It all started so innocently. My sister was going to come over, walk the dog with me and then we we’re going to go shoe shopping.

I was hanging out in the living room, and I heard her come up the steps, so I went to open the door before she got to it – otherwise Eva starts getting a little weird when people knock on the door. I went to turn the doorknob, and it was stuck. It wouldn’t turn.

I called out to her, and told her to get her key out of the lock (sometimes she tries to surprise the dog) and she said she wasn’t even up the stairs yet.

I jiggled the doorknob – nothing. I played with the lock. Nothing. I tried to have HER unlock the door. Still nothing. Totally jammed. Eva and I were locked in the apartment. On a Sunday – and one of us needed to go outside to pee. And one of us was locked on the other side, closer to freedom but wanting a snack.

Marisa had the genius idea to remove the doorknob. So, I found a screwdriver in the myriad of toolboxes (I really need to speak to Frank about how to better organize that hall closet) and I took off the doorknob.

Still no luck. The metal bolt thingamabob was stuck in the door.  We called the maintenance guys who reluctantly agreed to come over and help. After about 45 minutes, and a search for needle nose pliers later  — we got the door open. And it was totally destroyed. But – I was free!!!

And then I shoved a towel in the door to use as a makeshift doorknob. Thank goodness I still had a working deadbolt. The guy agreed to come back tomorrow “after lunch” to install a new doorknob, which I had to go out and buy. Great. So, I just have a towel for a doorknob and a broken door and a deadbolt separating Eva from the rest of the world.

We took our chances and failed. No shoes were purchased, but one new doorknob was.

I waited the whole next morning at home, for after lunch. I called the cell number he gave me. He picked up, I heard kids in the background, I told him who I was and … he hung up. All calls went straight to voice mail.

I called his boss, who informed me that it’s my personal door and my problem, and if the guy doesn’t want to fix it, that’s between me and “the guy.” Also, it’s his day off, so why am I calling him?

Ducky.

So, I called the next best thing to Frank (and a lot less expensive than a locksmith) – Frank’s sister. She agreed to come over that evening and help. And help she did. Apparently, I bought the wrong door plate, so we went back out to Home Depot, and then we located our drill, a working outlet, and some sort of giant file she used to file down the door. She had some crazy word for it, and told me it was similar to some other crazy tool I never heard of. She worked her butt off, and I couldn’t even offer her food or a drink, because I hadn’t gone food shopping. Only shoes.

By midnight, she had finished, Eva and I had been safely secured, I emailed the dog walker to let her know, and I dropped off poor Carol at home.

And that, my friends, is how you get locked IN your apartment.

How was your weekend?

Awesome! Today my guest post appeared on one of my favorite blogs (with a great name – Rage Against the Minivan)  in a series she calls “What I Want You To Know.”

I write a small piece on some of my thoughts on feeling marginalized as an atheist in America. It was a response to a lot of other posts in the series about faith, and how it’s the only way to heal. I was super nervous to write it, but so far the response has been really positive.

Check it out – What I Want You to Know: Being Atheist in America.

I’m trying to remember to blog more often. I can blame my lack of blogging on a lot of things, but oddly enough – I think the major culprit is my iPhone. Because now, instead of sitting in front of my desktop computer and checking my email, paying bills, browsing Facebook–I do it on my phone, on the couch. Which means I am not typing out a whole big post, and it just happens a lot less. But, since Frank will be gone all of January, the desktop and I may have some more quality time together. Let’s see if I can get back in the habit.

I’ve been really cranky lately and I’m not really feeling super professionally fulfilled which makes me extra cranky. Also, I just re-read my cranky post and realized I haven’t been to the gym since I wrote that …

Right, what I was saying that I’ve been in a funk, but I got some pretty awesome news today. Last week, I entered a blog giveaway for a wedding DJ on Sparkle and Hay (what a great name for a “rustic chic” blog!) . It’s a long shot, sure – but Frank and I have decided we can’t really afford a DJ, and I had reluctantly agreed to iPod the whole thing. Which was kinda of causing me anxiety (yes, already) but – unless we came into a ton of money, we couldn’t justify the expense.

I was catching up on my backlogged Reader and guess what? I saw my name! I WON!

(this totally beats the time I won a year’s supply of awful gum. Which, I still have plenty of. Don’t be surprised if it ends up in bad kids’ Christmas stockings …)

That seriously made my whole week/month. I am getting an awesome, professional DJ for the wedding and all I had to do was be a social media nerd. How freakin’ cool is that? They are generously providing 5 hours of music (and announcements, etc.) for the event, and I just have to figure out ceremony stuff – which should be no big deal.

YAY!

