Memorial Day weekend this year came at just the right time this year. The week before I'd exhausted myself at work, including a painful business trip that included a 9-hour delay at the Charlotte, NC airport. I needed some rest....but I rarely listen to my body at times like this.
Luckily J was in the mood to relax this weekend too, so as much as I wanted to run outside and take full advantage of the sunshine and less-crowded local hauts I was coarsed inside onto the couch for most of the weekend. Of course, I did enjoy a fun-filled BBQ where Jerome and I staged a less-than-valiant drink off and some good old catch up time with old friends via phone. But, most of what I did for a full 3-days was rest, relax and clean. Now that I'm gearing up for a friends wedding in Vegas next week and a my parent's visit the week after I'm happy I took a little bit of time to just.....chill.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Mother's Day
Mother's Day looks like Easter and feels like silk. It's one of the only "Hallmark Holidays" that actually make me warm and fuzzy inside....but that's more of a testament to my mom than Hallmark. My mom is one of those women that amazes those around her and never seems fazed by slight downturns in the road. I can't tell, from the stories her brothers and sisters tell, if she was always such a kind, generous, witty, even-tempered woman, or if my brother Brian and I drove her to that state.
She had to endure a lot when Brian and I were growing-up and somehow manages to only cling to the happy memories from our younger years, which she tells in her half-laugh-half-talk voice when we go home and visit her and dad for Christmas. She rarely snapped and never looked disappointed to see us at the end of an entire day of teaching high school kids (which in retrospect seems more like a superpower than a characteristic). She empowered Brian and I to do it all, which seems to have worked if two happy and quasi-sane grown kids count as success. Sometimes I wonder if she regrets telling us to follow all of our dreams down every rabbit hole, or reaching for the top until we had smiles plastered on our face. Sometimes I wonder if Brian and I were less ambitious, travel-hungry fiends we'd still live close to home and be around for the Saturday tennis matches and Sunday BBQs.
She'd never raise her kids like that, which I suppose answers my question. But I still wonder as I sit here in a coffee shop in NYC and think of her on a slightly foggy day in San Francisco with her mom and all of our cousins and aunts and uncles gathered around one table.
I miss her smile :)
She had to endure a lot when Brian and I were growing-up and somehow manages to only cling to the happy memories from our younger years, which she tells in her half-laugh-half-talk voice when we go home and visit her and dad for Christmas. She rarely snapped and never looked disappointed to see us at the end of an entire day of teaching high school kids (which in retrospect seems more like a superpower than a characteristic). She empowered Brian and I to do it all, which seems to have worked if two happy and quasi-sane grown kids count as success. Sometimes I wonder if she regrets telling us to follow all of our dreams down every rabbit hole, or reaching for the top until we had smiles plastered on our face. Sometimes I wonder if Brian and I were less ambitious, travel-hungry fiends we'd still live close to home and be around for the Saturday tennis matches and Sunday BBQs.
She'd never raise her kids like that, which I suppose answers my question. But I still wonder as I sit here in a coffee shop in NYC and think of her on a slightly foggy day in San Francisco with her mom and all of our cousins and aunts and uncles gathered around one table.
I miss her smile :)
Friday, May 9, 2008
Ambitious Andrea
I'm feeling very ambitious about my weekend on this rainy Friday afternoon. I've been really crazed at work all week and finally hit a mini lul...which feels amazing. So, with this wonderful piece-of-mind I'm going to ride on into my weekend.
I'm going to spend my Saturday papering my apartment, with an Andrea-style cleaning (pause for laughter) from kitchen to bathroom and meal including fresh salsa and fish tacos. Then Sunday, I'm going to take care of myself, with a pedicure, jog and financial plan that will hopefully help me save money throughout the remainder of the year. I may even get a chance to pull down my spring and summer clothes and do laundry if I plan right.
Oh Ambitious Andrea, do not be drawn to the green couch that resides in your living room, or the bright sun that floods the open fields in the Park. Do not spend half your day making pasta sauces and roasted veggies for next week.
YOU CAN DO IT!
I'm going to spend my Saturday papering my apartment, with an Andrea-style cleaning (pause for laughter) from kitchen to bathroom and meal including fresh salsa and fish tacos. Then Sunday, I'm going to take care of myself, with a pedicure, jog and financial plan that will hopefully help me save money throughout the remainder of the year. I may even get a chance to pull down my spring and summer clothes and do laundry if I plan right.
Oh Ambitious Andrea, do not be drawn to the green couch that resides in your living room, or the bright sun that floods the open fields in the Park. Do not spend half your day making pasta sauces and roasted veggies for next week.
YOU CAN DO IT!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
The Hangover
Why do you cause me pain? Why do you insist on making me loath the beautiful rays of the sun beating down on my skin and piercing my eyes? Why do you make me feel so lazy I can’t even move off of the green couch or away from the living room? Why do you hurt me so?
I’m think I’m going to clean the bathtub and take a bath before I decide if I can drag myself out of the house to meet friends for dinner tonight.
I’m think I’m going to clean the bathtub and take a bath before I decide if I can drag myself out of the house to meet friends for dinner tonight.
