-My neighbors, May 19th, 3:30 am.

My friend Madelynn tells this great story of a play she attended a while ago. It’s in this tiny theater, really intimate, meaning the audience members are basically sitting on the actors’ laps. Everything is dark and quiet. It’s a play. Shit is intense. Shit is real. Actors are acting. They are emoting, but not too much. They are transforming into another character, which I guess is what acting is. And at one point, there’s this lone voice that comes from the back: “Oh GOD, this is ENDLESS.” And one can only assume the actors hear this and just feel bad about themselves and perhaps question the whole acting thing and how it’s pointless and how if I haven’t made it now I’m probably never going to make it, and what am I doing with my life I have no backup plan, all I want to do is act. Anyway that basically sums up this trip. I am the voice from the back wailing in agony. But that’s what happens when you wake up at 4:15 am so you can take a 5:15 car to the airport and then fly to Buffalo, which–holy shit–is where Buffalo wings come from, how you never made that connection until now is a mystery, also you fucking hate Buffalo wings. They smell like fried urine and leads you to believe that the only thing that comes from Buffalo is bad news. Then you drive for forty minutes to the Canadian side of the falls while you’re sorely undercaffeinated and while your parents literally read EVERY SIGN OUT LOUD and then backseat drive as if they’ve EVER been to Buffalo before. Your father, of course, went to Niagara Falls in the seventies and is absolutely SHOCKED that the cute little hotel he stayed at is no longer there and has become a Sheraton tower with 1,000 rooms. He keeps bringing it up because…I don’t know why he just does. He’s obsessed with the hotel he stayed at before you were born. Meanwhile, your mom is walking like a champ–she’s in great shape and hits the elliptical machine every day. She is in better shape than you, maybe. Your father, however, is struggling behind and shuffling his feet on the pavement and complaining that his feet hurt and the shuffle sound is MAKING YOU CRAZY and more importantly and perhaps more entertainingly, making YOUR MOTHER crazy. She says “pick up your feet” so then your father marches and does a high step, which is funny but then two seconds later he’s shuffling again so that didn’t work out for anyone. And if you want to go to any of the sweet wax museums (like the one that promises a whole bunch of CRIMINALS!!!!) then sorry buddy, no fun for you. And don’t even think about the haunted house. Your parents do not like fun. They will ask you, repeatedly, what’s for lunch and what’s for dinner as if you’ve been to Niagara Falls before and have a whole slew of restaurant recommendations. So you use Yelp but the cell network in Canada costs, like, $1000 Canadian dollars which is the same as US dollars, but sometimes you can get AT&T but on the Edge network which is basically like a dial-up modem for your phone. Then you find a pizza place and your dad is impressed that he managed to eat two slices of pizza that has no meat because his daughter is a goddamn vegetarian still after, like, 20 years.

Then, you wake up the next day and go back to Buffalo and then back to NYC and walk around the streets of Greenwich Village because your parents like to pack it in and every minute they have to be doing something. You discover your mother has an excellent sense of direction and understands where Washington Square Park is in relation to your apartment but your father thinks you are close to the World Trade Center, which you are not. Nor are you close to Central Park, Times Square, or Rock Center, but since your dad visited in the nineties he believes he’s an expert on NYC geography. Then the next day they wake up at the crack of dawn again to head to your father’s high school reunion/golf trip.

All this to say, I had a great time. Great time meaning I survived. But above all, my parents had a good time, which I guess was the point. They want to go on another trip with me but I am TOFTS (That stands for Too Old For This Shit, keep up, people.) My parents should probably have their own reality show but the fame would go to their heads and they would truly be intolerable.

The End.

We both have ponytails.

We both like Ukrainian food.

The End.

This brings me to Niagara Falls. My father has a high school reunion in Pennsylvania. I think it involves golfing and maybe looking at Amish things. And you are absolutely correct, my father did not go to high school in the States, but there’s still a reunion here because so many classmates ended up immigrating. Anyway my parents thought, well if we’re going to this reunion, why not swing by NYC and see Annie. But instead of spending time in NYC, which we have been to before, why not go somewhere else, like…Niagara Falls?

My mother has never been there and would like to go. My father has been there and is grumbling that he has to go again. I have never been there but I have access to Wikipedia and so yes, I have been there. I’m not sure why it has to be Niagara Falls. I’m sure they are majestic, but they are also waterfalls. It’s not like you can hike up them or go canoeing or rafting or do all sorts of outdoor activities that I despise. But OK, my mother wants to go, so we go. She is the commander of the ship. Note that Niagara Falls is, like, 7 hours away and my parents want to DRIVE because road trips are fun. Who doesn’t like fun! The answer is me. I shot the whole idea down because I have a life to lead, a life in which I do not drive through Buffalo, aka New York’s icy butthole. I rather fly because planes were invented just to prevent road trips with parents.

