The Peach in the Apple

I'm ruined...

2012-02-06T14:18:00.000-08:00

Try these at your own risk. Don't say I didn't warn you.

You can get them at Trader Joe's.

...

Remember, you've been warned.

On owning a car again...

2012-01-25T12:29:00.000-08:00

When I turned 18 something magical happened. My parents woke me up, told me to walk to a window overlooking the driveway and check to see what was waiting. I peeked out to see a champagne colored Chevy Blazer with a big white bow on the hood waiting for me down below. Amazing. It was like living in the best car commercial I'd ever seen. I loved that car. Loved it. Driving was one of my favorite activities, the commute between the University of Georgia and my parents' house was a highlight. I'd turn up the music, cruise down 316 and daydream about the movies I'd star in one day. It was a barely driven hand me down from my grandfather and it treated me right for years.

When I graduated college and moved to New York though, my beautiful Blazer became neglected, sitting in my parents' driveway, probably missing me like The Giving Tree missed its Boy. But I was in the big city, nobody has a car, you don't NEED a car and I (in the coolest of pretentious ways) revelled in not having one...well, after a little while. My first year in New York was spent convincing myself that I didn't miss my vehicle. I'd spout out phrases I'd heard seasoned New Yorkers say: "Public transportation is liberating", "Parking and gas are outrageous expenses", "My carbon footprint is hardly noticeable" and after many months, I started to believe myself. Finally I stopped fantasizing about the privacy of my car and realized the beauty of jamming my headphones in, picking up a great book, and riding down to work on the subway. (I really did get SO much reading done while commuting). Living in New York provides a built in workout, you walk everywhere and I learned to replace my beloved drives with my cherished walks with my iPod. So, when I moved to L.A. (a notorious driving city) in November, I was in a bit of a pickle. My parents had long ago sold my beloved Blazer and I certainly didn't have extra funds to buy a car. The kindness of friends took on it's true meaning when my friend Chris lent me Gladys, a lovely, old lady from 1994. A true Griswold classic with wood panelling and all, I drove her with pride for two months until some idiot bimbo turned her disgusting yellow Xterra into Gladys' face and sent her to heaven...sorry Chris...thank God for insurance.

In the aftermath of Gladys, I've found myself in the same situation. Is it possible to be an Angeleno without a car? Yes, actually. If you live in Hollywood at least. I've walked EVERYWHERE and it's really wonderful, BUT L.A. is huge and I realized that soon I'd have to start repeating to myself a familiar phrase from my past, "Public transportation is liberating." Unfortunately though, Los Angeles does not have a Metro NEARLY as complex as New York's, it closes at midnight. I'd have to learn the buses.

But then...

My amazing friend Bridget informed me that she had a car she wanted to get rid of and, in an act of extreme generosity, essentially GAVE me her 1990 Lexus...Yes, this is a true story. As I type this, I'm sitting at a Starbucks waiting to get a Smog Test and new plates for it (pray the LAPD doesn't see it's expired tags before I make it to the DMV...) It's truly amazing, bordering on unbelievable; I guess I'm lucky with cars and so appreciative for it.

The last few days spent with the Lexus have reminded me of what I loved so much about my Blazer. It's such a freedom to get in your car and just DRIVE...I mean, not too far, gas is way too expensive for joy rides, but even sitting in traffic doesn't bother me like I'd expected it to. Don't get me wrong though, I don't think I'll ever find a replacement for walking blocks and blocks in New York, music on, zoned out and enjoying the city, but man, it's really nice to have a place besides my shoulder to put my purse...(my passenger's seat (that allusion was a little vague I think)).

Make this...

2012-01-24T15:51:00.000-08:00

Last May, my dear friends Kerry and Tibi got married in beautiful Venice, Italy. Yes, that really happened. Ahh, memories. Venetians LOVE Aperol Spritzes, although, if you're my mother, you can make them with Campari...eww. At happy hour every afternoon, Venice pubs offer cocktails and cicchetti (little appetizers that you can choose from while you drink) and the Spritz is a staple (we even found places with proseco on tap.) It's a great cocktail, so easy to make, the Aperol bottle is super cute AND you look ultra cool when you make it for guests.

SPRITZ!

3 parts Proseco

2 parts Aperol

Splash of soda

garnish with an orange slice and an olive

Cheers!

Houseguests.

2012-01-21T08:31:00.000-08:00

We have two of these little guys staying with us for a few days. I've seen them for about 15 minutes in daylight because the scary ceiling fan has kept them terrified and confined to underneath the bed... Apparently the fan loses its threat though around 2am when they both decide to come out and climb on EVERYTHING. It's cute. I'm jealous. I wish I was a cat. That picture is of a black cat audition by the way.

Speaking of those of us jealous of cats, check out my friends' Chris and Whitney's new Funny or Die video. Funny shit.

match-up.com more dates more relationships more of the same shit - watch more funny videos

photo via: Cup of Jo

On getting a job...

2012-01-20T08:56:00.000-08:00

I'd forgotten (maybe selectively) how much finding a day job sucks. February 1st will mark my three month anniversary with L.A. and also my longest stretch gone without a job in years. It's a very strange feeling, not having a job. Usually, I find myself wondering what day it is. What time it is. What I'm doing. Where I am. Why I'm here! Thank God, we don't have a TV in this apartment or I'm sure my days would be spent wondering if my ass really is as big as Kim Kardashian's (there's a distinct possibility based on height ratio) and crying over the lack of employment on Craigslist. And also wondering if I should sign the anti SOPA and PIPA petition before I sign into Pinterest. When "pounding the pavement", the phrase I've adopted to romanticize dropping off my resumes without the help of a car, I try and remind myself that one day all of this stress will be only a fond memory to regale/bore NO inspire my children with, but it doesn't really help in the moment I suppose. In talking to a friend the other day who'd just lost her job AND her flaky roommate to a boyfriend, I wondered, "Aren't you freaking out??" "No," she said, "not yet, I'm not worried about money." Which is really what it all comes down to anyway, right? If I wasn't constantly in a state of financial distress, my life would be easy as pie. I will add here however, that there are certainly ways to be happy without money. Hiking. Crafting. Cooking. The list goes on. I've been engaged in a lot of these activities lately which I'm sure are making me a more perfect model human. Which is fantastic. Alas, I'm very grateful to wake up to beautiful sunshine everyday and to be getting a lot of work done in other areas of my life (i.e. Oh YEAH, I'm an actress!) but oh how I would love to cross the 'how in the hell am I going to pay that credit card bill this month...shit!' off my list of 'things I should worry about today'. In my dream of all dreams, the one I usually conjure while I'm pounding the pavement, my acting and writing career take off before I even have to get a day job!!! That sounds awesome! Maybe we can all have a group meditation on that later...yeah...I'll lead you on a great hike and cook you dinner in exchange :)

Amazing Artwork: Lynn Felton http://www.lynnfelton.com/

PSSST....

2012-01-18T15:25:00.000-08:00

For the six year old camper in those like me, who just really don't want to miss a beat or a bead loom project to take a shower*, this is THE BEST dry shampoo. Oh yeah, it's also the CHEAPEST and you can get it anywhere.

That's all. I just felt a real urge to express my love for Pssst as I sprayed my rotten hair today and admired the "clean" beautiful outcome. (It even makes your bangs look washed, WHAAAT??!)

I even love the way the can looks.

Oh my god, maybe someone from Pssst will see this and send me a lifetime supply.
I mean a girl can dream, right?

*Note: By shower, I mean wash my hair...I have baby wipes for everything else...shut up.

What Happens in Vegas...ehhh, screw that...

2012-01-17T18:18:00.000-08:00

Well, I did it. I went to Vegas for the first time and it was...something. I would have written about it yesterday but I was still recovering from a two day hangover and had to take three naps. Anyway, my dear friend Lauren is getting married in February and we went to celebrate her Bachelorette party. And boy, did we.

Apparently, oxygen is pumped into the casinos so you can stay awake and keep drinking...and drinking...and drinking...like I did until 6am. But let me back it up a bit. I think I mentioned last week that I tried to squeeze my ass into some jeans and they ripped on the way up sending me into my first real crisis of 2012 and a major detox. Yes, I actually thought I could go to Vegas and stay on a detox without alcohol or fried snacky crap. Alas, the SECOND Vegas came into view, I threw the no drinking phase of my detox out the window but decided that I'd still keep up with my cranberry water and my clean eating. Until about 4:30 am I kept up with my water (the only reason I think I'm still alive to type this) and even opted out of the 5 am breakfast that everyone indulged in. But then, suddenly it was 11am, I'd been asleep for about 5 hours and I woke up and stood so fast I blacked out and had to sit on the floor. Tunnel vision then ensued for a good ten minutes and nasty cold sweats, as my body attempted to save itself from the poison that coursed through it. And that's when I realized, YOU CANNOT EAT LIKE A BUNNY IN VEGAS. You must carbo load like you're about to run a marathon. I was ravenous. Within 5 1/2 minutes I consumed all of the snacks I had passed up the night before including: 2 Gatorade's, 3 Nutri Grain bars, 1/2 gallon of goldfish, 1/4 a bag of salt and vinegar Kettle chips, and a little over 1/2 the box of Nilla Wafers (which, by the way, ARE DELICIOUS, I'd forgotten). I sat there in a coma, completely shocked at what had just happened. Never in my life have I had my body take over and force feed itself in order to save its life like that. Needless to say, I promptly passed out after my binge and left Vegas that night. (How on earth can one stay for more than one??)

OH YEAH, I also tried to gamble. I bought in $20 at a $5 table and 4 minutes later I'd lost it all. I got pissed, had to be talked down by new friend Stephanie and reminded that it wasn't my party and that I needed to shape up. So...I kind of did, but not before muttering how much I hated Vegas and games. Twas the end of my gambling days I believe. Overall though, Vegas is AWESOME. It's not real. It's adult Disneyland and somehow, even though I probably could have checked myself into the ER for alcohol poisoning, I can't wait to go back.

Super Sophisticated

2012-01-13T15:19:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, I think around the beginning of 2010, my blog started to veer into a sort of "here's pictures of the food I've cooked and isn't my life quaint" direction and stayed that way for a short period. Then I realized I was posting pictures of really disgusting looking soups and writing about things that NO ONE wanted to read about. Today, even with that being said, I've decided to post a "recipe". It's not really a recipe though, it's more me telling you about four ingredients and how to assemble them. Before everyone besides Jess and my mom stop reading, let me give you the reason for this and also warn you that tomorrow I may post a cocktail recipe. This thing is SO EASY to make and you look SO COOL when you put it together for your guests. Evan and I ordered this at a restaurant one time and paid somewhere around $15 (see: super fancy appetizer) for it and then realized how freaking easy it would be to recreate, so here it goes:

The "I'M SUPER SOPHISTICATED CROSTINI"

1 loaf of bread (preferably something with nuts or just a French baguette)

sage

honey

ricotta cheese

Cut your bread into little slices (crostini), drizzle with olive oil and toast in the oven. Rip up the sage into little pieces, heat up some oil, and quickly fry the sage. Like, quick, throw it in there and take it right out, you just want it crispy. Open your ricotta and stir it just so it's smooth. Take out your bread, put a dollop of ricotta on each crostini, sprinkle a good amount of sage on each, and then drizzle them with honey. Voila! Everyone thinks you're the best host/ess ever.

You're welcome!

Let me tell you something...

2012-01-12T22:23:00.000-08:00

I picked lemons today.

Like, a LOT of lemons...

And then I thought, "I'll make a key lime pie with lemons!" which Evan pointed out is actually just a lemon meringue pie. Then I tried to put on a pair of jeans (that fit me a month ago) and they ripped... SO, I will be adding these lemons to water and detoxing my flobbity ass.

Goodness me...

2012-01-11T10:19:00.000-08:00

First of all, may we all take a moment of silence for our dearly beloved Gladys. She fought the hard fight but, at 14 and with hardly any brakes and missing an eye, she's kicked it. Thanks Gladys, for safely transporting me in true style these last few months...

...

Really, there's not too much to say after that except, I suck at bowling.

I mean, I really do. Last night (or two nights ago now because I stopped writing yesterday) just cuz it was Monday (you know), Jamie and I got dressed up and headed to The Roosevelt hotel where we drank fancy cocktails and bowled at The Spare Room.

They give you these amazing bowling shoes (not that all bowling shoes aren't somewhat cool) and set you loose on their two lanes near the bar.

My luck ran out after two practice rounds and I peeked with a score of 70 something while Jamie...well...she somehow bowled a 140...

Whatever. I paid for our drinks since I'm really rich and honored the birth of Blue Ivy with my one strike. Hopefully now Beyonce really will call me to babysit.

Clearly taken AFTER the scores were tallied.

I'm hoping to have some interesting posts coming up as I'm transforming into an L.A. person who...dun dun duuuuun....TAKES THE BUS, so stay tuned. It should be fun.

I've kept you hanging...

2012-01-08T23:16:00.000-08:00

Allllright, so I took the holidays and THEN SOME off from blogging. Sorry. I'm so, so sorry. To make up for it though, here's a picture of Gladys that I made beautiful-ish using Picasa.

Since I last wrote, a lot has happened:

I got into my first car accident. But, of course, IT WASN'T MY FAULT, it was some girl who, in a hurry to get to an audition, turned her massive SUV into Gladys' delicate face and knocked her eyeball right out. I'm hoping that can be fixed this week. This curiously happened the day after I mentioned to Jamie that, "It's not MY DRIVING that worries me, I'm a great driver, it's all the other IDIOTS that scare me..." I had to open my big mouth...

My dear friend Liz allowed me the AWESOME opportunity of producing a segment for an upcoming show she is executive producing for TLC. I not only got my first producer credit, I also got to witness a LIVE BIRTH...that's right, live birth. Like, baby shooting out of vagina, me, a camera guy and the family in the room AND the doctor of course. It was pretty ridiculous and special. Great way to kick off the holidays to say the least.