Monday, April 21, 2008
New Orleans, Ode to Alyson
I just returned from my trip to New Orleans and I'm slowly recovering and easing back into work. J and I met two friends from home (California) out there and painted the town red while dizzily sipping on hurricanes, hand grenades, Abita beer, and Jameson whiskey. Although it was tempting, we did not spend our entire time at sidewalk cafes, and outdoor bars. We toured the city by taxi, bus and my personal favorite – trolley.
Out of all the sites, sounds, and amazing views in NOLA the best thing about the city was the food. I visited what I consider to be the top restaurants in the city and came away amazed…well 5 times out of 6, which isn’t bad. I am extreemly lucky to have a Louisianan as a close friend. Her love and passion for NOLA has always blown me away but the list she created for me before I headed on vacation was priceless. She sent me to incredible jazz bars like the Spotted Cat, which featured a jazz quartet that played everything from Brazilian jazz to swing the night we visited. She detailed out the best places for Muffalettas, which we enjoyed on a sunny day in Jackson Square, and beignets, which sent us around the French market on a sugar rush after a few bites. Most importantly she recommended that we visit three amazing restaurants in the city – which truly made my trip memorable. At Restaurant August we dined on fine Creole cuisine and met chef John Besh table side, at Mothers we chopped down on Po Boys and gumbo I knew I could never re-create, and finally at Jacque Imo’s we ate fried chicken and catfish among brightly colored walls and beaded lamps.
I also couldn’t recap my trip without mentioning how wonderfully friendly the people of NOLA were. Our hotel, the Quality Suites in downtown had one of the kindest managers I’ve ever met. His thoughtfulness far surpassed anyone I’ve ever met at a hotel front desk. The waitresses (except of course at the famed Emeril’s, the only foodie spot that let me down) were all amazingly friendly and even the cab drivers were overwhelming happy and talkative. It’s an incredible place to visit.
So, since she can do a better job of telling you what an amazing city it is – here are her recommendations. My ode to Alyson:
Now, you know I could write a novel…but here are a few basic suggestions on what to do. This is based on if you have one free weekend:
Friday night – if you’ve never been, you might want to head down to Bourbon St. The locals don’t really hang out there, but if you’ve never been to New Orleans, you’ve got to experience Bourbon. If you decide to go into any bars, I would recommend two places – Pat O’Brien’s (piano bar with great hurricanes) and The Tropical Isle. The Tropical Isle is fun for a few minutes, but you have to order a hand grenade. Delicious fruity drink that tastes like a green jolly rancher and is seriously strong although you can’t taste it. There is also a decent Zydeco bar somewhere along Bourbon St. Shockingly, I can’t remember the name of it since I’m always wasted when we go there – I have to be to endure Bourbon St. to begin with. I’ll ask a couple of my friends if they know the name of it.
On the way home, stop at Café du Monde for beignets. The best thing you’ve ever eaten at 4 in the morning.
Lunch on Saturday: Mother’s on Poydras St. in the business district. Great po-boys, gumbo, jambalaya. And the name is perfect, it’s exactly how my mama cooks. And if you have some people who want breakfast items instead of lunch items they have that too. Complete with grits and good biscuits.
Saturday afternoon: I highly recommend walking around the French Quarter and the French Market during the day. It’s very fun and a completely different atmosphere than at night. You can start at Jackson Square and see the cathedral and the Cabildo (buildings on the side of the cathedral). Then walk passed Café du Monde to get to the French Market. There are local artists selling things and a few great stops along the way.
If you need a snack at that point, stop at Central Grocery for a Muffaletta (you can split a half of one between two people, but it does have meat in it, so not sure if you want that). Stop and have a beer or two at Molly’s. Great place to rest for a bit and wet your whistle. It’s all right there along Decatur St. in the French Market.
For dinner on Saturday: Jacque Imo’s in Uptown New Orleans – seriously the most amazing food. It’s got GREAT character and a very eccentric chef. There is even this weird painted pick-up truck parked out front and there is a table set up in the bed of the truck. It only seats two though. I would recommend making a reservation if you can – great place for dinner.
For Saturday night, head to Frenchman St in the Marigny district (any cab driver should be able to take you here). DO NOT WALK, I repeat, do not walk to Frenchman St. from the French Quarter. It’s not safe and easy to turn down a bad street. I love The Spotted Cat – great live Jazz music. Across the street from there, you’ll find Café Brazil – they always have live music too. And d.b.a is a great hang out bar. I like to get a seat in the windows there and watch people walk down the street - it’s awesome!
I’ve got two recommendations for breakfast on Sunday before you head out of town. The first is the Camellia Grill. It’s a greasy diner and is another local favorite. Last time I was there, I met Harry Connick, Jr. The cooks are all very lively and they sing as you eat and they’ve all got crazy New Orleans accents. Good omelets and cheeseburgers, etc. The other recommendation is a little more fancy (pricey), but it’s classic New Orleans. The Court of Two Sisters has the most amazing jazz brunch. I think it’s one flat fee for everything you want including mimosas and bloody marys. But it’s truly amazing.
