crazy mcpsychopants

Winnie

2006-11-20T16:51:00.000-05:00

It is with much sadness that I am writing this blog in memory of Winefred, my beloved pet and companion of the last 14 years, who has moved on to that great scratching post in the sky.

She was a truly wonderful pet, who lived in blissful unawareness of the fact that she was actually a feline, and really only got along with people. All visitors to my home were quickly greeted then attacked with requests to be stroked by my affectionate, if somewhat overbearing kitty. She was even kind to the never ending parade of boyfriends that I brought home to meet her, and she always preferred to sit on the laps of people who were allergic to cats.

She was quite well traveled for a cat, took one plane ride during the course of her existence (she did not enjoy it at all), and lived in a mind boggling 8 homes (all with me except the first). For the most part, Winefred lived an extremely happy life with the exception of a brief, emotionally turbulent period in Chicago, when she took to poo-ing in the bathtub to express her emotional distress. It did nothing to enhance her overall popularity in the apartment.

Winefred started life as a stray, was then adopted by me, and shot to popularity as a kitten, when she would entertain my friends by nursing off of a stuffed animal that resided on my bed. It was a cute parlor trick, but it was a little sad and possibly a desperate plea for attention.

She struggled with bulimia her entire life, a disorder which led to an increased consumption of paper towels by me. The affects of her weight issues were compounded by both her extremely fluffy fur and her inability to control herself whenever Purina cat food was accessible. Personally, I thought the extra weight just made her super cute. Her insecurities about the weight manifested themselves in a dislike of having her belly rubbed.

She knew her own name and, unlike other cats, responded to it, she greeted me whenever I came home, slept next to me, woke me up in the morning, waited outside of the bathroom for me when I was in the shower, and, despite never having mastered the English language, attempted to speak with me on a daily basis.

She was the best pet that I ever had and I am hard pressed to believe that I will ever have another one as wonderful as she was. Despite all of her bad habits and her extremely rank breath, she is very much missed by me. Even though I threatened to do it for years, I decided against having her stuffed and/or cloned upon her departure from this earth.

I'm a homo

2006-09-21T09:20:00.000-04:00

-wner.

After many agonizing months of complaining, at 2pm yesterday, I officially became the owner of a one bedroom apartment. And after several days of cleaning, a pack and a half of swiffer wet, countless paper towels and the untimely demise of two perfectly good pairs of poultry shears, I am now confident that my new home is not as dirty and significantly less likely to give you tetanus.

Fyi-poultry shears are great for pulling staples out of hard wood floors.

Ghetto Fab

2006-09-19T17:13:00.000-04:00

Look out your window. Are pigs flying past it? I only ask because the unthinkable has happened. No, TomKat did not convert to Christianity. I’m talking about me here, people. I finally got to move into my apartment!

Please take a moment to contain yourself.

Although I do not officially own it yet (hopefully that will happen tomorrow), I do in fact live there now. It’s very exciting.

I must say, at present time, it is in fact, the dirtiest place I have ever lived, and that’s really saying something. I once lived in a slug infested basement apartment with 6 other people, most of whom were too lazy to even change the toilet paper roll let alone clean the place. One girl broke an egg on the floor and left it there for over a day. By the time I gave in and decided to clean it for her, it had fused itself into the floor and had to be scraped up with a sharp object. This was the same girl who left a trail of bloody footprints on the carpet and once wiped herself on the bathroom hand towel when we ran out of toilet paper. About a week later she told us not to use the towel. I know dirt.

But I can’t complain, it’s my 1-bedroom dirt depository (or, it will be soon), and I can’t help but be proud of it. The seller’s were nice enough to leave much of their stuff behind for me to use. This morning, I discovered a mop that they left for me (see above). Apparently, from all of the cleaning, they wore the mop head out. Ever the industrious cleaners, they decided to recycle the mop by tying an old shirt to it in place of the mop head. And they were good enough to pass it on to me. I’m sure I will have many happy hours of cleaning with that mop and the broom they left me that is held together with masking tape.

What is the item I am most looking forward to unpacking? My piggybank of course! I’m pretty sure the change I have found laying around will allow me to re-coup the cost of my down payment. At the very least it will be enough to help me pay for a new mop.