I went home to Atlanta for a week over Christmas and had a great time with my family. Jay and I watched every episode of Game of Thrones, duh, I probably spent 35 hours in my parents' basement watching TV. We even drove to South Carolina for a week to catch up with my mom's side of the family which was wonderful and long overdue. And I got to see my old friend Melanie and catch Kerry and Tibi in passing to grab lunch before I headed back to L.A.

Jamie and I moved on January 1st into the cutest little apartment ever. A "studio" with a separate dressing room and kitchen in a building from the 1920s smack in the middle of Hollywood. We LOVE it and are so excited to decorate. We can walk to the Farmers Market on Sundays and to two of our favorite restaurants. It's wonderful and the girliest place I've ever lived. All we do is sit around, eat, drink wine, read, write, and paint pinecones. We're not getting a TV and yeah, we've been bragging about it in the most pretentious of manners.

I said to my mom on the phone yesterday, "I'm really...happy? I'm happy. I really am just happy." And it was kind of a surprise. I never expected to like L.A. as much as I do. Blame consistent sunshine, blame being able to look out my window and see mountains, I don't know, but I really am happy. I miss New York...I Miss My Friends and sometimes I get these weird, heavy, physical pangs for you guys...and I CAN'T WAIT to visit in the next few months but yeah...I am really happy.

So, here's to a really wonderful 2012 filled with lots of funny (no more mushy) blog posts, lots of success and many, many cocktails.

Cheers!

I thought things might be different here...

2011-11-16T08:01:00.003-08:00

...but it still gets dark at 5:15. C'est la vie.

(Must go to LACMA.)

Where are the bathrooms?

2011-11-15T07:00:00.000-08:00

As much as people complain about the lack of public restrooms in NYC, I've found the problem much worse in LA. I've been into multiple Starbucks that don't have public bathrooms. Are you joking? No, I'm not. As I type, I'm sitting here at a Starbucks and I have to pee SO badly and I'm screwed! Also, yesterday at Runyon Canyon I thought for sure there'd be some public bathrooms, it's a park right? Nope, no, doesn't matter. The lesson here is: Pee before you leave the house, before you leave the restaurant, and maybe look into catheters if this problem continues...There may be a bladder infection in my future, TMI?

Dorothy Joined an LA Gang!

2011-11-13T15:17:00.007-08:00

Retro Cam isn't doing these sparkly red pumps justice. This is the second pair I've seen hanging in WeHo.

Here's an explanation of shoe tossing in case you're into it. (Apparently, it doesn't really signify gang involvement...whatver.)

Lazy Sunday Post.

2011-11-13T10:10:00.004-08:00

Don't get me wrong, I'm having a great time out here in the Pacific Standard Time Zone and I know I should probably be thankful for missing a winter in NYC, but, I dunno, I keep reading my blogs and looking at tights and sweaters and coats and getting this annoying pang for how the City feels in Winter. It's awful/awesome and it's so weird to be bypassing it.

Anyway, today I went hiking! Holy shit. It's steep and a great workout and awesome and there's a ton of sexy people and every kind of dog I've ever hoped to see. Ryan Gosling wasn't there.

Wait, am I awake?

2011-11-09T16:46:00.003-08:00

Or did I dream about a full size trampoline in the middle of someone's living room? OH WAIT, there's picture proof, that happened in real life!

I've decided that if New Yorkers had the space, they would also decorate their homes with backyard recreational equipment like trampolines and tee-pees. (Oh yeah, did I mention that on Sunday I went to a friend of a friend's house and she had a full size TEE PEE in her backyard. AWESOME!!!)

*whisper voice* it's a little bit fun out here...

Side note: Send job getting vibes! I'm 'this close' to getting my hands on a car. Yay!

What shows do you watch?

2011-11-05T12:37:00.004-07:00

So, not in a snobby way (but totally in a snobby way) we (me, Ev, and Gregg) never got around to getting full on, watch it every week, "I loooooove that new show on Bravo", cable. We had basic channels and somehow, magically, Food Network and that's all we wanted/wanted to pay for. Besides, who needs HBO when you have a New Yorker magazine and Jonathan Franzen's latest? In L.A. though, I keep having conversations with friends about TV shows. What do I watch? Who's great in this and that. All I have to offer to these conversations is commentary on Blair Waldorf's pregnancy or how delicious Ina's brownies looked. I need to do some homework. Thank goodness Netflix Instant View and I are engaged (did I tell you I said yes?!) I committed last month to Grey's Anatomy and completed all seven seasons and am up to date with current episodes (Go me!), but other than that, I'm Lost (which I also watched all six seasons of in under two weeks). So, what shows should I watch? I've started Parenthood and, thrillingly, Jamie has full-on, watch it every week, "I loooooove that new show on Bravo" cable so I've been getting down with Top Chef and Work of Art, but I need more. I need to look cool. I'm new here. I want to fit in. Help!

Also, here's a picture of my new bed and my new friends, Brother and Sister.

Changin'

2011-11-03T18:42:00.002-07:00

Heeeeeyyyyyy! Remember that entry I wrote a month ago? I believe my #1 New York lesson was: Moving Sucks. Yeah, it does, but still, I just shipped my life from the East to the West in an attempt to shake things up and jump start my career (please hear the word career drawled in a Virginia accent...it makes the cheesiness of that last sentence much more charming.) And, while it was not nearly as hard as any of my moves within Manhattan, it was still stressful. But, I'm here! Yay, I'm here (for the next six months or so) and because I love my blog (yes, we always neglect those we love sometimes) I wanted to continue with my musings of what it feels like to now be a Southern/semi-New Yorker living in the land of plastic and sunshine. I've been here two days and already my notion of how much I would hate it here has morphed into a question of why it took me so long to visit. It's beautiful. It's the beach! And, so far, people are really, really nice and really, really pretty. Yesterday, Jamie let me borrow her car to get to a job interview in Pasadena and I only had two minor panic attacks about merging and parking which I quickly realized were results of my low blood sugar. I did, however, re-enact the scene from Clueless when Cher accidentally gets onto the freeway and freaks out. I didn't, unfortunately, have my friends Deon and Donald Faison with me... Driving again is certainly weird but I'm getting used to it. So, send happy vibes (as if one needs them here in 75 degree weather) to me as I search for a job and a car. I'm hoping to get all that mess straightened out by the end of next week. I'll follow up with pictures (you can see the Hollywood sign from my street!) But for now, enjoy my Picasa photo editing work up there in my blog title.

Love love love,
Barbie

Five Years (Continued...)

2011-10-02T08:10:00.000-07:00

(Disclaimer: I know this entry looks nuts...I could NOT try and make it look pretty anymore...after 5 years, I'm still figuring out how to format this mess!)

Yesterday was my five year New York Anniversary. Five years! I can't believe it. I started this blog almost that long ago on November 29, 2006. I was temping then and spending a lot of time confined to random reception desks around NYC bored and having nothing left to g-chat about and I began to realize that after college, opportunities to be creative are no longer just handed to you. So, I started keeping this collection of random observations I made about living here. I've decided to celebrate 5 years by sharing the top 5 lessons I've learned living in New York City.

1. Moving is a bitch... A high maintenance bitch that never listens to you, never acts appropriately in any situation and forces you to spend tons of money on her. I have no pictures to accompany this lesson, at least none that I can find, but I will tell you, moving in the City is awful...unless you get movers. So, I suppose the actual lesson here is HIRE MOVERS. When Terrell and I rolled into Manhattan five years ago in a U-Haul, we thought we were moving into a building with an elevator. Unfortunately, that elevator was broken and he, Kerry, Tom, Evan, Gregg and I spent 15 (no joke, FIFTEEN) hours moving (mostly my) massive amounts of heavy (mostly Ikea) furniture up five flights of stairs. Kerry said that at the end of the day, he was so exhausted, you could have told him his parents had died and his emotional shift would hardly have been noticeable.

Kerry and me in our apartment on 118th after we painted and Ikea'd.

2. Finding your favorite places makes you feel like you know how to live in New York. My favorite places, believe it or not (and if you don't my Amex bill will prove it), are almost 100% comprised of restaurants and cafes. Central Park goes without saying. Whenever I can recommend a place, I feel like a real...New Yorker. My favorite places are:
-Cafe Gitane- So obvious. But, I love it. Avocado toast.

-Gottino- Wine and Cheese, it's tiny and there's a bartender who recognizes me and Meg. Love that.

-Morandi- Once my mom poured about an entire bottle of wine on Megan during dinner.

-Market Table- I posted very early on about this restaurant and it's STILL my fave.

-The Hungarian Pastry Shop- The best place to feel like a real writer and really good walnut macaroons.

-Pisticci- Too much. I've lived in Harlem the entire time I've been in NYC and Pisticci is the best restaurant up here. Kerry introduced me to it and it's probably the only place I can't count the number of times I've been.

-Joe The Art of Coffee

-Kitchenette- BEST CHOCOLATE PUDDING EVER.

3. One should wear costumes (and have photo shoots) WHENEVER possible.

(Guess what?? I spent 3 1/2 hours on THAT photo collage...)

4. Escape from NYC is absolutely essential.

(last minute addition for my brother who DOES read my blog!)

Also, check out this entry and all the others from March 2009 when Evan and I took a road trip.

...and last but not least...

5. New York is a really hard place to live, but once you figure out how to do it, even if you still hate it sometimes, it is really the BEST place in the world.

See?

xoxo,
Gossip Girl

Five Years!

2011-10-01T12:35:00.005-07:00

Today, New York and I celebrate our 5 year anniversary. Tomorrow, after I recover from the festivities, I will bring you a nostalgic post about it.

In the meantime, here's me riding a horse in Brooklyn.

Cheers!

The Moon and Star

2011-09-16T06:20:00.003-07:00

Last night, as Megan and I stepped out of her sister's apartment in Brooklyn, I exclaimed, "Look Meg, you can see the star!" Said in all seriousness and with much awe, as if seeing a single star in the sky was a normal and wondrous occasion...the City changes you.

In other news, it's cold outside!

Hiatus

2011-09-08T05:33:00.004-07:00

Obviously, I have not posted in a long time AND I just don't know when I will post again. I've been resisting the urge to post only funny cat photos but I've been stopping myself because this is not a Tumblr, ya know? Anyhoodles, this post is mainly for me because I've been feeling guilty about not updating regularly and because I don't want to feel guilty about my blog that eleven people read, I'm letting myself off the hook. After I finish pretending to be an event planner and September slows down, I'll be back. For now, here are some photos to remember me by:

There, I feel better.

Fly like an eagle

2011-08-25T06:21:00.004-07:00

Yesterday morning at LaGuardia Airport, the boy who made my latte asked for my number by drawing a # sign in the foam. I want to learn how to make lattes like that so I can do the same thing. It was very impressive.

Speaking of LaGuardia, has anyone been to the Delta terminal lately?? First of all, it now looks like a European airport, there's this whole weird market place with tons of food and coffee. And now at the gates, there are tables, all equipped with Ipads, where you can sit down and order food just by clicking what you want. This is a little too hi-tech for Grandma...I tried to document the experience by taking this crappy picture with my cell phone, but yeah, I guess it is pretty cool. Although I wonder how many people are actually ordering off the menu (pancakes are $16) and not just playing solitaire or reading the Vanity Fair App.

Did you fall asleep reading this post? I kind of did writing it. Sorry, I really just wanted to share the latte story. Can you be jet lagged from a New York to Georgia flight? (...shut up...)

Only in New York...

2011-08-23T17:22:00.004-07:00

...would a person mistake an earthquake for low blood sugar. I blame hyper body awareness, delusion, and an overly dramatic personality disorder. NO, I'M NOT the person who thought the earthquake was my body telling me I'm starving, it was some girl I met today. Earthquakes and bad storms give strangers lots to talk about. I did however make those scones in the picture...about a year ago...when we still had a working oven (no, we STILL don't have gas)... I'm keeping this post short today as I am busy drafting an evacuation plan to email my friends and packing my survival kit. Natural disasters are exhausting.

Are you f'ing kidding me?

2011-08-17T07:29:00.010-07:00

Let's be honest. Strange and annoying shit happens here ALL THE TIME. All the time. Because of the sheer magnitude of these occurrences though, I think most of the strange shit goes unnoticed or ignored. It is sad but true. There are so many days that I sit in front of my computer, racking my brain for a weird New York story to write about. Unfortunately, many of them have faded away. In the back of my mind, there's now a distant pile of memories where hobos are pooping in corners and people are walking their cats on leashes. (Oh how I wish I could recall the terror on the face of every cat I've seen on a leash.) On some happy occasions though, strange shit walks up behind you, taps you on the shoulder and demands your attention. I'll share with you one of these recent gifts.

A few nights ago, after a long day of really mind numbing work and an awesome bike ride (yes, I finally got a bike!), I decided to stop at the gelato counter in Whole Foods for a treat. They do a really stand-up job with their gelato display, anything with chunks of ingredients on it (pieces of cake, coffee beans, blueberries, etc) and I'm pretty much sold. On this particular night, I decided I was in the mood for something refreshing and ordered, "One scoop of Lemon Poppyseed and one of the Wild Blueberry, please." No sooner had the order escaped my lips that from behind me I heard,

"I can't believe you're doing that..."

In all honesty, I should really film myself reenacting this story because this woman's voice is half of the fun, but alas, I'm still in my pajamas and you DON'T want to see what's happening here. Just imagine what a bossy mouse with emphysema would sound like and you've got a pretty good idea of the ring to this lady's voice. Anyway.

I turned around to face a woman wearing a Fedora and a trench coat. She looked me up and down and I gave her my "ummmm, what is your deal?" face and replied, "What do you mean?" At this point I was trying to figure out if she was asking me this because 1.she thinks I'm in NO shape to be eating gelato or 2. that I'm in such gooood shape she can't believe I eat gelato sometimes...I'm going with option 2.