Other fantastic restaurants – but if you can’t make it to these places, rest assured that you pretty much can’t go wrong…
Mesparo’s (casual place – great po-boys)
Ralphs on the Park
Palace Café (Brennan-family owned, but a little less pricey)
Muriel’s
Restaurant August
Acme Oyster House
Other bars to consider:
Preservation Hall – this is a place to hear classic Jazz music.
Rock-N-Bowl – Zydeco music and bowling…it’s an interesting spot!
Tipitina’s – great classic New Orleans bar
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Watching Dinner
I'm watching J make me dinner this evening, fresh linguini with his own twist on Bolognese sauce, from my nest on the couch. It smells amazing and makes me wish I hadn't forgotten to buy Parmesan cheese today. He makes the most amazing meals from Filipino soups and stews to Italian feasts and some nights, like tonight; I realize just how spoiled I am.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Getaway Weekend: Catskills
Deciding to take a weekend trip is easy. Deciding on what kind of trip you and your travel companion want to take is another. And then, choosing the perfect location for your trip.... well, that’s usually the hardest part. J and I were facing this issue Easter weekend, when we cam up with the perfect plan.
After moving to NYC almost 4 years ago, I realized how little of the East Coast I've climbed up, driven by, bussed past or barreled down. Some of my favorite getaways in California were to local state parks and beaches. The redwood trees in Northern California provided the perfect canopy for a car camping trip and the bonfires out at Bolinas Beach allowed for daylong retreats that felt like a full week of relaxation. So, when I checked out the map for a good Easter retreat in NYC city the first thing that caught my eye was the state parks.
I've always wanted to visit the Adirondacks, which I've driven by a number of times on my trips up north for leaf peeping and similar adventures. But, understanding that a 5-hour drive was not in the cards for me last Easter weekend, I looked a bit further down on the map and found the Catskills Park. It looked like a large enough section of green on the one-dimensional map to satisfy my outdoor craving. And it appeared to have plenty of hiking and skiing options for the adventurer at heart. So, the Catskills it was...
We headed up Friday night, and including a 1-hour detour where we cursed the Garden State Parkway up-down-and-sideways for not providing ample on-ramps we made it to the Catskills Lodge in Windham by midnight. The lodge, which I choose based on their basic, but sweet Website, the kind voice of the woman who called me to confirm my reservation and the stellar Trip Advisor traveler reviews. Although our room was fairly small, it proved just large enough for us to get dressed in the morning and fall into bed at night, which is pretty much all we used it for. The ground floor was fairly nice, with a fireplace, pull down projector screen, large dinning table and but wouldn't have made much of an impression if the brothers hadn’t been there.
Three brothers run the Catskills Lodge and welcome their guests with such kindness and generosity it really feels like home. During our stay, over Easter weekend, we dyed eyes during the Lodge’s regularly evening happy hour and finished off 3 litters of wine with our group of 12 while chatting about our day. At night, we leisurely headed over to the recommended restaurants in neighboring towns like Woodstock and Jackson and dined on fancy fare like grilled cheese and turkey dinners.
Saturday was really the highlight of the trip. J and I are always out, which usually institutes some form of wandering the streets of Harlem, LES, West Village or lately Park Slope. But, as city-mice (my mom's term) we don't get much time to triumphantly dash up a mountain or slide down a slippery bed on a mission to find a waterfall. So, Saturday we set out to hike a mountain, walk completely around a lake we couldn’t see the other side of and embrace nature. Thanks to the chilly weather we ended up sliding up a frozen path to the base of a frozen waterfall, skidding around a frozen lake and almost falling through the thin ice, and downing cold beer to cool down the frost burn that had taken over most of my face. It was such a perfect reminder of why J and I are so happy together, no matter how icy the path gets.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Field Trip: Arthur Ave., Bronx
As a lover of Italian food, and past resident of Firenze, I’ve been eager to visit NYC’s ‘Real Little Italy’ since I first heard about it. Finding Italian ingredients at most major grocery stores seems simplistic, but uncovering the freshest most flavorful ingredients is another story. The single year I lived in Italy opened my eyes to what fresh veggies, herbs, and pastas can become when selected and combined together properly. Over a year, I fell in love with cooking, particularly Italian cooking.
The historic shopping area of Arthur Ave. was about a 15-minute walk from the train station (D, Fordham Road) and did not disappoint. My friend Risa and I started off with lunch at Emilia's on Arthur Ave. just down from 187th Street. They offered affordable lunch specials and great house red wine, which we tested (it still counts as testing if you drink a ½ litter in my book.) Although everything was good from the small ricotta raviolis to the hot antipasti but Risa’s gnocchi alla ragu won top honors at our table.
After we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant we headed across the street to the closed-air market, which offers everything from Italian cigars to fresh veggies for a price. We found tomatoes that actually smelled like tomatoes and basil that you could sniff from over a foot away. We chatted it up with the butchers at Mike’s Deli and treated ourselves to some sliced imported proscuttio de Parma (for a mere $6.)
