Nikki Yeager

I'm not sure if I mentioned this but the other day my boss got high on enthusiasm for reaching a huge milestone in our company and *BAM* in his delirious state, bought everyone iPads.

... or at least that's how I explain the iPad gifts. Everyone else thinks he just really, really appreciates us all helping make that particular milestone possible.

Meh. To each his own.

Anyways, the point is that I have an iPad 2 (which I never would have purchased myself for that insanely high price) and I actually really like it. Granted, it is pointless for a ton of stuff. However, for a free gift it's great to do work on when in transit and it has a Free Books app that lets me read over 1k literary classics. I'm currently on The Rainbow by Lawrence and I'm -surprisingly- loving every minute of it.

That being said there is one teeny, eensy problem with being gifted an iPad. The case.

The $60+ case.

Without a case, that pretty little screen is pretty much useless because any time you toss it into a messy purse, you end up with tiny little scratches all over the screen. And those tiny little scratches make reading D. H. Lawrence utterly unbearable.

So I've set out to make my own case in about 10 minutes with the materials laying around my house: Superglue, an old dress, paper and pretty colored rubber bands.

This is what I ended up with:

Overall, it's sort of crappy. The edges are wrinkly and the glue made weird little wrinkles on the top left hand corner. STILL, compared to buying a 60 dollar case, I think this is a great 10 minute, free solution.

And yes, it might look like a two year old got a hold of the craft drawer, but I'm still darn proud of my creation.

It's official. The pregnancy bug is contagious. After two births, a planned pregnancy and a miracle pregnancy.. my office is permanently contaminated with a harsh virus.

It's call the baby virus and it's recently claimed another victim - my coworker Rachael. Now the remaining un-wed girls in the office are having nervous breakdowns once a month and we're all considering buying BuildingLink chastity belts. It's clearly something in the water.

Which is why I was forced to add us running from the pregnancy scare in my office portrait. Hope it makes you smile

So I've decided that it's time I really let you all into my life. I'm talking about the deepest, most private, secretive part of my life....

My desk at BuildingLink.

I know I used to post about my eccentric coworkers at reco (who I loved dearly and still do) but I never quite found a way to post about my new job.

So here we go....

I sit at a desk in the little training area of our office. Behind my desk is a white board.. that I've used to creatively render every one of my coworkers with brightly colored markers.

Meet Pam. She's well known for her "Pam Roll," the little scoot-scoot motion she uses to get from one side of the training square to the other.



Here's Andrew. He eats 4-5 bananas within a matter of 5 minutes, at least 3 times a week before going to karate classes after work. And no, I'm not kidding.




Speaking of odd eating habits, here's a little snippet about one of my favorite people, Sharmi. Sharmi weighs about 10 lbs... when wet. And this girl literally eats 10 hershey candies at one time. She's completely indiscriminate about what goes in her belly (aside from leafy green veggies... she strongly opposes those) and is the queen of all things food in NYC. Here's my creative interpretation of Sharmi in her natural habitat:



Last but not least, we have the pregnant girls. I've already been at BuildingLink long enough to see one baby and one grandchild born. Now we have about 2 months until two of our trainers pop out their first babies. My boss is convinced it's something in the water... which is why I only drink bottled at work.



There you have it. BuildingLink on a white board.

I've been waiting for Easter for about a month now. Why? Because that little Christian holiday with the big personified bunny and the oddly colored eggs is as foreign to my boyfriend as Borsch is to me. He's never celebrated an Easter, never dyed an egg and never heard "Peter Cottontail" or a church hymn.

In fact, he's completely confused about the whole ordeal about eating chocolate rabbit shaped candies in order to celebrate a savior rising from the dead.

Which is understandable if you really sit down and think about it. 

That being said, I dragged him to my Aunt and Uncle's house for his very first Easter experience complete with baskets, eggs, chocolate and plastic-grass-basket-filling... all the makings of a real holiday!

.......

First on the list of activities when we got up to my Aunt's house was Easter egg dyeing. So I grabbed some vinegar, dye and boiling water from my Aunt and led the procession of relatives to the dining room. As I mixed colors together for the perfect dye-to-water ration, my cousins and their significant others stood around me paying a little too much attention to my every move.