"It just seems like such an indulgence," she said and then added a dramatic pause and a bird-like side glance where I began to wonder if she was going to stab or bite me. Bewildered, I replied, "Well, I guess it is...?" I turned the statement into a question as I was thoroughly confused as to what in the hell was actually going on and then I added, "You should get some too."

"NO, I couldn't, it's not on my diet plan," she proudly remarked. Then two things happened: I launched into my "Why are you on a diet, you're so skinny" speech AND I looked down to notice the cookie in the crazy bitch's hand.

We shared another awkward pause.

Out of what I'm going to assume was shame, she quickly tossed her cookie in her bag and started muttering about how free samples don't count against your diet, it's only when you pay for them that the calories mean something, then she shot me an accusatory look. It's safe to assume that my mouth was open and my head was cocked in the "what the fuck kinda crazy slapped you this morning" position because when I looked at the girl behind the counter she'd struck the same pose. We shared a moment like you do when, even though you know you're half insane yourself, someone else is acting crazier and it helps to acknowledge these instances with another human being, just to confirm they're really happening.

"Well," I started, "Umm, you could have a free sample I'm sure..."

This excited her. She thought about it. Long enough for me to pay and for the girl behind the counter to start packing up my gelato.

"Oh no, I don't need a bag, thanks," I said.

"YOU'RE GOING TO EAT IT NOW?????" The bossy mouse shouted from behind me.

If I'd been functioning at my highest intelligence, I'm sure I would have remarked with something sassy like, "No bitch, I'm going to stand here and watch it melt while you and I discuss how anorexia makes you feel more in control of your life," but instead I lashed out with a "Yes! Yes! I'm going to eat it now." I must have been feeling vulnerable because I let out a "Gahhh, leave me alone" sigh and left immediately.

I walked out of Whole Foods shaking my head and jamming my gelato into my mouth with their TINY plastic shovel things and thanked the stars that I finally had SOMETHING to blog about. And also that I wasn't the poor girl behind the counter who was probably still having to feed the bossy mouse samples of gelato and then watch her spit them into her bag... Oh, I just chuckled picturing that. Have a nice weekend!

*If that is your picture up there and you happen upon it here, I am sorry to not give you credit, I found it on a Google image search :)

I am the most delicate of butterflies...

2011-08-15T12:48:00.004-07:00

Today, I had to drop something off at The Plaza Hotel (because I'm famous). I was told by a receptionist to wait in the lobby for the man I was there to see and so I looked for a place to sit down because I was wearing heels and my feet hurt. I found a bench, much like the one in the picture above except positioned on their marble floor, and plopped down. Hard. Really hard. The bench slid about three feet back making that awful "chair scooting across a tile floor" squealing sound followed by the clunk of it hitting the wall... AND... it echoed, or maybe that was in my mind, but I'm nearly positive it echoed. I had to regain my balance because I plopped down not in the middle of the bench but off to one side that I nearly flew off of on the ride. And then I'm pretty sure time stopped. I uttered an audible "whoa" and tried to awkwardly "laugh it off". A hotel employee came over to check if I/the marble floor, bench, and wall were okay. They were. My pride wasn't because everybody in the damn lobby was staring at me with sympathetic looks. Mercifully, the man I was there to see showed up right after and I handed him the envelope I was dropping off and then tripped walking down the front stairs of the hotel... BUT thank goodness embarrassing situations like this don't matter when you're famous...

New York I love you but...

2011-08-10T10:30:00.002-07:00

You've ruined my shoes (listen, you can hear them...)

and...

Here, this sums it up perfectly (Baker, this is for you)...

I planned this entire entry yesterday while getting soaked walking WITH an umbrella. Today it is lovely outside, but when it's not, all I really want is someone to blame for the rain. Someone to blame AND to buy me a new pair of shoes!

Mercury HAS to be in retrograde...

If you haven't you must...

2011-08-09T06:37:00.006-07:00

I used to do these posts often, usually when I had nothing else to write about and also when I could afford to go out. BUT, last week I found myself on a lady date with my dear friend Liz (check her out over at LizBiz). We hit up Buvette, a tiny gastropub in the West Village, run by the same people who started Gottino. It's super cute. Suuuuuper cute. The attention to detail is impeccable; pop-up menus, a chalk board wall where they write names for the waiting list, teeeeeeny tiiiiiiny water glasses (try 'one sip' tiny, but I forgive them), and speaking of tiny, the whole restaurant is small, but in a cute, quaint way. We knocked a wine glass off the table at one point but made friends with our neighbors while it was cleaned up. The food was delicious, small and tasty, cheeses and a duck cassoulet. We had a lot of great wine and then Liz posed with the bike outside.

I highly recommend Buvette as a great date place or a spot for an after work drink. They also have what seems to be a great breakfast (that's for you, Lauren Clemmons), apparently they steam eggs on their cappuccino machine, yes please!

Look at these tiny glasses...

And look at this cheese!

Go there!

I protest.

2011-08-08T09:35:00.006-07:00

So does the Union and here's how:

- They rent this giant inflatable rat (yes, that one up there), blow it up in front of the building that is offending them and hand out fliers listing what sucks about that building and its management. This rat was in protest of union workers who are not being paid appropriate wages at a building on the Upper West Side.

I would love to get my hands on the giant inflatable protest rat. Here's where I would leave him:

-In front of every job I've hated (i.e. every job that didn't involve holding a script or writing on this blog.)
-In front of my landlord's door for being a bitch who STILL hasn't fixed our gas problem... (See: My post about our gas)
-One in front of the American Express building just for existing and giving me, the biggest money idiot of all, the ability to hand their card over to vendors everywhere and then only pay them interest every month.
-Some place representative of the summer season because I now have bacne from sweating so much. Maybe by a public pool because those scream summer and kind of gross me out anyway.
-Outside of any bar that's allowed me to have over 5 gin and tonics in one night. I've lost too many days this summer to hangovers.
-Finally, the laundromat for being really hot and crowded and just not enjoyable. I blame it for the reason I have clothes piled in every corner of my room and even further for making me feel crazier than normal. You know, they say that the state of your room is a reflection of the state of your mind...soooo, my mind had an old McDonald's cup, dirty workout clothes, and an unmade bed cluttering it...

I'm sure I could go on and on with my protest list. I could start listing people's names who deserve a rat in front of their home but that's tacky and let's be honest, I'm a class act, so I won't do that. On a side note, my birthday is in less than two months so, if you were looking for a suggestion of a great present for my 28th, the giant inflatable protest rat would win you major points. Just sayin'.

Tis true...

2011-08-03T14:28:00.003-07:00

Be back tomorrow with something interesting.

Future Business Owners of America

2011-08-02T09:38:00.000-07:00

This is Melody. (I made that up but she looks like a Melody, right?) While on a work errand yesterday, I passed her selling cookies outside of her building. Obviously, I HAD to stop. First of all, so cute. Melody is so cute. Okay, second of all, she's a genius business woman and I respect the hell out of a smart mini lady. But, before I go any further, I must digress... One summer when I was about nine, my best friend Ashley and I set up a lemonade stand outside of the pool because we discerned that it was the area with the highest traffic flow in the neighborhood. Which was true, it was. We also not only sold lemonade, we sold popsicles too. (Flavor Ices, the cheap kind) It was our genius business strategy and lemme tell you, the Flavor Ices REALLY brought in some hard core revenue. We knew what we were doing. The lemonade went for 25 cents and the popsicles for 50. We made bank that summer which was a major monetary improvement for me and my business ventures. The summer before I had attempted selling rocks I'd found in my neighbor's backyard that I thought looked cool. Rock collecting was pretty in at the time and I thought I'd try my hand in the biz. For some reason though, my rocks (aka broken granite and pebbles) weren't really hot sellers. Maybe if I'd had some gemstones... Annnnnyway, when I saw this little lady yesterday, I recognized a kindred spirit. She's cashing in on so many of her advantages here. 1. Prime real estate. She recognizes how great it is to live with her parents on the Upper West Side, not pay rent and run a successful business. Do you know how many people walk past her cookie stand a day? Probably, about a million. She must be saving like crazy! 2. She's super cute and rockin' that and 3. Being tuned into New York's obsession with quality food, Melody claims to offer "fresh baked" goods. She knows though, that in this world of misleading food labels, "fresh baked" does not necessarily have to mean "homemade" per say. But, it damn sure draws people over to your cookie stand and Melody knows that and she doesn't care. Melody don't care if her Thin Mints are truly fresh or not (yeah, that was a Honey Badger reference). No way. She's reeled you in and now you HAVE to buy her cookies. Because really, what kind of jerk wouldn't buy a cookie from a baby? Even if she is charging $1.00 for two Thin Mints. Yes, Melody's charging $1.00, A WHOLE DOLLAR, for two Girl Scout cookies..."fresh baked"...I don't think so, Melody. But, to her genius credit, they were cold Thin Mints and that is AWESOME and I pretty much forgot that I thought I was going to be eating a homemade cookie. I even gave her an extra dollar. It's that darn cuteness, even poor people like me will throw in an extra buck for it. So, watch out for Melody everyone, she's smart, she's crafty, she's selling cold Thin Mints and she's probably going to be President some day. I'm dropping off my resume with her tomorrow. I bet she never tried selling rocks.

Three People, One Umbrella...

2011-08-01T09:23:00.000-07:00

Caught in a hurricane near Union Square. It was a very wet situation. (Please excuse Evan, he isn't flicking YOU off. Hi, Meredith!)

Disclaimer (as always): Since my edit page doesn't let me view videos, I have no idea if this one will post.

In the case that it doesn't, I want you to see how I feel:

Hair and My Hood

2011-07-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

On a walk to the liquor store last night, Evan noticed a few very interesting beauty joints in our neighborhood. First...

Yes, this is a window display. Yes, those are weaves hanging from the ceiling. Yes, that is my reflection. Yes, this is a terrible picture. The owner was giving me the stink eye.

Second, and most exciting of all, even more exciting than having a Wendy's five blocks away...

HILARY DUFF OPENED A UNISEX SALON IN WASHINGTON HEIGHTS!!!!!

Rejoice! Finally, I can get the Lizzie McGuire!

Don't let the bed bugs bite.

2011-07-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

When I start feeling insecure about my life (i.e. fearing that I'll never make it as an adult human being), I become sure that I have bed bugs. I hallucinate bites. I itch incessantly. And then I end up taking a flashlight to my mattress (that is, of course, covered in a vinyl sheath)and incessantly staring into the creases for signs of them. One night, when I woke up at 3 worrying about how I'd ever pay off my credit card(s), I decided that, to make myself feel better about debt, I'd get rid of my (nonexistent) bed bug problem. I moved my mattress, bookshelves, and bed side stand and got to work with packing tape...yeah, packing tape, apparently paranoid hysteria makes me dumber...covering all the cracks around the floor of my room. When the clock struck four and I realized that I was crawling around my room like the crazy bitch in that short story The Yellow Wallpaper (remember that one?), I decided I didn't have bed bugs and that the wee hours of the morning were not the time for preventative measures. In all honesty, I just can't believe that bed bugs exist and that we have to think about them in real life all the time. Before I moved to New York, I thought they were just things babysitters talked about to scare you. Now, every mattress I pass, every chair I wish I could steal off the street, is infected and I find myself avoiding such objects by at least 20 feet *see note*. Anyway, I suppose this post is an indication that I'm feeling a little insecure about my life? I mean, I was inspired to write this after I stared at my mattress for 25 minutes... But really, how AM I going to pay off those credit cards??

*note* I once told someone bed bugs could jump up to 6 feet and now it's a lie I've started to believe myself.

It's not quite the same, but here's a picture of me being genuinely terrified of a poster about a bear sighting. This is pretty much how I look when I examine my mattress or my credit card statement.

I respect an honest opinion.

2011-07-27T16:51:00.004-07:00

Especially when I agree with it.

I can finally read Twilight!

2011-07-26T05:54:00.007-07:00

My amazing, awesome, generous parents surprised me with a Kindle. Now, I can read everything I've ever wanted on the subway without feeling shameful about the cover.

My end of summer reading list will include:

1. The Twilight Saga
2. The Hunger Games
3. Something Borrowed
4. The Shopaholic's Series
5. Curva Liscious

I hope people don't read over my shoulder when I get to the good parts in Curva Liscious.

How'd you spend your weekend?

2011-07-25T16:52:00.009-07:00

Thanks for asking!

Just like this...

On the back porch of this...

Looking at this...

and this...

You know, one of the things I love most about the Northeast, is the ease of travel. Jump on a train, ride an hour, and you're there. Except sometimes, trains don't work. Their air conditioning breaks, their wires are destroyed, their employees are disgruntled, I could go on, but I won't. On Friday, Liz and I sat on a train for 4 1/2 hours attempting to get to New London, CT to see Evan and Gregg at The Eugene O'Neill Theater Center. We only made it half way there before we were told that there would be no more Amtrak service (a terrible car accident left them with some messed up wires) and that we'd have to find alternate transportation. Well, thanks to the kindness of two pretty hot strangers with a car, we got there. Yes, we were chauffeured to the least lit corner of Waterford, CT late Friday night by two kind gentleman strangers. AND made a fashionably late entrance with a significantly better story to tell than "I took the train". I also got to pretend like I was Anne of Green Gables for a day. The scenery really reminded me of the part when Anne is on the beach and the pages from her manuscript go flying away and...ummm...okay, sorry. I still can't get over how gorgeous it is out there. So beautiful, in fact, that I was inspired to write a song about moonbeams. I may have had some bourbon before we headed down to the beach, it was a long trip getting there and I deserved it. AND there were bio-luminescent fish swimming around in the ocean aka THE WATER WAS SPARKLY. You would have written a song too.

Anyway, on Sunday I took further advantage of Northeastern train service, this time the Long Island Rail Road, and headed out to Montauk to see Jess and Megan. They are both spending the summer working and now I'm super jealous and wishing I was out there all the time too. It's beautiful. My pictures don't do it justice. I forgot to take many. You can look at these two.

