Last week I flew out to Chicago for the week. I went up to Upper Silver Lake in Michigan for most of it. My grandparents have a cottage up there that I've been coming up to since I was a kid, and I hadn't had the chance to visit for two years. That was the highlight of the trip--though I am jealous the 90-100 degree weather in Seattle did go East to Michigan. Although I was limited to my carry-on suitcase, I found some great dishes and a lamp that was TWO DOLLARS. It is an antique milk glass lamp, absolutely gorgeous (though it needs a lampshade, which will cost approximately six times the cost of the lamp, of course). I had been eyeing a lamp that my grandma had like that, so I was thrilled to find my own!
One of the big highlights of the week was my cousins' graduation party. So many of my relatives were there, including ones I hadn't seen for a long time. We kind of grouped off into young and old, and it was fun to talk about more mature things with my cousins and their friends. Growing up I was a couple years (and a few degrees of sheltered) younger than my cousins Katie and Maggie, but now we connect perfectly, which is great. We can just pick up where we left off. My cousin Colleen, who is my age, brought her boyfriend of at least two years (I think three). They both have Down Syndrome, and are a joy to watch together. They were slow dancing in the pool, and just in general really enjoying each other's company. Whenever I see that kind of joy (and how Colleen is so able to brighten my mood), I think about how babies with trisomy 23 are often aborted nowadays. I have really mixed feelings about eliminating people that in my opinion benefit society and bring out the best in people--the ability of those around them to nurture and be compassionate, and the ability of those with Down Syndrome to bring joy to the world by showing us how to revel in its simplicity.
We got to the party at around 5pm, and stayed until 3am. I was shocked. I kept on expecting my Mom to say she was tired and wanted to go home, but I guess the wine and conversation kept her buzzed. When we left, Maggie had already fallen asleep. We seriously were the last people to leave, minus the people who were staying the night. My Mom and some of our relatives got into this long, hilarious, swear-filled diatribe against another one of our relatives right before we left. Kate and I were just laughing in shock. It was worth being tired and hungover the next day on my flight home...
I was so excited to be reunited with Eric. Seriously, it was so great. All week I had been going over our relationship to various relatives, to the point where I was like, is this really how I feel? But being back with him, I was like 'yep.' One of his friends was driving in from Philly so she picked me up from the Marine Air Terminal (a very weird one...) at LaGuardia and we all hung out. I was so dehydrated, and all I could stomach was these amazing New Jersey tomatoes with salt and pepper. I think I ended up eating two tomatoes worth of slices. Amazing. After his friend left Eric made whole red snapper wrapped in all these herbs. I looked on his computer later and he had done all this research about how to tell if the fish was fresh--he bought them in Chinatown for $5 each and apparently there actually was a great degree of difference in freshness. We had that and corn on the cob on the balcony and looked at the city. It was so romantic and I was so happy to be with him again! Later on that evening there was this ridiculous thunderstorm (earlier there was hail). Because it was dark we could see lighting illuminate entire clouds. It was one of the coolest things I'd seen lately. I'm glad I flew in earlier that day...
This week I've been getting back in the swing of things--I went for a run tonight, checked out some books and made plans for a solo weekend (Eric[s in Red Rocks, Colorado :( ). Eric and I booked our flight to COSTA RICA this November (we're going the week of Thanksgiving). I saw Pedro Almodovar's new film Broken Embraces (I like), Funny People (meh), and saw Tim Burton at MoMa. A pretty cool week for work, though I'm waiting to screen footage from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs before I interview the directors, and it's not happening, so I've been idle and dreading the fact that my deadline is getting tighter and tighter, and not being able to do anything about it.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
No need to cry over Wilco; Schroon Lake!
It was funny that Laura posted about being crazy emotional last week. Because yesterday I did that too. And although the level of crying was pretty exceptional, now that I think about it, I have been prone to crying spells, even after I thought I had adjusted to the bc pills. They all feel pretty justified, though, so I'm not sure if it's me or the hormones, or just specific situations I've been in lately. I tend to cry not when something sad happens or if I get hurt, but when I am frustrated or feel helpless or in sympathy to some injustice.
Anyway, one of my pet peeves is lateness. I have gotten in fights with people over being late, because I think it's rude and disrespectful and I also really worry about missing things if I am not somewhere on time, and I hate waiting awkwardly alone by myself. Waiting sucks. So I don't even feel like re-hashing the whole situation, but it involved me waiting for someone, her being significantly late, which made us in turn miss the three other people we were supposed to meet underground in the subway where there was no cell phone access. When we finally got in cell phone touch, my boyfriend started yelling at me (before I handed it off to my friend) and made me think they had in fact waited for us, and we had left without them.
And then, I was sobbing on the subway. I couldn't stop, and then I felt so embarrassed I was crying more. I had actually been trying to be more patient for people lately, and cutting them some slack before I started to get angry, and this had utterly backfired. And I had waited pointlessly, since she was in the bleacher section and I was on the floor, so it didn't even matter if we met up. I think part of the reason I cried so much was because I really needed some kind of expulsion of emotion, and the only other alternative was to yell at my friend, and I just couldn't do that.