With everything set I gave the OK and stood back, ready for a stampede of dyers.

Except for the fact that no one moved.

So I waited.

And so did everyone else.

Finally I broke the silence: "So who wants to go first?"

Daniel spoke up with a helpless puppy expression on his face: "Ummm... how does this work?"

And everyone leaned forward a little for my reply.

Me: Brushing it off as him being strangely uninformed, "hehehehe, this is his first Easter!!!"

Five other husbands-of-cousins chimed in at once, almost jumping at the opening, "Me too!"

And there I was, having Easter with 10 Jews who have never done Easter before.

Which is probably one of the more ridiculous situations to find oneself in. So me and my cousin broke down the situation for everyone and gave a fabulous egg dyeing information session.

And later that day we sat at our festive dinner table with our painstakingly colored eggs, Turkey, pasta salad....
And matzo on the side (in honor of Passover, of course!).

Here's a little collection of all the fun Easter stuff I found online. Hope you enjoy!!

1. JC & the Gang eCard by JibJab:
One of my favorites for Easter... but they have plenty of passover greetings for all my Torah-worshippin' friends too!  And if you go to the site, you might as well check out Bunny Attack as well. Totally worth it.


2. Monty Python and the Holy Grail's Killer Bunny:
Only the best use of a bunny in cinematic history. Ever.

3. The History of Easter by cracked.com:
Just a jolly little history.

"Later on, according to Christians, God was listening to his heavy metal albums and decided to have a different version of Passover in which the lamb would be God. So during a Passover around 30 AD Jesus was crucified, much to the delight of Mel Gibson. This event is remembered on Good Friday, which was presumably named by Satan. Easter Sunday celebrates his resurrection three days later.

Somewhere along the line, these remembrances of pain, blood and suffering became associated with chocolate, which in some ways wasn't that bad."

4. Eggshellland in Lyndhurst, OH:
For all my Cleveland friends - I have not forgotten about you. In fact, I'm jealous you can claim home in a state that displays "40,180 real eggshells displayed as hot air balloons and characters from the movie, "Up.""
I want to go!!!

NOT APPROPRIATE FOR PEOPLE UNDER 18!!!
.... As if that every stopped anyone.

Here are all my pictures from my MoSex visit.

Boobies!


Fascinating exhibit of Michael Sullivan's "Sex Life of Robots". Even more interesting than the actual sculpture pieces was the video interview playing on the screen next to the display. He's certainly a character.


One of the only items in the entire museum that wasn't centered on pornography alone. Unfortunately there was no placard with S&M information, history and intracacies. Instead, there was one mannequin in this uncomfortable looking getup:


Funny naked men. Feel free to giggle.


Marge Simpson makes her Playboy debut!


Screw Magazine covers... some of my favorite in the museum because they're funny. And just plain odd.


Annnnnddddd that'sall folks!

Riding mechanical bulls. That's just how I roll during trade shows. Especially during the evening party at a Texas Apartment Association show. And of course, only when the owner of my company's son is along for the ride.

That's when I decide to drag random folks to the dance floor to line dance and gladly hop on the mechanical bull.

And what's a bull ride without the appropriate bull-riding face? Which, if you didn't know, consists of 4 chins, squinted eyes and a half grimace/half grin. Double points if you keep your hand in the air for the ride.



Videos coming late tonight or tomorrow/

These are all real pictures from today when I was surfing my little booty off on Rockaway Beach.

Here's me and a random guy who was surfing with us (I'm only including this picture because it's the only one I don't look completely disheveled in.. surfing is not for pretty girls.)

Me and my friend Andrea, who is farrrr better in the water than I am. And far braver for not considering bailing out at the last minute. Swimming in the freezing cold scared my pants right off.

From left to right: Andrea, me, random surfer guy and our Surfing Guru.

I swear to God I'm not lying about this next picture. THIS is what I was surfing in. Honest to Goodness....
Of course I was hopping on my board only a sad 10 feet or so from the shore. Not where that monster wave is looking to wreak havoc.

