Why I'll never be a haz-mat investigator

I have aloe vera between my index and middle finger on my left hand from a steam burn and both my tongue and throat are still screaming in pain from when I sampled WAAAAAYYYY too-hot coffee.

And I was only at my new job for four hours today.

Stupid coffee shop job.

I'm used to working at a desk in an office where the only hazardous situation I have to worry about is getting a paper cut - something I used to do often enough.

Anyone who knows me realizes that I'm kind of a klutz.

The fiance has stopped asking me about the bruises on my legs (from bumping into furniture that I KNOW is there) and the open sores and blisters that regularly develop on my heels and toes (from walking in high heels - for his benefit, I might add!).

I'll openly admit that I don't shave my legs as often as society dictates (I've heard there are women who shave, like, every day. What the heck?) because the razor always gets away from me, and I end up with a few minor slits all over my legs. One time, I didn't realize I was shaving with a defective razor and when I looked down, there were so many cuts on the bottom of my right leg that I needed to wrap it with an Ace bandage because it would have taken too many Band-aids to patch them all up. I honestly thought I was going to bleed to death that night.

But that still isn't as bad as slitting my wrist - which I did often enough while attempting to cut a long wedge out of a loaf of bread when I was 14 years old and working as a "Sandwich Artist" at Subway. And that was in front of customers!

So apparently I'm not made to do my new job.

I'll take paper cuts over third-degree burns any day!

OK, fine, I surrender

I actually had to hold back tears today when my new manager handed me an apron and asked me wipe off tables and restock coffee condiments in the lobby.

Yep, that's right. New York - you won.

I am a college-educated journalist with five years of experience living in a city with a publishing house on every other corner and I can't land a "real job" - or even a job as an intern.

So out of desperation and exasperation, I shelved my college education to ask customers if they would like their coffee for here or to go.

Now don't get me wrong - there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with working at a coffee shop. It's just not me. It's not my dream. It's not where I have envisioned myself at this stage of my life - especially now when I'm living in a city of opportunity for a limited time only. Plus, coffee always gives me a stomachache.

I guess I just expect greatness out of myself - or at the very least some success for crying out loud. And I'm failing.

I mean, what if Vincent van Gogh put his paintbrushes in a closet to work at a college snack shop (work with me here - I'm trying to make a point)? Or what if Stephen King assumed no one would want to read horror stories? Just to clarify - I'm NOT saying I'm even allowed to mention my name anywhere NEAR names like van Gogh or King, but you get what I'm getting at.

But what I've learned since moving here in December is a girl living in New York City has gotta have health insurance and a steady paycheck - things I haven't had since early November. My bank account shows it. My prescriptions are getting dangerously low.

And on top of that, a 120-pound Golden Retriever recently barreled into my right knee and forced it to bend a bit in the wrong direction. Luckily, the pain went away after a few days of icing it with frozen broccoli and taking lots of aspirin. But what if the mangy canine had caused a torn ligament or a broken ankle?

So until a publishing house gives me a chance to show them that I will be a valuable part of their team, I'll be wiping up coffee spills along with a few of my tears.

On the plus side, the fiance has been so supportive and appreciative that I'm not accepting unemployment with the occasional freelance paycheck as my job at the moment that it almost makes it seem worthwhile.

Almost.

Soft boiled eggs with a side of sweater fuzz

Before Sarah caught her train to head back to Washington D.C. (sniff, sniff!) early Monday afternoon, we decided to grab some breakfast.

And I mean actual breakfast - not cupcakes!

On the advice of the friends we made in line while waiting for free tickets to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre on Sunday night, we headed to Le Pain Quotidien Le Pain Quotidien on Seventh Avenue near Central Park - a restaurant that only serves organic foods.

I ordered the most amazing Belgian waffle I have ever eaten, which came topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries, and Sarah decided to try a soft boiled egg because she wanted to see it come in a cute little metal stand that holds it vertically.

I had no idea that she didn't know how to eat a soft-boiled egg. But neither did I. So she decided to put the bottom of her spoon on the outer edge of it and put pressure on the egg towards her.

That is not the right way to open a soft-boiled egg, which we both discovered when the egg cracked and the yolk and whites of the egg flew all over Sarah's sweater and jeans.

The look on her face was priceless.

Luckily, I don't think anyone noticed - or if they did, they were being extremely successful at keeping their laughter to themselves. Unfortunately, I was not and laughed nearly as hard as I did when I was at the comedy club the night before.

