hurricanes upset my hiatal hernia

(a breaking news interruption in the what i did this summer series)

like most jewish girls in the 21st century, i’m not known for my hearty nature. my straightened hair frizzes easily, my joints tend to ache before rain, and i need to eat every three hours or my blood-sugar will drop severely and i will undoubtedly act out.  (trust me, you don’t want me to act out.)

i also have a hiatal hernia that gets irritated during stressful situations. so you know i wasn’t happy to hear there was the worst hurricane in like 50 years headed our way.

to be quite frank, even before sandy’s arrival, i’d kind of had it with the natural disaster type things around here. we’d already had two hurricanes and we’ve only lived in baltimore since 2006. oh and then there was THAT EARTHQUAKE which i mistakenly thought was an underground gas explosion, which propelled me to make the wise decision to stick my head out of our second-floor bedroom’s wide-open windows and shout at the jackhammering work guys outside WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING MY HOUSE IS GOING TO EXPLODE.

as luck would have it, a drugdealer across the street looked up at me and shouted EAAARTH-QUAKE!!!!!! oh so it wasn’t a gas explosion, i thought as i my socked feet slid across the rumbling floor. relief quickly turned to guilt, as i really gave the confused-looking workers a verbal lashing. i kind of felt like a dumbass but whatever. it could have been a gas explosion. what the hell do i know? i’ve never felt a friggin earthquake before. this isn’t california, it’s maryland. so i did what any jersey girl would do: i threw on my sneaks and jean jacket, grabbed  my purse and ran the hell out the door. it doesn’t matter that it was 90 degrees out. hell if i’m going to let our house crumble on my very best jean jacket.

anyway, as soon as i heard about the hurricane, my hiatal hernia started acting up. (have you ever had bad gas pains? yeah, it’s kind of like that but higher and it burns.) i put on my brave face (and yes, my jean jacket) and went to safeway friday afternoon to buy water only to be confronted by soviet-era empty shelves, then promptly threatened to cut a girl and pull out her weave for two bottles of smartwater. (no i actually didn’t do that but i could have don’t tempt me)

i bugged holly all weekend about getting ice, buying more drinks, buying more food, making sure the gas tank was filled, recharging all the rechargeable batteries we bought before the last hurricane that we haven’t used yet. i also bugged her to cook me hearty hurricane food like guinness beef stew and chili even though they would probably all upset my hiatal hernia.

i finally remembered to fill up the bathtub sunday night, when the hurricane was already well under way, of course. i’m not exactly sure why you should do that? because storms make the water go out? and then you use it to flush the toilet?

whatever, they kept mentioning it on the news and it was stressing me out. so i turned on the tub then went downstairs and started doing dishes until, panic-stricken, i remembered OH MY GOSH I LEFT THE WATER ON BABE TURN IT OFF HURRY!

“oh i love how this is my responsibility now!” holly shouted as she frantically ran up the stairs.

i knew she was right but i was also in the middle of doing dishes. sue me, i panicked and she was closer to the stairs. anyway, in those moments before she got to the bathroom, i had visions of the tub running over and telling people, yeah we had a really bad leak and our ceiling collapsed but no, it wasn’t because of the hurricane, it was because i left the bathtub on for like 30 minutes.

“IT’S OKAY!” holly shouted downstairs.

i breathed out, eternally grateful for our oversized tub.

i rewarded myself for getting through such a stressful time by drinking some cranberry-lemonade honest-ade, which we bought in case the water went out and/or became poisoned, so it was strictly off-limits. i took a few gulps and irresponsibly encouraged holly to do the same.

then we decided to go downstairs to our children-of-the-corn basement, which, yes, once smelled like dead people but doesn’t anymore, to check how much water we were getting.

we quickly discovered that we’d sprung a new leak, which was saturating the ceiling. i immediately started worrying about how much it would cost to fix and would it lead to structural damage, simultaneously patting myself on the back for even knowing such a term. then i realized holly had been talking to me for like a minute asking me to help her pump the water out of the basement through our street-level basement window.

while we were pumping, all i could do was think about how much i wanted to wash my hands and would i get a spider bite and would patient first be open and what if i needed antibiotics?

we went back upstairs to the living room, and by then the wind was really going. between the howling winds, the leak downstairs, and pounding rain, i doubted i’d be able to fall asleep.

suddenly holly was next to me on the couch in her pajamas wanting to watch one of her dumb comedy/action movies. you know, the kind where one thing after another goes wrong? (this one was “the sitter,” which, though kind of annoying and crude, was also kind of funny.)

she’s always stealthily changing into her pajamas. seriously, i turn my back for a minute and the girl’s in her pajamas. i don’t even know how she does it but it never ceases to amaze me.