And this is a depiction of how I actually looked surfing:

After finally combating the curse of the stye, I managed to contract a non-contagious skin disease that may or may not be caused by a virus and apparently has no cure.

It all happened when I first sprouted a patch that looked something like ringworm. About a week later the "ringworm" grew a bunch of friends on my belly and decided to host a party on my back.

Before long I was covered in itchy, scratchy, peeling red spots all over my mid section. Finally I admitted to myself it probably wasn't ringworm.

Turns out I came down with something called pityriasis rosea - something that can spread all over your limbs and last up to a nauseating.....

SIX MONTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I took to the dermatology forums and scoured every corner of the internet for anything that would stop the itching. Anything that would stop this disgusting virus' forward march down my arms and legs. Anything that would help me fall asleep at night without digging little canyons in my skin from the incessant scratching.

And after a week of searching I stumbled across an unexpected solution - UV treatments (otherwise known as frying yourself in a cancer causing tanning bed until you burn the virus out off your skin).

At that point another hour of itching was going to make me slam my head against a wall and rip my skin off just to stop the torture. So I ran off to a tanning salon with my one-free-tan coupon and hoped with all my might this wasn't just a crazy man's imaginary cure.

Three tans later I've managed to burn that bast**d out of my body. I may have lost some skin in the process and I could, quite possibly, have caused myself skin cancer...BUT I am winning the war.

I'm now a few spots away from being pityriasis free and am unfortunately radiating UV rays from my over-tanned skin and sporting an unsightly shade of orange. 

Think the Jersey Shore would accept me now?

Yesterday I made the trek into Manhattan with a friend. We walked down the 86th St. station stairs and onto the platform. With my friend trailing behind me, I sped up to an invisible spot neatly placed between the 4th and 5th poles on the platform and then came to a dead stop.

He gave me a weird look and then let it go.

A few minutes later I realized I probably looked insane to any casual observer. But , there is an art to riding the R train, especially in the monring when you have to fight 1,987 other Brooklyners for one of the few available seats. So just in case anyone ever makes their way to Bay Ridge I figured I'd share my hard-earned knowledge.

1. 86th St. is the 2nd stop on the train and the last stop with any seats available. So I've measure the exact distance from the stairs to each of the train doors. Once descending the 100 year old greasy stairs, park yourself immediately after the 2nd pole or in between the 4th and 5th pole. You'll know which ones these are by counting... or by looking for the group of 10 people who are all huddled together thinking they're smarter than everyone else. And yes, I always think so too when the train pulls up and I'm standing directly in front of a door.

2. Once the doors open I usually speed-walk to the most desirable seat without making eye contact with anyone. If you catch the eye of an older person, you'll have to slow down out of guilt. I solved that problem by looking at my feet and making a bee line for my favorite seat. 

As for favorite seats, I've figured that out too after many a morning of trial and error.

Why are the yellow seats so awesome? Because the corner seats have a magical forcefield protecting any sitter from smelly armpits, wet umbrellas and lack of wiggle room. No one can fit in front of you (there's another bunch of seats there) and the person next to you keeps the crowd at bay. You'll be able to easily flip the pages of your paper AND look out the window to see if the express train is coming at any connecting station.

On the other hand, avoid the red seats at all costs. Not only will there be an angry mob of morning commuters trying to steal what precious leg room you have, but you'll also be forced to eat the leather briefcase - or moist umbrella - of the nearest standing patron all the way from BK to Manhattan (turns out briefcases and purses of standing passengers tend to be face-level with sitting ones). Worst of all, you're jammed in between 2 other people who may be wearing huge, puffy coats or could smell like mold or may be spilling their childs' sippy cup full of milk all over your leg (i've had this happen more times than I'd like to remember).

Lastly, the pink seats. Those you just have to watch out for. The good part is that you're in the corner of the train and you only have to sit next to one other person. Plus, corners are great for sleeping which make them morning favorites.

Unfortunately, um, less tidy(?) people have also caught on to that little tidbit of information and favor the corner seats for night long train rides to nowhere. Therefore you have a disproportionately high rate of urine on the seats and/or chances for interesting odors hanging in the air. Just make sure you look before you sit.

