what do you do?

life is good.

i might only be saying that because i'm having my first proper cup of coffee in a week. but so what? you have to say it when you feel it, right? so....

the heat just came on, a banana breads in the oven, i have three days off in a row which i don't plan on being sick for this time, and my writing is progressing swimmingly. right now, life is freakin' great.

this was going to be a blog post about baking. and how now i bake and i never did before and isn't it cool as adults that we continue to grow and learn? then i thought about it.

i bake exactly four things comfortably: bread, banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and apple crumb cake. that cake recipe is a new addition, too. so until about 2 weeks ago, three things.

that's like saying i'm a swimmer when my only stroke is doggy paddle (though you should see my underwater handstand).

but maybe that's the great thing about being an adult. we can say and do whatever we want. you know, barring mean things.

so i'll say it proudly: I BAKE four things!

this week from work i'll acquire that shortbread cookie recipe. that'll put me up to 5. it's a slow start, but visit me when i'm 70 and be prepared to have your socks blown off.

and here, to light up your wednesday, is a fabulous dancing dog video:

rejoicing

it's official. if ever aliens take over the planet, if ever there's some mass zombie virus that descends, if ever any wide spread anything strikes the US, i'll be the first to go.

yep. totally capoot. 86 corrie.

as this past week proves, i, apparently, have no immune system. which explains why i've had the stomach flu 3 times, that's right, 3 FREAKIN' times this year. maybe anyone that catches it 3 times deserves it. which could be why this time it's lasted for 5 days (and counting). my body is saying: not going to buy yourself vitamins? pow! take that cheap girl.

tho it's not really stomach flu. it's gastroentro(something).

do you know how you catch it?

you touch something that someone who touched something poopy (yes, i mean literally poopy) touched and then you get those germs in your mouth. considering how many times a day i'm putting food into my mouth, i'll probably get gastrowhatever like 9 more times this season.

it wasn't food though. i think i remember exactly when it happened. i was rushing into the gym (hip hop class was starting) and i was fumbling an umbrella, my bag and wallet. to get my ID card i needed to take my gloves off and instead of pulling them off like a normal person, using my other hand, i used my teeth.

even then i thought it was disgusting. do you know what those gloves touch?! in this city?!

boom, next morning, corrie's laid out flat.

it's strange being very sick because you don't even really care. i spent the entire day friday waking up, napping, waking up, lying there, then napping more. from 9 in the morning until 1 a.m. when i offically went to sleep. i didn't want to read or watch tv. i just lied there. semi-conscious. all day.
but not today. today, i'm better! maybe not 100 percent, but i'm sitting up, writing, and thinking about food. today, things like going to the bank and finishing my taxes sound like fun. today just imagining doing either of those things doesn't wipe me out. (okay, doing taxes maybe does.)

oh, rejoice to be on the mend! rejoice to be healthy! and rejoice that you have not had a nearly week long, someone else's poopy caused stomach virus!

and please while you're rejoicing, everyone, wash your hands.

Sick

Stomach flu. Again. I <3 nyc. Sigh.

thinking summer

i was in the city earlier and had the fun experience of watching rain turn to snow. other than that, there's not much to appreciate about the weather today. it's pretty miserable out there.

on a similar day last week, i bought... a bikini bottom! (naturally.)

one of my favorite all time things to do online is shop the jcrew swimware sales section. it'd be fun to have pictures of all the bikinis i put in my "bag" but never purchase. there must be at least 70.

i'd been obsessing over one lately, but as sale sections go, they'd have the right size i wanted for the top, but not the bottoms. or not the right color, etc.

last season, i thought that the below one had it all. it was the right size, it was fun, it was ultra-cheap. only problem, not realized until i opened the box?

it's hellah ugly. possibly the most unflattering piece of swimwear ever created.

so segue to me being at target, looking at bikini's and finding the below bottoms.

with the gift card i had, they cost only $5. why not? i thought and bought them.

here's why not... these bikini bottoms have been scientifically engineered to not cover any of the important parts.

lesson? as painful as it is, always try the swimsuit on in the store.

now come on spring!

what is it good for?

during the japanese earthquake and tsunami one of my sisters texted me and asked if this was the beginning of the end. with their mayan roots and supersticions, half of my mexican friends think it is. then i woke up yesterday and NPR (which possibly won't be receiving any federal funding henceforth) told me that we'd joined with France and England to bomb Syria.

oomph. beginning of the end or not, what's happening to our poor world?

saturday, i had a woman throw her hands up at me because one of her friends entrees came out a few minutes after the others. i had already apologized and warned the table there was a mistake -- it would be a minute -- but that her dessert was on us. i wish i had video of it. up flew the woman's hands, then in a violent gesture she waves them at the empty place between her friend's fork and knife.

it's food! i wanted to shout. in the grand scheme do you see how little your getting upset is doing? how much more harm it's actually causing both of us? instead, the table got an extra dessert and the woman placed her hands over her heart and bowed to me in gratitude.

