Won't You Be My Neighbor?

Our apartment has a lot of windows. Windows we keep open a lot. Windows that can be seen by the parking structure across the street. I am aware of this fact but sometimes I forget. And last night was one of those 'sometimes I forget' situations. After my shower, I applied some sunless tanning spray to my pale ass skin. The product states that you must let it dry for at least 5 minutes before getting dressed. Not a problem for me- hell, I will let it dry for ten minutes!

I walked out of the bathroom, butt ass naked, letting my newly bronzed skin dry and started talking to Anthony, who was on the couch. I happened to glance out the window (our blinds were open, of course) and literally made eye contact with an old man who was sitting in the parking garage across the street smoking a cigarette. Without saying a word, I turned my head away from him and retraced my steps backwards into the bathroom, shut the door and busted out laughing. I'm pretty sure I made that guy's night. I know I made Anthony's night because he didn't stop laughing for about ten minutes.

Stand By Me 2: Starring Erin and Rhoda Demchak

When I would come home from college for the summer about ten plus years ago, my mom and I used to love to take walks together after supper. We would talk non-stop about everything while burning off those calories power walking- it was great! We would usually walk near our house in Durham or drive to Lisbon to walk on the bike path until they opened the bike path in Brunswick. How excited were we! On our first  trip to the bike path, we parked off a deserted road in Topsham (as we were instructed by the writeup in the paper) and walked to the entrance. Because it just opened, we weren't exactly sure where to go from where we parked the car to join the bike path, so we asked a random stranger who was getting into her car for directions. She told us to walk up a bit and when we saw a bridge, walk across it until we saw the signs for the path. Easy enough, we thought, as we made our way to the down the street. Except the bridge that we saw was not the bridge that we were instructed to take.

As we looked out into the distance, we saw a huge bridge over the Androscoggin River (that picture doesn't lie) that resembled the railroad tracks on Stand By Me. We looked at each other, looked at the sign that said 'No Trespassing,' looked at each other again puzzled and proceeded to walk across the bridge. I was terrified because we had to step carefully over these rickety pieces of wood with nothing to hold onto as the river rushed beneath us. I tried to hold it together though so my mom wouldn't get scared and thought, if everyone else who went to this bike path took this route, it must be okay. When we got to the other side (what seemed like an hour later) we saw the bike path below us and climbed down a steep hill to join it. A few people who were already on the path looked at us strangely but I thought nothing of it. I am not sure how or when we found out that we literally trespassed and definitely took the wrong bridge (the bridge that lady meant was the overpass equipped with a sidewalk) but I think my mom peed her pants laughing. What the hell were we thinking? And why did we think it was normal to walk across the railroad tracks?

To this day, I have no idea how we made this mistake and I have been to the Brunswick bike path a million times since that day and die laughing every time. I blame my mom...Who Else But Rhoda?

Things I Will Never Understand

Why do all Volkswagens smell like crayons? At first I thought it was just my car- maybe my air conditioner had a crayon like smell to it? Nope. The second Volkswagen I got also smelled like crayons…and every other one I have ever met since.

Why when bus drivers and/or motorcyclists see each other on the road they have to wave at each other? I almost feel inclined to wave to other white VW Jetta’s and I once waved at a girl who was wearing the same jacket as me.

Why do I always get scared when someone knocks on my door? Literally, every time. It could be the mailman or UPS driver and I freak out and never answer it. If you are my friend, don’t come by to surprise me. I won’t answer the door.

When did short ‘mom jean’ shorts become so popular? Maybe it is just California but if I see one more girl walking around with the high waisted, camel toe showing ‘mom jean’ shorts on I will scream. And why is it necessary to have your butt cheeks hanging out? I don’t need to see that. Thanks!

How do cruise ships float? Honestly, I don’t think I will ever understand the concept of cruise ships. You are telling me that those boats that carry hundreds of people, restaurants, clubs, rock climbing walls and roller coasters will float in the middle of the ocean? Blows my mind. I can’t even float.

How do fax machines work? Call me old fashioned but I still use a fax machine at work and every time I send something I question how it is going to get to the receiver on the other end of the number I just punched in. I don’t understand.

Why can’t I fall asleep at night before quadruple checking that my alarm clock is set? My alarm clock goes off as scheduled every morning yet I am terrified every night before I doze off that it won’t go off. I literally lie down then get up at least ten times to check that it is set. Do I have OCD?

Why do I get flat tires so much? Most people who I have met in my life have had maybe one or two flat tires in their life. I have had at least four on my current car that I have only owned for about three years. I have had two within weeks of each other and just got one last week while driving home from work. I don’t think my car likes me. (The feeling is mutual).

Why is Kim Kardashian famous?

Bringing Back the Fanny Pack

On Sunday I went to the LA Wine Fest with a few friends and if anyone has ever been to a wine tasting, you know that you get tipsy quick. We decided to take the bus there so nobody had to drive and 30 minutes into the ride we were eager to get off...not because it was taking too long, but because of a certain homeless guy who walked aboard and starting causing a havoc. Immediately when he got on, he threw down his belongings (three plastic bags full of more plastic bags) and starting ripping the posters off of the wall. The bus driver wasn't happy and luckily for her, there was a supervisor parked on the side of the road whom she motioned to come aboard. Once he climbed abroad the homeless person asked him if he was Hispanic or Central American then threw his Lunchable to the front of the bus...all I could think of was, 'they still sell Lunchables?" Then I figured he may have been holding onto that one for a while..... As he was being escorted off, he whipped out a package of ranch dressing and started drinking it, spurting out a few profanities and walking off the bus with the supervisor. As funny as that experience was, I wanted some wine!