The Internet is Crazy!!!

2006-08-28T16:11:00.000-04:00

Apparently, my blog is way more popular than I had realized, and by “way more popular” I mean that there is a guy from long island who reads it that I did not know about.

I guess this whole story really begins with me clarifying something. If you happened to look at the previous post between about last Friday and today, it was a picture of me and a guy whose face was blocked out with a question mark. I chose this picture because a. pretty much the only photos I have access to on my computer are pictures that other people upload to ofoto and b. I like the look on my face in this particular shot. Since I was writing about dating, I figured it worked to have an unknown man in the picture and again, I was quite pleased with the look on my face in that particular photo. But just to clarify, it is in fact a picture of me and not someone I dated, but someone I worked with.

Now, here is where I probably should have been a bit more cautious. I was writing about dating and for my “anonymous” friend in the picture I chose someone whose tremendous noggin’ is recognizable from space. I also chose someone who is married. Not a good call on my part. So just to clarify to everyone, I did not ever, at any time, date or even almost date the person (we’ll call him Francis) whose photo was up (although blocked out) on the previous post. I have definitely had lunch with him, we’ve argued a few times, and once, in the confines of a very small office, he farted and blocked the door so I could not leave, but we definitely did not date. Ever. And, for the record, I am still getting over the emotional trauma of the smell of that fart.

Needless to say, the picture has been amended, and now that it is just me in the shot, I realize how drunk I actually look.

So back to the popularity of my blog. Imagine my surprise when the above mentioned guy with a big noggin emailed me and said that someone that I don’t even talk to mentioned the post to him. I didn’t think anyone read this blog (beyond those of you who make regular comments – which I am so thankful for!). Do you think there are other people I don’t know who read this blog? Do you think there are people in Thailand who read this blog? If you are in Thailand and you read this blog, let me know, I’ll write about anything you want. I’m just so darn happy for your readership.

Oh and if anyone has any pictures that might be good for me to use in my blog, please upload them to ofoto and email the link to me. Clearly I do not have a large enough pool of pictures to choose from.

New Feature!

2006-08-25T13:26:00.000-04:00

In an effort to bring some consistency to this blog (and to supply me with a never-ending pool of material now that I have a mortgage and my cat didn’t die), I have decided to introduce a recurring feature which will be called “Why the Hell Did I Go Out With This Guy??”

In it, we will chronicle my experiences dating a particular guy, and hopefully, uncover why the hell I did go out with him anyway. At times, we will be looking at why I went out with him in the first place; other times we will dive a little deeper and perhaps uncover why I went out with him for so long. Most often, the answer will be desperation, but every now and then, we might discover something a little more complex (like denial).

Little side note: I am going to limit this to men that I met on the internet or in bars (sadly, there will still be a huge pool to choose from). I don’t particularly feel the need to discourage anyone who has set me up in the past from ever doing it again by insulting their friends. The one exception I will make is Tony Macaroni, because any man who refers to himself as “Tony Macaroni” (and he does) is just asking for ridicule.

So stay tuned, it should be interesting.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

2006-08-15T15:15:00.000-04:00

I need another bikini for my trip to Hawaii. Do you guys think I can score one of these babies at Macy's?

Apparently, wherever this woman is from (I am guessing the south, just based on the suit) they don't have mirrors. Or eyeballs.

I don't actually know this woman, so if you were hoping I could hook it up, you are out of luck.

Home Sweet Home

2006-08-10T16:06:00.000-04:00

Day 10,905 of no mortgage. This is not an exaggeration. I’ve been alive for that many days and I have never had a mortgage. I have especially not had a mortgage for the last 3 months.

I knew it was going to be bad, I just didn’t expect the whole thing to last so long. Given the choice, I think I would rather vomit for 5 minutes every day for the next two years than to have this stress go on for one more minute. As it stands, if I had to rush to the bathroom right now to be sick, while puking, I would think not of how I need to do a better job of chewing my food, but of how I really need my mortgage to be approved.