Happy R-train Riding!

I did another one of my 21 Things over two weeks ago. One of the more personal, sort of strange, TMI things: Getting a Brazilian. The plan was to record my facial reactions while it was happening so everyone could pretend they were in just as much excruciated pain as I was!... And so I could look back and laugh at the way my face has a habit of contorting when I don’t pay attention to it.

 Unfortunately I had the appointment scheduled the same day my Uncle died and it threw me for a bit of a loop and it just didn't seem right to record myself getting waxed while thinking about a funeral. I don’t know, call me crazy, but that just seems unsavory.

So, I went without a camera. Instead, I drew some pictures below to illustrate the whole event and you can still pretend you were right there with me (although I’d rather you didn’t)!

First I walked into Shobha, the place I’d read all sorts of miraculous reviews about. Apparently, they have Sugaring options instead of waxing so the pain is supposed to be about half as intense. I liked half-intensity pain ratings.

Inside, I waited for about 10 minutes with all the older women getting their eyebrows threaded, Little did they know, I was about to drop trow for one of their usually-eyebrow estheticians.

Finally, a tiny little woman named Neetsu came out and introduced herself. With the minimum amount of conversation possible she walked me back to a private room. Inside she efficiently pulled out a paper cover for what looked like a doctor’s bed and then demanded “Everything off from the waist down.” Thankfully I was wearing a dress so the situation was a bit less awkward.

Then the tiny little woman had me put my legs in a lotus position while laying back on the bed. She asked me a few questions, “is this your first time?”. Which it was.

Neetsu then informed me that I’d have to go with waxing instead of sugaring because newbies don’t have the right hair for sugar (need I remind you.. sugaring is the sole reason I chose Shobha). For a split second I panicked.

Before I had a chance to launch into a full blown anxiety attack, she slapped some hot, sticky, uncomfortable wax on, covered it with a white cloth and –without warning- RIPPPPPPED it right off.

This is how it felt:

Then she did the other side. And this is how that felt:

And then she did the middle and for the first time my legs shook, my hand flew out to the side and my mouth let out a piercing “ah!”

Still, not as painful as I’d imagined. Sure, I felt a fiery rage bubbling inside me (yes, I realize I spelled fiery wrong in the pic) but it was still less than the hell-on-my-crotch searing pain I'd imagined. So she finished up with me “ah-ing” along the way.

Finally, everything was done. I threw my tip in an envelope and waddled out to the street. The wax may not have been as bad as I’d imagined but the burning afterwards certainly was. Go figure.

Anyways, it’s been two weeks now and would I go back again? You betcha.

Today I'm stuck at home with an insanely painful and humongous stye on my eye (not sure if I should spell it "stye" or "sty" so I'm just going to switch it up every now and again). Not only do I look ridiculous, but I can only use one eye for anything useful. 

Yes, I'm half blind and home from work on my third day at a new job. I am just that awesome. 

But, aside from having nightmares about my boss thinking I'm a liar and a fool, I have to admit that I'm having a blast with my little pus-filled eyelid. 

Why? Well because I may look physically deformed, but the possibilities are endless! Styes pretty much kick any other infection's butt. 

Here's how:

1. General hilarity. How can you not laugh at a face like this? 

2. Dressing up like a pirate. Stys are a legitimate excuse to bust out the eye patch. Arrgggh

3. If I squint my good eye to match the crazy one and insert fake smoke... I can pull off the pothead look. Or at least come really close to it.

4. I am the real life http://www.bambusspiele.de/spiele/jekyllandhyde/jekyllandhyde_cover300_cop.jpg&t=1" target="_blank">Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Or Twoface. Whichever you prefer.  

4. And when all else fails, I can put on my sunglasses to cover the deformity and spend the rest of the day playing Men In Black.... 

...Or sleeping and making stupid pictures with paint all day while hopped up on OTC painkillers. Whatever.

1. Let it Dough - Making cookies with lots of personality. There's a whole story line of pictures. Here's a peak: 

2. The Digital Story of the Nativity - A video for people who love Jesus and Technology. 

3. What Santa Really Does When You're Sleeping - The Oatmeal brings us yet another classic: 

4. The Best Ugly Christmas Sweaters - Because Ugly Xmas Sweaters never get old. 

5.Mele Kalikimaka with Christmas lights!!!! 

