Your Girlfriend is Ugly

Notes from the Path train

Now that I live in Hoboken and commute into Manhattan twice a week I've become a slave to public transportation. I even take (gasp) the bus sometimes. I'm no stranger to using the NYC subway it's just that I haven't had to do it in a while and living in Boston and the 'burbs of Boston you drive everywhere.

So the Path trainhas become my new best friend. I honestly don't know why everyone hems and haws about living in Hoboken. My commute to work is 40 minutes door to door. Even when the trains are packed and you're standing in someone's armpit I still get to 57th and Madison in exactly 40 minutes. Take THAT B line! (If you're from Boston you totally get that reference.)

The one thing I will never understand though is people who stand right in front of the doors. For example this morning I get off the 126 bus and make my way down to the train. It was already brimming with people. I selected the car I wanted to ride in and noticed that there was a girl standing with her back to the open door.

"Excuse me."

Naturally she was wearing an iPod.

"EXCUSE ME!"

She shimmied over a little and I took my place next to her but away from the door.

About three minutes went by and people kept filing into this car. Everyone had to say excuse me to this dumb bitch standing in the door way. And every time someone say excuse me she's huff, give a sideways glance and move a little to allow them in, but then she'd go right back to standing in front of the door.

Ok fine. You want to stand in front of the door whatever. I could give a shit. But don't be a bitch about it! Don't huff at the fat guy with the backpack who is trying to make the train just because you have some weird need to stand in front of the Path door.

I was telling LK about this and she explained that the same thing happens on the F train. Apparently there is a stop where everyone gets out to connect to the A train and the train basically empties out but there is always one person standing in front of the doors who will not move.

Is it like a sense of entitlement thing? Are people just being bad-asses?

Why do I care?

Donde estan mis pantelones?

In case you hadn't heard I moved to the tri-state area. My company relocated me so I'm living in Hoboken which is awesome (and also where they hide all of the hot men) and working out of our office in the Jersey suburbs as well as the office in Manhattan. Here's the thing; when I was working in the office in Boston it was super casual. I'm talking like wife beaters and lululemon yoga pants to work. Now it's all business casual. This includes no jeans.

Even on Fridays. I have two dresser drawers filled with jeans so you can imagine how annoying this is.

My dilemma is that I don't own any dress pants. Iiiiiiiiiiiiiii know! Like dress pants to me are a foreign concept. Plenty of dresses sure? cute little baby doll tops to wear with leggins? You got it. But no dress pants. And with the weather being so craptastic and rainy lately getting dressed in the morning causes me to have severe agida.

Thus far I've spent about $500 shopping online for pants. I could save myself the returning headache and just go to a mall to shop but 1.) I'm new to the area and have no idea where anything is and 2.) I'm so paranoid about driving when I don't have to because finding parking in my neighborhood blows (see this blogto read all about it.) At present time I loathe all of the pants I've received from J.Crew.com, Anntaylorloft.com and Gap.com.

So what am I doing? Wearing a pair of former fat pants from the Gap. These were purchased long before I joined Weight Watchers and lost 35 pounds. Right now they are falling off me. Plus it makes me look like I have an extra stomach because the waist has stretched out and causing the illusion of a paunch.

I am a mess. And I need pants.

Don't try to be lawless in Hoboken. It will cost you $80.

I'm now three weeks into my new life in the tri-state area. So far so good! My apartment is all set up, pictures are hung up on the wall and I even have the recycling schedule committed to memory...even though I haven't been recycling. Bad Lisa Bad!!!

The only downside to Hoboken is the parking. Parking blows the big one. And not yet having a resident sticker makes it even more difficult.

See, when I lived in South Boston (Southie for you locals) you could park in a cross-walk and the most you'd get is a $10 ticket. Totally worth it! But here in Hoboken forget it! From the end of the sidewalk to about two car lengths in is a yellow line. And if you park anywhere near that yellow line your ass is booted, towed and ticketed. It's so unreal!

I was at dinner with one of my co-workers who lives in the neighborhood and I was telling her how stressed out I was about parking. She explained to me how she used to be very nervous about parking as well but after a while she would park her car in the yellow line and she noticed that as long as she left for work early she never got a ticket.

So, last Thursday I'm driving around and driving around and ready to rip my blond hair out because there is not a single spot to park! It was one of those times where everyone in front of me was finding a parking spot except me. I was on the verge of tears when I saw half of a parking spot, the other half was in the yellow line.

"Fuck it."

I had a dentist appointment the next morning at 8am. I figured I'd be done by 8:30 and would be able to just scurry out of the illegal spot unscathed.