A romantic view of the sunset through a chain link fence...

Summer beach time = frozen drinks.

The only thing I love more than being in New York City, is getting out of New York City. (Yeah, I just wrote that sentence and no, I'm not going to delete it.) It's pretty amazing to have such easy access to so many beautiful places where you can actually see stars. Sigh.

P.S. Can you tell I'm too tired to be posting right now? Sorry for an incoherent blog. Twas a looooong, wonderful weekend.

A Super Fine Suggestion!

2011-07-21T20:18:00.020-07:00

Maria and Ivy are two of the coolest and sexiest women I know. I met both of them in the TriBeCa restaurant where I worked forever and where they spent about a summer (give or take a few months). Ivy, the fantastically talented fashion designer and Maria, the amazingly business minded graphic designer and photographer, have joined forces and created Visantine, a collection of beautiful and incredibly sexy handmade shirts that will be available for purchase this SATURDAY, JULY 23RD at the HESTER STREET FAIR on Hester and Essex streets from 10-6pm.

They have been working their fingers to the bone and cranked out some STUNNING results. I'm so excited for their debut and hope, if you're in the City, that you'll check them out.

Here are some of my favorites from the collection...

GO, GO, GO. Because honestly, who doesn't love a street fair? Especially when you can buy one-of-a-kind blouses and look cooler than EVERYONE!!!

Congratulations, Ivy and Maria!

Happy Weekend!

Strange Encounters.

2011-07-21T09:24:00.006-07:00

This is a picture of me disguised as a stranger.

It has happened to me here a handful of times, that I have encountered the same strangers on multiple occasions. In 2007, I rode with the same cab driver three times in four months. Granted he lived in my neighborhood and started his days around the same time I started my temp jobs, so it's not TOO CRAZY, he picked me up in the same place, at the same time, three times. But it was pleasant that we both remembered each other.

Two summers ago, I crossed paths with the same troubled teenager three times in one season. (I'm nearly positive I've written about this kid, but here I go again.) The first time I met him, I was extremely hungover and just walking out of Wendy's, everyone knows fries are the only true cure for a hangover. Anyway, as I exited, a grungy teen held the door for me. I smiled at him and he asked very nicely if he could borrow some money; he was hungry and had run away from home that week. Being the sympathetic woman I am, I offered him two whole dollars, which is a lot, when I'm probably just as poor as a run away teen. I smiled and started to walk away but he stopped me.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded, "But I'm vegan, and falafel costs like $4..."

I was stunned, so stunned (and impressed) that I gave him two more dollars. I mean, you have to respect a kid with principles I suppose. Cut to about a week later, I'm drunk and out in the Lower East Side and who should come strolling along, but the Vegan Beggar! He asked me for subway fare and I was so surprised that I jumped up and yelled, "HEY! You're the vegan kid I gave $4 to outside of Wendy's!" He promptly left. I guess I embarrassed him. The third time I saw him, he was drinking a soda from Nathan's hot dog shop and I didn't bother to say hello.

Most recently, I have had repeat encounters with a stranger I'm going to call, 'The Blueprint Man'. I've seen the Blueprint Man twice on the train and once, just today, walking around the Upper West Side. He's always on his cell phone and he's always SCREAMING ABOUT HIS BLUEPRINTS AND HOW HE NEEDS THEM STAT!!!! Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure architects absolutely do have urgent needs for their blueprints, but something tells me Blueprint Man is not an architect. My clues: 1. Tear away track pants, not very architect-y 2. Adidas slip on sandals with socks and 3. (My favorite)I mentioned that the man is always on his cell phone, well that includes time spent underground on the subway, deep underground, where no cell phones work. The first time I noticed him was on the 1 train between 145th and 157th streets. There he was yelling away into his phone about his damn blueprints. He was so convincing, that I pulled out my cell phone to see if the MTA had somehow miraculously installed underground cell service. They hadn't...

Running into strangers multiple times is really fun, I think. But it does make you wonder... is there a stranger who sees you all the time??? Maybe somebody has dubbed me, "The Weird Girl Who Takes Pictures of Random Crap and is Always Sweating Her Nuts Off and Cursing Under Her Breath About It." Ya never know.

Oh, and here's a cat disguised as a stranger.

Soooo....

2011-07-20T05:51:00.003-07:00

This is what we're calling massage nowadays?

Hm.

Watch for my favorite moment at 00:42.

What do you think the foot rub looks like?

(Hi! Will you please like my page on Facebook? You can click over there ---> They won't let me be a real page until 25 people like me... I'd write this in a baby voice but then you'd stop reading.)

(Peas! Peas! Peas hlike me! I'm chust a papy!)

(Oh my gosh! A 14 month old baby just walked into my room and typed that and it's just too cute to erase! Sorry!)

Home sweet home.

2011-07-19T10:00:00.004-07:00

There really is no sound more comforting than that of a fire engine. Oh wait, yes there is! FIVE FIRE ENGINES! Last night the whole gang pulled up at two in the morning, sat across the street for approximately seven minutes and then left. I feel like I see this quite often. An overabundance of emergency vehicles that show up, do nothing, and then depart. What is that? Really though, if you're going to wake me up that early, at least put somebody on a gurney or whip out your hose...haha...whip out your hose...that's what she said...

Here's a picture in case that video doesn't work. I'm having major technical difficulties over here!

Cher turned into a poodle.

2011-07-18T13:10:00.009-07:00

I told its owner I'd grown up with a dog just like it so I could take its picture.

*Wouldn't you love to see this baby with beaded island braids?

If I wasn't so busy I'd write more, much more about this gem.

Loves.

*Evan, wouldn't you though?

Yelp!!

2011-07-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

I had always wondered who took the time to sign onto Yelp, create an account, and write about restaurants and bars they'd visited. The owner of the restaurant where I used to work always kept up with Yelps about his place and I was constantly surprised by how often they occurred. Who cared enough to actually think about and write a paragraph concerning a place they'd only been once or twice? If I'd eaten a great burger, for example, my impulse would maybe have been to tell the waiter how happy I was and to send the chef my compliments. I'd never think to go home, sign online, and hunker down to write a blurb about how much I loved that burger. Whoooo would do that?? Well, the answer to my question came last January.

Are you ready?

The Answer Is: I would...yes, I yelped.

(If you can't read it, click on the picture and zoom in. Also, please note that two people voted my entry 'funny'.)

Here's what I enjoy most about my rant. 1. That the second I got home, I marched right over to my computer and let loose (if they posted times, you could see that I wrote this at 4am) 2.The use of all caps to indicate screaming. 3. Colorful, dramatic story-telling. 4. Repetition, especially of the phrase "it is not safe".

I mean, after reading this over, I should maybe consider running for city council or something. I think I have the public's best interest in mind here...

But, really, in defense of that crazy blurb, I HAD been threatened by a screwdriver wielding nut job and was about three Zombie Lemonades in (naturally, we hit up the local tiki bar after we escaped the crazy man).

I don't know if I'll ever Yelp again. I mean, I'm nearly positive I'll never sober yelp but I suppose I now have the answer to my question:

Who yelps?

Me...and a stay at home dad who thinks his kid's chicken fingers took too long to arrive... and a tech savvy grandmother who can smell the trash from the restaurant next door... and a middle aged woman on vacation in the City who found the gelato at Grom absolutely divine. I'm in good company and I think I speak for all of us when I say, "I really hope my yelp helped you. Smiley face."

Out-fitting...

2011-07-14T10:45:00.004-07:00

Yesterday, I left my boss' apartment to run out for a quick iced coffee. It was sunny and super windy and, although it had been drizzling in the morning, I didn't consider for a second grabbing my umbrella. Like I said...it was sunny. I paid for my coffee and left the deli and just as I was pushing the straw through the top of my drink, I felt the first drop. Uh oh. SUDDENLY, there came a huge gust of wind, leaves and street dust flew into the air and my eyeballs and then TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR! A hurricane! Twister! It was like being thrown into a pool. "Oh dear, that sucks," you might remark. Yes, it did. But what's more? I was wearing a white dress. Allll white. I don't have to tell you what that looked like. So yeah, you're welcome weird dude sitting under the awning of that nasty looking Chinese food place, yes, those were Victoria's Secret.

Cut to:

Today, I smartly chose to walk out of my house in an American Apparel body suit. Yes, I said body suit. The main issue I have with these shirts... leotards... whatever they are, is that they're pretty much see through. For that reason, I've taken to wearing these, let's call'em bra pads, to cover what needs to be shielded from the eyes of weird creepy people who stare at my boobs. Here's the problem, they don't breathe, at all. It's kind of like I shoved insulation into my shirt. Now, I have awkward under-boob sweat and the marks on my body suit are just not becoming.

Uh huh, yeah, that's a picture of my boobs sweating. I look like I should be sitting by the lake, barefoot, cussing at squirrels and at least four Miller Lights into my day. What was I thinking this morning? I suppose I should just suck it up, give into my trashy side that is obviously trying its best to break loose, and invest in some flared jeggings.

I DID have a tuna fish sandwich for lunch. Check that off the "eatin' trashy" list.

It. Is. So. Hot.

2011-07-12T20:30:00.004-07:00

Duh, I know, it's summer. Usually, I find talking about the weather pretty boring and obvious, (and yeah, it's probably still going to be) but I think it's worth it today because people do funny things to cope with being sweaty in their everyday clothes. Today, my awesome seersucker dress that's from Target but doesn't look like it's from Target, got soaked and dried about 6 times. At one point, when I thought I might black out, I walked into a Verizon store and just stood there. Juuuuuust stood there. The guy working asked if he could help me and I just looked at him. It was slightly awkward but I was stunned by air conditioner and too tired to talk.

I saw the palest man I've ever seen depart the train with his Hawaiian, yes Hawaiian, shirt unbuttoned. I couldn't decide if I hated him or admired him...he had red chest hair and a lot of it and wasn't ashamed to show it (or maybe he was and was actually just THAT HOT).

It's officially "washcloth on bald head" season, ewww, gross. I wonder if they wash those things day to day, I'm voting 'no'.

I saw a hipster with a paper fan today and thought about how awesome it would be to have that fan and actually use it and not just carry it around closed and dangling from my wrist like a douche bag. I was 'this close' to asking her where I could find one just like it but then I realized what I actually want is a battery-powered Spray Fan, much cooler and more ironic (somehow) than a paper fan.

I admire people who hug, hold hands, kiss, rub elbows, or make any human contact really with anyone outside because there is no way you're not getting that person's sweat on you, which I guess is sexy if you like/love the person. Let me tell you though, I had stranger sweat drip on me once and it is worse, much worse, than having random building moisture hit you in the face (that sucks too though).

Shake Shack in Madison Square Park was PACKED. How in the hell can you eat anything greasy outside when it's 107 degrees?

Finally, one last observation. There's always a sunny side and shady side of the street, right? I ALWAYS choose the shady side because it's an easy 10 degrees cooler. Let me ask you something, and I don't care how tiny your shirt and shorts are, why are you walking on the sunny side? It's so much sweatier over there!

Now, here's a picture of Tom Felton (no relation) sweating at the Harry Potter premiere. I borrowed it from DListed, which is linked over there to the right. You should read that blog too. It's funnier than this one.

Look at this guy's huge ass guitar...

2011-07-10T15:22:00.005-07:00

I wonder if he whittled it himself. Also, here is my attempt to upload a phone video, it may or may not work.

In other news, the last Harry Potter comes out on Friday!

AT LAAAAASSSST!!!! I found the one.

2011-07-09T08:59:00.004-07:00

Here are my top three favorite qualities about my new fiancee, Robert Darling.

1. He's knows what he wants.

2. He's self-employed.Here's his business card.

3. He's highly motivated.

And those are just the top three qualities. Runners up included: fearless, driven, great sense of humor, sensible dresser aka SEXY, creative, well groomed moustache, legible handwriting which falls under the category of literate, extroverted, great smile, and perhaps, most of all, he's just the kinda guy you can take with you to a party and not worry about, you know, he can hold his own in a group of people...and I love that.

We haven't set a date yet, but I'll let you all know when I start gathering addresses for the invitations.

O.M.F.G. Nighthawk

2011-07-08T07:00:00.005-07:00

I'm sorry for you for many reasons if you don't live in New York, but what I'm mostly sorry about today is that you don't get to experience the Nitehawk Cinema. This theater just opened in Williamsburg (ugh, another reason to move to Brooklyn...it took three days to make it out there from Washington Heights)and it is so f'ing awesome. First of all, there are two bars in the building and they have good bourbon. Thank goodness, because according to some dumbfuck law stemming from the Prohibition Era, they can't serve alcohol in the actual theater, that's possibly the Nitehawk's only downfall.
Here's the deal, they serve you dinner. You walk into this tiny theater and there are little two seater tables with menus and the waitress comes and takes your order before the movie starts. Then after you finish eating (gourmet cheesy, limey popcorn, "puppy dogs" aka baby corndogs, tator tots, and deviled eggs, all of which were amazing) you take out the provided paper and pencil and write down your dessert order (homemade ice cream sandwiches, ummm hello!) You then place it in these little paper holders and the waitress comes by to pick it up so you don't have to talk during the movie. Genius, the whole concept, genius. I'm in love. I wish I had better pictures, but somebody wasn't in the mood for posing... Oh, by the way, we saw Submarine and it was medium good. It's worth seeing for the first half.

Summer Crabs (A Special Guest Blog)

2011-07-07T11:31:00.007-07:00

Heeeeyyy, guess what? I'm writing this blog today. My name's Evan, I'm a funky trendsetter from Missouri who appreciates a fun night out on the town or just a fun night in with friends, of course. Do you guys, ummm, do you guys, like gogurt? Hahahahaha. Teeheeughhahahahheeeeheee. Ha. Ugh. Ha. Are you typing this? You are???? Hahahahahah, ahhhhh, haaaa huh huh. There's a hair in my mouth. Ewww, grosss. Ahhhahahaha, heee heee, I'm gonna peee. A hahaha. Ewww.

