That's The Way The Cookie Crumbles...

....or in my case this weekend, that's the way the Nutella Brownie crumbles!

Some times I even amaze myself with how I have gotten this far in life. The stupid, ridiculous, laughable, arguably unreal, irritating, and non-sensical things happen to me in abundance. I feel like Mr. Magoo, always one step ahead of the anvil dropping on me and being completely oblivious of it all. I imagine some look at me and think that the only thing going through my brain must be "ba-ba-badadum! manoma-na! ba-ba-badadum! manoma-na!" (Okay, and maybe, just maybe at times that might be the case.) This weekend was kinda heavy in the idiotic moments. However, I would like to make a defense in my case and say that it is not ALL my own doing.

Since moving to the craziness that is this city, I have become very unfamiliar with the, dare I say, "finer things in life". To do any task is complicated 10 times over in New York. Take for example doing the simple task of going to the grocery store. Hard. Have to walk however many blocks to get there, then you have to cram yourself through the tiny aisles, and try to decipher the un-organization. You also have to take into consideration, "if I buy this ice cream, will it melt by the time I get back home, it is 104 out today...." Then you have to triple bag everything (that is if you don't use reusable bags) and try to evenly disperse all the bags for your trek back home. Then you get to your door, and have to fumble for the keys, you open the door only to have it jammed with all the mail underneath, then you walk the 4 flights up to the sauna that is your apartment, and collapse on your kitchen floor, not longer having the energy or desire to cook. See? Hard. But somehow we choose to live here. I know, right?!? It amazes me too. And even sadder is after awhile you start to forget that there is an easier way. The memories of you pulling into a Kroger parking lot and taking your time in the store without 8 people breathing down your neck to get where you are, and pulling into your driveway and your brother coming out and getting the groceries....all that starts to get fuzzy. But this weekend, ah! this weekend. How I lived in the lap of luxury! (Did I even use that expression right? Wait...is that even an expression?)

My good ole pal Vaydre entrusted the well being of her beloved dog, and by extension, her amazing apartment into my care for the weekend. She must have a lot of faith:) Her place is NICE. It is so nice that I manage to make myself look like a complete fool numerous times over. Starting with I could not figure how to lock the door. No laughter, please. It turns out that it is one of those fancy doors that are always locked on the outside. 15 minutes later I found that out. Then, it has been almost 2 years since I have used a dishwasher, again it took a few trial and errors to get that machine up and running. Let's not even talk about the DVD player, I am still very upset by that! Do you remember the good ole day when you just put the TV on channel 3 and the DVD player would work? What happened? Why do you suddenly need to know algorithms to watch True Grit?

They also have the world's most comfortable mattress ever! The bad thing was that I have not realized just how bad my crappy little mattress that I have been attempting to sleep on these past months has been. Then I entered in this unbelievable, dream inducing, melt every stress away you have ever had-mattress and thought I could die! I had so much to do this weekend and I didn't accomplish half of it because I could not peel myself off that mattress. I felt drugged. Even my eyes were heavy with longing for the ultra soft cloud that is the best mattress ever! If I could, I would marry that thing! And I would be the happiest girl in the whole wide world! She fell in love with a mattress.....and lived happily ever after:0)

The building is so nice that they even have a doorman! This helped me realize that I have no doorman etiquette whatsoever! Are you supposed to make conversation every time you pass them? You know like "small talk", oh brother, I am awful at small talk...."hey....there....how's it going? So your a doorman huh? Do you like that job? Is it what you always wanted to be? So how bout them Mets?" It is painful. What worse is when you know they are trying not to laugh at you when you can't figure out how to open the fancy doors, and when both you and the dog get trapped in the scary revolving door and sheer and utter panic is all over your face. Or when you run into a chair in the lobby and fall over it, and make this super loud thud, and he just looks over his desk and says it disbelief "are you okay?!?" And you have to jump up and act like nothing is wrong and that you totally meant to check yourself on the chair and come crashing down everything in a 5 feet radius of you. Yep, totally meant to! Also, I felt like they were judging me. Because they know you are home. It's not like you could slip out the back door without their notice! Yes, I did sleep in that late sir. And yes, I did stay inside almost all day. What is it any of your business that I watched Wall Street 2 twice this morning, and ate almost half of the brownies I baked, and took a little nap on the equally comfortable couch? But instead when I finally did make my way out, I felt like I needed to explain myself. "I am working.....on a project....for the.......government...and it is super secret.....and requires me to seem lazy......but it is just a front......as I am a....secret agent, yea a secret agent.....so if you don't have any more questions, this secret agent needs to pick up another brownie mix!...for her super secret project..for the government!" Someone should write a book on how to interact with the doorman, and call it, The Guide To Opening Doors and People: How To Have An Un-Awkward Relationship With Your Doorman. I would read that, and make notes in the margin!

Next and finally, and this one amazed me too, I got locked out on their balcony. Well Riley (dog), Kia (friend), and I, stuck on the balcony. And here is the kicker, neither Kia or myself had a phone! What are the odds of that? I still have no idea how we got locked out! And NO ONE was on their balconies that we could call to help. We had to wait until someone was out front of the building and we started shouting. Well correction, Kia started shouting as I was too busy laughing. "HHHEEEYYYYY!!!! UP HERE! WE ARE LOCKED OUT! CAN YOU TELL THE DOORMAN!!!!" Then 15 minutes later and shouting back and forth to the doorman about not knowing what apartment number I was in, one of the maintenance people came in, shook his head, unlocked the door and walked out. I think even Riley was embarrassed. Poor pup! But the silver lining, I guess I can cross off Get Locked Out On a Roof/Balcony from my NY Bucket List!

I am back to my regular, complicated, overly stress, no frills life. Where sadly I have grown accustomed. It is so non exciting. I wanna life that Jay-Z would write a song about! HHHMmmmmmmm, the ideas are flowing.......