One Stack of Sh*t Away From an Episode of Hoarders…

I cannot wait until Matt and I don’t have to live like hoarders anymore.

Let me explain…

Living in Grenada in married student housing is, well, interesting.  It makes a tiny studio apartment living in Manhattan look like a palace compared to this.  Basically we have no oven, only two burners, one teeny tiny table that’s not even big enough for two people to eat on, no counter space whatsoever, a tiny sink that fits about two dishes, thankfully a microwave at the least, and to sum it up, we basically sleep 7 feet away from where we cook.  Ugh.

There is literally no closet space or storage space either, for that matter.  In our bathroom, we don’t even have one shelf, so all of our bathroom stuff is either piled in our closets or on Matt’s desk.  Yeah, we’ve been pretty much living like two college freshman roomies for the past two years.

It’s seriously gotten to a point, where recently I was flipping through television stations (Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, we actually don’t have a TV either <–no room for one, but thankfully we have Slingbox on our computers), and I passed an episode of Hoarders, and it seriously hit a little too close to home.  My forehead began to sweat, and I realized…(hint: read below…)

Seriously.

It’s time to face the music, and come to terms with this fact.  When people come to our apartment for the first time, they usually all say the same thing, which is, “Why do you guys have so much stuff???  You’re living in Grenada, just deal with not having all your normal stuff for a while!”  However, for Matt and I, that is not an option.  <–Insert a Bwaaaahhhaaaahaaaa Bwaaaahaaaaa laugh right here, to personify just how completely ludicrous an option like that is to us.  If you knew us, than you would know that we are two people who some might call “characters,” and we’re also pretty stuck in our ways.  We’re both very particular about the things we like, and we’d rather live like hoarders, than not have all of our favorite stuff.  Yeah, we’re pretty irrational people.

However, I must say, that I’m happy we both prefer to live this way, because if I was the only one like that, then Matt might complain to his friends that he married a crazy hoarder lady, and that would be really bad, don’t ya think?!

On another side note, we are so much alike in other ways, too, that it’s downright scary.  For instance, we both get on what I like to call a “food fixation kick,” which is when we decide we like something, and then that is literally all we eat for about 3-12 months, until one day we eat it, and then we decide that we’re over it.  I’ve never met anyone else who does that besides me in my life!  Let me give you an example of some of my food fixation kicks:  Healthy Choice minestrone soup (lasted about 6 months), Oreo O’s cereal (about 11 months when I was 19), Special K with Red Berries cereal (12 months), Santa Fé Rice and Beans Lean Cuisine (5 months), and generic brand Bran Flakes cereal (5 months).  Matt’s food fixations:  Potato Buds (from what I’m told this lasted about 12 months), Mrs. T’s Potato and Onion Pierogi’s (still going), chocolate chip granola bars (6 months), spinach (still going), and also generic brand Bran Flakes cereal (about 6 months).  I know, I know, we’re kind of a couple of weirdo’s, especially with the generic bran flakes…P.S.  One time we went to the grocery store and bought their entire supply of bran flakes, and everyone looked at us like we were totally nuts.

Okay, so that had absolutely nothing to do with living like hoarders, but it shows how much alike we are, so there.

I just wanted to share one example of our hoarders situation…

See what I mean? P.S. This is my closet organized.

I could show you more, but it might just make you tense.  For example we have to keep some of our non-perishable food in suitcases because we have no room to store it in the cupboards, but you didn’t want to see that, did you?

Luckily, we only have about two more months living here, and then it’s back to the United States, so Matt can take his Step 1 exam and begin his clinical rotations.  I really hope our next apartment has a dishwasher, or at the very least, a big enough sink that I can at least wash a pot in comfortably.  I’m really just looking forward to being back on American soil, because sometimes living here makes me feel as though I’m living on Gilligan’s Island, but without The Skipper, Gilligan, Mr. and Mrs. Howell, and Maryann. <–Did you notice that I left out Ginger and The Professor?  It’s because that’s who Matt and I would be.

Hey Prof...What's shakin'?