Every time I whine to someone about it (which is every time I talk to someone) they tell me “it will all be worth it in the end.” Seriously? Because I am starting to have my doubts. Not that I think you all are liars, it’s just that I am not even sure that gaining super human powers would be worth going through this much stress to get there. Did superman have to get a mortgage before he figured out how to fly? Doubtful. If he had, it would have drained his strength faster than kryptonite, I assure you.

In an effort to allay my worries about money, I have at times this summer, resorted to eating only cheerios for days on end (yes, I have lost weight. Thanks for noticing). Then, in an effort to fill the emptiness I feel inside from no social interaction and constant worry (and only eating cheerios), I will go shopping and spend the equivalent of several hundred boxes of cheerios on clothes, shoes, sheets and other crap I don’t really need (thank you, Macy’s credit card. I am your bitch).

Is this any way for me to spend the summer of my 29th year? No F-ing way! To make up for it, I guess I am going to have to rock out this fall and winter. Should be a good time.

For all of the whining, I do know that deep down I really want this and I am very excited about owning my own place. When I finally move in (I’m anticipating some time before Lent 2009) you are all invited over to check it out and enjoy some libations and snacks. Not all at the same time, mind you. I don’t think the coop board would like that at all.

Sweaty McPsychopants

2006-08-04T09:30:00.000-04:00

Holy cow people. It’s hot. I was really looking forward to the cold front getting here, and now that it’s here, I’m still too hot.

Something strange has happened to me in the last couple of years. I have discovered that I no longer enjoy the heat, and suddenly, I am sweating more than Mel Gibson at a Jewish Community Center. It’s hot.

Switching gears, my fabulous brother, Dan the Man, has inspired me to include a list of great things about NYC. We already covered pizza and ethnic food in the comments, and since I am lazy, I am just going to plagiarize much of the list that was included in last week’s TONY. One big item missing from that list, Friday and Saturday evening cocktail hours at the MET. Nothing is better than feeling cultured while acting like a degenerate. Except perhaps the beer garden.

Some of the things on the TONY list I am familiar with, others not. If you see something on the list that you would like to explain to the general population of this blog readers (that’s all TWO of them), please do:

311 – Best thing ever. I like 311 because it gives me someone to call when I am drunk without having to annoy my friends.

Blackout Sex – this, I am told, leads to a blackout babyboom nine months post

The Neurotic Polar Bear – You can google this, but it isn’t all that interesting

Wigstock – I would like someone to explain this please

Tar Beach – mmmmmm nice. Seriously, what the hell is this????

Hipsters – I totally think this should be on the list of things about NYC that suck, but apparently, somebody likes them

Christopher Walken – Don’t you just love that he made it on to the same list as Wigstock and the neurotic Polar Bear?

Real Estate Blogs – this blog may become one if my mortgage does not get approved soon

The high line – does this relate to drugs?

AMNH blue whale – I couldn’t agree more. This thing is just cool.

Free Delivery – It’s the best way to get fat

Your thoughts?

I, too, Love New York!

2006-07-21T09:54:00.000-04:00

It’s a fuzzy pic, so you don’t get the full effect, but this was the view last night as we enjoyed drinks on the terrace after the marathon sales meeting-training-extravaganza. No, I am not referring to Dave’s bootylicious posterior, I am talking about THE VIEW. FYI – this was the view to my right, to my left was the sun setting behind the Intrepid.

Little side note: the office I work in is pretty phat (that’s tricked out for those of you aren’t cool enough to know what the p-h- phat means, or who weren’t cool enough 10 years ago when it was actually being used). Yes, our office may be located in the ghetto, but we have a terrace, a gym, big kitchens, a full bathroom with shower, laundry facilities and many other lovely amenities. You may have the unfortunate experience of running into a transsexual hooker when you go out to get your lunch, but rest assured, most of the time, that hooker is not allowed into the glorious three floors that make up our office.

Back to my point, which is that I totally love living in New York City. I once said to my good friend Nicole that you really have to want it to live in New York, because living here involves putting up with a whole lotta crap. It is only by wading through tons and tons of that crap on a daily basis that you are able to enjoy the spoils of how fantastic New York City really is.