But instead of taking a trip where people relax in the Niagara Falls area and do whatever it is people do in the Niagara Falls area, my parents want to PACK IT IN. So we are flying out at the crack of dawn on Friday and coming back Saturday morning. Every minute is planned. This is going to be really painful, you guys.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that this is a good time to follow @annietown on Twitter. I will update my life so that my pain can become your enjoyment.

This could be the only Powerpoint you ever enjoy ever. Somewhere there’s a new employee orientation going on and people are sad because they are watching a Powerpoint that isn’t this one. I happen to love Powerpoint. Fucking love it. All the default text swooshes and spins and boomerangs and “reveals” are totally hilarious, and as I made this I thought, Who actually uses this shit? I mean except for me? But then I realized that tons of people do, just because they can. Then that made me really sad. The “helpful tips” guide in Powerpoint advises you to not “over-animate” texts and images because it can be distracting. So then I thought THEN WHY DID YOU PROVIDE THE OPTION TO DISTRACT PEOPLE? Oh Microsoft.

The sad part about this is that it took me FOREVER. Because Microsoft. One would think you could just export a Powerpoint to a video. BUT YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN. Because Microsoft. No joke, this took me 4 programs to create. But the good news is that if you have questions about Powerpoint, I can answer it and basically tell you it can’t do the thing you want it to do.

On Amazon you can rate if a review was “helpful”. You can click yes or no. I guess the idea is that “the crowd” will determine what reviews bubble up to the top in order to reach the maximum number of shoppers. Now I’d like to point out that for my review of the taco pocket pouch, 167 out of 174 people found it helpful. This means that SEVEN people found it UNhelpful. They took the time to read my review of a POUCH THAT LOOKS LIKE A TACO and said, nope, this review wasn’t helpful-–it did not have the details I needed to make an informed decision about buying this FIVE DOLLAR novelty that, just to review, LOOKS LIKE A TACO. These seven people took the time to read and think and then click “no, not helpful.” But you know what’s even more amazing than this? That 167 actually found the review HELPFUL. A part of me hopes that 167 people bought the taco pouch after reading my review, but I think that the company didn’t even make 167 of them. I mean let’s be honest here, five people actually want this, and one of them has it already. (Hint: it’s me.) (Obviously.)

I can’t figure out where the music is coming from, but I actually think it’s from a building down the street. Down the street! As in, a hundred yards away from me! What must that sound like to his real neighbors? Actually, the same: One part Ted Nugent and all parts suck. Anyway, my point is that this guy’s amp must be insane, which leads me to my latest Amazon review.

The point is that I wrote an Amazon review and it smells like vanilla.

My mother’s old phone could text, but only in bullshit English language. Who wants that? Her new phone can text in Korean. Baller time! So she is learning to text in Korean but she’s not particularly good at it. Basically this text says:
L
N
Annie call me

Final score:
Samsung, 373827
Mother, 1
Annie, 0

The book is due out July 9 on Touchstone/Simon & Schuster! What better way to celebrate July than to read all these words I put together, just for you! It’s available for pre-order AHORA! That means “now,” en Español. The book, however, is in English. It qualifies for super saver shipping! So while you’re there, you can buy this can opener. It’s less can opener and more Jean Claude ‘Can’ Damme. I love it so much that I’ve considered breaking into my neighbor’s apartment and opening all his cans. You know, to be nice. While I’m there, I will destroy his stereo system. The other night he was playing “Eternal Flame” by the Bangles and while I’m perfectly OK with that song, he listened to it about fifteen times in a row. Seriously. It was like a “power hour” of Eternal Flame. He loves listening to the same crap over and over and over. And over. If you are reading this, and you were listening to the Bangles nonstop, then you are my neighbor. Hello neighbor. You are making me sad.

Where was I? Oh yes, Amazon. I also reviewed Happy Birthday or Whatever. I gave it five stars and I would’ve given it MORE stars, like say five-and-a-half of them, if Amazon weren’t so strict. Let us have more stars, Amazon! Stars are free!. They are also just like us! They have their arms full! They lean on fences! They pick up dog poop! I know it is totally not classy to review your own book, but you can’t spell “class” without “ass”, am I right? (Say yes.)

I’ll be posting info about readings as soon as we figure it all out. And, of course, follow me on Facebook and Twitter.