Anyway, when we are finally back in the U.S. I am really looking forward to some frozen yogurt, McDonald’s, a Starbucks mocha-coconut frappuccino light w/no whip, a decent mani and pedi, perhaps a shopping spree at Forever 21, and a meal at Rosa Mexicano with double guac.  I haven’t had any of these things in so long, and I kind of feel like I’m losing my marbles.

The good news is that we are flying back to New York Rock City on my freaking birthday, December 10th!  Can you believe it?!  Soon after we’re back, we will start looking for apartments wherever Matt gets placed for clinicals, and I cannot wait for the new and exciting prospects.

But more than anything else, I am looking forward to not living like hoarders anymore.

Hip hip hooray!

~The End

Photos from IMDB and someecards.com

Part 3: Stories from the Good Ship Lollipop…The End…

Continued from Part 2…

Part 3:

I went back to see That Old Wench one last time, and I hoped we would be besties.  False.  I just hoped she wasn’t going to make me cry, but being as though I already had my “cry face” on (aka; The cry-face is the face you get when you are trying not to cry, but everyone else can totally tell you’re going to bust), I had a bad feeling this was not going to end well, and it didn’t.  The last thing That Old Wench told me right before I left to go to the biggest audition of my life was…get ready for it, get ready…ready?

She said, “You’re not going to get this part.”  She just plainly looked at me like I was a piece of dust on her coffee table, and the words seemed to effortlessly spill from her mouth. That is literally all she said.  I sat there on that same dusty couch I had sat on for the last two days, and I was stunned.  Never one to be at a loss for words, I was completely dumbfounded, but I wasn’t sunk yet. I wasn’t about to cry (even though I had my cry face on), because That Old Wench was not going to get one tear out of me.  That Old Wench can go blow.

I arrived at the audition nervous, but more excited than anything else.  I put the words of That Old Wench in the back of my mind, and I was feeling good.  As I walked through the doors I was not ready for what I was about to see.  I saw at least ten little heads all ‘a chop complete with bangs and bobs and in the Mary Lennox hairdo.  Oh my God, I think I just hallucinated…Was this really happening?? Why, yes, yes it was.  It was my worst nightmare realized, and coming to me in the form of bangs and bobs.  Why me?  Why meeeeeee??? (<–FYI; To this day, I still can’t stand to see this haircut.  When Katie Holmes got the bangs and bob, I had to look away for at least six months.) I don’t know if it was That Old Wench’s words coming back with full force, or if it was that I was psyched out by all the little bangs and bobs invading my personal space, but I began to feel really discomBOBulated <–No pun intended.

I waited outside the audition room for my turn, and I suddenly loathed my dumb beret(<–FYI; To this day I can’t listen to Raspberry Beret by Prince.) Just when the bangs and bobs were about to undoubtedly drive me straight over the edge…

My name was called by a girl with a clipboard, “Sarah Barkoff?”

“Yes, here,” I said and got up and went into the audition room.

I was nervous walking into the room, that had at least eight people sitting at a long table staring at me wondering if I was their Mary Lennox, but escaping the bangs and bob room from hell, seemed to do wonders for my nerve.  I was asked to do my first song, and then go straight into the dialogue, which I did, and I felt like everything was falling into place. It wasn’t until the beginning of my second song, that the audition began to take a turn for the worse.

The woman in the first seat all the way to the left said, “Okay Sarah, now can you do the same line, but do it a little more perturbed?”  She said this as she talked to me like a baby.  Awkward.

Okay lady, WHAT THE EF does ‘perturbed’ mean??!! I’m 11, you crazy broad(<–inner thoughts and feelings…)  I started to panic, and think about That Old Wench’s last words to me.  And for some odd reason, I don’t know why, but all I could think of was the little blond girl from the picture in That Old Wench’s apartment, with her cool jean jacket on.  I thought to myself, “Laura Bell Bundy wouldn’t blow this audition…Laura would never show up in a dumb beret, she would have gotten the bangs and bob…Laura. Would. Get. The. Part.”  Except little did I know, Laura wouldn’t have gotten the part, because the part wasn’t for a blondie, it was for a brunette-ie.  Oh, little did my 11-year-old self know…

“Okay, sure,” I said as I proceeded to do the same line the exact same way, because I had no clue what the ef ‘perturbed’ meant.

