Weis

This past summer, in a desperate attempt to get work and after failure everywhere else, I joined a shady marketing company which for the sake of this post I will refer to as "Doublesite." This companies hires what they call "brand ambassadors" for random events in random locations. They pay a month after you work and they pay you via paypal. It's mad shady. But as I said, this summer I was willing to take anything I could get. I got to work an event for a shoe store and I got a free pair of shoes! I did end up getting paid eventually.

Because of the holidays and bills racking up and all, I had decided to start working for Doublesite again. My first event for them since the event I worked last summer was yesterday. The event was for Smuckers at Weis in SC. When I showed up to Weis I expected there to be an event leader to tell me what to do. Well the time comes and goes for the event to have started and I'm still the only one at Weis. I call someone and they tell me it's only me. Well F#%*.

I have no idea what to do. I am clueless. So I decide I'm just gonna make stuff up. I ask for a table and set up the table by the jelly aisle. I buy jam and bread and lay out samples. Now in order to get paid I have to send the company pictures of the event. Of course, I'm at the Weis where the old people shop. Old people don't want to try anything new as this will throw off their life-long routine let alone get their picture taken (they are used to sitting for oil paintings). So I'm having no luck with pictures and have to emergency call friends to show up so I can get their pictures eating jam.

Meanwhile, I somehow seem to attract adorable little old Weis-shopping ladies. I guess they look at me and think "this is the girl to talk to." So I spend an hour of "work" not sampling Smuckers but listening to little old ladies talk to me about their food allergies, bowel movements, pecan pie, post office problems, snow shoveling problems, shellfish vs. regular seafood, etc... One lady game me the address to her house and told me to stop by so she could inform me of how her pie dilemma turned out. Don't get me wrong, I truly loved every minute of this, I'm just trying to point out the humor of the situation.

After I couldn't take it anymore, I left and decided that the event wasn't a complete failure because a) it couldn't even really be categorized as an event and b) I did get a few people to sample the product and they seemed to like it.  I mean it's Smuckers Jelly...not that special.

Tales From Long Island Part 1

So this unfortunate event happened over a year ago, but I haven't been able to bring myself to write about it until now. Mostly, because I know that my extended family would/will judge me for this.

So i'm living on Long Island. It's my first day at work in Manhattan and simultaneously my first day living on Long Island. I manage to find my way walking to the train station in the morning (the station being minutes from home), but on my way home after sunset I become a bit lost.

Before I go into detail about my confusing and frustrating adventure home, let me diverge on my outfit of the day. I'm wearing a tight dress, black leggings and heels (of course.) I am wearing sunglasses, not because it's particularly sunny, but because I am experiencing corneal abrasions causing me to tear up and have extreme aversion to any light whatsoever (let me remind you this is my first day of work, I later find out they think of me as a freak because of the sunglasses that I wore in the office all day, yet did not think to explain.)

Anyway, so I get off the train on L.I. and begin to walk home in what I believe is the right direction; I know for a fact I got off at the right stop. After about a half hour of walking I realize that I'm not walking down the right streets; I'm not recognizing anything. So I go back to where I started and try again. No luck, this time I walk around for about an hour and I cannot for the life of me figure out where I am.

I begin to get frustrated as at this point it is a) about 1am, b) I'm in heels, c) I have corneal abrasions, thus am STILL wearing sunglasses and am in extreme pain. (by the way, corneal abrasions = AVOID AT ALL COSTS, UNBEARABLE PAIN I TELL YOU).

SO I am beginning to lose hope, I'm wandering around aimlessly trying to figure out what to do. Then I think to myself, "aha! Applebees! I saw an Applebees down the way and it's still open!" So I walk to the Applebees and I go inside and ask the entire restaurant if anyone knows where Eastern Avenue is.