Fast forward the next morning.

The Scene: Hoboken, NJ. Cold, cloudy and raining like a mofo.

Lisa in the dentist chair, looking dreamily at her new dentist as he pokes and prods in her mouth.

The outfit: Lisa wearing a dress with footless leggins and rubber flip flops with no traction (this information comes in handy at the end of the story)

Now guys. Let's talk about my new dentist. He was hot. Like hotter than hot. Like he was hot like the fire that consumes other fire. He could've put his entire fist in my mouth to check for cavities and I would've been OK with it.

The only thing is that he talked. A. LOT. And he was so dreamy that when I finally exited the dentist office I didn't realize how late it was. I glanced down at my Fauxlex and saw that it was 9:30.

"Shit."

With the rain coming from every which way and my flip flops offering no support I made a mad dash for Clinton and 12th street.

"It's gonna be there! It's gonna be there! It's gonna be there," I chanted to myself as I passed the Fresh Picked Deli.

"Lisa. Who are you kidding. You parked illegally and you have Mass plates. Your car is so towed," said my other self.

"SHUT UP!"

I came to the corner where I distinctly remember parking the night before and there was no Suzi.

"Fuck."

I dialed the Hoboken Police station and said that this was not an emergency but I think my car got towed.

"What kinda car is it sweetie?"

"Jetta. White. Mass plates."

"Yeah we got it. You need to go to the Tow place on Jefferson and 16th."

"Ok. Thanks."

I did not have the number for a cab, I was wearing flip flops and it was down pouring. Naturally I walked to Jefferson and 16th which was about a 10 minute walk away. Thank God I had my white umbrella with multi-colored polka dots so shield me from the horrific weather.

I finally arrived.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi. That's my car," I pointed to Suzi.

"Ok. Do you have your release form?"

"My who and what now?"

"Your release form."

"I'm from Boston.....?"

"Ok. Go to that window and talk to Ronnie."

Ronnie was a tall and slender man who looked kind of like Clint Eastwood, but less squinty.

"Hi. I need to get my car."

"Do you have your release form?"

"No."

"Ok. You need to take your registration, insurance card, and license and go to the Police Station so they can release your car."

"Ooooohkaaaay. Do you have a number for a cab since I can't actually drive to the police station?"

"Here. Come with me."

I followed Ronnie back to the front where all of the cars were chilling. There scrawled on the wall was a 201 phone number for a Hoboken car service.

"Wait, Ronnie. You said I need an insurance card?"

"Yeah."

"Ok well I moved here two weeks ago from Boston and they don't give out insurance cards in Massachusetts."

Ronnie stroked his 5 o'clock shadow. "Hmmm...well you need that in New Jersey to get your car back...hmmm..."

I looked at him with the doe-iest of eyes I could muster.

"Ok. When you get to the police station ask for Officer Bobby Castellano. I'll give him a call to let him know you're on your way."

"Officer Castellano."

"Yeah."

Ten minutes later the car service dropped me off at the station. Now, let me tell you something readers. Those Hoboken cops are HOT. Like I walked in and thought I was at a model casting. This one guy walked by me with those tight cop pants tucked into the high boots and he was bald and had a huge tattoo with the name ALVEREZ on his bicep. I was like "CUFF ME NOW!"

I must've been standing in the middle of the hallway for a while checking out the fine cop ass that was surrounding me because finally an officer asked me if I needed help.

"Oh. Yes I'm uh looking for Officer Castellano...?"

"Sure. He's right in there."

I walked into a room that was marked "Autos" and stood in line behind a guy who was getting finger printed. Jesus! Do they finger print you here too if your car gets towed? They are no joke!

The man identified as Officer Castellano walked over to me and asked if I needed help.

"Hi. I was sent over by Ronnie...?"

Bobby gave me a nod and asked in a loud voice if I had my registration and insurance card.

"I uh moved here from Boston two weeks ago. They don't do insurance cards in Mass."

He gave a curt nod and walked over to a clerk who filled out my paperwork in 2 minutes. The nice lady then walked over to me, told me to be mindful of the signs and handed me my release form for my car.

I then called a cab to take me BACK to the tow place so I could get my car. Upon entering the tow place a guy who looked liked he belonged on Deadliest Catch greeted me with a nod and a wink.

"Can I help ya?"

"Yes. Hi. I'm here to get my car back."

"Got ya release form?"

"I do."

"Ok. Follow me."

I followed Deadliest Catch guy to the little window.

"How much is this going to cost me?"

"$80."

"And you guys take cards?"

"Yup."