When we got to the festival, I started to see people with bright neon fanny (or butt) packs with the car service, Über, written on them. I wanted one....now! So my mission began- Operation Butt Pack! Between my wine tastings, I would seek anyone out with a butt pack and ask them where they got it. I got a few rolled eyes and some, "they don't have anymore" but I knew I had to have one. Finally, I found the Uber kiosk and thought I hit the jackpot. But they really were out and even though they loved my enthusiasm, they assured me there was nothing that they could do to help me. I was devastated. I pleaded and begged and finally, out of the blue, like an angel from heaven, a little Asian guy appeared with a box. He nonchalantly opened it, handed me a butt pack and gave me a smile. I screamed, did a dance, strapped it on and promoted the crap out of Über.....I was finally complete. After the hoopla, another guy asked for one and the crew said that the one they gave me was literally the very last one they had. I looked him square in the eye and said, "Jealous?"

Tap Tap Tap On My Window...

Last year, when I lived in West Hollywood, I had a very annoying neighbor. But this neighbor wasn't a person at all, it was a tree branch. Night after night I would try and fall asleep to the tap tap tappity tap of the branch against my window, which of course was right above my bed. I was surprised that it actually bothered me since I could literally sleep through anything. Chainsaws, babies screaming, my mom once standing over me in bed washing my windows- yup, anything!

But for some reason, this branch (I called her Michelle Branch) drove me looney night after night. It was an annoying tap that would progress throughout the night...every night! So, one night when I couldn't take it anymore and was on the verge of calling my landlord, I figured I would take things into my own hands. I sprung out of bed and went out to the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. Once I was back in my bedroom, I hopped up on my bed, opened the window, removed the screen and squeezed half my body out of the window (scissors in hand) so I could reach the damn branch. I grabbed it, pulling it close to me and cut it in half, sending it crashing to the ground. Bye bye Michelle and goodnight Erin!

Mouse On The Move

The other day while I was driving, a huge moth flew in through the window scaring the crap out of me. It flew under my seat and stayed there the entire ride to work, making me feel uneasy that at any moment, it would fly up and surprise me. A few days after it entered my car, it emerged again in my backseat, flopping around, trying to get out. I haven’t seen it since that day and I am hoping it died- sorry little moth. That occurrence reminded me of an incident I had while in college. One that I will never forget.

I was driving home from class one day in my Plymouth Laser when I saw something out of the corner of my eye move. I looked over quickly and saw a little mouse scurry under the passenger seat. I screamed, slammed on the brakes and pulled over. Luckily I didn’t get so freaked out that I crashed my car. I jumped out of my car, left my door open and just paced back in forth for about ten minutes, grossed out and trying to think of something to do. I think I even tried to coax the little guy out by talking to him, as if that would actually work. Finally, after realizing that he was most likely as scared as I was, I decided to gun it to my apartment, which was only a few blocks away anyways. But it’s not like I could drive like everything was normal within the confines of my Laser, I drove like the floor was made of lava and there was no back to my driver’s seat. 

I pulled into my parking garage and asked the security guard to come help me get a mouse out of my car. He looked at me like I was crazy, grabbed a flashlight and followed me outside. He explained to me that mice can easily squeeze their little bodies into the engines of cars and into the interior and that he was probably already gone. I didn’t trust him so I made him look under the passenger side seat where I spotted him. All he found was a chewed up Starburst. That little bastard, he broke into my car and ate my candy? For the next month, I still drove like he was in the car with me and think I even pulled my legs up and sat Indian style at every stoplight.

My Leaning Tower Of Clothes

When I moved in with my boyfriend a few months ago, I gave up my giant closet and had to squeeze all of my stuff into his little space with all of his clothes. This was not going to work. My solution? I was going to go to Target to get one of those double hanging racks and put all of my stuff on it. Perfect! I bought the rack, put it together and started loading on my stuff. In my head, I was thinking how great this would be- Anthony could have the whole closet to himself and I would put all of my clothes on the rack...he wouldn't even know I was there! But in reality, I didn't read the weight requirements on the rack and literally put my entire wardrobe onto this thing. I was even hanging things I had never hung in my life, like t-shirts, because hey, I had a double hanging rack!

Although Anthony wasn't a big fan of having my entire wardrobe in our bedroom, out in the open, he was dealing with it. He knows not to say anything negative about a woman and her clothes. And I felt like a model getting ready for the runway every morning with my new hanging rack. Everything was just fine in the Gudin-chak household. Until, I went home to Maine on Easter weekend. While I was gone, my hanging rack decided to misbehave.....

I got a text from Anthony that Saturday morning while I was enjoying breakfast with my parents telling me that my hanging rack was done. Kaput. Huh? Here's what happened: Anthony came home late from work that night, or should I say that morning, around 4:00 am  to find my entire wardrobe on the floor and the bed. The hanging rack split in two, marking up the walls and spewing my clothes all over the bedroom. Groggy and tired, he naturally thought someone robbed our place and had a mini panic attack. When he figured out what had happened, he just picked up all of my stuff, threw it on the kitchen table and left it for me to deal with when I got back to LA. He was not happy.

What did I learn that day? I learned that you must read directions when buying a hanging rack because you can't just put everything you own on it (I even put my necklaces and bags on it) and that Mr. Clean Magic Eraser works wonders on black scuff marks on the wall. I did manage to save the bottom half of the rack (above) with some electrical tape but it leans a lot toward the right....my lovely leaning tower of clothes!