i guess this is growing up

So I'm going to be 35 tomorrow. As mentioned in my previous post, I'm grateful for the positive side effects that come with age -- maturity, acceptance, wisdom and all that other junk. No complaints here. However, I've noticed some other changes in my life that are a bit unsettling. For example, I say things like, "Wait, I need my glasses!" and "Ouch. I think I pulled something when I stood up!" with far greater frequency. I even caught myself using words like "racket" and complaining, "I couldn't hear above the din in that place!" Once the sensitivity to noise starts, it's all downhill.

I've also noticed that the contents of my shopping basket at the store are far different from several years ago. In the past week I've gone to the store with the intention of buying high fiber cereal (with flax!) and calamine lotion. Those weren't impulse buys. They were premeditated and the sole reason for my excursion. The latter is to help treat a skin irritation I've recently developed. I cannot tell you how long I've spent in the first-aid aisle of Rite-Aid researching ointments and what not. Since when do I suffer such maladies?! Or use the word ointment? Ew.

But! There's hope! Tomorrow's festivities will allow me to reclaim part of my youth. First, I'm having a girly birthday brunch with some of my favorite females in the whole wide world. Afterwards, we're retiring to my apartment for cupcakes generously supplied by The Lovely Jess followed by the pièce de résistance ... a Wii tournament. I bought an extra remote and nunchuk just special for the occasion. I may or may not print out some bracket sheets to accurately record the wins and organize the appropriate match-ups.

It's going to be so much fun. Although, I hereby predict that I will be spending a lot more time in the first-aid of Rite-Aid in the days following.

i four years old

Rejoice, bitches! Today Ham & Cheese on Wry turns a whopping four years old. God, it seems longer than that, huh? Maybe it's because age three was a rough year for my blog -- I barely updated it and when I did, there wasn't much to say. Here's hoping year four will remedy that.

For those of you in the mood for some nostalgia, here's the link to my first-ever post.

P.S. The title of this post is not an error. It randomly popped into my head, as stray bits of pop culture and quotes often do. I think this was from Bill Cosby routine? I'll have to consult the Google. Ask me what I ate for breakfast yesterday and I'm stumped. Ask me about a minute detail from a John Hughes movie and my memory is shockingly accurate and thorough. It's a gift, really.

UPDATE: God, I love the YouTube. Even though I fudged it slightly, the "I'm four years old" line is, in fact, from Bill Cosby's "Jeffrey" routine:

Some of the details are fuzzy but I'm still a freak about remembering this sort of shit, no?

why i love the lovely jess

... because she gives me birthday gifts like this:

I had a whirlwind weekend so I'm too pooped -- HA! Pooped! Get it? -- right now to go into detail but I'll regale with you tales of my party soon. In the meantime, thanks again for the birthday wishes! Much appreciated!

she neither looks nor smells like a monkey, i assure you...

Today is Glamour Puss's birthday. She pops in here from time to time so please join me in wishing her a happy one.

If you're so inclined, you're also invited and encouraged to sing "Happy Birthday." And by all means, do feel free to adopt the dramatic song stylings from my faux Idol audition. Jazz hands are optional.

On three... And a-one and a-two and a one-two-three...

Happy Birthday to you, Glamour Puss!!!!!!

xoxo,
Me :)

upholding a tradition of class and refinement

Last night was The Lovely Jess's Third Annual 29th Birthday Party. A good time was had by all. Like, a REALLY good time. Actually, I expect nothing less because in the years that I've known Jess, her birthday parties always prove to be a reliable breeding ground for fun times, solid hangovers... and incriminating photos.

For example, here's what yours truly was caught doing back in 2005:

And here's what I was caught doing in 2006:

I had to break with tradition this year because we had a change of venue and there were no pitchers at our disposal. With a lesser group of people, I would have gone home without any photographic evidence of my obvious class and propriety. But lucky for me, I roll with a group of people who really know how to improvise so I'm happy to report that the tacky tradition is alive and well:

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Summer for making my itty bitty titties appear to have some semblance of girth to them. She not only photographed my girls, she instructed me how to push up and in for maximum effect. At the same time, I'm a bit disheartened that the rather sad-looking wee bump you see above is considered "maximum effect."

Lest you think I was the only one baring my chest, I'm happy to report that we all got in on the act, man and woman alike. For these and many more silly photos, check out my set on Flickr. Hee hee... I said "set."

