed briefly about possible open houses and someone had even reminded me about this one earlier that morning but either my memory is failing me or my brain was too tired to process the events quick enough.

As my confusion and panic set in, I quicken my pace and prepare to bolt up my stairs (to rescue the survivors obviously) only to get stopped by 2 border-control real estate brokers who tried explaining that I 'must wait in line' and first 'take a brochure.'** Excuse me maam but I actually LIVE HERE and you're in my way!

**Another Side Note: I'm not exactly sure why she thought a tired looking 22-year-old wearing a baseball cap would be looking to buy a 3-story brownstone... Is this how you know people take you seriously?

I tried climbing the stairs to my top-floor apartment but found it difficult maneuvering around the 15 strangers who were wandering around discussing how they could 'break down walls to extend the dining room.' (All this going on while us current tenants are sitting on the coach being watched like we're in a zoo up for sale which 'may or may not come with the tenants.')

Some lady tried making this whole ordeal feel like less of a violation by acknowledging 'how annoying this must be.' Yes. Yes it is. And you are still in my house. And you are still a stranger.

The second it turned 8pm we just started turning the lights off and shooing people out of our house, trying to regain our dignity before having to do this all again next week. Knowing me, I will probably forget all about it and go into 'my house is on fire' panic mode all over again. I'm not emotionally prepared for this.***

***Last Side Note: This may have been easier to take in had there been Open House cookies waiting for me when I got home. But no. What kind of Open House doesn't have cookies??

Weird Side of the Bed

I'm really not a morning person. Like I'd rather sleep in late and go to bed late than wake up early and go to sleep early. Don't get me wrong, the early hours of daylight are beautiful, but there's something about the busyness of the night time that I like better.

Also, I'm probably not pleasant to be around in the morning time. Some days I wake up overly chatty, after silently sleeping for so many hours. Other days I wake up and don't want to talk to anyone for a good amount of time while my brain wakes up.

But today I woke up a different person. I woke up (before my alarm) at 7am. Yes, that was AM, as in "three hours before I actually needed to be awake." And instead of turning over and forcing myself back to sleep, I got up, put on my sneakers and went for a 2.5 mile run. This really happened. I swear. I have photos to prove it:

This is what 7:30am looks like for those who haven't seen it in awhile.

This is called a 'running selfie.'

Timestamp: 7:51am

And as if it wasn't bizarre enough that by 8am I had already completed a whole exercise routine, I then came home full of energy and started to paint. Like on a real canvas with real acrylic paint. I may have gone a little crazy.

My whole life I despised exercise and I was pretty sure I was artistically challenged. And then I magically woke up one day and turned into one of the morning jogging people who apparently likes finger-painting before breakfast time.

This is what early-hours enthusiasm looks like. 

But now the real issue is trying to figure out if this is the new and refined me, or if this was just a one time woke-up-on-the-weird-side-of-the-bed type of situation. Either way, I hope it's something that will be happening more frequently because I secretly enjoyed forcing my morning enthusiasm onto all the non-morning people. (They LOVE that by the way.)

P.S. I may need to look for new roommates if this morning enthusiasm continues. I don't believe my current ones were so appreciative of this new-found crack-of-dawn ordeal...

Cheaper by the Million

My entire family hadn't been all together, under one roof, in four years.

There are 11 of us kids and then another 3 brother-in-laws, 1 sister-in-law (and 1 new one), 2 nieces, 6 nephews and 2 parents. For those who don't have patience to count that up, it comes out to 25 people in my (relatively) immediate family (26 with the latest sister-in-law). But it seems more like 4 billion when we're all together.

While home for my brother's wedding last week, I couldn't help but analyze the constant chaos. There were kids flying around the house, screaming and beating each other up starting at 7 in the morning everyday. Cereal spilled all over the floor. People walking around with hair dye in the hair, wearing shower caps like that's totally normal activity for 2am. My mother sitting on the floor of the kitchen organizing groceries, the fridge wide open, people all over the place.. It would be weird if all was calm and quiet in this household.

Normal living room activities.

I could never imagine what it would be like as an only child or growing up with only a few siblings. I wouldn't even know what to do with all that attention. Who would I steal clothes from? Who would hide all my clothes on the porch when they got mad at me? How would I ever learn to cherish my personal space because it's not something that should ever be taken for granted? Siblings are an interesting concept; you never actually realize how much you need them or how much they've affected you until you imagine what life would be like without them. How calm and uneventful your childhood would've been...

The whole family (including parents and the new sister-in-law). 

They may make me crazy (they may actually be crazy) but they are family. They are my family. And if you mess with one of us, expect to have 25 other crazy people coming after you.

Flying Solo

Airplanes are a very interesting place. You are stuck next to the same people, the same odors and the same scene for a good few hours and you pretty much just need to make the best of it.

Everyone always wishes to be sitting next to someone normal or entertaining but that never actually happens in real life. Real life is not a fairy tale romance where you meet the love of your life or your future best friend in the seat next to you on a cross-country flight. Reality is that you usually get stuck in between an annoying couple who keep passing food over you or next to some lady in the aisle seat who sleeps the entire flight and you can't ever get up. I get so jealous of the people having interesting conversations around me while I'm always stuck next to the snoring old Russian man.

But my flight yesterday was different.

Just in case you were wondering what gate I was at, now you know.

Everything from the morning on was running smoothly. I got to the airport on time, I wasn't charge overweight fees (even though my bag was probably overweight), I brought enough food with me to last a good few days...

Thanksgiving meal. (There was also a sushi and yogurt parfait. Don't judge me.)

The only thing that would make this flight better was to sit next to someone cool.

And as I was walking down the aisle to my seat, I was silently praying that I wouldn't end up stuck in the middle of the family of 5 with the 3 screaming children. Seat 20H was like a gift from God. Exit row, normal human being next to me, located in the middle of the airplane right next to the kitchen. The steward gave me free earphones because he said the movie was too dumb to make me pay $5 to watch it. I got an unexpected hug from the stewardess because she was giving the other stewardesses hugs and she didn't want me to feel left out. This is why I fly alone. (Also because when I actually end up in the correct city, I feel like I deserve a pat on the back for not getting on the wrong plane.)

I always get on the airplane hoping to make new friends and this was the only time in my life that that's actually happened.