And I’m one who cannot hold her liquor, apparently.

Since I’ve been feeling old lately (even though I’m not), two of my coworkers decided to take me out for a girls’ night last night. The evening started well, with delicious sushi and (three) rounds of sake cocktails. That was followed by dancing at my favorite, Cuban-themed bar and (three) more drinks (each).

Somewhere between my mojito and my blueberry gumdrop, the room started to spin. We made a “quick” exit and took a cab back to the sushi restaurant where my car was parked. As I was in no state to drive, my newly licensed coworker drove my newly purchased car back to my apartment. I crawled to the door, while my coworkers fumbled with my keys, trying to figure out which one was the door key. Once we made it in, they placed me on the couch and got one of their husbands to come pick them up.

I woke up about three hours later to my ex standing over me, horrified. I had thrown up everywhere (unbeknownst to me).

“You need to go shower,” he said, disgusted.

I was still extremely nauseous and quite drunk. I waved him away. “It’s okay. I’ll do it later,” I mumbled.

He paused and considered humoring my drunken stupidity. Then he came to his senses and dragged me off the couch and into the shower. Somehow, I managed not to drown. When I woke up, I was in my bed with the worst hangover I can remember. My jeans were in the laundry basket, but my ex had put my top into the trash. My Marc Jacobs top, to be exact. He said it was beyond repair. (I checked. It was.)

We spent Father’s Day today at the zoo looking at animals. Or, I should say, my ex and Gavin spent the day looking at animals. I spent the day following them around with a bottle of water in my hand wondering how long til we left and I could crawl back into bed.

So, with that update, I am off to rest. And by rest, I mean clean like a mad woman. Then I am driving to the airport to pick up my mother and grandmother, who are arriving this evening. It’s only going to get more interesting around here…

No, not the actual circus. Something far, far crazier than that - my mother and grandmother. For anyone who has not had the pleasure of interacting on a regular basis with loud, expressive Jewish women, let me provide some color for you.

My mother and grandmother are coming to visit for three days from the East Coast. I live on the West Coast. They don’t travel much, so the trip is a big deal. Let me start by saying that I *am* thankful to see them. That said, I am liable to go out of my mind during their stay.

Tonight, I was talking to my grandmother and was excited to tell her that we had a fully furnished, clean apartment for her and my mother to stay in while they are here. Her response was not “Thank you!” or “How thoughtful.” Rather, it was silence, followed by “Hmm. That’s interesting. I just figured we would be staying with you. I don’t know how much we’ll get to see you now.” Please bear in mind that I live in a 700 sq. ft. apartment and have no additional sleeping space. Please also bear in mind that the other apartment is literally 5 blocks away, max.

It reminded me of an email a coworker had sent me last week, describing “Hebronics.” It’s pretty long, but also pretty funny. I’ve posted it below:

The New York City Public Schools have officially declared Jewish English, now dubbed Hebronics, as a second language. Backers of the move say the city schools are the first in the nation to recognize Hebronics as a valid language and a significant attribute of American culture. According to Howard Shulman, linguistics professor at Brooklyn College and renowned Hebronics scholar, the sentence structure of Hebronics derives from middle and eastern European language patterns, as well as Yiddish. Professor Shulman explains, ‘In Hebronics, the response to any question is usually another question with a complaint that is either implied or stated.

Thus ‘How are you?’ may be answered, ‘How should I be, with my bad feet?’ Shulman says that Hebronics is a superb linguistic vehicle for expressing sarcasm or scepticism. An example is the repetition of a word with ’sh’ or ’shm’ at the beginning: ‘Mountains, shmountains. Stay away. You should want a nosebleed?’

Another Hebronics pattern is moving the subject of a sentence to the end, with its pronoun at the beginning: ‘It’s beautiful, that dress.’ Shulman says one also sees the Hebronics verb moved to the end of the sentence. Thus the response to a remark such as ‘He’s slow as a turtle,’ could be: ‘Turtle, shmurtle! Like a fly in Vaseline he walks.’ Shulman provided the following examples from his best-selling textbook, Switched-On Hebronics:

Question: ‘What time is it?’
English answer: ‘Sorry, I don’t know.’
Hebronic response: ‘What am I, a clock?’

Remark: ‘I hope things turn out okay.’
English answer: ‘Thanks.’
Hebronic response: ‘I should be so lucky!’

Remark: ‘Hurry up. Dinner’s ready.’
English answer: ‘Be right there.’
Hebronic response: ‘Alright already, I’m coming. What’s with the ‘hurry’ business? Is there a fire?’

Remark: ‘I like the tie you gave me; I wear it all the time.’
English answer: ‘Glad you like it.’
Hebronic response: ‘So what’s the matter; you don’t like the other ties I gave you?’

Remark: ‘Sarah and I are engaged.’
English answer: ‘Congratulations!’
Hebronic response: ‘She could stand to lose a few pounds.’

Question: ‘Would you like to go riding with us?’
English answer: ‘Just say when.’
Hebronic response: ‘Riding, shmiding! Do I look like a cowboy?’

To the guest of honour at a birthday party:
English answer: ‘Happy birthday.’
Hebronic response: ‘A year smarter you should become.’

Remark: ‘It’s a beautiful day.’
English answer: ‘Sure is.’
Hebronic response: ‘So the sun is out; what else is new?’

Answering a phone call from a son:
English answer: ‘It’s been a while since you called.’
Hebronic response: ‘You didn’t wonder if I’m dead already?’

Nordstrom is hands down my absolute favorite company when it comes to customer service. They are the gold standard for how to treat your customers. Nordstrom will let their customers return anything, no questions asked. Seriously, you can return anything. Previously worn shoes, half-eaten sandwiches, whatever you want. They’ll take it back. Once, they failed to get me a Marc Jacobs top that I ordered by the promised date (it arrived a day late) and so Nordstrom gave me the $200 tank for FREE.

On the other end of the spectrum, you have Comcast. Can other companies puh-lease enter this market so that I have a choice and therefore Comcast has to actually pretend like they respect their customers in order to keep business?

I recently signed up for cable and high-speed Internet. The sales woman on the phone told me it would be $70 to install and then $80 per month. While I cringed at that price, it was still lower than what they were charging other people for the exact same service. ‘Fine,’ I thought. ‘I have a two-year old and never leave my house. I’ll go mad without cable or Internet.’ So I scheduled installation.

I was going to be at work when Comcast came down to install, but my ex said he’d be home. I told Comcast I would have someone else at home and gave them his phone number to call. (Which served no purpose, since they still called *me* upon arrival.)

I got home that day to both my cable and internet working. ‘Wow,’ I thought. For once, Comcast had not screwed up!

Then I saw the bill.

“$322 will be billed for installation on your first statement.”

Um, excuse me?? I dialed Comcast so quickly my fingers nearly cramped up. The customer service woman I got on the phone was decently apologetic, so I decided to spare her my wrath. “I don’t know how this could have happened,” she said, not sounding as surprised as I would have liked. “It should never be this much.”

It wasn’t a typo, either, since all the supposed items were listed in hand-written detail (with prices) on the bill the installation guy had left behind.

And what if I hadn’t called or bothered to examine the bill before paying? It just frustrates me that I need to assume either: 1) I can’t trust this company (yet have limited options for switching providers) or 2) They are so careless that I have to check every single bill they send me for errors.

They should take a note from Nordstrom with regard to how they treat customers. And if they are so inclined to send me a free Marc Jacobs top, that wouldn’t be half-bad either.