O. K.

Here are my most anticipated movies for the rest of 2011:
Ummm, the remake of The Wizard of Oz starring Zooey Deschenel that I lied to Megan Doyle about over a year ago. Which is shot in 3-D, but only Toto is in 3-D. Hahaha.
Ummm.
Cannot, ohhhh, cannot...wait...wait what else comes out this summer?
Hold on, lemme look.
Ohhhhh.
Mmmm.
Stop.
You're typing again??? NO, this is gonna make me sound crazy. NOoooooohhh.
Movies Summer 2011. Nobody's gonna read this. But at least it'll be more interesting than your crazy blog about shut in's....

Cannot wait for Zookeeper. Talking animals are hysterical.

If you haven't seen Bridemides, run don't walk, it is hilarious and heartwarming and the biggest laughfest to hit the multiplex since The Country Bears.

Cowboys and Aliens, obviously.

OH!
Oh!
And then all of the August scary movies: Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Fright Night,Final Destination 5, Don't be Afraid of the Dark.

Parnormal Activity 3??

Alright, peace out ya'll.

And happiness.

Love, Evan

Transcription by Brittany Felton I, LLC

A new lease...

2011-07-06T14:46:00.005-07:00

My new life began yesterday when I started working from home. I'm enjoying my new schedule and have done a really great job of actually showering and getting dressed. A fear of mine before this started was that I'd end up with bed sores. I mean, if the option to work from bed was in place, I was pretty sure I'd take it BUT I haven't! Yay for me. Instead, my laziness has manifested itself in my unwillingness to leave the apartment. I've befriended the delivery guy at The Coral Diner. Don't let me fool you, I've had their number stored in my phone for ages, but now that I've ordered from them 5 times in two days, I think the delivery guy and I have started to form an understanding. Today, as he handed me my food, he chuckled and not in a judging way, more in a "I like your outfit today" way. It's sweet and I'm a good tipper. I'll tell you who I have NOT befriended however...this f'ing gnat that somehow got into my room and won't stop biting me. It's making me feel like a crazy meth head because I KNOW it's biting me, I can feel it, but every time I look, he's gone. Okay fine, I haven't actually SEEN the gnat, but I know it's there...I know it. Anyhoodles, I hope my blogs continue to get crazier as I spend more time with myself. Enjoy these pseudo nostalgic pictures I took of my desk where I'm working and of my delivery bag.

Here's an idea...

2011-07-03T10:30:00.002-07:00

Don't eat Pad Thai on the train. I thought you had really rank B.O. until I glanced over and noticed your noodles. Yeah, ya did deserve the stink eye, you're grossing me out. Happy almost Fourth of July.

Harriet the Spy

2011-06-30T05:19:00.004-07:00

Last Christmas, or maybe the Christmas before, my roommate Gregg bought me some binoculars for my bird watching/spying on the neighbors who keep their curtains open while they're doing it. You may have read before that I have a fear of being spied on. This fear probably stems from the fact that I spy on people, but only when they're totally asking for it. I don't like sit around with my binoculars and look from window to window, but movement catches your eye, you know. So, I mean, don't leave your curtains open, especially when you're doing it, and ESPECIALLY when your windows face the rest of the apartments in the building. I'm telling you, some people really want to be watched. I think a lot of New Yorkers probably have the same story: you're innocently walking to your kitchen to get some watermelon and suddenly you're watching your neighbors going at it because their windows are WIDE open. And you know what, at that point, it's not your fault that you're staring. It's shocking. I lived in an apartment once whose windows faced 8th Avenue AND another apartment building and I probably opened my curtains five times in two years. I didn't want anybody spying on me. I also went a little nuts in that place and spent the last three months there shuffling from my room to the couch eating a lot crackers. I also developed a theory that my neighbors had drilled a tiny hole in my wall and set up a camera...but...ummm...I think I was suffering from seasonal depression...we didn't get much light. I'm happy to live on the fifth floor now in a room whose windows face nothing but a great view of the city. It's liberating. And, for all of you who are creeped out, don't worry, my friend Kerry is borrowing my binoculars for the next five weeks for a safari. So, I guess my bird watching will be going out the window for a while.

Gentrifi-whaaa?

2011-06-28T07:35:00.003-07:00

When we moved in two years the Plaza de las Americas was our neighborhood's equivalent of Target (not nearly AS awesome as Target, but ya know, a pretty nice budgety version.) Sadly, when it closed and reopened as The American Place it began to offer a much more limited assortment of goods and mainly just cheap clothing. There's a metaphor here, I'm sure of it.

P.S.A.

2011-06-23T23:47:00.005-07:00

To the woman who looks like a cross between Kathy Nagimy in Hocus Pocus and Hatchetface from Cry-Baby (that Johnny Depp movie that used to play on VH1):

Hi. Hello. I am your waitress and I am taking your order and bringing you your drinks and your food. No, I did not claim at 5 years of age that this is what I wanted to be when I grew up and believe me...I still don't, but here I am bringing you your mayonnaise, an extra slice of tomato, a side of ICE for your Merlot (what?), oh, of course, a clean napkin, I'm sorry, you actually didn't ask for baby spinach instead of romaine, but I'll take it back and have that fixed. I know, I hate it when they skimp on the dressing too. Oh dear, there's too much rum in your MOJITO! Your table is wobbly? The food has taken over ten minutes to appear?? You have to use the restroom but someone else is in there??? OH MY GOD! Guess what? I don't care how shitty that stupid calamari is, at least you had the luxury of ORDERING IT. Also, it's gonna take me a little while, like maybe over 3 minutes, to make your stupid mojito. I have to muddle all that shit together, so shut up about how long it's taking you crazy bitch, you're only paying $4 for a cocktail...in NEW YORK CITY. And what's more, I haven't said anything mean to you! And let's be honest, THERE ARE SO MANY AWFUL THINGS I COULD SAY TO YOU. In actuality, I've smiled and brought you every single one of your 89 requests. I've told you jokes. I've tried to relate to your "diet" woes (even as you shove buttery garlic bread into your stupid mouth.) I've told you your necklace is pretty (even though it's made of varnished cardboard and bought circa 1989 from a craft fair in Massachusetts.) And still, you have the f'ing nerve to tip me *TEN PERCENT* (see note below). Are you joking? Do you know, DO. YOU. KNOW. that I get paid an hourly wage of four dollars?? FOUR DOLLARS??? Get it together lady, that's just bad karma.

No wonder you're so fat and ugly.

xoxo,
Brittany your Waitress

* Tip your servers at least 20%, yes, TWENTY PERCENT, unless, for some reason, they are awful Hatchetfaced buttholes who refuse to offer you good service. It's most likely NOT your waiter's fault that the food is taking awhile, it's the jerks in the kitchen.

Note to Self...

2011-06-23T07:47:00.002-07:00

When on the subway and trying to sneak a picture of some crazy ass boots, make sure to turn off the "camera taking a picture" aka "fake shutter noise" on your cell phone. Otherwise, you will startle the subject and then be forced to improv a lie claiming that the boots are fierce and that you'd like a pair just like them.

The Power of Imagination

2011-06-22T08:24:00.003-07:00

Yesterday, a man burst onto the train and started spray painting the doors, the poles, the floor, the ceiling, I think he may have gotten some fellow passengers. As we rode from 125th down to 116th he didn't stop spraying and let me reiterate, he was craaaaazzzzzyyyy...well, obviously. I had my headphones in as usual to avoid situations just like this and was trying my best to elude eye contact and to keep myself from cameraphoning (did anyone make that word up yet?) the whole mess, but the smell of spray paint was making me sick! And then I started to wonder: What if crazy spray paint wielding hobo man actually has poison in his spray can? Am I just sitting here listening to Adele while some lunatic is Anthraxing me??!! I had to take some action! So I looked up. I took a long hard stare and realized...he wasn't holding a spray can...What? No, in reality this dude can actually just do a mean spray paint can impression and I guess anyone can run around and wave their arms like they're tagging the train. I felt a little silly. But I SWEAR I smelled spray paint/Anthrax. Weird. Anyway, I'm telling myself he was a magic spray painting hobo crazy man able to provide an audience with a smell-o-vision effect. It makes me feel better.

In other news, check out this person's homemade cat costume.

FOUND ON BENCH

2011-06-21T10:49:00.003-07:00

I mean, this is politically incorrect, right? Oreo Barbie? Really, Mattel?

I've been dying to share this picture since we found this doll sitting on a bench outside of the restaurant where I used to work.

Don't You Dare...

2011-06-21T10:29:00.007-07:00

Try and effing tell me that a bunny is an ideal "city pet." Don't tell me it cuddles with you like a cat, I know you are lying. Don't put it on a leash and carry it around in a bag like it's a Pomeranian. Don't bring it to a fucking restaurant, let it run around while you eat in the outdoor cafe, and then act like the people stopping to ask you if you REALLY OWN A BUNNY are the crazy ones. The jig is up. That bunny is shitting all over your apartment and eating your carpet and biting your fingers with its sharp, rabid bunny fangs. I'm onto you fools.

Note: If you are under 5, this post does not apply to you.

Oh hey!

2011-06-20T09:19:00.003-07:00

I've come back to blogging to announce that THERE'S A FUCKING HOLE IN MY KITCHEN FLOOR. Oh and also, we haven't had gas in TWO MONTHS. Oh and guess what else, there's nothing we can do about it because my idiot landlords had some genuises write the lease, which I signed and which says they can take my gas away and I can't do anything about it!!!!!! Unless I want to organize a tenants' association, but that would require talking to neighbors and EWW, I'm not doing that. Sooooo, we've spent the last two months cooking on a hot plate. Well, Gregg has. I stopped using that piece of crap the morning after I blew out all of the power in the apartment by trying to grind coffee at the same time I was allowing it to heat up... I suppose I shouldn't glaze over the fact that the hot plate is courtesy of our idiot landlords who provided "one hot plate per unit" in exchange for "complete cooperation from every tenant." Those are quotes from the heartfelt letter we all recieved along with the news that our gas would be out for six weeks...try nine weeks and counting. Oh, by the way, "complete cooperation" involves allowing strange men into your apartment, uannounced and usually when I'm in my robe or sports bra, to dig holes in your kitchen floor and leave giant messes which you are then required to clean. Well, Gregg cleaned. THANK YOU GREGG! So, yes, I am back to blogging because this was a gripe that begged to be shared.

P.S. If you can figure out how to zoom in on this picture, you may notice the chunk of watermelon Gregg tossed down the hole and into our downstairs neighbors' apartment.

P.S.S. Note that the hole in our ceiling feeds into one of my greatest fears, being spied on. I'm waiting to see a tiny camera appear from the hole...it'll happen...I just know it.

At Your Mercy

2010-03-20T08:57:00.004-07:00

It's taken me four years to fully come to terms with the repercussions of apartment living. You are essentially sharing a giant house with lots of rooms with hundreds of people and therefore, you are at their mercy. Whether it's loud music, strange neighbors that you spy on through your kitchen window with the binoculars your roommate got you for Christmas, fires, smokers, drug dealers, bed bugs, mice, odors, the parrot next door that squawks "mommy" every morning for three hours, or a leak in your bathroom ceiling coming from the unit upstairs (I'll get to that in a minute), there is always something that you have to deal with in a shared living space. I've explained my mouse problem before and I haven't, God help me, experienced bed bugs, I am knocking on wood so hard right now, and luckily there have been no fires, but one day in my last apartment the NYPD came knocking to inquire if I had seen my neighbor in the past week.

New York's finest waiting for the A.

When I told them I had they replied with a hardy, "Good, he's not dead. Thanks." To which I, dumbfounded, answered, "Yeah. Um. Okay." I never really figured out what that was about but I will share that about once a month my entire building REEKED of weed, like, reeked...like there must have been pounds of it somewhere...in. my. building. That neighbor was pretty shady and sometimes I do wonder if he's still alive.

Anyway, cut to now. We have moved to a beautiful, pre-war building uptown and it is huge and we love it, but with it's 100 year birthday on the way, comes some wear and tear.

Here we are in our living room.

A few nights ago, our bathroom ceiling started leaking, just a gentle drip. Within three hours, however, the ceiling was bubbling and leaking in four places and a day later water was coming out of our light fixtures and brown streaks were dripping down my wall AND I was woken up by two firemen at my door here to check out what was going on...although I'm still not sure why they were here.

Our poor ceiling and my sad wall.

It's now four days later, our super has assured us that it's only a broken pipe which has now been fixed and that these things are to be expected in old buildings, but the ceiling is still dripping and my wall is still brown and, yeah, I'm stressing about the mold that is bound to form. But, you know what, I'm just going to go with it, deal with the problems as they come, take lots of pictures and imagine myself laughing about it all in months to come. Besides, there's something kind of nice about sharing your space with others. I've learned to trust, go with the flow, use 311 regularly, and to keep the lights off in my room when looking out my window at night.

OMG, You're so Funny!

2010-03-11T11:55:00.003-08:00

I wish I could just post these videos here, but unfortunately, my computer cannot handle it. BUT, my new Acer is on the way, hurray!

Anyhoo, Sunny n Trish, these two ridiculous girls, really want to be on TV. Here are their first three audition videos. Enjoy!

Watch our webisodes! Sunny n Trish !

I Tried My Best...