Dear Internet,

I’ve been watching too much TV. Which is funny, because Frank and I have cut out cable and regular TV. We are Hulu Plus and Netflix on the XBOX 360 people now. I’m not totally on board, because I sometimes miss being able to watch live TV, and I’m a day behind watercooler (Facebook) chatter and no one has Suze, forcing me to listen to financial advice on the plane and in gyms on my iPhone. I know, I know – how do I make it through this rough life? Saving about $70 a month cushions the blow.

And, we still magically get NY1, so Pat Kiernan still reads me the paper in the morning. Thank god.

So, what do I watch? It seems like … everything. There just happens to be a lot of great TV on lately, and none of it is “reality tv” thankyouverymuch.

• Parks and Recreation
• Castle
• Bones
• House
• Community
• Terra Nova (which totally is awful, bad TV but we can’t stop watching – stop laughing)
• The Office
• Modern Family
• How I Met Your Mother (although I’m taking a break from this – the dead dad thing is still a little too close to home)
• Daily Show/Colbert

And I can’t wait for the return of 30 Rock, even if I’m giving it side-eye for colluding with Whitney in taking Community out of rotation.

What are you watching?

Frank and I don’t have a ton of music that we both really love, but the Mountain Goats is definitely one of an agreed upon favorite. They are short, often poetic, decidedly lo-fi and I think a great example of relatable storytelling.

Listening to them kind of feels like sitting around a campfire with a really talented friend who is playing the guitar.

Lately, this song has been in my head a lot lately. No particular reason, just kind of haunting.

You Were Cool

This is one of “our” songs – Going to Georgia

And this is a recent favorite of mine – Damn These Vampires

What do you think?

I am in a super cranky mood. No particular reason, and yet a bunch of reasons.

In no particular order, here’s what’s made me cranky this week:

1. My car’s lack of Sirius radio. Hello, first world problems. My sister has been nice enough to let me borrow her car during the week, so that Frank can have ours. But I didn’t borrow it this week, and I had been spoiled by her Sirius radio/Howard Stern. So now I am annoyed whenever I get into my car and don’t have Robin Quivers braying in my ear. And Howard kind of reminds me of my dad, and I really miss my dad. And I tend to miss him more when I am alone, driving in my car – because that’s when I have time to think. And I think about my dad.  And now that I’m writing this, my guess is that it’s less about being cranky about Sirius radio and more being cranky about my dad. But I am too cranky for that level of introspection right now.

2. I went to a somewhat useless conference in Atlanta this week. Somewhat, because there was some team-building there, and I got to hear some interesting presentations and be inspired. But useless because right now, that inspiration just has to get locked into a “maybe later” vault, and I didn’t learn any of the real world applications that I had hoped to learn.

3. My lunches have sucked this week. Whether it was bad conference food, cafeteria food at work (the new guy is an awful wrap maker) or whether I brought it in from home (oh Trader Joe’s mideast feast – you have disappointed me), I love lunch. So I hate when it isn’t delicious.

4. I went to the gym. Okay, this may actually be in the positive column, but I’m always annoyed while I’m at the gym. I hate the stupid elliptical, I hate being bored, I hate being sore and I never quite get that amazing euphoric post-work out high that other gym-goers rave about. I know, there’s a lot I can do to combat my gym hate (i.e. take classes, use the pool, download podcasts) but … it made me cranky this week, so it’s on the list!

5. My family. I can’t go into too much detail, of course – but it just never seems to end. This one isn’t speaking to that one, this one did wrong, that one doesn’t call this one, this one doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, this one is calling the cops on that one… It’s just exhausting. And the specter of everyone getting together at the end of next year for a wedding? Makes everything feel more tense.

6. Some random friends stuff. Weddings just never bring out the best in anyone, do they?  A few weeks ago, a friend didn’t include me in a wedding-related event that surprised me. And I just recently became aware of how hurt I was by it. And I don’t really know how to handle it, except for backing away from her. I have no desire to mend the friendship which was already pretty broken, but has been maintained for political harmony reasons.  But I seem to be doing that a lot lately — backing away. I wonder if that’s contributing to the cranky?

7. The Penn State Scandal. I just can’t wrap my head around people rioting about someone who helped to cover up children being raped. I get it, he’s a folk hero – but … kids were raped. I think that should trump most things. It’s okay to be disappointed and disillusioned, but the level of outrage seems to just be entirely disproportionate. And it makes me think a lot about a book I just read that I really recommend (Hush by Eishes Chayil) and about the community’s responsibility when someone is being hurt. Or bullied. And I think I’m really coming to terms with my own childhood bullying situation (which of course involved the friend in #6). And I’m just sad. And angry.