“you really want to go to sleep in your pajamas?” i asked her wide-eyed. “what if we need to run out in an emergency in the middle of the night? i’m sleeping in my clothes. i’m not even taking off my bra.”

“what kind of emergency?” she said, trying not to laugh.

“well…like if the windows break. if the wind blows the windows out and we have to run out of the house away from flying glass!”

“i think we’ll be ok,” she said, settling into the movie.

i gave her the evil eye, jealous of her cozy pajamas. my jeggings suddenly seemed restrictive, and my ironic flannel shirt felt too hot. but whatever. i was prepared. she’d be the one sopping wet in her pajamas outside with the neighborhood perverts if our window blew out, not me.

when the movie was over, we went to bed. i decided to wear sweatpants to sleep because hell if was going to run out of the house in the middle of the night in boxer shorts amongst the perverts and whatnot. i had a moment of hesitation regarding my bra but decided i could put it on while running out of the house if need be.

i’m happy to report that besides the new basement leaks, our house withstood the wind and rain. and i did manage to sleep. and there were no emergencies causing us to run outside in the rain amongst the perverts. i was relieved i didn’t have to put my on bra on the run. to be honest, i’m not sure if that’s even possible.

my heart is heavy for all the folks that lost their homes, lost everything, even their lives. i spent many happy times with my family at the jersey shore. but, as a one-time jersey girl, i have to say: new jersey folks are damn resilient. if anyone can rebuild, it’s them. the same goes for those in queens.

last night i thought about posting this entry, wondering if it was too nonchalant considering the damage that’s been done. but then i decided everyone could use a laugh right about now. and what better way to cheer up than to read about my multiple neuroses (and my hiatal hernia) during a hurricane? exactly.

in unrelated news, if you love lunch at 11:30, and i know you do!, please help me win best personal blog in the baltimore sun mobbies competition. signing up takes about…5 seconds. and voting takes about the same! just click on the badge below and look for lunch at 11:30. you can vote once a day, every day! not to try to bribe you or anything, but i’ll totally send you leftover halloween candy if you vote for me. i promise it won’t have any needles in it. promise. and no raisins. i don’t believe in giving out raisins. or pennies. just candy. THANKS.

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how many shows do we need about new jersey?

YO! (the cast of jersey shore)

i mean, srsly, ppl. how many? and i am from jersey, so it’s not like i’m a hater but please!

it’d be one thing if the show painted my home state (granted i haven’t lived there in a long time but still) in a fairly positive light. but no. the women chosen for these “reality” shows all come off like loud-mouthed trash-talkin bee-atches (that are always unnaturally tan with unusually large hair) and the guys are roid-raging half the time, wear way too much hair gel–and are also unnaturally tan…with unusually large and startlingly stiff hair.

so, the shows: first we had bravo’s “the real housewives of new jersey,” which, i must admit, i have never actually watched b/c it looks like a total trainwreck and…i just can’t. i’ve seen enough of it in commercials and previews to know i just won’t like it and i’ll get disgusted and also feel embarrassed about my connection to the garden state. (i also get my one and only “housewives” fix via the nyc housewives, which, omg, i don’t know why but i love. holly does, too.)