2010-03-02T06:55:00.009-08:00

...I really did. I wasn't going to talk about my trip home this week because, ya know, I didn't want to seem like a whiny baby but the situation has reached such absurd heights that it would be criminal not to at least share some of the details. The reason for my trip this weekend was for Andrea (a good college friend) 's wedding. I had it all planned out, I'd fly into Atlanta on Thursday, spend a few days at home and then drive myself to Augusta on Saturday for the wedding. I even had a hotel room booked...at the Marriott, this was going to be a major event. So, yeah, I got in on Thursday morning having missed the New York City blizzard by hours, my mom picked me up and we had a nice lunch, thought about shopping, decided we had the rest of the trip to do that and instead went home and got ready for a big family dinner, cousins, uncle and girlfriend and grandfather and girlfriend attending. I'll take just a moment here to throw in that my grandfather, dubbed The Silver Fox by adoring fans, is now dating one of my late grandmother's best friends. It sounds trashier than it is I think (keep in mind I come from a long line of Jethro Jeromes). Linda assures me that it's what my grandmother would have wanted, but having known my grandmother, I question whether that is true or not... Anyway, we had a great time at dinner loudly joking about Grandaddy Jerry and Linda's upcoming shotgun wedding due to her miraculous post-menopausal pregnancy. My teenage cousins cringed, my parents guffawed, my uncle asked for another beer, and I revelled in the fact that my grandfather's greeting to me was, (with a thick Virginia drawl) "Brittany, you look frail and thin." Oh we had a grand time and I came home, stomach full, tired from my flight, and ready for bed. And here's where the story really begins. Fasten your seat belts, dear readers, you're about the catch a ride on the Vomit Train! Yaaaay!

At around 3AM I awoke from a feverish nightmare. A waiter had placed a salad covered in bleu cheese and pears, not unlike the one I had consumed hours earlier, in front of me and I was fighting to make him take it away before I got sick. It was quite a movie awakening, I sat straight up in bed, heard my stomach rumble, and, "Uh oh..." I uttered aloud. The next 10 hours of my life, count them TEN hours were spent literally crawling from my bed to my bathroom. It was horrendous. I was struck and struck hard by the stomach flu that has been sweeping the nation. Honestly, I thought I'd make it through the Winter having conquered the virus, immune to the stomach flu I thought. Everyone else had already gotten it, but not me, I was resistant. Conqueror of sickness! Karma does not treat arrogance with sympathy. I was out for a good two days and had to miss the wedding. Tragedy. But, "It's alright," I thought. The stomach flu is a great way to lose weight and work out and I still have three days to hang out with the parents. My mom and I can go see some movies, do the shopping we missed on Thursday, just have some girl fun...My thoughts were soon quieted by the rumble of her tummy as we watched "Couples Retreat" Saturday night On Demand. I knew from the urgency of her dash to the bathroom, this wasn't going to be pretty. She assured me, "No, I'm not going to get it, I am NOT going to get it," but I could tell from the look in her eyes, she could feel it. She could feel the vomit rising. And at 11 o'clock, the virus took hold. Bonnie Lynn was down for the count. I took a deep breath, well not that deep, I mean consider all that's been going on in this house, and resigned myself to the fact that this Mommy/Daughter trip was a bit of a dud, we were just going to have to be each other's nurses. It happens. We'll laugh about it in the future, and besides some quality Daddy/Daughter time was definitely in order.

The next day, Bonnie was finally resting peacefully on the couch and my dad was relaxing with his cup of coffee. With the smirk of a veteran talking to a young soldier I asked, "So, do you think you're next?" And with the assurance against sickness my family for whatever reason has he answered, "No way. I'm not getting it. I've decided, I'm not getting it." I was suspicious, but I went along with the fantasy. I even envisioned us sharing a beer that night, having dinner somewhere in the neighborhood. My dreams were cut short by the familiar gurgle that came sometime around 7pm. "Well, I'm off to bed," Dad explained as he headed to his room at the absurdly early hour. "But it's only 7, Dad," I reminded him. "Have to be up early for work," he said. And I then I recognized it, a familiar glance, I could see it in his eyes, he knew it was coming. He knew it. And sure enough, at 4AM, I heard the bathroom fan come on in my parents' room and BAM, Jethro Jerome, third man down.

I'm not ashamed to say that, by Monday, yes that would be yesterday, I was more than ready to get back to the City. I've basically been living in a hospital for a week and c'mon my parents are in their mid 50s. I should have at least another 20 years before I have to start taking care of them, right?! I promptly looked up flight schedules and decided that I'd move my Tuesday flight up from 6:40PM to an afternoon flight, maybe around 1 or 2. Unfortunately, in order to switch a flight on Delta, you have to wait until three hours before departure to change, otherwise it's a charge of $150, obviously, not happening. I went to bed last night planning on getting up and getting on my noon flight home. Oh fate, you do have a sense of humor. I didn't even have to call Delta this morning. No. They called me. To tell me that my flight was cancelled. All flights today are cancelled in fact. Because there's a snow storm. In Georgia. Yeah, there's a snow storm in Georgia. After missing the NYC blizzard by hours and making it home in time for the wedding that I missed anyway, the snow found me...in Georgia.

So, my friends, here I sit, at my kitchen table, the table where I spent 18 years of my life, and I say to you, "Pray for me." Pray that I get out of here tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I love my parents, love them, but if I spend another minute trolling through On Demand for another chick flick, my eyeballs are literally going to start bleeding. And no one wants that, really, nobody wants that right, RIGHT?!!!!!!

help.

The Mice, The Dead Ones

2010-02-27T22:06:00.007-08:00

I suppose I should consider myself lucky, I'm not the type to shudder and squeal at a rat running from trash bag to trash bag as I walk down the street. Live rats scurrying around subway tracks,to me, a distraction while waiting for the train. My first apartment was overrun (ok, not overrun, but inhabited by several) mice and they were, kind of, cute. But put any sort of dead or captured rodent in front of me and I will LOSE.MY.MIND. And you think dead or captured would be the favorable position for such a creature, consider me an animal rights activist I guess, I'd much rather them be able to run away from me. I think my phobia of dead mice stems from an experience in my first apartment. As I mentioned, we had a bit of a mouse problem. At night I would unmake my bed, of course, and throw one of my giant heavy pillows onto the floor. Come the next morning I would make up my bed and replace said heavy pillow. One morning, call it, The Last Morning of the Heavy Pillow, I picked it up to uncover, get ready, a completely flattened mouse underneath. And I mean, a perfectly, arms and legs sprawled out, his tongue probably extended, dead flat mouse... Panic. Sheer panic. I ran around the apartment screaming, at 7 in the morning, waking both of my roommates and forcing them to dispose of the tiny dead animal. I couldn't handle it. Who could really? And can you imagine the timing of that incident? I just happened to throw my pillow down right as the little thing ran under it and then I happened to step down on the pillow right afterward accounting for the utter flatness of it. Nightmares. Needless to say, the pillow was bagged and trashed. Here's another example... the other day I walked into a "place that will go unnamed", to the sight of, and I tear up even as I type this, a mouse stuck to a sticky trap...alive. Hyperventilation. I started crying and I couldn't breathe. And to make matters worse, a person, if you can even call someone as inhumane a person, proceeded to pick up the trap with the mouse on it and taunt me with it. I haven't spoken to the "person" since. Who does that? Really? Also, who uses the STICKY TRAPS? I mean, c'mon, at least get the snap ones so no one has to suffer as much. Jeez. Listen, I know I'm going to have to see mice and rats all the time, this is New York City, but I hope, for my sake, the only ones I'll see in the future, will be happily scurrying along their merry way. And also I wanted to share these pictures that were in the Best of '09 Issue of New York Magazine. They made me laugh. I found them online at Gothamist.

And, yeah, that rat is dead. But the story is pretty funny. Click that Gothamist link to read it.

Upon reflection...

2010-02-17T09:49:00.006-08:00

I've realized a few things:

1. I never told you how the "Winning Hearts and Minds" Cake won over the hearts and minds of Kerry and Tibi. Here's how amazing it looked.

It tasted even better.

And, did I mention that Kerry MADE cheese for the appetizer, poo-poo platter portion of the evening? He maaaaaade ricotta. It was amazing.

2. I never really talk about New York anymore, just what I've cooked and eaten, and, while I find that endlessly entertaining, I realize it may be boring and a little creepy to the 7 of you who actually read my blog. So, I thought I'd tell you how I spent AN HOUR at the post office yesterday in line behind ONE person. That's right. An hour. Honestly though, there's really not much to be expected when a 75 year old woman who can barely stand is the one searching through shelves of unorganized packages to find your one tiny envelope. And, here's the kicker, the package I was picking up wasn't even exciting. It was face wash. I'm not sure that a slow post office is unique to New York. Actually, I'm sure it isn't. What is pretty special though, is the protests put up by New Yorkers. (I can't call myself a real New Yorker for at least another year...) The giant woman two people behind me in line proceeded to walk through the post office screaming "Somebody help me!" with inflection implying she'd lost a child...or her mind. The man directly behind me called people on his phone and loudly discussed the 'old bitch who caint even walk or see' working the pick up desk. It was mildly upsetting considering she heard every word, but, at 35 minutes in, I didn't really care about sparing her feelings anymore. And at the end of the line stood a sweet little lady who just kept muttering under her breath, "If only they'd hire the young..." I kept my cool. It was a little like seeing free theatre. And I can't say that I'd do any better working at the post office. I'd probably take a snack break every 4 1/2 minutes too if I was 75 and had to deal with people pointing out my old age all day.

3. As you can see from the picture above, it has been a snowy mess in the City and I thank GOD for my rain boots. They make me fearless and anything that can do that, I welcome. Growing up in Georgia, we didn't get much snow, and when we did, I would FREAK OUT. I find it funny that now I cringe at the sight of it. Instead of the burst of excitement, I grunt and curse like an old grandma. (I probably sound just like the woman from the post office) And the snow yesterday wasn't even pretty. It was wimpy and didn't even fall, the slightest gust of wind and it was blowing upwards. It was like walking around inside one of those really cheap crappy dollar store snow globes. The kind that have that nasty plastic snow that sticks to the sides. Not a fan. So, after spending an hour at the post office and a good time in the snow globe I decided comfort food was in order.

And yes, now I amuse myself with pictures of what I ate yesterday!!!

I sort of made up a vegetable stew and used my immersion blender to make it thick. Love that tool! And I added a little cinnamon to it. I learned that from Giada. It's incredible how good and comfy (can you describe food as comfy?) it will make a soup. Try it.

It looks a little gross. But, it's not.

Then I made oatmeal cookies because I've been in the mood. I followed the recipe on the container top. They. Are. Great. I used a 1/4 cup less butter because two sticks just sounded terrifying.

Anyway, the meal was really good and I felt happy.
Happy Wednesday!

What makes...

2010-02-14T17:45:00.002-08:00

...blush (as in the wine) pink?

Happy Valentine's Day. Circa 2007.

Birthday Stroll

2010-02-08T10:46:00.004-08:00

Happy Birthday, Jess!!!

I'm a Big Girl

2010-02-05T09:12:00.007-08:00

And, yes, as I have cooked and baked more in the last two weeks than I have in the past 10 years, I'm going to continue with the pictures of my creations! I'm a master scone maker... Yep, and I make a mean cup of coffee. And I already did my taxes and have started a savings plan from now until April 15 when I have to surrender $645 to New York. Buttholes. Anyway, I bought a plane ticket home for the end of the month for my friend Andrea's wedding and I'm so excited to get out of the City for a bit. Cooking, taxes, and a plane ticket, I'm pretty much an adult now.

We ate all the scones...

Had too much caffeine...

And Evan ended up on the fire escape in his bathrobe.

On Saturday, I'm going to Kerry and Tibi's for dinner and I made the "Winning Hearts and Minds" cake as an engagement present. It's in my freezer because, according to my best friend Molly...(Orangette), the texture improves that way. Can't wait to try it.

Aren't our formica counter tops sexy?

It's Hard to Blog...

2010-01-31T10:21:00.007-08:00

...when Varsity Blues is on TBS. I should just turn it off, but the whipped cream part is on and they're actually SHOWING it on TV. It's officially the '90s folks! Anyway, I have a few things to report.

My radiator...is.an.asshole.

It may look sweet and innocent, but believe me, it is NOT.

Not only does it dry out my throat and sinuses, I can barely swallow when I wake up. But, what, you may ask, are my books doing all over your floor?

(VB Update: James Van der Beek is giving the "I don't want your life" speech, classic.)

Well, I came home the other to the sound of my hissing radiator spraying steam ALL over my books. They are soaked. My poor books. They're still not dry, they may never be and therefore, I will spend this Winter freezing because I am never turning my radiator on again. So there.

But, whatever. I made buckwheat pancakes this morning (also a Molly Wizenberg recipe). They were amazing. They really were SO good and doughy and I ate 4 of them by myself. Yep. I cooked just for myself this morning. Aren't you proud?

So yeah...ummmmmm.

Hmmm, what IS this post about?

I don't know either.

Oh well.

You can blame TBS and James van der Beek's fantastic Southern accent. I'm pretty distracted.

It turns out...

2010-01-27T10:05:00.005-08:00

I like hosting, baking, and cooking, in that order. Over the past 5 days, I cooked for Gregg's birthday, baked scones, and, this morning, made the MOST amazing oatmeal buttermilk pancakes ever...EVER. I've been obsessed with Orangette lately and Molly Wizenberg (the creator's) book A Homemade Life and am now attempting to be her by cooking everything she does. Am I lame? Maybe a little creepy? It's fine. Props to Bonnie for the best cake recipe ever. I only had one meltdown baking that when two of my mixers broke and I sat on the kitchen floor cradling them. Thank God for the immersion blender and it's whisk attachment. FYI, I think I've consumed 6 sticks of butter this week. In semi-related (it is his birthday week)news, Gregg signed his first BROADWAY contract!!! We're famous at The Artists' Colony, did I mention that's what we call ourselves here? Okay, here's some pictures from the week.

Party photos courtesy of Evan Enderle and Liz Layton and probably Gregg took some too and maybe Megan.

Love love love. See more party photos at my flickr page.