Then we set out to find all the ingredients for our evening feast. We started our food journey at Calabria Pork Store for some Italian sausage, panchetta, and salami. The meat market was full of cured, and fresh meats alongside bins of olives and fresh mozzarella. One taste of the salami assured us that our dinner was going to be a hit. Our next stop, for our linguini and clam entrée was Randazzo's, right across the street. The little neck clams were beautiful and priced at just $4 a pound. After stopping for a quick coffee break, which included a debate with the café manager over Benicio Del Toro’s sexiness we moved on to Mt. Carmel for some wine to accompany our meal. We found some of my old favorites from Italy and packed up our purses.
Once along 187th Street we found the famous pasta house Borgatti, which cuts pasta to your preference for $2 a pound. We bought over 4 pounds of fresh pasta and 100 spinach and meat ravioli’s, which taste like little pillows of heaven. Then we speed down the street to Casa Della Mozzarella on the corner of 187 and Arthur, which sells 1.5 pound balls of fresh mozzarella for around $6 per pound. We picked up some parsley at a corner store and ciabatta, provolone bread and canola at Madonia Bread Store on our way home before we hiked back up to the subway station. The walk back was quite a bit more tedious than the walk there but was still quite rewarding.
Our dinner was a success and made me want to book a monthly shopping trip to Arthur Ave. Perhaps my next trip will be in spring when I can hit up the NY Botanical Gardens as well.
All the information I found to lead me to these wonderful places along Arthur Ave. were online at Chowhound (my favorite), Arthurave.com, and of course HopStop.com.
The historic shopping area of Arthur Ave. was about a 15-minute walk from the train station (D, Fordham Road) and did not disappoint. My friend Risa and I started off with lunch at Emilia's on Arthur Ave. just down from 187th Street. They offered affordable lunch specials and great house red wine, which we tested (it still counts as testing if you drink a ½ litter in my book.) Although everything was good from the small ricotta raviolis to the hot antipasti but Risa’s gnocchi alla ragu won top honors at our table.
After we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant we headed across the street to the closed-air market, which offers everything from Italian cigars to fresh veggies for a price. We found tomatoes that actually smelled like tomatoes and basil that you could sniff from over a foot away. We chatted it up with the butchers at Mike’s Deli and treated ourselves to some sliced imported proscuttio de Parma (for a mere $6.)
Then we set out to find all the ingredients for our evening feast. We started our food journey at Calabria Pork Store for some Italian sausage, panchetta, and salami. The meat market was full of cured, and fresh meats alongside bins of olives and fresh mozzarella. One taste of the salami assured us that our dinner was going to be a hit. Our next stop, for our linguini and clam entrée was Randazzo's, right across the street. The little neck clams were beautiful and priced at just $4 a pound. After stopping for a quick coffee break, which included a debate with the café manager over Benicio Del Toro’s sexiness we moved on to Mt. Carmel for some wine to accompany our meal. We found some of my old favorites from Italy and packed up our purses.
Once along 187th Street we found the famous pasta house Borgatti, which cuts pasta to your preference for $2 a pound. We bought over 4 pounds of fresh pasta and 100 spinach and meat ravioli’s, which taste like little pillows of heaven. Then we speed down the street to Casa Della Mozzarella on the corner of 187 and Arthur, which sells 1.5 pound balls of fresh mozzarella for around $6 per pound. We picked up some parsley at a corner store and ciabatta, provolone bread and canola at Madonia Bread Store on our way home before we hiked back up to the subway station. The walk back was quite a bit more tedious than the walk there but was still quite rewarding.
Our dinner was a success and made me want to book a monthly shopping trip to Arthur Ave. Perhaps my next trip will be in spring when I can hit up the NY Botanical Gardens as well.
All the information I found to lead me to these wonderful places along Arthur Ave. were online at Chowhound (my favorite), Arthurave.com, and of course HopStop.com.
Feild Trip: Astoria
As the snow melted last weekend J and I decided to take a field trip to Queens.
Friday, after hiking around through the snow for the better part of the day (see post 'Winter...' below) I picked J up at work and headed off to dinner. Since J and I keep such different schedules, I knew J would not be up for a mellow dinner in the neighborhood or take-out at a friend’s house. So, we decided to do what we’ve been meaning to do for the past 2 years in this city….experience the Greek food in Astoria. Really, who hasn’t heard about the amazing Indian food in the East Village, the fabulous Pizza in Brooklyn, or the incredible Greek food in Astoria?
An amazing woman I had the joy of working with last year grew up in Queens and recommended her local favorite on Ditmars Ave., Aganti. I remember my friend mentioning it’s close proximity to the subway station, and didn’t second guess heading out there on a snowy night with tired legs. After a half-mile stroll from the subway station, searching for the restaurant I reconsidered my decision. But, J pushed on and we found the cozy, brick-walled eatery on the comer of 19th and Ditmars.
After a 20-minte wait, in which our pain was eased with a complimentary glass of wine we were seated among the Greek movie stars hanging from the walls. We were happily stunned when they seated us (on a busy Friday night) at a 4-top in a cozy corner of the restaurant. It’s funny to get used to being cramped but apparently I’ve grown comfortable eating off the lap of the stranger next to me.