[funny note: we were participating in a community yard sale/block party yesterday and we sold a coffee table to this one nice lady and her husband. she was new to the city (from md’s eastern shore) and of course i thought she said jersey shore b/c, as per usual, i wasn’t 100% paying attention) and i was like HEY I’M FROM JERSEY and once we cleared up the discrepancy, she said, “you know, i thought you were from new jersey. you look like a jersey girl. you look like that one girl from ‘the real housewives of new jersey.’ i forget her name. she’s cute but she’s mean.” i was like, “oh.” i still have no idea who she’s talking about and i don’t know how to feel about it. anyway, i digress.]

then we had mtv’s “jersey shore.” i’ve already talked a little about “jersey shore” here at lunch at 11:30, namely how huuuuge snookie’s hair is and how she must use bumpits to get it looking so…bulbous. that show’s like crack. you see it once and you have to watch the whole damn marathon (heaven forbid you get sucked into one of those). i’m not going to even get into “jersey shore,” b/c unless you live under a rock, you already know all about it.

and now we have the newest one: “jersey couture,” on oxygen, which is about–and i quote, from the oxygen website–a New Jersey family who runs one of the Garden State’s most sought-after destinations for extravagant women’s formal wear. The Scalis (aka Jersey’s First Family of Fashion) reveal how their tight-knit family manages to live and work together while running their glamorous, over-the-top dress shop, Diane & Co.

as my late grandmother would say: oy.

i’d like to know what you all think of the sudden influx of over-the-top jersey-based reality shows. i’m esp. interested in hearing from my jersey peeps. are they good, bad or just plain ugly??

jersey housewives: "no you DID'INT!"

"no YOU did'int!"

jersey couture: oh my gawd lookit awl those dresses

snookie must use Bumpits to get her hair that huge

NO YOU DID'INT! snookie from mtv's "jersey shore."

that’s what i’ve decided. if you don’t know who snookie is–that’s Snookie, capital S; she’s an actual person tho her nickname makes her sound like a…a cream-filled cookie or something–you must not watch “jersey shore,” the latest reality (i.e. “reality”) show from mtv. holly started watching repeats of it, then the new episodes, a few weeks ago and honestly, it’s like a train wreck. you can’t look away! if it’s on and you’re in earshot of the tv, you have to watch it. more on that in a bit.  

anyway, about that hair. it is. so. high. so high! i keep thinking that girl has *got* to be using Bumpits!  

have you heard of Bumpits? it’s this made-for-tv product to boost up your hair. (ok “boost” is an understatement. it makes your hair look like a small-to-medium sized rodent is nesting in it.) “hair volumizing inserts,” the website reads. “from flat to fabulous.”  

here are some photos for background:  

Bumpits: huge, happy hair. these are the inserts.

the result. i really have no words. (scratch "small-to-medium rodent nesting in hair." change to "raccoon and/or possum.")

anyway, i guess you see my point.  

so about the show. right, so i was all, “oh my gosh, HOLLY. how on EARTH can you watch that TRASH?!” and holly was like, “aw, c’mon babe! it’s awesome!” and then i got sucked into it merely by being near the tv while it was on and now i have to say it’s pretty damn fun. essentially, it’s about goin’ out, gettin tan, hookin up. also workin out. and doin’ hair.  

the cast was on the today show this morning, and they were like, yo, meredith, we’re just a buncha young people havin a good time and gettin tan and hookin up and doin our hair. as for negative stereotypes of italian-americans (ppl have been freaking out that the show perpetuates negative stereotypes about italian-americans), i have to say that if you think all italian-americans are like the kids on “jersey shore,” that’s pretty pathetic. i grew up with about 95 percent italian kids in north jersey (i love italians so much it’s like i’m half a person when they’re not around), and sure, some of them are “guidos” and “guidettes,” but speaking as someone jewish and gay (both minorities), yeah, a lot of jews are doctors and lawyers and sure, some gay women dress a little butch and some gay men may have feminine “affectations,” but not all us are and not all of us do. (plus i’ve met a fair share of guidos/guidettes that are far from italian.) so there’s my rant. get over it. it’s all in good fun.  

transitioning a little, the show has helped my relationship as it gives holly further insight into my cultural background.  

“babe, i’m really starting to understand you more,” she said after the show ended one night. i thought she was going to start a deep conversation. but no.  

 “those girls never shut up! they’re like ‘ba ba BA ba ba BA!’ [she made the universal one-hand-opening-and-closing-like-a-person-that-doesn’t-shut-up symbol as she said this. i kind of felt like slapping her hand down but i didn’t.] no wonder you never know when to stop. you’re a jersey girl!”  

 exactly. that’s what i’ve been trying to tell her all along! that’s my home state, ppl! CAN I GET A WHAT-WHAT! HOLLA!!!