After excusing herself to go to the bathroom and clean herself off, she came back with a new shirt and a big wet spot on her jeans to finish what was left of her egg and we busied ourselves spying on other customers to see how the eggs are actually eaten. (The tops are carefully cracked off and most dipped their spoons inside the eggs to eat what was inside.)

Now we know.

Even though Sarah left to go home shortly thereafter, (sniff, sniff!) it's those little moments that still keeps me smiling.

Love you girl!

Dinosaur bones, sock mittens, and Chevy Chase

What do dinosaur bones, sock mittens, and Chevy Chase all have in common?

Well, they all showed up at some point or another during Sarah and I's amazingly fun and awesome Sunday!

Since we had the whole day ahead of us, Sarah decided to start it off on the right foot - with a cupcake for breakfast. I just stared at her over my shredded wheat. Compared to her, I'm really boring sometimes.

Then we went out into the freezing cold, hopped on the Subway, and headed to the American Museum of Natural History and ended up spending two-and-a-half hours there. (No, I couldn't get Brent to go. Boo!) But we barely made a dent at the museum - which we discovered as we were winding around exhibits we didn't know existed until we were trying to find our way out - something easier said than done.

But most of our time was spent on the top floor looking at the dinosaur bones and other animal exhibits - something we both found fascinating and fun. And we even had time left over to check out the space exhibit, which took us through a timeline of the history of our galaxy from the Big Bang until today. Space is awesome!

Afterward, we had some time to shop at Filene's Basement - home of the crazy brides stepping on each other to get discounted brand-name wedding dresses twice a year (thank God I already have mine - and it's gorgeous!!) and grab a delicious bite to eat at Ruby Foo's.

And since I'm such a great fiance, we made it home so I could make eggplant casserole for Brent, Sarah, and I (I make a homemade dinner every Sunday for Brent and I to enjoy together) and to chill out. The eggplant ended up being DELICIOUS, so Sarah and I ate up as much as we could, seeing since we had lunch about an hour before, before heading back out into the cold again to see if we could get tickets to a free comedy show at the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre.

It offers free shows on Sundays, so Sarah and I thought we could snag two tickets if we got there 45 minutes before they started handing them out.

We were wrong. They ran out of tickets about 10 people ahead of us. Crap.

We learned later that people start lining up for these shows at 6 p.m. because The Upright Citizens Brigade performs these improv shows with special guests and writers from Saturday Night Live, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. You never know who's going to show up.

So after waiting outside in the FREEZING cold, coupled with the frigid breeze, from about 7:40 until 8:20 p.m., Sarah and I decided to take our chances that we'd get standby tickets. But that meant standing outside in line for another hour. I don't do cold well at all, but was willing to suck it up for Sarah. I'm such a great friend.

I grabbed hot chocolate from a nearby Dunkin' Donuts, then Sarah and I started chatting up the four people ahead of us in line before Sarah and one of the guys ahead of us went into the supermarket we were standing next to to warm up.

After a few minutes, our new friend came out with those warming pads that warm up when exposed to air so you can stick them inside your gloves to keep your hands warm. And they were only $1.50 each. He bought enough for him and his friends, so I thought Sarah would be out any minute with some as well.

Sure enough, she came out with a shopping bag. My frozen hands could almost feel the heat. Until she pulled out a six-pack of socks. Socks?

She said since she couldn't find any gloves (she forgot to bring some to the theatre) it was either the socks or some oven mitts.

"WHY WAS IT BETWEEN SOCKS AND OVEN MITTS?" I asked her incredulously knowing that there was at least gardening gloves in there.

But she ignored me, put a pair of socks on her hands, and offered our new friends a pair of socks as I just shook my head. One of our friends actually accepted and took a pair of socks as mittens as well. Maybe Sarah will start a fashion trend.

Luckily, after nearly two hours of stamping our feet in the cold, we got into the theatre to see the ASSSSCAT 3000 show.

It was so totally worth it.

For the next 90 minutes, my abs got a total workout as I was cracking up from the second row at the improv delivered from about a dozen comedians - including Chevy Chase and Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live.

From trying to get some on a ski slope instead of frostbite to stirring a vat of granola with, well, something you don't want to imagine that was ever, EVER even NEAR something that was going to be in your mouth, the show was brilliant. And it was free. What could be better?

I'll tell you now that I will no longer clap when I'm happy. I'm totally doing monkey arms.

Weekend of awesomness

One of my best friends, Sarah, came up to New York from Washington D.C. for a long weekend, and I don't know if I could be more excited!