8. My dog has to go to the vet again. Anyone remember the Expensive Knee Surgery of the Summer? She’s been on painkillers this whole time. We finally weaned her down to zero, except – wean is a misnomer. The poor dog just isn’t walking right, and it’s breaking my heart. So, the vet wants to see her. He has seen her once before, and they couldn’t see anything by visually inspecting her. I don’t know what they expect to see differently tomorrow AM, but I have a bad feeling about more surgeries and expensive x-rays, etc. And I feel awful about being worried about money, because — the poor thing is in pain!

I know, this is getting long. But whenever I bitch about something negative, I try to add in a few positives. So, things that are making me smile?

1. My weekend plans. One is a fun surprise for a friend, and the other is some time with my buddy Jill. She has promised pumpkin-related food items. How could that not make you smile?

2. My friend’s baby. I’ve been trying to spend time with her once a week, and last night was our night together. Ever give a happy, giggling 5-week old a bath? I have! Cutest. Kid. Ever.

It’s Sunday evening, and I’m pretty confident in calling this weekend a success. Life has been hectic lately with the new job and the wedding planning and just … life. This weekend was marked by being one of the last weekends before “Holiday Madness” begins, and I spent a good deal of it sleeping.

As in, I slept until noon (with a brief dogwalking bout of wakefulness on Saturday) until noon, both days. That’s almost unprecedented.

The weekend began on Friday night when we went out to celebrate my friend Rachel’s birthday. She’s had kind of a rough year, so it was nice to get together and do something fun in her honor, and hopefully usher in some more fun times ahead. And we had the perfect ingredients including a bunch of 8, fun, happy girls and a restaurant that specializes in cheese. We went to Artisanal Bistro, which is a place I’ve been hoping to check out for awhile.  This is one of the best nights out I’ve had in a long time, and we really had a great time, and laughed a lot. And that may or may not have anything to do with the fact that we had two pots of fondue (cheese and chocolate), a billion delicious appetizers, some yummy entrees, 4 bottles of wine and six desserts.  I’m pretty sure this place is going to become a regular for my friends for a long time.  My goal is to one day dine in the Cheese Cave.

Saturday, after I woke up from my slumber, Frank and I crossed one of the few errands on my list off (weekly library trip) and had a nice brunch together. Something we haven’t always done, but have been trying to do lately. Mainly because by the time Saturday rolls around there’s no food left in the house to make breakfast. Then, I met up with my sister and we crossed off the other items on my “must do” list (get milk and pick up prescriptions.) I spent some quality time with her, and then headed over to my friend Elana’s house with our friend Michelle to hang out with her and 8-week old Jillian. We drank some more wine, ate cookies and made signs for her husband Michael, to encourage him as he ran in the NYC marathon today (run, Michael run!).

I went home, slept until noon today (see a theme?) and then literally did nothing. I accomplished nothing. I didn’t even read. In fact, I’m not sure what I did from noon until now, except for hang out with Frank, play on the internet and finally watch the season premiere of Bones. (Oh my god, how adorable is Booth? Except no mention of Parker?)

Now I’m headed off to Frank’s parents house for … macaroni and cheese. At some point tonight I’m going to attempt an at-home manicure, pack for tomorrow’s business trip to Atlanta and maybe get some freelance done. But man, oh man – I really needed this weekend of doing nothing except for relaxing. And sleeping. And eating cheese. And apparently drinking a lot of wine.

We’re rolling out a new communications campaign at my new job. Essentially, employees will be able to call in and hear a recorded message from the head exec with news, etc.  On top of all of the promotion and coordination, I’m also in charge of making sure I understand how the recording works and my boss has decided that my cheery voice should be in the placeholder intro teaser to the call.

We were at my desk, discussing logistics and she wanted to run through how it would all work. I explained that I just finished recording the intro message, and she wanted to hear it. Great. I dialed the number and hit speaker. It rings.

“Hi sexy. You’ve called the right number if you’re looking for a great time …”

!!!!!

I panic, I flail, I hit buttons, I practically scream “wrong number! wrong number!” She freaks out that perhaps I’ve printed up all these flyers and made screensavers that give everyone the number to a sex line. We thankfully come to the conclusion that I’ve mis-dialed and we agree that that could not have gone more hilariously wrong.

I’ve been here exactly a month.

Which is sadly a better record than my first job in which I accidentally gave the whole company the impression during my introduction call that I regularly read porn on my way to work.

Okay, I know that it was only a month ago I wrote about how I’m not writing about weddings.  And I haven’t! All month. But I can’t let this one go.

People should have whatever wedding celebration their little hearts desire. Small courthouse wedding, elopement, big destination wedding, campfire ceremony, giant catering hall thing – whatever. I know I certainly have my preferences, but I guess that’s what makes us all special snowflakes.