Well this was an improvement at least from when I'd get my car towed in Boston. There it was $110 and CASH ONLY.

I paid the guy, got my receipt and said, "I hope to never see you again."

He gave a hearty laugh and said, "Well at least not here." Then he winked at me.

WELCOME TO HOBOKEN!

In these hard times you can't afford to be a bitch. Especially if you work on commission.

A few days ago I was shopping in Boston's Copley Squarewhen I decided to head into Neiman Marcus

I was browsing some of the high end makeup and skincare lines; Chantecaille, Darphin, La Prairie, when I decided to head over to fragrance to see what was new.

I had heard about the new Valentino fragrance and how beautiful the bottle was but I wanted to see for myself. True to all of the hype is really is a beautifully crafted package and the fragrance is divine. I sprayed some on myself and then took in the gorgeous floral scent.

"Can I help yeeeeeeew?" I looked up and a very well coiffed sales lady was peering at me.

"Oh no thank you. I'm just looking."

I took a few more peaks at what was new. I wasn't that taken with the new Gucci fragrance but I was absolutely loving the David Yurman EDP. The sales lady stared me down, which I can't stand. Peering at me over your Chanel glasses is not going to make me want to spend money.

Just then I received a phone call and went outside to take it. As I was hanging up, I happened to catch a waft of myself. It was the Valentino perfume. It had sat on my skin for a while and the dry down was absolutely amazing.

My 'I NEED THAT' instincts kicked in and I raced for the escalator. But before I stepped foot back into the store I stopped and talked myself off of the ledge.

"Lisa, you need to stop. You used to be so impulsive with purchases and it got you into a lot of trouble financially. I know you love this fragrance now and maybe you will love it tomorrow too. But get a sample of it first and try it out. That way you'll know that you really REALLY love and then maybe after you've lived with it for a little while you can come back and get it."

"But, self, I want it now!"

"Lisa..."

"Ok."

I walked back over to the fragrance counter and Chanel Glasses lady had a friend with her, a fellow sales associate. I smiled at Chanel Glasses.

"Hi."

"Hi. How can I help yeeeeeeeeeeeeew?"

"Well, I sprayed the Valentino on me and I love it. It's so amazing."

"Mmmmmm...iiiiiiiisn't it?" That was the other sales associate. She was staring me up and down. Her gaze stopped on my Old Navy jeans and then made their way up my body to my LL Bean rain coat.

I focused my attention on Chanel Glasses. "Do you have any samples of it? I'd like to try it before I commit."

"I don't think we do but let me double check."

"We don't," said the other woman curtly.

What a beast!

Chanel Glasses actually opened a few drawers before confirming what the other associate had already stated.

"Maybe you can put it on your Christmas list and someone can buy it for you."

What is what I hate about big name department stores?! They assume if you're not decked out in Tory Burch that you don't have the cash. Did they not see Pretty Woman?! Don't assume anything.

I turned to the beastly woman and said, "First of all, I'm Jewish so I don't have a Christmas list (I'm not Jewish) and second of all, I can buy it myself I just wanted a sample to make sure I wouldn't hate it."

I left the two woman standing there with their mouths agape and hustled out of the store as fast as my Nine West flats could take me!

Overheard in the 'burbs: Easter Weekend Edition

Friday: "But I gave birth to you for Christ's sake!"

On Friday evening around 7:50pm I walked into the family room where my parents were to alert The Donna that we should probably saddle up and hit the road to go pick up my sister Shana who was arriving at Rt. 128 station from New York.

My dad was watching some sort of program on the History Channel and The Donna was sitting on the couch snapping the ends off of 78 pounds of raw green beans. In between beheading the beans she was popping jelly beans into her mouth. Earlier that day I was putzing around CVS and decided to buy my mom some of her favorite candy.

"Mum we should probably get going."

"Leeeee-SAH these jelly beans suck."

"Um. Sorry...?"

"No thea wicked hahd."

I grabbed one and chewed on it. No unusual consistency to be found.

"Mum they're fine. If you want something soft to chew on eat one of these." I chucked the Swedish Fish bag at her and gestured that we needed to make a move.

"No Leee-SAH seriously. Hea..."

I then watched as my mother removed the half masticated jelly bean from her mouth and waved it in my face.

"Hea try this."

"I am NOT eating that!"

"Fa God's sake I gave birth to you!"

"And.."

"Hea eat it. Tell me it's not wicked hahd."

"Mum get outta here! Would you eat the jelly bean in my mouth???" I grabbed the half eaten green one and pressed it between my fingers.

To my surprise The Donna went for it!

"MUM!!! GROSS!!!" I shoved the bean back in my mouth. "Can we go please."