Now I know for fact that Eastern Avenue is not far from the Applebees. I'm not sure exactly WHERE it is (obviously), but I assume that a local would know as they are in its very proximity. But alas, no one can help me, no one. There must be 15 people in the Applebees, yet no one has heard of Eastern Avenue. So, I leave, and I continue to walk around aimlessly. The thoughts running through my head consist of things like "I should just lay down here and fall asleep on this random person's lawn and get back on the train in the morning" and "I'm going to die cold, alone, in heels, with a slutty dress on and corneal abrasions" and "Why? Why can't I find where I'm going? I'm gonna die on the streets of Bellmore."

Sidenote: I didn't want to call anyone because I was embarrassed that I got lost when the walk home is was simple. Only I could screw up so bad.

So anyway, I'm walking around aimlessly at 2am when a car pulls up next to me on a random street I was straggling down. The person in the car rolls down their window and says "Hey! I figured out where Eastern Avenue is. I'm the guy from Applebees. Get in the car!" In an act of desperation, I get in the car. Turns out, the guy is a mailman (and on a separate note, how does a mailman not IMMEDIATELY know where a main street is??). Anyway, this "mailman" drives me home. I tend to my corneal abrasions and my faith in humanity is temporarily restored.

The next day I am telling the guys at work about my unfortunate adventure and their response is "ohh the guy from Applebees, ok, if it was TGI Friday's never mind, but he was from Applebees, that's safe."

Everyone's Drunk, Oh Wait, It's State College

I am innocently trudging my way to the football game this afternoon when I run into a pair of drunk guys on High Street. "You came out of the blue!" the one says to me. "um...what?" is my response. (Read the rest as: drunk guy, then my response.) "Haha its cuz you're wearing a blue shirt get it?" "Uh..." "Hey! You're wearing a shark tooth for a necklace." "No, it's not a shark tooth, its the rope from clue." "What?" "Clue, the game." "Blues Clues?" "No, no, Clue. You know, "Professor Plum with the knife in the library." "Oh I get it the game where you put your fingers on the triangle thing and summon ghosts!" "No, that's a Ouija board." "Your shark necklace is from a Ouija board?" "No, it's from clue." " Yeah Blues Clues." "Ok sure, fine, whatever."

Minutes later on East College a guy on a drunken rampage throws two unopened Gatorades onto the sidewalk and then runs away as if he just threw down a grenade or something. Free Gatorade for me!

Just about then is when I overhear this conversation. Guy has arm around short girl (a little shorter than me if that gives you a good visual). "Hey!" the guy yells to another guy. "Hey! I'm gonna make out with this girl." "Why the hell are you conversing with a person that short?" Is the response. ?????

That's when I pass by a guy who has decided I'm the perfect girl to play tin can soccer with. He kicks the can to me and then runs to an imaginary goal as if I'm just going to stop whatever I'm doing to play a game of tin can soccer. Ok?

But my favorite by far is when, moments later, I accidentally make eye contact with a random guy for two seconds thus prompting him to point at me, smile, and go "you!" Yes, me.

Return of the Zombie Bunnies

When I was a kid I had two pet bunnies, Hester and Woody. My mother hated these bunnies. She hated them so much that she decided to manipulate my sister and I into getting rid of them. You see, all our lives we begged and begged for a dog. This longing for a furry four-legged friend is what my mother realized was her ticket to bribe us into getting rid of the bunnies. "If you get rid of the bunnies" she told us, "I'll get you a dog." I, the older sibling and true desirer of the dog, was put to the task of finding a new home for the bunnies. I asked all of my friends at school if they wanted bunnies including an asian friend whose parents owned a Chinese Food restaurant. Said asian friend said she would take the bunnies. I gave them to her and didn't think another thing about it. A few weeks later, I went to visit the bunnies at her house when she told me they had mysteriously "hopped away." Hopped away?  I was really sad.  I worried about my bunnies lost in the wilderness.  It was only upon reflection years later that I realized, they ate them. They ate my bunnies for dinner, possibly even served them as food in their restaurant. Damn my naivety towards asian culture.  I've yet to forgive myself.