note: if anyone's every irrationally angry at you, offer them chocolate ice cream. it cures all.

also sunday morning, as you might know, i was part of my first flash mob, dance thing. it was quite the experience.

my friend, nicole holst, wanted to protest the MTA's fare hikes, so she made a little song and dance for us to perform on the F train. nervous doesn't describe our mindsets. the plan was to start performing once the train went under the tunnel giving us about 3 uninterrupted minutes.

we sat on the train in our regular clothes and then waited in agony through the necessary stops. then it was the York Street and time.

nicole sang the first two verses alone before any of us dancers joined her. i'm still amazed at her audacity. i was so nervous, when i danced my elbows never left my side. then we were through the tunnel, and it was over.

some people taped it on their phones. one younger passenger had a huge smile on his face the whole time. a few clapped. we performed it twice more, in Union Square and in front of City Hall. each time was just as scary.

i wish we could all feel that way a little more frequently. it made me feel the same way that travelling does. a little ballsy, less safe, invigorated.

then, i woke to the war on Syria news brief and thought, what a shame that we still fix global problems with violent anger. gesturing angrily at the empty space between knife and fork. why can't we more often go the song and dance route of fixing things?

am i being naive? yes, certainly.

but more and more i see how it's about cultivating happiness. i'll say it again, we're affecting others with how we act. and we don't know how grand those consequences could be.

hopefully, we'll be lucky enough that all those greater problems stay out there in the world. but for as long as they do, we can make our little spheres nicer, more forgiving, sillier. because you can never tell what good might come of your happy sphere bumping into someone elses.

besides, if the world's ending why would you want to spend even a minute of that time hating on anyone?

(having said that, it didn't stop me from becoming irrationally angry at my table that stayed for nearly three hours yesterday and then tipped less than 20 percent. but cultivating happiness is a process! and reminding myself of my effort helped...a bit.)

here are two of the rate hike protest videos. i prefer the second (because my arms aren't glued to my rib cage) but the first was the scariest so... sigh... here it is:

and the other (listen for the spectator yucking it up in the background)

my first time flashing

oh dear.
i'm doing something tomorrow that makes me cringe. i'm going to be part of a flash mob-style dance routine on a....nyc train! argh!

i don't want to ruin the surprise of what it's about or why it's being done, but suffice it to say, i'm going to be donning some mouse ears (seems i just can't get away from the damn mice) and am gonna be shaking my tail in front of strangers.

i should have no problem doing this, right? i'm not shy, i make lots of videos, and i love to dance. but do you remember my karaoke fears? this is a little like that.

i think a little (healthy) fear is good for the soul. it wakes you up, builds new memories, and gets you away from your safety net of daily routines. (interesting how if the net is under you it's for safety. if it lies over you, it's a trap.)

so while i'm doing something horrifyingly new tomorrow, maybe you can do something new this weekend, too! then tell me all about it.

meanwhile, my stupid mouse is back. or my not so stupid mouse. he's avoiding the traps i set (i didn't wear gloves when i set them, so they must smell like me).

i think it's time to borrow a cat.

a writing wednesday

ahhh. it's officially my saturday. even better it's rainy and gloomy and i have no plans other than staying in, writing, and going to dance class later. oh and laundry. which means in just 20 minutes i'll have clean clothes to change into.

what could be better? this: tomorrow, i'm headed to long island to visit a friend. she lives near the beach. and it's supposed to be warm. which means i'll possibly be, gasp! outside tomorrow. pics and a proper blog post to follow on friday.

in the meantime, happy saturday. or wednesday. or just happy!

dreaming of warm places

which is better than dreaming of creepy black shapes hovering next to my bed. i don't remember my dreams much, but when i do, they're all terrible. the other morning, in my dream, i saw something looming right next to me. in real life i bolted upright and hissed at it.

moral of this story? it's time for a vacation. 

any suggestions?

cultivating happiness

how far does happiness travel?

i know stress and worry carry. i hear it in my mom's voice everytime i call her with a fresh corrie drama. nastiness carries too. i can't count the times i've felt icky for a whole evening after encountering one awful customer at work. or the times i've seen the same thing change a friend's mood from glowing to brooding.

we affect people. even in the tiniest moments. waiting in line. going out to dinner. walking down the street.

at my dance class this last wednesday, after everyone had left, one of the students crept to the back and put the music back on. five of us were still there and we busted through the routine a few more times, giggling the whole while. right there, her playfulness made everyone else's life better.

i started a blog. i made some videos about my friends who inspired me. the one about christine, in turn, inspired her friend to quit his job. he said it was the best decision he'd made all year. another friend wrote me the other day to tell me how happy my blog made her. meanwhile, i'd been thinking about how pointless it all was.

i'm not trying to pat myself on my back -- though i'd gladly accept a backrub right now, geez, i ache. but i'm trying to say, we don't know how our tiny marks are notching the lives of others. so maybe this week put a little happiness out there and see what you get back.