P.S. Happy Birthday, The Lovely Jess!

under britney's influence

This past Saturday night, my family convened for dinner to celebrate Mama McDimple's 70th birthday. The Adorable Six-Year-Old Niece arrived at the restaurant shortly after I did and immediately claimed the empty seat to my right. We had no sooner exchanged hugs and kisses before she lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper and breathed, "I have a secret to tell you."

"You do? What is it?" I asked.

Her big green eyes widened and her lips tightened forming a super serious expression on her cute wee face. She then cupped one hand over mouth and talk-whispered, "I forgot to put on my underpants... Don't tell my Mommy."

Ah, the perils of letting children dress themselves.

Oh, and apparently The Equally Adorable One-Year-Old Nephew was caught waddling around my parents' family room the other day holding two bottles of (unopened) booze he snuck from their bar.

Yup. There's absolutely NO question these children are related to me.

'cause we care and crap

In lieu of birthday drinks this year, I decided to shed some of the self-absorption and selfishness I acquired in the last year by inviting friends and family to join me in volunteering on New York Cares Day.

On Saturday, The Lovely Jess, A Lover and a Fighter, Azee, The Younger Sister, Steph and Amy, she of the chipmunk banging down, joined me in sprucing up a high school on Manhattan's Lower East Side.

We scrubbed graffiti and the odd bit of spunk off walls and desks, cleaned classrooms and painted doorways, trim and radiator covers, among other things. We scarfed down Munchkins (which I picked up along with the thirst-quenching coffee for the questionably-dressed panhandler), BS'd like there was no tomorrow and had an all-around awesome time in the process.

Cleaning ourselves up afterwards was a bit of a bitch, as you can see by Jess's nails. We tackled the stubborn paint with a one-two combo of slimy gunk supplied by the custodian and a big ol' jug of paint thinner. Many manicures were scheduled on Saturday, I assure you.

By 3:00, we were good and high on paint fumes and quite giddy as a result. While cleaning up in the slop sink, I was quite taken with the noisy faucet. Its whiny, whistling shriek seemed familiar to me. And then I had my turpentine-fueled epiphany: "Hey, that sounds like Rudolph's nose."

Everyone agreed. And we laughed like it was the.funniest.thing.in.the.world. At least I did. Forget bong hits, if you want a real high, spend some quality time with oil-based paint and little-to-no ventilation.

New York Cares is a great organization. For you locals in need of something meaningful to do with your free time, I highly recommend giving this group a whirl.

I want to thank everyone who came with me on Saturday and all of you who sponsored my time with a nice donation. I really appreciate it. See you next year.

on this day in history...

1781: Cornwallis surrenders at Yorktown

1796: Editorial accuses Jefferson of affair with slave

1812: Napoleon retreats from Moscow

1864: Battle of Cedar Creek

1931: John le Carre is born

1939: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington debuts

1965: Communists attack Plei Me Special Forces camp

1973: A certain foul-mouthed lesbo with curly hair graces the world with her presence

1987: The Dow takes a dive. The aforementioned lesbo really resents her special day being dubbed "Black Monday."

1993: Nothing out of the ordinary

2003: Our heroine is saddled with a nasty case of bronchitis. Her 30th birthday party is postponed but is well worth the wait. The owner of the pub lets her go behind the bar and teaches her how to pull the perfect pint of Guinness.

2005: Eats some lasagna

2006: Giddily anticipates the arrival of the birthday present she's giving herself

(Source: The History Channel)

in keeping with tradition...

... started last year, I once again partook in some very lady-like behavior at The Lovely Jess' birthday shindig last night. Check it out:

For more pics from last night's debauchery, please click here. I'm too lazy to caption the photos beyond the generic location (thank you, Flickr batch operation!) If you're in one of those photos and want to ID yourself, kindly help this lazy sack of shit out and post it in the comments on Flickr. Danke!

and sows a bird in her knickers

Last night was my birthday party! I'm not terribly hungover today because I paced myself all night long. After several Hefeweizens and a SoCo Lime shot, I was no worse for the wear. Today, however, I'm dehydrated, rocking a caffeine headache and a have a voice like Selma Diamond. (Night Court, anyone?) I'm still not technically hungover because I wake up most days dehydrated with a caffeine headache and a voice like Selma Diamond. Par for the course, you see.