The food was AMAZING and the prices were somewhere around what I’d expect in Philly (ok, really anywhere outside of Manhattan). Their Tzatziki holds the key to the perfect amount of dill and cumber citrus to the bitterness of Greek yogurt. The Moussaka, which I like to order as my measure of authenticity, certainly passed the test. And the Greek salad was the closest to the one I had in Athens that I’ve been working to recreate for 6 years. The sausage and mushroom phyllo pockets were fairly standard but I can’t wait to come back in the summer and try some of their seafood dishes.
The only disappointment was the service, which can ruin any dining experience. We were seated at the same time as another couple, which I later decided must have been Greek royalty. The two waiters and three busboys stopped by their table 5 times before they asked us if we’d like tap or bottled water. Sadly, half of our meal was spent trying to get a waiter’s attention without being rude (I suggested throwing forks but J protested) and took away from our amazing meal.
After our tummies were full of Greek goodies we headed out in search of a local bar to grab a drink. As we neared the subway station (N, Ditmars) J spotted a dark looking bar with a Guinness sign dangling in front of its sturdy wooden door. We entered the long bar around 10:30 and were met with a few unusual stares but thought nothing of it and took a seat at the bar. As the bar began to fill up we noticed the unique clientele was, from young women with bleach blond hair and TIGHT short dresses to older gentleman who spoke in whispered tones with heavy Greek accents. After 3 drinks we concluded that we must have stumbled into a Greek mafia bar and soaked in the experience.
Friday, after hiking around through the snow for the better part of the day (see post 'Winter...' below) I picked J up at work and headed off to dinner. Since J and I keep such different schedules, I knew J would not be up for a mellow dinner in the neighborhood or take-out at a friend’s house. So, we decided to do what we’ve been meaning to do for the past 2 years in this city….experience the Greek food in Astoria. Really, who hasn’t heard about the amazing Indian food in the East Village, the fabulous Pizza in Brooklyn, or the incredible Greek food in Astoria?
An amazing woman I had the joy of working with last year grew up in Queens and recommended her local favorite on Ditmars Ave., Aganti. I remember my friend mentioning it’s close proximity to the subway station, and didn’t second guess heading out there on a snowy night with tired legs. After a half-mile stroll from the subway station, searching for the restaurant I reconsidered my decision. But, J pushed on and we found the cozy, brick-walled eatery on the comer of 19th and Ditmars.
After a 20-minte wait, in which our pain was eased with a complimentary glass of wine we were seated among the Greek movie stars hanging from the walls. We were happily stunned when they seated us (on a busy Friday night) at a 4-top in a cozy corner of the restaurant. It’s funny to get used to being cramped but apparently I’ve grown comfortable eating off the lap of the stranger next to me.
The food was AMAZING and the prices were somewhere around what I’d expect in Philly (ok, really anywhere outside of Manhattan). Their Tzatziki holds the key to the perfect amount of dill and cumber citrus to the bitterness of Greek yogurt. The Moussaka, which I like to order as my measure of authenticity, certainly passed the test. And the Greek salad was the closest to the one I had in Athens that I’ve been working to recreate for 6 years. The sausage and mushroom phyllo pockets were fairly standard but I can’t wait to come back in the summer and try some of their seafood dishes.
The only disappointment was the service, which can ruin any dining experience. We were seated at the same time as another couple, which I later decided must have been Greek royalty. The two waiters and three busboys stopped by their table 5 times before they asked us if we’d like tap or bottled water. Sadly, half of our meal was spent trying to get a waiter’s attention without being rude (I suggested throwing forks but J protested) and took away from our amazing meal.
After our tummies were full of Greek goodies we headed out in search of a local bar to grab a drink. As we neared the subway station (N, Ditmars) J spotted a dark looking bar with a Guinness sign dangling in front of its sturdy wooden door. We entered the long bar around 10:30 and were met with a few unusual stares but thought nothing of it and took a seat at the bar. As the bar began to fill up we noticed the unique clientele was, from young women with bleach blond hair and TIGHT short dresses to older gentleman who spoke in whispered tones with heavy Greek accents. After 3 drinks we concluded that we must have stumbled into a Greek mafia bar and soaked in the experience.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
The Human Sheild
As I was crossing the busy intersection of 57th St. and Broadway today I realized how strongly I rely on ‘the human shield.’ My level of reliance depends on my surroundings and my mood, but I’ve stopped paying full attention to the cars in the street and moved my focus to the pedestrians working to cross the street with me.
When I’m faced with a red-light situation and one of my fellow pedestrians step out into the street I take a look up or down the street to see what the oncoming traffic looks like. If several people step off of the sidewalk in anticipation of crossing, I usually step out onto the street before glancing onto the street for cars, bikes or busses headed our way. Although most of this has become instinctual, based on thousands of city-street-crossings over my lifetime it’s still a bizarre realization.