"Fine. But I don't know what you're freaking out about. I gave birth to you."

"Yes you said that. Come on we're going to be late."

Sunday afternoon: "I only like Wheel of Fortune."

For Easter we had my cousin Pam and Charles over with two of their three boys, Ben and Matt and my dad's older sister Aunt Nancy.

We were all sitting around the table drinking coffee and having pound cake when Pam (who is no stranger to my tales of waxing) asked what we all did last night

"Shana and I just hung out and watched a movie."

"Yeah," my dad grumbled, "Donna and I watched a movie too. Slumdog Millionaire. It SUCKED."

"Dad! How can you say that? It was soooo good! And it won like every award so at the very least you can appreciate it."

"I haven't seen it yet," said Pam.

"It flashes back a lot and Donna and I were just kind of confused."

"You have to pay attention," I explained to him. "Maybe you should watch it again."

"No. Oooooooh no."

"I don't think it was the right movie for mom and dad," said my sister. (What would be the right movie for my parents??)

My dad continued, "Plus it was about a game show. And I hate game shows."

"It was not about a game show dad."

"Well it sort of was. I'm not big on game shows. I mean I like a good episode of Wheel of Fortune but that's about it"

Sunday late afternoon before dinner: And the brutality just keeps on comin'

There are a handful of topics that are off limits for discussion during family functions. Two of the main ones are politics and the Massachusetts school system. My mother is very active in my towns school committee and talking about it boils her blood. And she has high blood-pressure. So we put these restrictions in place to keep The Donna alive.

Well somewhere in between the cheese ball and the Mets game the topic of schools came up. Pam is a math teacher in Mass so she and my mom were talking. Then I hear Pam tell my mom that they are going to start putting the BMI of kids on their report cards.

"Ah you serious Pam?" said The Donna.

"Yup. Now the school is responsible if your kid is fat," replied Pam.

My Aunt Nancy then turned to me and said, "Lisa you must be glad you're not in school any more huh?"

When the left I took my sister to the train, came home and immediately did my Tank Top Arms and Boy Short Bottom work out DVD.

How did you spend your Easter evening?

* * *

When's the next holiday?

My worst nightmare.

This past weekend I spent time at our Cape house with my family relaxing, eating great food and doing some major shopping damage. My sister was home for the weekend so it was a nice opportunity to recharge our batteries.

On Saturday evening we went to our favorite restaurant in Osterville called Wimpy's. It's family owned and we've been going there for years. Plus we've become good friends with two of the waitresses Catherine and Tricia.

That particular evening  we were lucky enough to have Catherine as our server. She's Irish and can take a joke. Plus she always makes sure there's a nice big healthy pour in my wine glass.

Three-quarters of the way through the meal and three rounds of drinks in, a family seated a few tables down started to sing. I spotted four children; three girls and a boy. One of the girls was of toddler looking age. She had a pacifier in her mouth and didn't look like she could pee in the bathroom yet. That's a toddler right? Anyway this supposed toddler was having a hissy fit so the family was serenading "The Wheels On The Bus" to her.

This is my worst nightmare come to life. I don't like children. They make me nervous and they are dirty and they are so chatty. Like Jesus! The sky is just blue OK?!

Right in the middle of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" Catherine came over to see how we were doing.

I gestured my head towards the singing family and said to her, "Think they'll sing us a song?"

"Well let's see about that." And off Catherine went...to the table where the singing family was seated. To ask them if they'd sing to us.

You've got to be kidding me.

I heard her say, "That nice lady right there wants to hear a song from you." Catherine was talking to the little boy who had chocolate caked on his face and her finger was aimed right at me.

Oh God.

After some hemming and hawing the mother wrangled her brood and brought them over to where we were sitting.

I was horrified.

"Ok guys. Ya ready???"

I glanced at my phone. It was 8:15. Shouldn't children be in bed by now? Not out singing to strangers?! 

"The Wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round. The Wheels on the bus go round and round. All through town. The windows on the bus go up and down, up and down, up and down. The windows on the bus go up and down all though towwwwwn."

Ok fine it was cute. I decided to give them a standing O "YAAAAAAAAAY! Oh how wonder-"

"The driver on the bus goes sit right down. Sit right down. Sit right down. The driver on the bus..."

"....ful...UGH!!!!"

"....goes sit right down. Aaaaaal throooooooooough tooooooooooooooooooooown."

CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP. "Great job you guys!"

"The mother on the bus shoes shhh shhh shhhh, shhh shhh shhh...."