Tea and Vodka

2010-01-18T08:25:00.005-08:00

Last week Kerry and Tibi (who just got engaged! Hurray!!!!) took me to a tiny Russian vodka bar on 52nd St. called Uncle Vanya's. Inside it's very cozy, very red, there's a piano, and a tiny bar and some tables, very quaint. We ordered Russian tea, which usually comes with cookies and sour cherry preserves, they were out of cherries...yes, upsetting, but we had it anyway. And then...they bring you the vodka. We had five flavor choices and decided first to go with lemon. Drinking like a Russian simply includes a jug of vodka and three shot glasses. And, no, you don't sip the vodka, you shoot it. After nine, NINE, shots of lemon and cranberry vodka, I took this video...sideways.

Cheers!

Imma Try This Agin...

2010-01-15T11:32:00.005-08:00

Yeah, I guess I kind of miss blogging. I had SUCH a busy Fall...pause for a giggle...ummm, and I'm lazy and I've just had THINGS TO DO. Anyway, I'm back and I got a new camera for Christmas!!!! And I love it so I started a flickr page, yaaay, go here to see it. In all honesty, I have had an eventful Fall. I moved uptown to the most amazing apartment in the world, it's as big as your house, if you have one, and I'm really happy about that. I went home for a week to spend Christmas with my family and I thought I'd make my triumphant return with a few photos from the trip. Happy New Year!

Storm Over SoHa...

2009-08-19T08:28:00.006-07:00

A few reflections...
1. I should think about cleaning my windows.
2. Yes, that is My So Called Life playing in the background.
3. By my comments, I think you can tell that I was BLOWN away by the lightning.
4. Doesn't the rain rushing down the street look like a tsunami...?
5. It's long and kind of boring, but hey, now I know I can add videos to my blog (even if it takes 45 minutes to do so).

Wishing I was here...

2009-07-21T10:38:00.003-07:00

...Wishing I 'were' here?...
Grammar.

Picky hobo, Tricks are for...Hos.

2009-07-11T07:51:00.002-07:00

A few nights ago a man got on the train and gave me and all the other ladies a rose. "How nice," I thought, "New York is such a wonderful city." The man then announced that he would be taking donations for the flowers. "Hmmmm," I thought, "Alright, I suppose that's valid," and I handed him a dollar. He looked at my donation, looked at me, and said very matter of factly, "It's a $5 minimum." I was confused. "You said donation," I uttered. "Yeah, $5," he replied. I was appalled and pissed. Come on. Who in their right mind would pay $5 for a freaking flower. Jeez. I took my dollar back and angrily handed him back his stupid rose. This incident reminded me of a time a few years back when I had just moved here. Standing outside of a Wendy's having just taken massive amounts of fries and frosty to my face, I was approached by the saddest looking boy I'd ever seen. "Hi, I'm 16 and I ran away from home and I'm starving. Can you help me?" he uttered. How could I resist? I'm NOT made of stone. I gave him $2, which is all I had left after my Wendy's excursion. He looked at the $2 and then back at me and said, "Hey, I'm a vegetarian though and falafel costs at least $4." Well, I'm 25 and broker than balls so suck it up and eat some Wendy's fries. Nevertheless, I gave him an extra dollar and told him good luck. Yeah, I'm a sucker for young runaways. Funnily enough, I was approached by the same homeless vegetarian two times after this and he didn't remember me or my generosity which REALLY upset me. I'm obviously still getting over it.

All in all, I think that what can be said for both of these situations is "know what you want and don't stop until you get it." Keep on dreaming, folks.

I Made a Pie...

2009-07-08T20:43:00.006-07:00

Practicing my new found financial responsibilities, I've been grocery shopping weekly and stocking up on money saving essentials (peanut butter, pasta, etc...) Today I reflected on the fact that I ALWAYS want dessert and decided to make myself a pumpkin pie. Yes, I know it's summer and I should be thinking more lemon meringue, strawberry rhubarb, maybe even cherry, but pumpkin is my absolute fave and I find it serves multiple purposes as a dessert and an acceptable choice for a balanced breakfast. I baked my pie this afternoon and, having THE worst oven in the world, I encountered only a few mishaps during the actual baking process. (It only took me an hour to realize that the oven wasn't actually on, bringing the total baking time to a quick 2 and 1/2 hours.) Once my pie was finished I proudly set it on a cake stand and put it in the window to cool. It occurred to me at this point how funny the image of a "pie in the window" is in my kitchen as opposed to say, my mother's. Her kitchen window overlooks a beautiful backyard fenced in with white pickets while mine looks out onto... a brick wall. I found it so funny that I HAD to document it with the perfect photograph.

After previewing my picture I decided I didn't like the angle and decided to move my pie to the other side of the window and get the great shot I was envisioning. I picked up the cake stand with pie on top and...

Anyway, here's what I had hoped the picture would look like.

Don't worry, the tears dry on their own.

Rain and Mosquitos

2009-07-01T07:29:00.006-07:00

I'm writing this with an ice pack held to my face. I woke up today and immediately noticed that I couldn't see normally out of my left eye.
"Must be REALLY tired," I thought to myself as I rolled out of bed and sleepily made my way into my bathroom. It was the reveal of my droopy morning face that was rather alarming, my left eye lid is the size of a baseball... okay, that's an exaggeration, but it is definitely really puffy.
"What in the hell?" I exclaimed to myself as I poked the afflicted lid. Suddenly, my mind flashed back to the incessant buzzing in my room before I drifted off to sleep. I remembered thinking I'd killed the mosquito after he bit my cheek, wrist, and elbow multiple times, but apparently, he's a resilient little bastard. He's obviously bit me in the eye and I'm sure I now have malaria or swine flu or hysterical blindness.
Dealing with my finances yesterday, I recognized a need within myself to blame SOMEONE for any problem I have in my life. Finding no one but myself to be mad at about my credit card debt, I will absolutely be seeking SOMEONE to answer for my left eyeball. And that someone is you New York. Yep, you.
Let's discuss the weather, a favorite topic amongst New York and its inhabitants. It has NOT STOPPED RAINING in at least a month and a half. What does this have to do with the mosquito, you're probably wondering. I'm getting there. Because it has been raining NONSTOP every single damn day, it hasn't really gotten hot. Therefore, I haven't had to turn on my A.C. yet, which I guess is pretty great considering the money I'm saving (see: aforementioned financial crisis)so, instead, I've had my window open for a month. I hadn't even thought about bugs coming in because I live on the third floor and bugs can't fly that high...right? Well, I hypothesize that the scaffolding outside my window has provided perfect cesspools for mosquito breeding. Lord knows there's been plenty of rain and just the right amount of heat for the shits to multiply and fly into my room and bite my eyeballs and I am pissed, I am PISSED. So, here's what I have to say to YOU, New York. Dry up. Get a life. It's summer, I'm supposed to be having fun and drinking a lot and being carefree not worrying about my umbrella and my rain boots and my swollen eyeball...
I'm sorry, I'm just angry and I look like the elephant man right now. It's not REALLY your fault but, ugh, god, let's just...wow... we can just talk more about this later.

Big Buck Hunter Safari

2009-06-27T13:30:00.003-07:00

...is the best game in the world. Period. I've only experienced it once at HiFi on Avenue A and 11th and it was honestly a life-enriching experience. If you're ever lucky enough to find another BBHS please let me know. It's easier to find bars that have regular Big Buck Hunter or BBH Pro. Here's a list:

Hi Fi (duh, I already told you)
Alligator Lounge (W'burg)
The Abbey (W'burg)
7B (East Vill)
Cheap Shots (I think East Vill)

Don't Shoot The Cows.

The end.

Debt: The New Black?

2009-06-13T10:53:00.006-07:00

I've been thinking about this "living pay check to pay check" business recently. Mostly around the 3rd of every month when rent clears, my bank account hits $12, and I think about how much I love my credit card for buying me that $13 sandwich I've been craving. I turned on my air conditioner for 30 seconds today, considered the $10 it would cost me to keep it running any longer and immediately switched it back off and thought about reading a Suze Orman book for some guidance. She was on Oprah semi-recently and I've had the episode saved on Tivo for probably a month but I just cannot bring myself to watch it. Ignorance is bliss, right? It's good to be surprised by an overdraft fee... who doesn't love surprises...they make you feel alive...? I've tried to blame my debt and financial irresponsibility on New York: "Well, I've had a long day, it's not my fault beer is $7" "Well that salad is $14, I have to eat" "Ummm, yeah, but my metrocard is $81, there's no other way to get around" "But I'll never be able to find this shirt anywhere else, I know it's $75 but I have to keep up with New York style..." In the most recent issue of Time Out New York there's a quiz called, "Do you belong in New York?". I scored a 99 which means yes I do belong here but sometimes I question if I really WANT to be here as opposed to, say, on a farm, in a smaller city, etc. And I do think about that, if I were in, say, Atlanta or Montana would I be in the financial shambles I find myself in today. The answer I think is probably "no", but I'd be miserable right? Right! So for now, I'm going to continue telling myself that debt is sexy. It's a rite of passage. Chalk it up to my inexperience as an adult. I'm 25 dammit! I deserve that Marc Jacobs purse! Anyway, one day I'll be rich enough to just pay everything off in full! Ugh. Anyway, this entry has made me hungry, I think I'll seamless web myself some Kitchenette. Thanks Visa.

Why not?

2009-06-10T12:07:00.003-07:00

While bartending last night, two guys came in, had two diet cokes, and told me about the two week road trip they were currently taking. Best buddies, one the them works on a tug boat "30 days on and 30 days off", and decided that there was no better way to spend his month off than with a good long drive with his best friend. They're both recovering alcoholics from Arkansas, one 13 years sober, the other 3, and are on a mission to visit as many AA meetings as they can while on the trip. Anyway, it made me miss my time on the road so I thought I'd post a picture from mine and Evan's trip.

Also, what's with the chilly breeze in June? Do we love unseasonable weather or not? I'm up in the air over it...

The Ballad of Jeri and Brittany: The Conclusion

2009-05-29T15:52:00.013-07:00

The last time we caught up with Jeri and Brittany, Jeri had entered an alcohol induced coma. Once she regained consciousness, Brittany decided to confront her about her worries.

And she locked herself in the bathroom.

And now, the conclusion of, The Ballad of Jeri and Brittany...

Brittany begged Jeri to let her in...to the bathroom...to her life.

Finally, she broke down the door.

Jeri's pattern of self destruction was repeating itself.

And Brittany was there once again to hold her.

Brittany finally decided to pose an ultimatum.

And Jeri decided to get help.

Life is getting back to normal now.

Jeri has started writing again.

And Brittany, well, she's just glad to have her friend back.

Be well and have peace. Everyone.

The Ballad of Jeri and Brittany: Part 2

2009-05-21T09:52:00.009-07:00

Last week we were left wondering if Jeri would survive her disease, substance abuse. Brittany came home to find Jeri, post binge.

And now, the continuing story.

Like any good friend, Brittany was there, holding Jeri's hair back...

...telling her everything would be okay.

But Brittany was beginning to worry.

Jeri's mood swings were getting out of control. One minute ecstatic...

...the next...immobile.

It was putting a real strain on the friendship.

Brittany decided one night to confront Jeri about her fears.

But Jeri would hear none of it.

And she locked herself in the bathroom for hours.

Tune in next week for the finale of The Ballad of Jeri and Brittany.

The Ballad of Jeri and Brittany: Part I

2009-05-15T06:18:00.011-07:00

I haven't signed into my MySpace page in ages, but I did yesterday and remembered this photo essay I made alone one night in my first apartment in New York. It's going to come in installments. Enjoy.

In any friendship...

there's good times...

...bad times...

...great times...

...but sometimes, hardship befalls a friendship.

Brittany came home one night to discover Jeri...

...post binge.

More to come...

Subway Stalkers

2009-05-14T08:48:00.002-07:00

If you think you’re inconspicuously staring at a fellow subway passenger, chances are the person you’re looking at is thinking “stoplookingatme stoplookingatme stoplookingatme”. Really though, we all know what it’s like when you just want to get back to your apartment without any human interaction on the way. When the thought of talking to anyone makes you want to throw up. When you seriously contemplate drop kicking the next person who accidentally brushes against your elbow. Have the decency to realize that if you’ve been staring at a person for at least 45 seconds and they haven’t acknowledged you with even a quick glance they DO NOT want to talk to you and obviously want to be left alone. So, get over your giant ego and let it go. Don’t continue staring, don’t ask what they’re reading, don’t even comment on their lovely rain boots. Trust me, there is no good jumping off point for a conversation that is bound to turn into a boring, life-sucking exchange that will probably leave both parties feeling worse, if not, really awkward afterwards. Save it for the bar when at least there’s other people and alcohol as a distraction...and excuse. Don’t trap people on the train, it’s just shitty.

Written 12/1/06

Buckets

2009-05-06T22:11:00.008-07:00

It's rare to find yourself alone in a giant movie theater. I suppose, outside of your own apartment, it's rare to find yourself alone anywhere in New York and this is why I found it so peculiar to be in the situation this evening. Alright, I'm explaining this badly already. I was alone in this theater for about 15 minutes watching The Twenty (love Regal Cinemas) when a few people straggled in bringing the attendance of the 9:30 showing of State of Play to a whopping 5 in a theater capable of seating, at least, a couple hundred. Now, here's a question for ya. When there are 195 seats available to choose from, why IN THE HELL would you sit ONE SEAT away from me? No joke. Yes, I had positioned myself in a prime spot, the perfect number of rows back, right in the middle, but c'mon, I was the first person there and, as the early bird, I was entitled to the best seat in the house AND a row to MYSELF. Ugh. It gets better. This was one of those fancy theaters that has two rows of leather chairs with every two seats separated by a table with cup holders (if I could draw it for you I would). Well, this man sat on the other side of MY DAMN TABLE, so really, he wasn't even a true seat way from me. We were sharing a table, MY table, where I had already positioned my popcorn and Buncha Crunch, which I promptly removed in protest. But wait. The butthole then proceeded to TAKE OFF HIS SHOES, again I am NOT kidding, sigh like he was in his own damn living room and make himself just as comfortable as he could, all the time, in MY space. Tacky. Just tacky. He spent the entirety of the previews commenting about the speed of the credits and how it's unfair that he can't read fast enough to catch who's in which upcoming flick and he ate SO MANY wint-o-green lifesavers I'm surprised his mouth didn't corrode to mush. Luckily, I found the movie enjoyable enough to forget about the dumb dumb next to me for most of it, but I'm sure the loathing energy seeping off of me every time I heard him unwrap a mint was palpable.