I must believe that my fellow pedestrians will create a human shield to protect me from the metal fenders or handlebars barreling down the street at me. I must think that NYC strangers are only there to protect me and watch over my every move as I sail through the city unharmed (well, usually unharmed.) And unfortunately I must think that others, in packs, will not make stupid mistakes like walking out into oncoming traffic.
As I think this out loud it sounds asinine…insane…and clearly stupid. And, I’m not exactly sure where this habit came from or how to stop it. I wonder if they have some sort of insert you could put in your shoe to shock you from doing such silly things as using the human shield in busy streets during the day. I don’t know whom I’d trust to hold the remote to any such shocking mechanism but perhaps that will be my next invention.
When I’m faced with a red-light situation and one of my fellow pedestrians step out into the street I take a look up or down the street to see what the oncoming traffic looks like. If several people step off of the sidewalk in anticipation of crossing, I usually step out onto the street before glancing onto the street for cars, bikes or busses headed our way. Although most of this has become instinctual, based on thousands of city-street-crossings over my lifetime it’s still a bizarre realization.
I must believe that my fellow pedestrians will create a human shield to protect me from the metal fenders or handlebars barreling down the street at me. I must think that NYC strangers are only there to protect me and watch over my every move as I sail through the city unharmed (well, usually unharmed.) And unfortunately I must think that others, in packs, will not make stupid mistakes like walking out into oncoming traffic.
As I think this out loud it sounds asinine…insane…and clearly stupid. And, I’m not exactly sure where this habit came from or how to stop it. I wonder if they have some sort of insert you could put in your shoe to shock you from doing such silly things as using the human shield in busy streets during the day. I don’t know whom I’d trust to hold the remote to any such shocking mechanism but perhaps that will be my next invention.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Winter Finally Made it to NYC
There's nothing like freezing your ass off for 3 months straight with nothing to show for it. No heroic stories of how you brazed the blizzard of '05 or endured endless hours of 'snow watch' on TV because the newscasters keep interupting your favorite TV shows. No photos of snow angels or memories of playing silly games in the car stuck while stuck in a winter storm. Nothing...
It's an odd feeling, wishing for snow. It's like hoping your fingers will turn red when your trying to pull your metro card out and praying that you will not be able to wear any of your cute winter clothes out on a Friday night. But, I do hope and pray for snow along with thousands of other New Yorkers ever winter. When it arrives, I run around like a little kid in a candy store. I run out of the front door and into Central Park like I did today to watch kids sled down the hill and help build snowmen. Then, as the snow turns brown and is taken over by the filth of all the consumers in this city I hope and pray for it to go away and spring to arrive.
But in the meantime, I got some great shots of the snowfall today.
In our neighborhood....
And in Central Park....
It's an odd feeling, wishing for snow. It's like hoping your fingers will turn red when your trying to pull your metro card out and praying that you will not be able to wear any of your cute winter clothes out on a Friday night. But, I do hope and pray for snow along with thousands of other New Yorkers ever winter. When it arrives, I run around like a little kid in a candy store. I run out of the front door and into Central Park like I did today to watch kids sled down the hill and help build snowmen. Then, as the snow turns brown and is taken over by the filth of all the consumers in this city I hope and pray for it to go away and spring to arrive.
But in the meantime, I got some great shots of the snowfall today.
In our neighborhood....
And in Central Park....
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Am I Addicted to Happy Endings?
I’ve always loved film, and I do a decent job of keeping up with the stellar movies of the year but I’ve never generalized myself as a lover or one genre of film over another. While discussing some recent movies with my friend at happy hour yesterday I realized most of my complaints and criticisms were about the negative emotions that a specific movies brought up for me.
Like Rocket Science, which was utterly painful for me to watch based on it’s neo-realism take on high school and all the suffering kids must endure during this right of passage into adulthood (not that I consider myself an adult.) The stuttering kid who stumbled his way through his first love, anger and a year-in-the-life of a high school kid played the part beautifully but I still despised the movie. It was too real to ignore and the final scenes of the film did not provide any closure to the story for me. But, perhaps that’s the point, life just goes on and…. I’ve just become addicted to happy endings.
I’d prefer to think that I’m a storyteller who appreciates hearing (or watching) a good story. When a story doesn’t have a solid ending, it’s not a real story it’s a beginning and middle searching aimlessly for an ending. Occasionally these half stories work in film, and story stories, which leave the audience guessing and wondering about the final outcome of the characters. But, it only works when the characters are developed well enough to make the audience care. Which is a rare find in film these days.
I think I’ll just subject myself to some more films and find my niche…. which I hope is not just happy endings.
Like Rocket Science, which was utterly painful for me to watch based on it’s neo-realism take on high school and all the suffering kids must endure during this right of passage into adulthood (not that I consider myself an adult.) The stuttering kid who stumbled his way through his first love, anger and a year-in-the-life of a high school kid played the part beautifully but I still despised the movie. It was too real to ignore and the final scenes of the film did not provide any closure to the story for me. But, perhaps that’s the point, life just goes on and…. I’ve just become addicted to happy endings.