Merry browsing to all and to all a good night  

This year, my Christmas present to myself was knocking off one of the biggest items on my 21 Things list - Flying. 

Yes. I, Nikki Yeager, flew a little baby plane. I can't tell you much about the plane and I won't be allowed to ever fly one alone unless I spend around 10k on classes. BUT, I did it once and I can tell you this - one day I will have that license and I'll gladly fly any of my friends around for fun  In fact, I may just move into a plane and forget about ever being grounded again. 

Here's how it went down: 

I woke up on Tuesday ready to go at 7am. I took a shower, hopped on the train and made my way to the LIRR. Right before I swiped my credit card to purchase the 20 dollar ticket to Ronkonkoma and back (funny name, real place.), I got a phone call. Apparently, no matter how nice you are to the flying instructor, it's still against the rules to fly baby planes with winds above 30 knots. 

So the next day I woke up again ready to fly. I rolled over to turn off my alarm and instead of just an obnoxious beeping, I was greeted with a gasp from the boy next to me. 

Boyfriend: With a look of horror, "What's wrong with your face?" 

Me: Confused, "Ummm.....?" 

Boyfriend: "Seriously. Your eye..." 

At which point I ran to the bathroom and discovered that somehow in the middle of the night, my eyelid decided to protest flying lessons by swelling up to the size of a Clementine. Which not only made me slightly blind in my right eye by puffing up the skin to cover my actual eyeball, but it also made me look a bit physically deformed. 

But then again, a little deformity never stopped anyone from going out and flying a plane. 

At least I don't think so. 

So I took off for the train yet again. This time, without cancellation but with the unwelcome addition of a bizarre face defect. 

Anyways, I finally made my way to the miniature little airport with all the tiny planes. My teacher met me there with a smile on his face and did his best to ignore my strange appearance. He walked me around the plane, let me check the gas for impurities by holding it up to the light, showed me all the different parts of the plane (rudder, wings, flaps, etc.) and then after what seemed like forever, he opened the door and told me to get in. 

So I did. 

I hopped in, strapped myself down and took hold of the little half-circle steering wheel. Then he climbed aboard, grabbed his steering wheel and told me to put my feet on the pedals. 

He started the plane and then we started to move. The little pedals under my feet went back and forth, turning us right and left. Once we were on the runway my teacher moved his feet from his set of pedals : "Your turn." 

And then the plane veered sharply to the right, swung back to the left, jiggled somewhere along the middle of the runway, took a sharp turn to the right again and then stayed somewhere left of the line I was supposed to be right of. 

Turns out I'm not a very good plane driver. But whatever, most flying takes place in the air. Right?

Then came the takeoff. 

Now I've been in small planes before but this particular one was microscopic compared to any of the propeller planes I've seen. It had less space than a two-seater race car and the  whole thing weighed little enough to actually push the plane on the ground. Needless to say, when we got up in the air, Mother Nature had a bit of fun pushing us around. 

Yet somehow I wasn't afraid when it was my turn to steer. First, I practiced flying straight at the horizon. Surprisingly hard when you don't know what all the gauges mean and are going on straight sight alone. 

Then came the turns. He let me do a little left turn, then a little right turn. And despite the man on my headset telling me when planes were coming into and out of the airport, we still had to look over our shoulders (like in a car) before turning. Then came the sharp turns. He spun us right on our sides and did a cirlce. First one way, then the other. Then we dropped down to see all the fancy LI homes. 

Very fancy LI homes. 

And then he relinquished the controls again, "Do a sharp turn." So I did. In fact, I did a 360 in a plane. WOOOO!

After just half an hour in the air it was time to come back to the ground. 

But I'm pretty sure I left my heart in the sky. I'll have to go back and get it soon .. without the weird eye infection.  

I posted an entire album of Spain Pictures. Since I don't have a FB anymore, you'll have to do all the stalking here. Sorry for the inconvenience  

WooHoo!