Weddings are in the media a lot. Bridezillas, celebrity weddings, buying a wedding dress, wedding planning shows, all of that stuff.  The wedding industry is big business, and even the most rational, sensible person runs the chance of falling prey to the Wedding Industrial Complex. And sometimes that’s okay and could even be harmless. Everyone should get to be the center of attention every once in awhile.  There are lines of course. Lines which frequently overstepped and entitlements and princess behavior that is tolerated way past the point it should be.

But I can see how it could happen. From the second you slip that conflict-free, possibly not even a diamond ring on to that finger (or even if you are just in a serious relationship) people ask you about your wedding.

And there are decisions to make. Basic ones like “where should we do this thing?” all the way to how to word your invitations.  And expectations to manage and traditions to honor and … it’s a lot.

And very often weddings become giant events. And regardless of your wedding budget, this wedding will most likely be the largest, most expensive party you ever throw. And you are the guest of honor. And people have … expectations.  And let’s face it, not everyone is cut out to be an event planner and all of a sudden … you are. And you are expected to have opinions on things that you may have never thought of before – like what song should be playing as your friends walk to their seats. Who cares?

But … oh, you do. You see, all of a sudden, even if you aren’t a control freak – you can become mad with the power. Not only are able to have control over tons of details, both big and small – you are expected to! And things can be as detailed as you want them to be. And with all the DIY blogs out there? Not only can you decide your venue, your flowers and your “color palette,”  and what exact color and dress your best friends should wear, you can also decide what color the embossing should be on the hang tags on your escort cards. And there are tons of blogs where other people care too! And they will provide opinions. And options. And “inspiration.” And it’s insane.

I’m not going to lie – I’ve been caught up in it too. When we originally set up a budget (hah!) for this thing, I decided I didn’t really care all that much about invitations and wasn’t going to devote a lot of time or money to it. And then you read these blogs and there are so many cute options! And things you can DIY (did you know that you can actually make your own envelope liners?) And then before you know it, you are pricing out paper goods for something you don’t even care about in the first place. Luckily, I snapped back to reality before dooming myself to an eternity of paper cuts but I must remain ever vigilant about decision/detail creep.

Because no joke? Today I read an actual, legitimate rant from a woman who was furious that despite making it clear to her family that her “accent color” was gold (Seriously – weddings are supposed to have color schemes….) her grandmother is insisting on buying a dress with silver rhinestones and wearing silver earrings. Can you imagine the nerve of Nana? She’s always making it all about her!

This woman is not only concerned with her grandmother’s choice in precious metals, not only annoyed that grandma isn’t listening to her, not only annoyed that she believes she has the right to dictate someone else’s accessory choices, but feels so justified in her insanity that she thinks that this is a perfectly acceptable thing to voice out loud to the internet.

When other people explained to the woman that maybe she has gone a little overboard, she conceded that perhaps she had, but it was just so upsetting because Grandma should know better, because Grandma is trying to force dangly gold earrings on her hostesses (a lesser-status position than her 10 bridesmaids) and Grandma knows that those hostesses only wear studs!

Apparently, this level of obnoxiousness is genetic.

The idea of stepping back and wondering where even the desire to want to dictate what people are wearing? Never really happens. That’s a given, of course. I don’t really get the whole matching bridesmaids thing until everyone started asking me about it. “What are your sisters wearing?” At first I said I didn’t know or care. They’re adults – if they want to coordinate something, that’s cool with me. And the truth is, if I didn’t have two tween sisters who were dying to be bridesmaids, I probably wouldn’t have done any sort of a bridal party. But they are really into it, so of course I had to include my other sister and my future sister-in-law. So, I just told them to pick out something coordinated (a style, color family, whatever) and I’d find something for the younger girls. And then … well, the wedding porn kinda got to me. Look at all the pretty pictures! The matching bouquets! The adorable dresses! And then I realized the appeal – it’s like playing dress up with real, live models. In addition to being the world’s best event planner, I could also be recognized as the world’s most fashionable fashion stylist!

It’s going to be a long year.

It’s been a little hectic around here lately, and this weekend is going to be packed – so when I realized that Frank had plans for tonight and I had none … I have to admit I was excited about having the night and the apartment to myself. I neglected to think past “get home, get in pajamas” and am apparently too lazy to even figure out how to make real food, so I have eaten ramen for dinner.

I caught up on the Hulu shows I won’t make Frank watch/he doesn’t like.

I read a book.

Blogged about the book.

I read through my RSS feeds.

Caught up on my regular internet haunts (Facebook, OffbeatBride, Jezebel, SomethingAwful, NerdNYC).

I’ve taken the dog for her evening constitutional.

I’m at the end of the internet, I’m relaxed, I’m vaguely hungry and not yet sleepy. I love this. I love feeling like I had enough “me” time and now I’m ready for my boyfriend to come home so I can tell him all about my day. And hope he makes me something to eat. (Which means I should probably clean the kitchen.)