I’d prefer to think that I’m a storyteller who appreciates hearing (or watching) a good story. When a story doesn’t have a solid ending, it’s not a real story it’s a beginning and middle searching aimlessly for an ending. Occasionally these half stories work in film, and story stories, which leave the audience guessing and wondering about the final outcome of the characters. But, it only works when the characters are developed well enough to make the audience care. Which is a rare find in film these days.
I think I’ll just subject myself to some more films and find my niche…. which I hope is not just happy endings.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Field Trip: Williamsburg
Although it wasn’t an official field trip, I spent Friday night exploring and enjoying Williamsburg, Brooklyn. And, since I haven’t had the opportunity to write about one of my favorite NYC neighborhoods yet, I figured now would be the perfect time.
J, Bon, Enrico and I headed over to Williamsburg after work on Friday and took advantage of the nice weather (as in, above 30 degrees) to explore the neighborhood. We took the L-train to Bedford and headed south on Bedford Street towards our final destination, The Slackers concert at the Luna Lounge.
Every time I visit Williamsburg I never make it more than 1/2 mile from the train station before I get sidetracked and stumble into a vintage clothing shop, boutique, bar or restaurant. So, heading in the opposite direction of the Brooklyn Brewery essentially opened up a whole new Williamsburg for me. Of course, I can’t wait to spend another sunny afternoon at the Brooklyn Brewery’s Friday happy hour once the snow melts and my bones de-thaw, but I digress.
My amigos and I made it all the way to Visa Versa, a fun unique clothing shop along Bedford Street, before we veered off the beaten path and into a store. There, J found a killer Fedora/Stemson black and white checkered hat and Bon found a perfect white disk belt. Having worked up our thirst for our first Friday night cocktail, we headed down the road to a thirst quenching bar. We found the perfect spot on Grand Street at a placed called Iona (http://nymag.com/listings/bar/iona/), which kindly served us some tasty cocktails. It was the kind of place you’d love to call your neighborhood bar, with plenty of room on a Friday night to actually choose between a table or a bar stool and friendly faces to share a drink with. Although it was cozy inside, snuggled up next to a table of Brits watching soccer (yes, the real football) I’m looking forward to coming back for some outdoor ping-pong and BBQ.
Since we had some great foodie recommendations from a local Williamsburg resident at Enrico’s office we gathered ourselves and headed over to Fette Sau, for some BBQ. Unfortunately, we hadn’t read about how popular the place was and decided not to wait it out for a table (or eat outside, which was option B.) The BBQ and sides smelled and looked phenomenal and I loved the interiors of what is actually an old auto body shop. But, the few interior tables weren’t enough to hold the crowd and we had to give way to the 20 or so diners who had made it there before us. Again, another great spot for a summer day where the great outdoors can be enjoyed to the fullest. If you’d like to check it out here’s a link (http://www.freewilliamsburg.com/restaurants/archives/2005/03/fette_sau.html)
So, we headed back up to Bedford Street and around the corner to Bonita (http://bonitanyc.com/), which was crowded but seated us quickly. I’m a native Californian and don’t expect much from NYC places who boast ‘real Mexican food,’ based on several lack luster experiences I’ve had since I moved here. Luckily, Bonita proved me wrong. The Mexican-cart-style-corn ranked favorite among our table and the unique evening specials made ordering fun. Items like the breaded chicken burrito with cilantro aioli sauce and the deep-fried quesadillas with succulent pork and chili sour cream put a new twist on NYC Mexican food for me. My fish tacos with shredded cabbage and crema brought me back to the beach in Cabo San Jose (even if tacos were only a dollar in Mexico.) The only downfall of Bonita was the lack of beverage options, which was limited to beer and wine. Based on their location, next to a church they don't have a full liquor license. But, living in Harlem, I’m getting used to that.
After dinner we headed over to Luna Lounge for The Slackers show. The venue actually reminded us of somewhere in San Francisco’s Mission District; with it’s bar like atmosphere and unprotected stage. The few tables and chairs kept the skaners in the center of the floor but once Tonight and Sister, Sister came on there was no way to avoid dancing. The band, originally from Brooklyn, told stories about growing up in the neighborhood before locking into one amazing set after another. It was an awesome show to say the least.
Heading back to the L-train we found one last bar, filled with friendly locals who only served to remind us that Williamsburg is an awesome place to spend a day…or night.
J, Bon, Enrico and I headed over to Williamsburg after work on Friday and took advantage of the nice weather (as in, above 30 degrees) to explore the neighborhood. We took the L-train to Bedford and headed south on Bedford Street towards our final destination, The Slackers concert at the Luna Lounge.
Every time I visit Williamsburg I never make it more than 1/2 mile from the train station before I get sidetracked and stumble into a vintage clothing shop, boutique, bar or restaurant. So, heading in the opposite direction of the Brooklyn Brewery essentially opened up a whole new Williamsburg for me. Of course, I can’t wait to spend another sunny afternoon at the Brooklyn Brewery’s Friday happy hour once the snow melts and my bones de-thaw, but I digress.
