Where Do We Go From Here?

Six months ago, we packed up our lives1 in Colorado to move back to New York City. But maybe that old saying about how you can’t go home again is true, because in eight days, we’re packing it in (er, up) and heading for greener (er, snowier) pastures.

End of the World

NYC to Us: “Why You Want To Leave Me?”

Okay, you know that guy that in high school who’s like the hottest guy ever and when he looks at you your insides start turning inside out? And one day when he smiles at you and says hi and actually uses your name instead of just doing that stupid what-up man-nod that boys always do when they’re around their friends your whole heart is about to explode right out of your chest? And then one day you find yourself innocently making out with him behind the school and you don’t even care that everyone is watching, or that in one day this guy knows more about your undergarments than the sales girl at Vicky’s?

But then you stop kissing long enough to get to know him and it turns out he’s about as dumb as a box of hair and he’s mean to his little sister and he kicks puppies in his spare time and also, he hits on your best friend? But he’s still really really hot and he brings you a rose and a little white bear on Valentine’s Day and you kind of forget about the best friend thing until naked pictures of her show up on his MySpace page, and even then you kind of laugh it off because he’s still really really hot and the other night in the Taco Bell parking lot you were shivering so he gave you his favorite black hoodie that you sleep with now because it still smells like him, even though the whole school is talking about those MySpace pics?

Yeah, that guy.

Anyway, that’s kind of why we’re moving. Not that NYC kicks puppies or anything, I’m just saying. Home is not what it once was for me – for many reasons. Did you get that from my clever (albeit quite-a-stretch) analogy?


Where To?

In 8 days, Alex and I are wandering up to Buffalo. Before you say anything, let me assure you that any rumors you’ve heard about Buffalo are probably true, but feel free to ask if you have any questions or curiosities. We’re excited to spend some quality time up there, especially since we work from home and therefore don’t have to shovel snow. Our neighborhood has everything we could ask for — a farmer’s market, an independent bookstore, Greek diners open all night, multiple coffee places, multiple veggie restaurants, a kick-ass library, close to Wegmans2, and my baby brother who is as funny and talented as he is adorable (not that I’m pimping him or anything, but ladies, he’s single AND he’s not afraid to cry over girly YA books…)!

Expect lots of dispatches from the Queen City as we get settled into our new place in the coming weeks… just in time for fresh orchard apples and real cider, Halloween, and probably the first of many blizzards3. I’ve also heard rumors that a rabid squad of 20-somethings4 is conspiring to turn me and Alex into a couple of beer-drinking, bar-hopping, goal-post-climbing Buffalo Bills fans (among *cough* other things), but like I told aforementioned baby brother, we are the grown-ups in this operation, damn it, and we’re not above going all After School Special on the lot of ’em!

*cough* Kids these days!

So you’ll have those stories to look forward to. See, I told you after my long blog absence I would make it up to you! Well maybe I forgot to tell you, tell you, but I was thinking it, and now you’ll reap the bounty of my Buffalo-bound babbling all winter.

In the words of Napoleon Dynamite… “LUCKY!”

P.S. No puppies were harmed in the writing of this blog post.

1. By we, I mean me, Alex, our friend Criptoper, and two of Helicopter Pilot’s finest, who helped us drive 2,000 miles with severe hangovers and only to get grounded from Omaha, but we’re not bringing that up again!


See? Aren’t the adorable? And hard-working, too!

2. For those of you unschooled in the glory that is Wegmans, see here. My first real job was as a Wegmans cashier. They had all these tracking systems so they could time how long it would take us to complete an order, even if it wasn’t our fault that the customer was digging in her purse for change or coupons or her club card. It was very high-stakes for a grocery job. Anyway, Wegmans is much cooler now than when I worked there, but they probably still time the employees.
3. This is not an exaggeration. Ask anyone to share childhood memories of Halloween in Buffalo and you will undoubtedly hear words like “snowsuit” and “frostbite.”
4. Yes, your honor. That’s them.


On Getting the Memo

Obviously, I didn’t. Get the memo, I mean. Twice. In one day. The memo was sent, and I, sadly, did not get it.

  1. Hannah Montana. For someone in her 30s, I consider myself relatively well-versed in youth culture. I write for teens, starting with 20 BOY SUMMER. I have to stay on top of these things, right? That’s why I read other teen books, keep running up our cell phone bill to perfect my text shorthand (“IDK… my BFF, Jill?”), and do crazy things like experiment with blue eyeshadow. So yeah, I’d heard of Hannah Montana before. Lots of times. I even tried to embarrass Alex recently in a Denver video store by exclaiming loudly, “Honey, look—they have those Hannah Montana posters you asked about!”

    Imagine my surprise when I discovered, upon clicking through a story about Miley Cyrus (whom I just heard about for the first time ever while watching the CMAs with my MIL – see what happens when you don’t have cable?) writing her memoirs, that she and aforementioned Hannah-Mo are one in the same, and that aforementioned Hannah-Mo is actually a fictional character! I mean, I knew the name was made-up (no one’s parents are that cruel), but I thought it was like a nom de plume kind of thing devised by Disney to sell more tickets to young girls and their parents so they can get more people’s fingerprints. I mean, um, moving on…

  2. Boys for Edward Cullen. Scott, my baby boo, was the first. You all remember it, right? Perhaps I didn’t blog about Scott’s unwavering Twilight devotion enough. I didn’t promote his Edward-hearting, me-time-taking, oreo-eating fervor with the attention it deserved. Remember?