So, I'm stating for the record, the etiquette for sparsely attended movies everywhere:
1.If there are enough rows to go around, each individual or couple gets their OWN.
2.If there are not enough rows, at least 5 seats should be kept between each individual or couple and the next.
3.Do NOT, under any circumstances, take off your shoes in the theater.
4.If you must eat candy during the movie, make sure it's not something as powerfully odored as wintergreen and unwrap your damn mints BEFORE the movie starts.

And finally, if you are the freak of nature that infiltrated my personal bubble tonight, you can go to hell, that was MY table and MY row.

Oh yeah, and it's been raining buckets here for a week straight and I am just in a STATE over it. Again and finally, I am NOT joking.

Photo Credit: digg.com

Sanitized

2009-05-03T07:49:00.006-07:00

Living in a big city during the threat of a pandemic is quite interesting. Not that New Yorkers are ever warm and cuddly, but the added sense of sterility and coldness to one's fellow man is bordering on hysterical. At Duane Reade the other day, I saw two people fighting (while covering their mouths and keeping a safe distance from one another) over the last mini-bottle of hand sanitizer. Riding the train home two nights ago, I sat next to a woman who got up and huffed a robust "Awww HELL no" when a fellow passenger coughed behind us. My boss has installed so much antibacterial soap in our restaurant that I'm beginning to feel like an obsessive compulsive germophobe (germAphobe? germIphobe? hmmmm). Anyway, my hands are close to bleeding, I've washed them so much...that's a lie.

Swine flu has infiltrated my psyche so intensely I've begun to dream about it. Two nights ago I went to Mexico and spent a restless 8 hours freaking out about ice cubes in drinks and public restrooms. I woke up very stressed. Here's my question though... Does ANYBODY actually know ANYONE who actually HAS swine flu or bird flu or sars or anthrax or [insert pandemic of the day]? I'd love to know. Until I get to the bottom of this though, I'm going to be a good CNN viewer and continue washing my hands raw and tossing and turning my way through to the end of this nightmare.

4

2009-04-29T18:06:00.009-07:00

So, here's the thing. In computer years, mine is about 97 years old. I'm waiting for it to fall, break a space bar, and lose it's will to live and I'm telling you this to excuse myself for being a lazy blogger. There, I feel better. I shouldn't blame my electronics for my lack of motivation, but, honestly, until I can afford a new camera, I just don't know how many new pictures can be added. Oh! Woe is me.

Anyhow, I do have some news. I've finally become a real true member of the New York Road Runners Club. Yes, that's me. I ran my first race two weeks ago in Central Park with my best girl Megan and it was the most amazing 4 miles of my life, mostly because I ran... ALL of them.

And, you get bagels at the end. No better motivation than that.

So, now that I know I can make it four, I've decided to try for 13.1 miles. I'm going to begin training for the New York City Half Marathon next week. Can you believe it? Me neither. So, here's the deal. I'm running with Team in Training, a society that raises money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and I have pledged to raise $1800 for them by August 1st. Super exciting. So, if you're feeling generous, head here and donate whatever you can. Or just leave me a comment and tell me you think it's/I'm cool!

So, to wrap this one up, I thought I'd let you in on a little secret that my computer is begging me not to share. It took him 45 minutes to produce this short entry. It could have been done, neigh, SHOULD have been done in 15. Shame on you, computer. You can bathe your damn self tonight.

How Couldn't I?

2009-04-23T10:05:00.000-07:00

Happy Thursday!

I'm a bad blogger.

Hey, New York! Blow Me!

2009-04-14T16:15:00.006-07:00

What is up with this wind? I repeat this to myself at least a dozen times EVERYDAY it seems, "What is UP with this WIND?" Okay, I know, in New York City, we all expect to deal with the elements. Rain, snow, dog poop, but honestly, the gale force gusts that seem to continually circulate throughout the City are really just beginning to be a little much. I've stopped counting the times the hems of my skirts have floated up to the tip of my hairline when exiting a cab, walking out my front door, or traipsing down to the subway. At this point, God only knows how many strangers have seen my underwear. Today I paid $35.95 for my New York State taxes. Funny thing is, I only owed FIVE dollars but, leave it to the City to manipulate me into staying on my couch. Was I about to brave today's evil, rainy, wind and drag myself to a Kinko's, print my return, and mail it? No. I opted instead to pay Turbo Tax $30.95 to do it for me. And it's your fault. Yes, New York, I'm talking to you. It's also your fault that I ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Strawberries and Cream. I know it was Light, but STILL. Your gusts put me in such a state of distress that there was nothing I could do but stop at Rite Aid and buy comfort food. And you KNOW how eating my feelings makes me feel. Depressed. And sad. And hefty. You know what, you're a big, FAT, apple, that's right, a big, FAT, APPLE. You smell and you're dirty. You are the most unhygienic entity I have EVER encountered. And you're rude. You are SO rude. I dress up for you and what do you do? You rain on me and make me feel constantly insecure about flashing any and everyone on the street. And also, my feet hurt. I'm pretty sure I have heel spurs. And two years ago you gave me pink eye. So, really what I'm saying is: New York, get over yourself, I know you're there, no need to KEEP BLOWING me around, it's time for Spring already. I promise to spend money on you. I'll buy white wine and sit out in your restaurants' many outdoor cafes. I'll see movies in your parks. I'll even buy a mini-skirt. Just show me a little sunshine, a GENTLE breeze, some blossoming trees. I love you, but if this doesn't stop soon, I...well... I may just have to take a break.

Oh yeah, and you owe me $35.95.

Gregg Brought Us Flowers...

2009-04-08T18:32:00.011-07:00

Mom's in town and a few days ago, my dear friend Gregg dropped by with these gorgeous roses. A sure sign of Spring...

...except today it snowed, but only for 20 minutes.

Anyway, here's Sab's stunning feline, Kaya.

Also, I'm starting a new weekly section called "Great Bathrooms of New York". I wanted to start with some pictures of MY gorgeous bathroom, but, alas, my camera battery is exhausted so I will begin with a simple photo of Morandi's adorable bathroom setup. A long hallway is divided into separate rooms housing toilets and sinks. Love a private bathroom, right?! So, enjoy, the first great bathroom of New York.

If You Haven't, You Must...

2009-04-06T06:32:00.006-07:00

...go to Gottino. (Their website isn't working but, just in case it starts to, I'm posting it.) Meg, Jess, Sabrina, and I finally wandered in here about 6 months ago and I think I can honestly say that I've found myself there weekly since. A few highlights about Gottino: 1.They have nuts and nutcrackers at the bar so, not only is cracking them a blast...for me at least...once you finally get one open, you have a really healthy snack. 2. They have really good wine and, like... a lot of it. 3. They have a variety of really good cheeses. The robiola is my favorite. 4. They have tons of mini fruit (think:pears, apples....) stacked up in baskets all around the place which makes for great atmosphere. 5. Oh yeah, they have great atmosphere.
So, my friends, if you find yourself in the West Village craving some wine and cheese, take a walk to Greenwich Avenue and find Gottino. You won't be sorry, unless you suck.

How to spend a Tuesday Night...

2009-03-31T20:36:00.009-07:00

Begin with some cheap and awesome yoga at Yoga to the People, get nice and sweaty (so it won't matter as much what you eat and drink later) and hope your bangs dry in a reasonably passable fashion for going out. Next, walk yourself to Curry Row aka 6th Street between 1st and 2nd Avenue and get some bangin' Indian food. My roommate Kerry and I have decided, after many a' trip, that Spice Cove takes the cake in delicious and affordable food. (See: Soup, Samosas, Chicken Tikka Masala, AND dessert for $9.95!) Next, take yourself and your date, in this case, mine was my mom, out for some live music and amazing wine. Tonight we discovered Luca Bar on St. Mark's Place. Great music, great atmosphere, good wine, and yummy dessert...yeahhhh, it was definitely a two dessert kinda night, but hey, I went to Yoga! So, my friends, call your better halves and start planning for next week!

Get me a cardigan...

2009-03-30T05:56:00.002-07:00

Let's call it the 50's. TriBeCa has mounted police. Isn't that quaint?

Goodbye, Betsy...

2009-03-28T05:50:00.003-07:00

You've done me well.
Through thick and thin,
Slush and snow,
The ups,
The downs,
The woes [of Winter],
You've been there.

Your sleeves may be short,
I found longer gloves.
You're not really THAT warm,
but you're still so damn cute.
So cute.
Everyone tried to find you.
EVERYONE [Jessica Baker].
Marc Jacobs tried to make you,
he failed.

Anyway.

It's time for you to go.
Spring is pretty much here.
So, get on.
Get on.
Under my bed.
My under bed storage.
I'll miss you.

Ohhhhhh, I'm delirious after sleeping for 15 hours, that's right, FIFTEEN hours last night. Anyway, Betsy the Coat really does rock, you should check out In God We Trust, an AMAZING boutique with a few locations now. Enjoy the weather my loves!

A Bit Blue...

2009-03-21T06:59:00.008-07:00

I'm still mourning the end of the trip...

So, I thought I'd share the last bit of pictures from the Georgia Aquarium.

I'll be back soon my friends.

The Crescent Hotel....

2009-03-16T08:13:00.010-07:00

While in Eureka Springs, we stayed at The Crescent Hotel. It's haunted and really creepy. Highlights from our stay there include: Putting towels over our heads and running around the ghost tours they hold nightly in the hallways of the hotel, an amazing breakfast buffet, and stealing the cat (whose name we decided was Boxie) from the hotel lobby and bringing her to our room... two nights in a row. Here's what happened with Boxie the first night.

Having been on the road for nearly two weeks now, we decided to come back a day early and hang out with my parents in Atlanta. Today we're hitting up the Atlanta Aquarium and tomorrow we're heading the Millegeville and Athens, GA to visit Flannery O'Conner's farm and my alma mater. Then Wednesday we're back to NYC!

Eureka Springs...

2009-03-16T08:04:00.006-07:00

This freaky lady collected rocks for 50 years and then made a house from them...

Fresh Salt Water Taffy

Winding Down

2009-03-16T07:54:00.006-07:00

Evan's Dream: A field of goats guarded by Belle the Sheepdog

The Nightmarish Front Entrance to the Bass Pro Shop. Springfield, MO

I've decided to split the last few days into a few entries since they seem like 3 different trips in themselves...!

If You Haven't, You Must (Road Edition)

2009-03-13T08:44:00.009-07:00

I spent at least 5 days last Christmas trekking through the snow in Brooklyn to find one of the three stores in New York that carries Askinosie Chocolate. Time Out New York ran an article featuring a bar on the cover of it's gift ideas issue and, wouldn't you know it, Evan became obsessed with having one. SO, being the AMAZING and TALENTED friend I am, I sought it out, found the store carrying it, and then had to wait three days for them to special order a bar since apparently many other good friends in NYC had had the same idea.

Cut to: Our road trip, yes we're still traveling through Missouri and have stopped at a haunted hotel, actually in Arkansas, but that's an entry to follow. Anyway, cut to: our road trip and Evan's discovery that the Askinosie Chocolate factory is in Springfield, MO. Of course, we had to make a stop. Shawn, the owner of the tiny operation, was kind enough to give us a tour. He explained how all of the chocolate is made and where the beans come from and how simple his recipe really is.

Having searched New York for this elusive chocolate, it was pretty surreal to be surrounded by it where it's made. And the factory is BEAUTIFUL. And the company is cool. Better than fair trade business tactics, open books, profit share, and the ONLY ingredients in the chocolate are cocoa beans and organic sugar. (And a touch of goat's milk in his white chocolate.) Neat, right?

We bought three bars since everything is REALLY moderately priced, especially when compared to New York standards.

So, my dears, treat yourself to some delicious chocolate and support a great company. Visit the Askinosie website to order or seek out where you can buy it in stores.

More from the road to follow!

Rainin' in Boonville

2009-03-11T08:43:00.012-07:00

Burnin' the fields

Attempting a discreet shot of the truckers at The Bobber Cafe.

Wild Turkey for the road.

NO road trip is complete without Waffle House (this is for Nate).

We're setting the GPS to take back roads and heading to Joplin, MO today to look for The Joplin Spooklight. Hopefully we'll see it, otherwise, this may be our first night sleeping in the car. Fun, right?!

Pictures Seem Appropriate...

2009-03-09T09:09:00.034-07:00

Love a small town. Kelso, MO

Remembering a vintage sofa. Evan at Grandma Enderle's.

Great art in a great architect's house. Peter Shank's studio, St. Louis, MO.

Just fun. St. Louis, MO

Great Expectations. Another Shank house, St. Louis, MO.

Who wouldn't want this? St. Charles, MO

We thought St. Charles was okay... then we found me a bonnet and Evan a cap.

You can't call a road trip a road trip until you find a Salvation Army connected to a Circle K. St. Louis, MO

Lora Vogel. Kelso, MO Class of 1971

THE BARBIE GAME. I won. Aunt Kay's, Wentzville, MO

Aunt Kay's mincemeat pie. Wentzville, MO

Gittin' Gas. Wentzville, MO

Our road trip companion for approx. 4 1/2 minutes. Salvadore "Sal" Otto

A great day for drivin'. En route Wentzville to Boonville, MO.

So far, so good. Maybe I'll actually write something eventually, but, for now, pictures seem perfect.