For my 22nd birthday this year I went to a bar in Danbury called Maxwell's and I drank and drank and drank to the point where the rest of this story had to be relayed to me the next morning. My asian friend from my childhood, the one to whom I gave my bunnies, was at the bar that night. In my drunken state I was prompted by this reunion to go up to her and yell at her about how she killed and ate my bunnies. I do not recall her response to this, all I know is for the next half hour I ran around the bar telling anyone who would listen that Debbie killed my bunnies. Debbie if you ever read this, I'm sorry.

The Alphacaust

Alright, so a few weeks ago I am hanging out with Drea and Matt. Matt is learning how to play the piano and is taking piano lessons. At the moment he is playing the alphabet in minor to which Drea comments "this is depressing" and I say "That's a sad sad alphabet."

A few weeks go by and I see Matt. I ask him if he has learned to play any more alphabets. He says yes he has learned to play the German alphabet.

Today I am hanging out with Drea and Matt again. I have to leave to go to Widow Browns for open mic night. Drea asks how open mic night is. I say its ok and then suggest that Matt play piano at open mic night. "You could play a sad german alphabet!" I say. "An Alphacaust." says Drea.

LOST in Cape Cod

Oh my god. So I go to this restaurant with my father and sister. A few tables away I notice this bald guy with a goatee. He looks EXACTLY like the guy from Lost, so much so that I convince myself he is and kind of make a scene about it. I keep going "That's the guy from Lost. No I mean it. That's really him. I don't care, I'm just saying that's really the guy from Lost." My dad keeps telling me that he doesn't watch Lost (neither do I) but he knows who I'm talking about and it's not him. But I am so sure that it is. So my Dad says "well look at a picture then, it's not him."

So I google it on my phone 'bald guy from Lost' and the name John Locke comes up and I realize that's the character's name on the show. And ok, it turns out it wasn't him. But my apology is not enough for my father who keeps yelling "John! John!! JOHN!!!! See?? He's not responding, it's not him. Why don't you go over to him and ask to see his license?" This suggestion does not surprise me as it reminds me of another embarrassing incident involving my father and in this case a real celebrity.**

So now he keeps looking at us because I keep looking at him and my father keeps screaming "John!" in his direction. I am mortified.

**We are in Cape May at a popular restaurant when I see none other than Joe and Sue Paterno. Now, my father is the biggest JoPa fan of all time; "I've been a fan since 1968!" he continually tells me. So I tell my Dad it's JoPa and he's so excited and we introduce ourselves and shake his hand and everything. Well, not everything. We didn't get a picture. A fact that has haunted me for going on four years and will continue to haunt me for the rest of my life. You see, we forgot to ask for his picture at the bar and my father realized this when both The Paternos and ourselves were already seated at our respective tables. So all during dinner my father keeps saying "Lets just go up to his table and get a picture. Lets follow him out of the restaurant after they are done eating, we can get a picture then." On and on. Well, will didn't get a picture and so as far as my father is concerned we never even met JoPa. "No one will believe me when I tell them! We shoulda gotten a picture!!" Every single time I bring up the fact that we met his life-long hero to him, he says "we should have gotten a picture, I'm so mad we didn't get a picture." But I wasn't willing to stalk JoPa and follow him out or a restaurant for a photo, though for all the nagging, I probably should have, it would have made life easier.  I'm going to suffer the consequences forever.

Shenanigans

Play Idea: "Shenanigans" starring Katie Carriero and Jen Stearns. Each scene ends in Jen and Katie discussing the events going on around them and how it was a failure. "Shenanigans" they say to each other. And it proceeds to the next scene where other events happen in a continuous stream. Last scene: Katie = trying to get with a guy at a party they are throwing. Jen = trying to get with a girl at a party they are throwing. At the end of the party the four are left and the guy and girl end up hooking up while Jen and Katie end up on the couch discussing the events: "Shenanigans" they say.