    And out of nowhere, I was like, aww man, this is really cute, and suddenly I’m getting all emotional… I think I might need a Kleenex or some shit. So the next day, I was like, fuck it, my girlfriend isn’t coming over until later, so I got those Kleenex and a bag of Oreos and settled in for some ‘me time.’ I finished the whole book. And the Oreos. And I’m like, vampires, humans, cool, cool. I really liked it. I told my friend, dude, if you like vampire books, check it out. Now I have to get the next one. —Scott

    None of that matters now. Thanks to my late-memo-getter-doesn’t-get-jack curse, now there’s this guy*:

    And Scott, sweet little baby bird that he is, has to keep drumming for money (no, for reals. He literally plays the drums). I’m sorry, boo. If only I’d gotten the memo, I could have propelled you into Twilight fanboy stardom status and saved you from the depths of despair. Well, as deep and despaired as you can be when dozens of girls are screaming your name and throwing their bras at you on stage. But still.

Let this be a lesson for us all. What kind of lesson, I’m not sure, but there’s got to be one here somewhere.

*Post-post edit: I was too hard on Twilight Guy. TG is now officially okay in my book. I mean, not in my book that’s coming out next Spring—he’s not in that one. But my
book, you know, the one I keep on hand for doling out random judgments such as this.

Anyway, since TG, also known as Kaleb Nation, commented below, I decided I would let him keep the credit for starting all that “Edward Cullen Fan Club for Reluctant Boys” stuff. I’ll be following his hot-boy-vampire reading and research endeavors closely. 🙂

What Packing Taught Me

Alex and I spent the entire day running around town doing admin stuff like canceling our license plates (thanks for the hot tip, DMV lady from yesterday!). We also did some more packing (by we I mean Alex), eating (me), napping (me), whining (um, that would be me), drinking (me again, hi!) and standing around sighing loudly in the general direction of projects without actually doing them (guess who?).

But alas, all was not lost! I learned a number of valuable lessons today:

1) Digital Cameras are magical, beautiful things. Perhaps even more magical and beautiful than fairies. And possibly babies. Not that I have a fairy or a baby, or a baby fairy, but I’ve seen pictures of both and feel confident in my unqualified assessment. I do miss my traditional SLR; I miss the different lenses and filters and children asking me if they can see the pictures on the back after I take them (I wonder what they would do with a cassette or VHS tape? Hmmm…). But I don’t miss the endless piles of photos filed in drawers.

For the past several months, we’ve been working on a project to transfer all of our in-the-drawer photos (last one taken circa April 2006) to on-the-shelf albums and we’re in the home stretch. I only have about 4 more years on film to go through, and they were all neatly organized by date, trip, and subject until today when I accidentally left the sliding door open and the wind blew them all about, babies crashing into weddings crashing into vacations crashing into holidays. Woosh! Memories all over the floor. Take a look—you might see yourself in that pile somewhere!


2) Pandora Internet Radio QuickMix? Awwwww yeah. Where else can you get Charlie Parker, Tupac, Muse, and Cat Stevens in one set? They’ve been keeping me company during the photos project. Speaking of projects, it’s time for a quote from rock star baby brother (aka Baby Boo):

“Wait… you’re doing a photos project? See, there’s your problem, Sar. You guys have too many damn projects.

Me? I’m just a neanderthal. Point me in a direction and tell me what to do. I don’t want any schematics or spreadsheets or blueprints or project plans, okay? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Shit.”

3) Fuel cost projections are never a good idea in a $4/gallon economy. According to its specs, our moving truck gets 6 miles per gallon. Our trip is about 2200 miles. You do the math (no, not you, Baby Boo. We already know how you feel about spreadsheets. We don’t want to stress you out with too much pre-planning.).

4) Goodwill, our friendly neighborhood donation center, does not accept gym equipment. Probably because they also sell coat racks and clothes drying racks, and most people know that you can buy a coat rack or clothes drying rack much cheaper than a NordicTrak which ultimately serves the same purpose.


5) Apartment ghosts linger after 5 years. Look what Alex found behind my bottom bathroom drawer whilst performing a thorough bathroom cleaning, in which I myself wanted no part:


The pen and Barbie CD case are pretty self-explanatory (although I wonder why it ended up in the bathroom). But take a closer look at the note:



Oh, what does it all mean? What do you guys think? There’s a prize for the best answer. It’s a… combination NordicTrak / coat rack / clothes dryer*!

*You have to pick it up in Denver, though.

Who *Hearts* Edward Cullen?

“At first I thought it was like, super girly. I so wasn’t into it, especially when I saw that it was a Teen People ‘Hot List’ pick—man. But I really wanted to finish it, so I just sat down and read like another 200 pages. And out of nowhere, I was like, aww man, this is really cute, and suddenly I’m getting all emotional… I think I might need a Kleenex or some shit. So the next day, I was like, fuck it, my girlfriend isn’t coming over until later, so I got those Kleenex and a bag of Oreos and settled in for some ‘me time.’ I finished the whole book. And the Oreos. And I’m like, vampires, humans, cool, cool. I really liked it. I told my friend, dude, if you like vampire books, check it out. Now I have to get the next one.”

—Anonymous rock star baby brother (sister) on Stephenie Meyers’ vampire love story, TWILIGHT


I know, I know, it’s been ages. I hope you still remember me. Listen, I got back from that crazy tropical vacation in Buffalo about 2 weeks ago, and I justrightnowtoday finished thawing out.

I could write a whole book of poetry on how cold it was, using words like frigid and icewind and hellashiver, but you probably wouldn’t believe me. So, allow me to say it with the following 5-thousand word pictorial essay:


Blizzard Dance

End of the World



At least the music was good. Drinks, too, from what I remember.

*Covers mouth…*
*Withholds incriminating stories from HP groupie front-lines…*