“Okay Sarah, thank you very much.  We will let your agent know when we have made a decision,” said the woman in the first seat all the way to the left.

For those of you who don’t know, those exact words, nothing more, nothing less, is basically the kiss of death in showbiz.  I knew it was over the second I heard the dreadful, “Okay Sarah, thank you very much.”  Usually if there is a chance of sealing the deal, there will be more dialogue between the auditionee and auditioner, and inquiring about the logistics of accepting the role, but really at 11-years-old, I figured as much because they never asked to speak with my mom or dad afterward.  So, I knew.

And I was right.  I didn’t get the part.  The casting people told my agent that they actually really did like me, but that I looked too mature for the role, and they wanted a little girl who had a younger look, so all in all, I just wasn’t right for the part. (P.S. Thank God I didn’t cut my hair!  Thanks Ma!)  When all was said and done, I went home to Michigan, and did not go back to New York City for any auditions for the next 8 years.  However, my dream of playing  Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden did come true about a year later.  I played the part in a professional production of the show in Ann Arbor, MI, and the best part was, I still got to be a normal kid and stay put in Michigan with my family.  I still think leaving New York when I did was the best decision I ever made, and I am happy that I was able to have all the normal experiences a kid should have, and that I had a chance to just blend in with my peers for while.

The End…Just kidding!  Are you crazy?  I’m not about to not give you a follow-up on everyone involved in this story!

First things first…

That Old Wench:  Well, apparently That Old Wench is alive and kicking (I googled her), and likely still making other little girls cry.  I would tell you her name, and show you a picture of her, but then I would have to kill you.  Just kidding, but I don’t want to get sued for slander!  Hint:  I will tell you that she recently wrote a way famous screenplay, with a way famous lead actress in the lead role, based on a popular book and blog. 

Next we have…Laura Bell Bundy…

Remember this classy little broad?

Laura Bell Bundy is now a way famous country singer, so apparently I had an eye for talent. P.S. Love me some big hair, too, Laura.

And then there's me. I'm not famous or anything, but I'm happy. Hooray.

Photos courtesy of candistar.com and laurabellbundyfans.com

 

 

 

 

To Hawaii with L-O-V-E…

Just wanted to share a few pics from my honeymoon in Hawaii before too much time goes by, and then it’s just old news bears…

Got a huge craving for sush while in Kauai. This meal sprung a raw tuna binge that went on for two straight weeks and the rest of our honeymoon. Note: Look at my expression...This is the face of someone who needed to be fed asap. I turn into a little devil when I'm hungry.

We want on a helicopter ride in Kauai, and I wanted to die. Wait, no I didn't want to die, I wanted to live, and that's why I was scared sh*tless! I was basically peeing myself at right about this moment.

View from above while Enya was playing. No, I'm not kidding. The pilot was really playing Enya, and I kind of enjoyed it...But shhhhhh....And he even spoke in that smooth listening radio voice, which prompted Matt to ask later, "Why do all pilots talk in that easy listening voice??" He's totally right.

Solid ground, I love you.

At the Kauai coffee plantation. Matt wanted a bite of the action.

I was trying to look like I was emerging from the coffee beans...

But then I realized the branches had a weird sticky coating. Fail.

Matt mothering a baby octi. Cute.

I got whipped in the face with sand. Guess I can skip my weekly exfoliation. Sweet.

In Maui at the Old Lahaina Luau soliciting a lil kiss from the Tiki Man.

View from dinner on the beach in Maui...beauticious.

Dinner at Kauai Grill. Please take a moment to notice Mr. 007 himself in the background. Yes, we took this pic for the sole purpose of getting Pierce Brosnan lurking in the shadows.

We splurged for a private cabana for our last day in Kauai. Right here I am laughing at something Matt said. He's a regular ol' comedienne, that Moo-Moo.

Everywhere we went in Maui, they gave me flowers to put in my huuuuur. Love u, Maui.

P.S. I just realized that this post has a ton of pics of just moi…I prom I’m not vain.  I only have the pics from Matt’s cam on my computer in Grenada, because I left my cam in NY<–Tear:'(  So maybe more pics later?