Ernő Rubik, you are delicious!

I kept telling my sister that I was going to make her the Lionel Richie bust from his "Hello" video in cake form for her birthday:


I was joking, of course, because I'm less Ace of Cakes and more Ace of Base.

I did make her an unassuming looking cake from the outside with an 80's surprise on the inside, though. Seeing her face when she cut into it and realized that it was a Rubik's Cube was really fun!







Happy birthday, Missy!

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By the time you read this, I'll already be there.

In 2008, I went with some BFFs on an annual October trip to Key West, Florida. You can read about that and my childhood (and continuing) love for a Bertie Higgins song by clicking HERE.

We had plans to do many things on the trip, meeting up with Irish Peter being at the top of the list. (In 2007, the girls made fast friends with Irish Peter--a nickname they bestowed upon him because his name is Peter and he is, in fact, Irish. He is also funny, charming, hot, a good time, has an accent and did I mention that he's hot?--who at the time was working as the bartender on the booze cruise they were boozin' it up on.) We went to a bar he was working at and all of the boxes on the list of reasons men make my heart race were checked off. We had a great time, and at some point in the night we were in the parking lot behind the bar so he could record my outgoing voicemail greeting. This greeting has confused and possibly irritated every straight guy who has ever called me, because the combination of Irish Peter's accent and the speed at which he's talking makes it difficult for people to understand. Every female and gay guy who has ever called me has given it RAVE reviews, though. They usually say that they can't understand a thing he says but the accent makes it sexy anyway. You should give it a listen:

My outgoing voicemail greeting: Irish Peter by HouseofJules

"How's it goin'? Jules isn't here right now; she's out in Key West picking some spuds and lookin' for me Lucky Charms. If you can leave a message, she'll be glad to get back to you as soon as she can. I'll be talkin' to ya and have a wonderful day!"


Friends have called me multiple times in a day just to hear that voicemail greeting.


I wasn't able to go on the trip with the girls this year, but my BFF Jen let Irish Peter use her phone because he was missing me (duh) and he also wanted to hear himself as my voicemail greeting. I had to switch it out for a generic greeting recently because I'm looking for a new job and don't want potential employers to hear him and assume they've gotten the wrong number! The message he left me is one for the books:

He REALLY is a gift by HouseofJules

"Jules, I'm kinda sad. I was expecting to hear myself in your phone! We're calling you here from Key West; you might recognize my voice! Happy birthday! Apparently, we have your birthday present here. I'm wrapped up in a bow; you've gotta come down and get me..."

(It's so funny hearing my girls "Oh my God!"-ing as he hands Jen's phone back to her. So. Funny.)

I made the mistake of listening to that message at work, and then I listened to it again. And again (and again). Wrapped in a bow? Come down and get you? YES, PLEASE.


Then, I switched from the generic outgoing greeting I was using to the one he recorded with me, just so he could call back and hear it. This is his reaction:

Rosetta Stone by HouseofJules

"You need to put subtitles on your message, 'cause I can't even understand that and I actually said it! I need to get Rosetta Stone and get my english a little better there. I'm having technical difficulties! Thanks for putting it back on, you're the best!"


Funny, charming, hot, a good time, hot, has an accent, is wrapped in a bow for my birthday and all I have to do is go get him? Twist my arm.

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

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Hell, I still love you New York

If you were looking at a CT scan of my heart, this is what you'd see:


Photo ©HouseofJules


On a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer in the mid-90's, alone (in the sense of being by yourself in a place with 7 million other people, which is possibly more alone than you could ever imagine), but excited after having relocated to the place in which I wanted to live ever since I was a kid; fresh off the train in the underground part of Penn Station, doing a trial run to see how long it would take me to get from my new apartment to my new job in my new city. I had a map in my back pocket and knew the address of the graphic design firm I was to start working at the following week, but had no idea how to get myself from where I was to where I needed to be.

All the anticipatory stress I felt about that had been weighing heavily on my mind since I'd unpacked the week before--if not for the entirety of the 6 months I worked after college just to save up for my big move to my new apartment in my new city-- faded away like white noise in the background as I rode one of the escalators up from lower earth to the sidewalk, and the gigantic skyscrapers on 34th street were revealed to me at a slow-boat-to-China rate of speed; my line of vision directed first at their massive entryways, and going up, up, up, and up, trying to take in all the floors of the buildings and the realization of how small I was in comparison, as I was lifted towards street-level.

It was forced acclimation through sensory overload.

I was able to be still, standing on the right side of those electric stairs, while moving upward and gaping at the buildings, smelling the food being cooked at street carts, hearing the roar of traffic and horns, people hustling and bustling; while my heart was thumping louder than ever, welcoming me home. Finally.

Some people leave their hearts in San Francisco. Even before I actually lived there, mine resided in New York.