My amigos and I made it all the way to Visa Versa, a fun unique clothing shop along Bedford Street, before we veered off the beaten path and into a store. There, J found a killer Fedora/Stemson black and white checkered hat and Bon found a perfect white disk belt. Having worked up our thirst for our first Friday night cocktail, we headed down the road to a thirst quenching bar. We found the perfect spot on Grand Street at a placed called Iona (http://nymag.com/listings/bar/iona/), which kindly served us some tasty cocktails. It was the kind of place you’d love to call your neighborhood bar, with plenty of room on a Friday night to actually choose between a table or a bar stool and friendly faces to share a drink with. Although it was cozy inside, snuggled up next to a table of Brits watching soccer (yes, the real football) I’m looking forward to coming back for some outdoor ping-pong and BBQ.
Since we had some great foodie recommendations from a local Williamsburg resident at Enrico’s office we gathered ourselves and headed over to Fette Sau, for some BBQ. Unfortunately, we hadn’t read about how popular the place was and decided not to wait it out for a table (or eat outside, which was option B.) The BBQ and sides smelled and looked phenomenal and I loved the interiors of what is actually an old auto body shop. But, the few interior tables weren’t enough to hold the crowd and we had to give way to the 20 or so diners who had made it there before us. Again, another great spot for a summer day where the great outdoors can be enjoyed to the fullest. If you’d like to check it out here’s a link (http://www.freewilliamsburg.com/restaurants/archives/2005/03/fette_sau.html)
So, we headed back up to Bedford Street and around the corner to Bonita (http://bonitanyc.com/), which was crowded but seated us quickly. I’m a native Californian and don’t expect much from NYC places who boast ‘real Mexican food,’ based on several lack luster experiences I’ve had since I moved here. Luckily, Bonita proved me wrong. The Mexican-cart-style-corn ranked favorite among our table and the unique evening specials made ordering fun. Items like the breaded chicken burrito with cilantro aioli sauce and the deep-fried quesadillas with succulent pork and chili sour cream put a new twist on NYC Mexican food for me. My fish tacos with shredded cabbage and crema brought me back to the beach in Cabo San Jose (even if tacos were only a dollar in Mexico.) The only downfall of Bonita was the lack of beverage options, which was limited to beer and wine. Based on their location, next to a church they don't have a full liquor license. But, living in Harlem, I’m getting used to that.
After dinner we headed over to Luna Lounge for The Slackers show. The venue actually reminded us of somewhere in San Francisco’s Mission District; with it’s bar like atmosphere and unprotected stage. The few tables and chairs kept the skaners in the center of the floor but once Tonight and Sister, Sister came on there was no way to avoid dancing. The band, originally from Brooklyn, told stories about growing up in the neighborhood before locking into one amazing set after another. It was an awesome show to say the least.
Heading back to the L-train we found one last bar, filled with friendly locals who only served to remind us that Williamsburg is an awesome place to spend a day…or night.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Valentine's Day….an afterthought
I’m not a Valentine’s Day fan, or naysayer but I’ve never pretended to understand this supposed ‘holiday.’ Religious holidays make perfect sense, along with holidays commemorating some of the leaders and activists who founded and shaped our country. But, a single day to commemorate love seems a bit silly to me. And, I hate to admit it but it’s female holiday. And I being a female do enjoy the few of the perks of Valentines Day.
I always email my girlfriends to let them know they are loved; this year I sent them all kisses from Abreva, which in turn gives a donation to Operation Smile. And, I do love making dinner with my boyfriend, which is our Valentine’s Day tradition. But, what I don’t understand is why this ‘love and appreciation day’ is confined to one day a year. I’d prefer if Valentine’s Day could be renamed ‘Monthly Appreciation Day,’ or even ‘Love a Friend Day,’ and be celebrated monthly, inspiring each of us to reach out to our best friends, our parents, our boy/girlfriends monthly to let them know they are loved and appreciated. With all the shit in our daily lives aimed to make us more self conscious or get us down it’s worth a monthly reminder to tell our friends and family how much they mean to us.
And now, cheesy girl has left the building...
I always email my girlfriends to let them know they are loved; this year I sent them all kisses from Abreva, which in turn gives a donation to Operation Smile. And, I do love making dinner with my boyfriend, which is our Valentine’s Day tradition. But, what I don’t understand is why this ‘love and appreciation day’ is confined to one day a year. I’d prefer if Valentine’s Day could be renamed ‘Monthly Appreciation Day,’ or even ‘Love a Friend Day,’ and be celebrated monthly, inspiring each of us to reach out to our best friends, our parents, our boy/girlfriends monthly to let them know they are loved and appreciated. With all the shit in our daily lives aimed to make us more self conscious or get us down it’s worth a monthly reminder to tell our friends and family how much they mean to us.
And now, cheesy girl has left the building...
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Unforgotten
Now, after working my way through the busy holiday season and defeating my technical difficulties on blogger.com I can finally post again. Yey!
So, where have I been and what have I been up to? Well, just because I haven’t been posting doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. So, from finishing up my volunteer work (and hopefully making a positive impact on humanity) to completing my Portugal travel journal I’m looking forward to catching everyone up. Sorry if the posts are a little out of order….
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