She got here early Saturday afternoon in time to help me finish grocery shopping. The fun here in New York never stops.

But I made it up to Sarah by making her stand in line with me in the cold for more than an hour so we could get 50 percent off tickets to see a Broadway show. (Hey - seeing a show was her idea!)

It was worth it, though, because we scored three tickets to Mamma Mia, which is one of the shows that Brent said he wanted to see. (Later, he told me that what he actually said was that Mamma Mia was the show he'd go and see willingly only if someone had held a gun to his head and told him he was going. Sigh.)

Even though he wasn't feeling well, he was a trooper as Sarah and I giggled and caught up with each other's lives while walking toward the theatre looking for a place to eat dinner.

After disagreeing on a few, we finally found one that was better suited for after-work drinks, but Sarah and I didn't really care because we got to sit on red velvet couches near coffee tables and felt like queens. Brent just went along with whatever we decided. He knows when he's outnumbered!


Since we weren't even sitting at a table, we ended up just ordered appetizers and sharing them all. That meant for dinner, I had nachos, brie, dumplings, and spring rolls. Awesome!


Though we didn't have the best seats for Mamma Mia (third from the back on one side) it was still a great show. The singing was phenomenal. I seriously never knew how good singing could be until I went to my first Broadway show.


While Sarah and I were enjoying the show, Brent was counting the number of songs he had to listen to until it ended. Not even ABBA could save the show for him. I do have to admit that the storyline was pretty silly, but it was funny, so I liked it, but not as much as Rent, of course.


After the show, Brent announced his retirement from seeing Broadway shows. Sigh. He's so not cultured.

But since he really wasn't feeling well, he walked us to the subway and headed home. Sarah and I weren't done having fun, so we did one thing I wanted to do - get some Pinkberry (see my Dec. 22, 2007 post) and one thing Sarah wanted to do - get some cupcakes at that famous bakery, Magnolia Bakery.


The bakery, which opened in the early 1900s on Bleecker Street near 11th Street in the West Village, is known for its dessert treats - most notably cupcakes. What other bakery do you know of that's open until 12:30 a.m.? And has a LINE of people outside waiting to get in at midnight?

But we understood why there was a line once we got close enough to see the brightly-colored chocolate and vanilla cupcakes decorated with sprinkles.

So even though the West Village after dark is a bit scary and deserted, the walk was worth it. I thought I'd like the chocolate ones much more than vanilla, but I was wrong. Vanilla cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery is where it's at. Y-U-M!!

And you know the cupcakes are good when my normally health-conscious fiance ate TWO in ONE day... on a non-cheat day, which is practically unheard of!

Maybe tomorrow I can get him to actually go to the museum!

PLEASE just give me a CHANCE!

Since I arrived in New York, I feel like I already have a full-time job... by applying for jobs.

Last count, I've applied for 116 jobs - that's ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN - and have gotten three phone calls in total since I began applying for them this past summer.

I've gone on three interviews - one in August and two at the end of September. Two of the jobs didn't pan out and I declined going on a second interview for the third job.

Since then, however, I've been applying for job after job after job..... and NOTHING!

ZIP!

ZILCH!

It's not like I'm applying for jobs that are way above my skill level. Some only required a year or two of experience, and I have five when you count what I've done both at The Blade and in college. So I'm not going for something beyond my reach, here. And I've very much lowered my salary requirements, so what's the deal, man?

I wish there were some way to prove that I'd be a fantastic employee at a magazine writing features or in publishing working with authors so they would know that I'd be a good employee, but, sigh, that's not how it works.

So apparently the next step is to find some professionals to take a look at my resume and cover letter because I'm frustrated and pretty much nearly at the end of my rope.

To all those people who have gotten my resume - JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE ALREADY!

American Idol is back, baby!

Finally! It's the moment we've all been waiting for!

AMERICAN IDOL IS BACK for SEASON SEVEN! Woo-hoo!

And for all of you loyal readers of The Blade in Toledo, the editors have asked me to continue my American Idol coverage, so you can still read my stories there! Here's my first story on American Idol for the seventh season.

Today and tomorrow, look forward to a total of four hours of hilarious auditions.

From there, the auditions will be an hour every Tuesday and Wednesday from 8 to 9 p.m. until Feb. 12, when we'll go to Hollywood for Hell Week.

The top 24 will be revealed on Feb. 13.

Once the top 12 are revealed, I'll start writing stories about who gets the boot until one is left. Can't wait!