If you were listening to my heartbeat through a stethoscope, this song is what you'd hear:

Ryan Adams. New York, New York
Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July
I had a firecracker waiting to blow
Breakin' like a rocket who was makin' its way
To the cities of Mexico
Lived in an apartment out on Avenue A
I had a tar-hut on the corner of 10th
Had myself a lover who was finer than gold
But I've broken up and busted up since

And love don't play any games with me
Anymore like she did before
The world won't wait, so I better shake
That thing right out there through the door
Hell, I still love you, New York

Found myself a picture that would fit in the folds
Of my wallet and it stayed pretty good
Still amazed I didn't lose it on the roof of the place
When I was drunk and I was thinking of you
Every day the children they were singing their tune
Out on the streets and you could hear from inside
Used to take the subway up to Houston and 3rd
I would wait for you and I'd try to hide

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York

I remember Christmas in the blistering cold
In a church on the upper west side
Babe, I stood there singing, I was holding your arm
You were holding my trust like a child
Found a lot of trouble out on Avenue B
But I tried to keep the overhead low
Farewell to the city and the love of my life
At least we left before we had to go

And love won't play any games with you
Anymore if you don't want 'em to
So we better shake this old thing out the door

I'll always be thinkin' of you
I'll always love you though New York
I'll always love you though New York, New York, New York

-

Luckily, I made some g r e a t friends there who give me an excuse, if I need one, to visit my heart at least once a year.

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Putting the Hump in Humpday: Yiddish Edish

Ryan Gosling is everything*. Need I say more? I think not.

But, I will anyway.

You either very much agree with me that he is everything or you don't**. I'm not going to sit here and try to sell you on Ryan Gosling. In his latest movie, "Crazy, Stupid, Love" (or as I call it, "Crazy, Stupid, Hot Ass Love"), he uses a certain Yiddish word several times. Each time, it sounds natural, as if it's part of his everyday vocabulary. He totally pulls it off. You can trust me on this because I've seen the movie twice already (and I did it FOR MY COUNTRY***).

Related:





*Not EVERYTHING-everything. Just everything. You know what I'm saying.

**Admittedly, Ryan Gosling isn't for everyone:

***Please, please click that hotlink. You won't be sorry.

To read previous Putting the Hump in Humpday posts, click HERE. Do it for your country.

Here's the "Crazy, Stupid, Hot Ass Love" trailer in case you've been living under a rock:


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Gentlemen, to bed!

I love anyone who can make me laugh my face off, and Steve Coogan is one of those people. If you don't know who Steve Coogan is, but you enjoy British humor, you should get busy acquainting yourself with everything he's ever done. He's currently making the rounds doing interviews for The Trip, his film with Rob Brydon made from their improvised BBC show of the same name, starring fictionalized versions of themselves.

Here is a brief description from the wiki page:

"In an effort to impress his gourmand American girlfriend, Misha, Steve Coogan has accepted a commission from The Observer newspaper to go on a restaurant tour of the north of England. However, when Misha (who was meant to accompany him on the trip) insists that they take a break from their relationship and returns to America, Steve is forced to invite colleague and friend-of-sorts Rob Brydon.
Throughout the series the two constantly bicker and attempt to undermine and outdo each other, especially in the presence of any attractive women they encounter. Steve has a number of one-night stands but is increasingly revealed to be in a rut both professionally and personally: at one point – as Steve gets stuck attempting to cross a river using a series of stepping stones – Rob shouts out to him, "You're stuck in a metaphor!"
The competitive atmosphere between the two is occasionally broken by passages of amicable and spontaneous comic improvisation, with each riffing off the other's ideas."

I tweeted this after hearing Steve interviewed on NPR:


I was at work when this interview aired, so it was both incredible and awful to laugh like that at my desk, especially since the main part of our office is open-plan. I literally started sweating from laughing so hard. Imagine my delight and surprise when I found the exact clip on YouTube. Thanks, internet! Now I can share it with you here! Watch this immediately:

"They always say something like, Gentlemen, to bed! For we leave at first light. Tomorrow we battle and we may lose our lives. But remember, death is but a moment. Cowardice is a lifetime of affliction. To bed, for we rise at daybreak! They always leave at daybreak. They never leave at, you know, 9:30. Gentlemen, to bed! For we leave at 9:30. Ish. Gentlemen, to bed, for we rise at...what time is the battle? Around 12 o'clock? 12 o'clock, on horseback? About 3 hours? So, we leave about 8? 8:30? Gentlemen, to bed! For we leave at 8:30, for 9. And we rise at...just after daybreak...7:30. Gentlemen, to bed! For we leave at 9:30 ON THE DOT. ON THE DOT. To bed! Tomorrow, we rise, we leave at 10-ish. But now, to bed. Unless, you are one of those people, like me, who finds it very hard to get off after he's eaten cheese. In which case, stay awhile by the fire! Talk of battles past and old. And then, and only then sire, go thee to bed, and sleep well. Sleep the sleep of 1,000 martyrs. Sleep well, my brother. Sleep well, my brother. Sleep well, my sister. But please, do not sleep with my sister. Leave my sister out of it, alright? Leave my sister alone. Don't touch her! Gentlemen, to bed! For at daybreak, we will breakfast. Sire, 'tis a continental breakfast. It will only take 20 minutes max...."

I mean, I can't even breathe because I'm laughing too hard and I've watched this clip 10 times in the past 2 days. Love. Since I've never seen the show and didn't even KNOW it was a show until Josh informed me (thanks, Wilty!), I'm counting the minutes until I see this movie.

Here's the official trailer:

When they have the Michael Caine impression-off, I cry laughing. When Coogan does his Alan Partridge "Ah haaaa!", I die. If you like Brit humor, but have never seen his Alan Partridge series, get on it.
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To let him go, wherever he needs to go

...but not spend spend the rest of my life waiting for his lips to return.



"I wish the answers were in a relationship book. I wish reading that book would be all that I needed."
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Psssst!

Until I get back in the swing of full-form blogging, you can read what I've been writing at my secret spot by clicking HERE. There's already 50-something posts over there! You didn't want to get any work done today anyway, right?

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