You've. Got. To. Be. Shitting. Me. Who else is on this Gdamn bus!!!??? If there is a field trip on this bus I'm killing myself with this butter knife.

"....The mother on the bus goes shhh shh shhhh alll through tooooooooown."

I held my breath, pleading to the baby Jesus that there would be no more verses of The Wheels on the Bus. He answered my prayers. But then we had to clap and catch the air kisses given to us by the little toddler child.

If Jack Bauer ever needs to resort to extreme torture to get information out of someone I recommend The Wheels on the Bus.  

Just your regular run of the mill classy commute

This morning I was tooling down 95 North on my way to the office. I was just passing Exit 11 in Norwood when I nearly rear-ended the guy in front of me because he was doing 55 in the left lane.

Not. Cool.

Naturally I had to pass him so I eased into the middle lane, only a woman in a fluorescent yellow car was keeping pace with the 55 MPH left hand lane dude.

ARGH!

I stayed in the middle lane until a gap wide enough opened up so I could slide Suzi back into the left lane and continue on my way.

As I passed the yellow car which I could now identify as a Chevrolet Monte Carlo, I noticed that the driver was giving me the finger.

I made a face at her and then said out loud, "SERIOUSLY???"

Who gives the finger on a Wednesday morning? When it's sunny? And furthermore, she was driving a car that looked like this:

If anything I should be flipping her off!

Keeping up with Lee-SAH

Saturday night during dinner, The Donna and I got into a little fight. Everything ended up being fine thanks to the Kardashians.  

"You're not letting me say what I want to say Lee-SAH. Have you seen that show Keeping up with the Kahdashians?"

"What?! Yes."  

"Well you haven't seen this episode."

"Mom yes I have it's the newest one. The season premier."

"Well I don't think you've seen it."

"The one where Khloe goes to jail??"

"Yeah."

"Yes I've seen it!"

Mind you, in the middle of an argument we are having a sub-argument about which episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians is the most recent.

"And anyway mom, when are you watching Keeping up with the Kardashians?!?"

"When I was down visiting ya brotha. They had it on TV."

.........

Donna continued. "Anyway during that episode Kim tells the two otha sistas to be nice to their motha and not be so mean to her and the motha tells the girls that she's allowed to have an opinion and have feelings."

"Are you comparing me to Khloe Kardashian?"

"No. But let me tell ya, she's a bitch that Khloe! If she were my daughta I'd knock her into next week."

I'm so glad that E! Entertainment, Ryan Seacrest and most of all the Kardashian family along with Bruce Jenner can mend fences between me and The Donna.

The Hazzards of Spanx.

Sometimes wearing a pair of Spanx can do more harm than good. Ladies holler back if you feel me on this. I mean right?!

Check out my blog on These Lips Are Made For Glossin' and read all about the dreaded Spanx line!

Click here.

It's too early for this...

I realized last night that by thinking I could get up at 4:30 to make the 6am train back to Boston was WAY too ambitious so I confirmed with my boss that it was OK to take the 8am back instead and booked a ticket.

So this morning I haul my tired ass to Penn Station and made my way on the Acela. I immediately secured a seat facing the direction of the train (I get motion sickness very easily and going backwards makes me want to curl up into a ball and hurl). Mind you, I have not had coffee yet. I am doing this new thing where I try to see if I can go the morning without coffee. Usually I can make it until about 10:30. But today I was dying.

After laying out all of my stuff across two seats so no one would try and sit with me, I made my way to the Cafe Car. The Cafe Car doesn't open until the train starts moving but I didn't care. Apparently the guy working behind the counter did because he was passed out on the counter. I'm taking head down, passed out.

"Um....he-hello...."

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZzzzzzZzzzzzz

"HellooooOOO."

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZzzzzzzzzzzz

"HI! HELLO!"

He lifted his head up slowly and stared at me through half-lidded eyes.

"Do you have iced coffee?"

"No. No iced coffee."

"Ok. I'll take a regulah hot coffee. No sugah." (My Boston accent goes into over drive when I'm tired.)

Rip Van Winkle then rose from his stool and leisurely secured my coffee.

"Is that it?"

I glanced over to the muffins.

"What kinda muffins ah those?"

"Blueberry."

"That's all you have? Just blueberry?" I'm not a fan of blueberry.

Rip gave me the Care Bear Stare. In fact, he was so still that I thought he'd fallen with his eyes open.

"Yes. Blueberry is the only flavor we have."

"Meh. Ok just the coffee."

After my receipt printed out (I charged $2 coffee) Rip threw it on the counter and went back to passing out.

I'm sure he enjoyed our exchange as much as I did.