pesky pests

while i was writing on monday, something black streaked across my living room. not wanting to confront something disgusting, i pretended i imagined it, shivered, and went on writing. but then... it reappeared.

yes, the least secretive mouse in the world darted right out onto my kitchen rug. it quivered there for a minute, then fled back under my sink.

my first thought? thank god it wasn 't a roach.

i had a mouse in my house last summer. he'd sneak into my garbage every night and graze. i convinced myself it was just the sound of paper settling in my recycling bin. (yes, i can be highly delusional). but after a week went by, i knew it had to be addressed. i set out traps. fled to work. came home and found my little murdered victim.

now, i sprung my traps back into action. i even used a good blueberry jam to entice it. (after touching the mouse trap with the jam spoon, i stupidly put the spoon back in the jam. this wouldn't be so disgusting, if the mouse trap hadn't still had peanutbutter on the spring from the first go around. do i throw the jam away? i scrapped off the top layer, but i'm not sure i'll ever be able to eat it again. grr and sigh at the same time.)

for the next hour i wrote, waiting and cringing, as the little pest rooted around. it was so overtly loud at one point, i had to look for him. i thought he might have slipped into a wine bottle that's in the recycling, but instead, he was just trying to get the heck out of here by climbing out the plumbing through a hole in my wall. feeling my presence, he slipped off the pipe -- i could almost hear a tiny, mousy "ack!" escape him -- plopped to the floor and vanished.

thank goodness, i haven't heard from him since.

i don't want to find him dead. i know. i know! they're vermin. and in NYC not something that can be treated with kid gloves. last summer, my dad asked if i was going to trap my mouse humanely. i scoffed (because even at my age i still act like a bratt) and said, "dad, it's a pest. there's way too many in this city. if i let it go, it'll just infest someone else's house."

true, but there's also a lot of writers in NYC. what does that make us? and why do we get free reign while mousey gets the giant clamp trap. karma?

though i think the little guy high-tailed (low-tailed, whatever) it out of here, i keep seeing him everywhere. gasping each time.

duh. it's a cord.

duh, it's a nasty bit of organic shower curtain that you really could cut off.

duh. no it's not mouse droppings, but have you ever heard of sweeping?

he's even turning up in my reading materials.



i swear he was number 4. which according to this article in
New York Magazine means he has a human liver inside of him. cute, right?


the whole episode has made me reazile two things.

1. cute as he is, the traps are still out, and kill him i will. the thought makes me a little sad. before i moved here, there would have been no question that i'd have bought a humane trap. hardened NYer? or realistic city dweller. or is that the same thing? either way, i guess i'm now both.

2. i'm not a very good cleaner. i mean, seriously. did you see pictures 2 and 3? how embarrassing. my landlady hired a cleaning lady to do my hallway (as seen here)

and the sight of it made me gasp (with all this gasping, i should have been born in the 1800's. luckily, i don't also swoon.). so this is what clean is, i thought, and simultaneously, how did she do that?

oh, corrie. there is still much to learn.

Monday, Monday

After posting one of my ending the should videos I always feel entitled to call a vacation day from blogging. So this is it. Whoo-hoo.

You can always watch the Jared video again.

xo

ending the shoulds featuring Jared McGuire

waiting. is there anything worse? (yes, yes. war. hunger. racism. the entire global economy and environment crashing. a little perspective here please, i know. but i'm talking of the smaller problems in life.)

so where was i?

waiting.

it's terrible waiting in line at the supermarket or for a cup of coffee. now imagine if your entire existence revolved around waiting.

that's what my life feels like sometimes... most times... always. i'm waiting. it's what i'm told when i'm feeling blue. just wait, good things are coming. fine, but what do i do in the meantime?

i'm tired of thinking everything will be fixed as soon as _____ happens. all that does is prevent me from doing other things. i'll move out of my apartment. i'll end/start a relationship. i'll leave my job. i'll get a dog just as soon as _____.

in the meantime, a day passes. then a week. then a whole year. around me other lives have changed, expanded, progressed. meanwhile, mine is exactly the same. yet each day is lived with baited breath, hoping that something will occur to make things different and better.

not that anything is wrong. admittedly, it's a good life. but living a creative lifestyle, living a life outside the shoulds, can sometimes also be a little torturous. i blame the waiting.

so here's my third in the series of ending the shoulds videos. it's intended to be a gentle reminder (mostly to myself) that the waiting point in life isn't one to "just get through." it's one to enjoy along with all the rest of it.

a writing wednesday

ah pear cake. they were tossing it at the restaurant last night. so now it's my breakfast of champions. it always tastes a little metall-y when eaten right out of the (metal) to go container. but knowing this, i still never put it on a plate.

pictures of breakfast. wow.

clearly i am reaching today, but only because i'm very close with my next shoulds video. hopefully it'll be ready for friday.

so stay tuned!