For those of you who don’t know, the daily crap consists of but is not limited to:
Transsexual hookers camped out outside your office building
Gross men who say “pssst” and “God Bless you Sweatheart” to you over and over as you try to walk anywhere in the Spring, Fall and Summer
Dictator like mayors
Tourists (who some of us think we should be allowed to shoot, but since they that haven’t legalized that yet I have to settle for violent shoving)
Psychotic Cab drivers
Roaches that scamper across the table after you finish a meal in your favorite restaurant
A dating scene that is so bad it has to be some sort of Candid Camera like reality show
Subways that don’t work when it rains, or when the workers refuse to drive the trains
Ultra competitive work environments
Seriously cold weather
Seriously hot weather
Seriously rainy weather (maybe these should be under the heading of Consistently Bad Weather)

There are more, it’s just too early for me to think of them, but I love it here!!! Urine smells and all!

Heather Marie Lachey

2006-07-18T10:21:00.000-04:00

Pictured here taking a much needed refreshment. There are many things, both wonderful and loud, that can be said about Heather Marie, but today we are going to focus on her dedication.

But where to start? She is committed to so many things, Karaoke (with or without the background music), Michael Jackson (with or without pending child molestation charges) and of course, Nick Lachey (with or, preferably, without Jessica).

Yes, upon hearing that Nick would soon be touring, she emailed every single person she has ever encountered (and most likely a few she has not) to let them know that she will be attending every possible concert within a 350 mile radius of wherever she happens to be.

A few things to note here:

1. She has no idea how much the tickets will cost
2. She has no idea how she is going to get tickets (presumably they will sell out 30 seconds before they go on sale. This is Nick Lachey we are talking about here, people)
3. She doesn’t care

Heather is looking for someone to accompany her to the Nick Lachey concerts (notice the plural). She will be happy to procure the tickets, but there is something even more important that should be inferred from the email that she sent to half of the east coast:

If you get tickets, and she doesn’t, you had better invite her.

Now, I really have no desire to go to see Nick Lachey. However, I am seriously considering getting some tickets to see him just to benefit from the extreme goodwill that will be flowing my way from Heather Marie, should I actually provide her with tickets to the show. Seriously people, if you have ever wanted to have someone hard core praying for your health and prosperity, I would recommend supplying Heather with the tickets. You won’t be sorry. Nick Lachey’s bodyguards might be, but you definitely will not be.

I will end this entry with a quote from Heather. On the subject of Nick Lachey, this is what she has to say:

“I, yes I, will TAKE WHAT'S LEFT OF HIM !!!!!!!!!!”

One of these kids is doing his own thing

2006-07-12T17:12:00.000-04:00

The guy on the left is my uncle Rob. They guy on the right is my uncle Rob’s friend, Rich.

The guy in the middle is Tim.

Tim had only arrived at the bar(presumably sober) shortly before this photo was taken. He said he didn't have anything to drink on the way over. I'm starting to think Tim might be a little bit of a fibber.

On the night in question, Tim and I had a reunion of sorts. Although I had been hearing about him, through Rob, for quite a few years, I hadn’t actually seen Timmy since I was approximately 5 years old.

Upon seeing me for the first time in about 25 years, Tim could only exclaim “You’re so big!” over and over again. I’m 5’2” 125 pounds. I’m actually not that big. You could probably take me.

Apparently, 25 years ago, when he first got to know me, Tim was under the impression that I was not a child, but in fact, a fully grown midget with a penchant for Barbie, the Smurfs and Count Chocula.

Life is just full of surprises people.

Beer! Garden! Beer Garden!

2006-07-05T16:45:00.000-04:00

If we have spoken in the last year, then you have probably heard me talk about the beer garden.

What??? What’s that? You’ve never heard me talk about the beer garden? Well I guess you just haven’t been listening (or perhaps, like Mike, your hearing is impaired by copious amounts of hair).

The beer garden is a magical place. There are 3 main elements that make it magical. They are:
the Beer
The Garden
I can’t think of the third one. Maybe there are just two.

Anyway, I love the beer garden, not just because of the beer, but also because of the garden and especially, because of the juxtaposition of the two. It’s a magical place.

Vanessa, Nicole and I were there this past Friday. It was the first trip of the season (sadly, the beer garden is not a place that is meant to be enjoyed 12 months a year). We had a magical time (READ: we were drunk).