Before I go gorge myself on an entire Brita pitcher and get to percolating some coffee, I just wanted to thank you all again for the birthday wishes and emails. I was feeling a little crummy the past couple of weeks but this week... not so much. Several people last night thought I was rip-roaring drunk because I was so smiley and gawd, even giddy at times. I was not drunk though... just really happy. Thanks to each and every one of you!

Thanks to all of my friends who came to mah pah-tay last night. My best birthday present was seeing separate groups of friends mingling and hitting it off, exchanging phone numbers and making plans for future brunches, dinners and trips to Cattyshack. Awesome. FYI, would-be-wise guys, I'm in on the plans too so ex-nay on the jokes suggesting otherwise.

My other favorite presents were a birthday card from the Brand-New Nephew (I know he didn't write it out but whatever, it's cute and has a bear on it and it just makes me smile. Shut up!) and a charming rendition of "Happy Birthday" sung into my answering machine by The Adorable Five-Year-Old Niece. Coincidentally, she opted for the same lyrics as The Lovely Jess in which I look and smell like a monkey. To that I say, monkeys are cute so I'll take the compliment. I don't know if I've ever really smelled a monkey so I'll reserve judgment on the odor. But I don't think their tendency to fling dung is necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I might start doing that when people piss me off or get too close to my feet.

Thank you again, everyone, for a really special birthday!

Love,
Curly

guess what today is?

Update: I just received my first birthday present of the day. Oh and it's a dandy!! A big THANK YOU to the man who picked his wedge right in my face this morning.

My birthday wish for you, kind sir, is that your undies continue to ride up throughout the day so that you can share that spectacle with other unsuspecting subway riders and coworkers. Cheers!

i say it's my birthday...

Na na na na na na na nuh!

Today I turned 31. I'm a little weirded out by this. I don't feel 31 nor do I look 31 but I'm still unnerved. I'm now in my 30s. Scary stuff.

My birthday has been rather uneventful. It's a cold, wet day here in NYC and I'm saddled with a cold so I'm not out whooping it up. I have no voice with which to whoop. I'm also in a race against the clock to get well because the second oldest McDimple girl is getting married on Saturday. I fully intend to be going full blast this weekend with family and friends doing the "Cha Cha Slide" and whirling about to "Cotton Eye Joe" like nobody's business. I will also need all my strength to fend off the myriad "So, are you next?" inquiries. ::shudder::

My birthday shindig will take place in early November when the funk is long gone and the wedding dust has finally settled. In the meantime, I'm popping the vitamin C like it's my job and nursing myself back to health. However, tonight I'm allowing myself a beer while watching my beloved Yankees. I've got my rally cap on in the hopes that they'll roar back to life and win the pennant on my birthday. Of course, I'll accept this gift belatedly. I mean, I won't say no to an ALCS championship later in the week either. But all the same, let's try to wrap this up tonight, boys. I seriously cannot look at Johnny Damon's ridiculous bouncy mane and his George Michael-Faith-era facial hair one more day.

tarot cards & tapas

I unexpectedly ended up going to a press event after work. For reasons I can't really explain, I had my astrological chart done at a function touting nail polish remover. If there's a common thread in there somewhere, I'm just not seeing it. If it was palm reading and Lubriderm, I'd understand but I'm not sure I'm grasping this correlation. To add insult to befuddlement, I totally got weaseled out of my tarot card reading. I do believe one of the organizers was standing behind me giving the "wrap it up" motion about two minutes into my session. I was quickly told to embrace my "odd ways" and to stop being so hard on people. On the upside, I'm going to fall madly in love next year and I was encouraged to either have kids or write a children's book. Apparently, I'm "bursting with content." I personally think the astrologist is bursting with shit.

I then F-trained it downtown to attend a birthday dinner at 1492 where we partook in sangria and yummy tapas. As good as the food was, I'm not sure I fully appreciate the whole sharing of food with complete strangers concept. Half of the table was comprised of people I never met before but that didn't stop them from making short work of my fried calamari. Perhaps it's the PMS but I found myself getting really territorial with my porcini mushroom croquettes. I practically had to throw elbows and slap hands to get one when the waiter brought them to the table. I know the whole tapas thing is supposed to be a communal, shared experience but this was more like a feeding frenzy. Oddly enough, there was a woman sitting next to me named Mako who was super predatory and really efficient whenever a new round of food hit the table. I dared not put my hand in her path for fear it would be mistaken for chum. Personally, if I shared a name with a fierce killing machine, I'd be a bit more mindful of my eating habits.