This time around, I had the pleasure (READ: the experience) of meeting a young man from Long Island. I cannot remember his name, but I liked him because he was buying the beer (I couldn’t stand him but he was buying the beer). Perhaps my judgment was impaired (it definitely was), but I did not detect an overwhelming amount of intelligence coming forth from this young man (dumb as rocks, people).

In an effort to make conversation (and keep the beer flowing), I asked my new sub standard intelligence best friend what his favorite thing was. He told me it was his bed (subtle). I declared that my favorite thing was travel, and a light went off. I could see the gears grinding in his brain. There may have actually been a dinging sound that occurred. He suddenly understood that my question was meant to encompass a broad spectrum of ideas and possibilities, not just physical objects. Upon understanding the true nature of my inquiry, he took the opportunity to change his answer to something very graphic and sexual, which I thought was really classy of him. I then asked him to go get more beer.

What is the point of my story? Well, I guess it is to say that although I love the Beer Garden, although I think it is a truly magical place, although I would like to be there by 3pm on every single summer Friday, I do not anticipate meeting my husband there.

But seriously, you should go, it’s magical.

I just remembered #3. It’s the kielbasa. It goes very well with beer….and gardens.

kitty mcPsychoPants

2006-06-30T10:55:00.000-04:00

Since you asked....

ok, I know I said I wouldn't keep writing about the cat. This will be the last one (about shaving the cat) for a while...promise. Besides, I am only doing this because Deanna asked.

I have talked about shaving the cat for a while. She has very long hair and it gets matted. After being at the vet for 5 days, she had severe dandruff from the stress and there were bits of food that had permanently attached themselves to her fur. The cat sleeps in my bed. The fur had to go.

Interestingly enough, from the experience I learned that my cat would very much rather receive an intravenous injection from a non-nurse than receive a haircut from a non-beautician. Who knew she was so vain?

At The Wonder Woman Convention

2006-06-29T17:06:00.000-04:00

It is important to have a blog. Or, at least, that is what my Aunt Deanna (north) has told me. So, in the interests of becoming even more in touch with my inner nerd, honing my skills as a writer and educating the world on the fabulous life of a young (?) single woman in NYC, I signed up for a free blog. It’s good to know that infections and hypertension are not the only things that you can get for free in NY.

This is so not going to increase my productivity on the job.

Sadly, the birth of this column comes at an exceptionally dull period in my life (yay!). If you have been lucky enough not to speak to me in the last few weeks, then you should be warned that lately, I am really only capable of discussing 2 things:

1. The Mortgage I am trying to get
2. My sick cat who suffers from Feline Kidney Failure and who, as it turns out, is 69 years old in human years (14 cat years, there is a formula to figuring this out, I got it off a website)

WARNING: This Duration Of This Column Has No Double Entendre

I shaved my cat. I would like to clarify right now that I am not trying to tell you something dirty. I have a pet Feline, named Winefred, her hair was looking gross, so I shaved her. For whatever reason, I have decided to tell everyone this. Apparently, in recent weeks my social skills have gone way down the toilet. This is what it sounded like Monday at work, post- haircut:

Prudish Coworker With Her Mind In The Gutter: How was your weekend Christine?
Me: Fine, I shaved my cat.
PCWHMITG: I cannot believe you just said that.

Does your mind work like that? I’m not sure if mine doesn’t, or if I have just become so socially inept after several weeks of stress that I am completely out of touch with the world. Either way, I felt like a dumbass. It hasn’t stopped me though. This morning, in response to a friend who had written to say hello, I told a story about my cat crapping on the floor. Because that is what everyone wants to read about. It’s a really good thing that I have a blog. I promise that next week, there will be nothing about the cat in my blog. Unless she dies in which case it will be all about her for the next two months. Say a prayer.

QUESTION: If you were in charge of maintenance of a set of approximately 11 urinals, and they were numbered so that if one needed to have work done, it could easily be identified, how would you handle the second urinal? I’m just asking. It came up today. Seriously.

new and improved

2006-06-29T16:38:00.000-04:00

That black stuff strewn all about is just a tiny portion of what was removed. It was enough to cover all of the freezing cats in Siberia.