So the actual concert (yes, that's where I was going) was fun. Eric & I ended up being by ourselves for the opening set of Yo Lo Tengo, and he really cheered me up, and then two other people showed up and my other friend and all was well. Wilco put on a good show. I like their more lyrical songs, of which they only played a few (maybe there only are a few). Feist and Grizzly Bear showed up towards the end to sing and do maracas, etc. (more indie bands that I actually like a bit more...). The show was at Coney Island, where I'd never been, so we went down to the water after the concert which was fun, and went for a second round of Nathan's, getting a fish platter and a softshell crab sandwich. When I arrived before the show I had part of a cold chili dog (the casing is very firm and you have to punch your teeth through it) and this huge super-size beer that Eric bought. I was surprised that I wasn't hungry after the show (though of course I nibbled on our food), until I saw the posted calorie counts for the beer. The one I had before the show was over 600 calories!! Most chain New York City restaurants are required to do that now, but since I don't frequently eat in chains I haven't seen the damage. Lordy. I can't believe beer is so caloric.
I had a big breakfast today but no lunch...still recovering from a long weekend of overeating.
But, before it becomes too late: Fourth of July at Schroon Lake!!
Eric and I made some last-minute plans for the Fourth last weekend, and came up with an amazing rate for a one-bedroom cottage ($240 for three nights, when normally it goes for at least double). His family friend let us borrow their car, so we took the NJ Transit out to pick it up and made the four-ish hour drive up. We got there at 1am, and almost went into the wrong cabin.
The cottage was decorated the way all cottages should: lots of wildlife references, hand-me-down style furniture and glasses, and wood paneling. It was awesome. We went to some random diner (Black Bear) in the morning, and picked up groceries and alcohol for the trip.
Friday and Saturday (the 4th) were both iffy, weather-wise. The skies would be blue, but every time a huge cumulus cloud would come over, the temperature would drop noticeably. It also rained on and off. Friday night Eric made ribs on the grill, we had some drinks, and went out in a rowboat. There was some kind of Christian Rodeo going on that we could hear from the lake, and we got quite a giggle out of that. And did a little making out, etc., on the lake, in the rowboat, which was wonderful and romantic.
Saturday and Sunday morning we ate breakfast on the deck by the water (bagels one day, eggs the other). On the Fourth of July, Eric made burgers that were the BEST EVER. They were soooo good. We had to use our neighbor's grill because ours wasn't getting hot enough, but in the process they complimented our idea to grill the onions (so necessary) and invited us out on their boat the next day. Fabulous. The night of the fourth it was FREEZING outside. No longer raining so much, but so incredibly cold. I bundled up in front of the fire Eric made for awhile as it got dark, and then he was all childlike and anxious over the fireworks so we went to this park area where we had seen some fireworks the night before. Unfortunately, we couldn't see the town's fireworks from that vantage point, but luckily some pyro teenagers and perhaps their parents had their own fireworks show. I love fireworks shows done homestyle, because people are generally more appreciative, you're RIGHT THERE, and there's always pyro people laughing and saying "dude, that was awesome."
When we got back we made s'mores. Yum. And no mommy telling me how many s'mores to have.
Sunday the weather was fabulous. Eric had been wanting me to play hooky from work on Monday, but I am against using sick days unless you are actually sick (guilt/superstition), and we were closing a big issue and I had stories due. I am actually happy we ended there on such a fabulous, sunny (and for me, sunburned note).
The man next door and his family had been coming to the lake their whole lives, so they took us on a tour and explained all about the area, pointed out places they had stayed, and all the awesome lake houses. One had a water trampoline and one of those air-filled pillow launchers, multiple jet-skis and other boat toys, and a fleet of white SUVs in their driveway. There was something about the white SUVs that really pushed everything over-the-top. Did their family coordinate or something?
I took off my cast and swam that afternoon, which was great, until we asked our neighbors if we could use the water trampoline and I accidentally did a butt jump and supported weight with my hand. It HURT so badly, and I was so upset with injuring myself more. I had to get out of the water a bit after that.
I had such an amazing time with Eric. We got along well the whole time (I think we might have had like a thirty-minute period of disagreement--oh, and did I mention we handled a flat tire (our second) successfully?). The lake was so quiet and romantic and it got me excited for my upcoming trip to Chicago and Michigan, where my grandparents have a cottage on a lake. I didn't think I really needed to get away, but I am so glad that we went. It was just so much fun!
Anyway, one of my pet peeves is lateness. I have gotten in fights with people over being late, because I think it's rude and disrespectful and I also really worry about missing things if I am not somewhere on time, and I hate waiting awkwardly alone by myself. Waiting sucks. So I don't even feel like re-hashing the whole situation, but it involved me waiting for someone, her being significantly late, which made us in turn miss the three other people we were supposed to meet underground in the subway where there was no cell phone access. When we finally got in cell phone touch, my boyfriend started yelling at me (before I handed it off to my friend) and made me think they had in fact waited for us, and we had left without them.
And then, I was sobbing on the subway. I couldn't stop, and then I felt so embarrassed I was crying more. I had actually been trying to be more patient for people lately, and cutting them some slack before I started to get angry, and this had utterly backfired. And I had waited pointlessly, since she was in the bleacher section and I was on the floor, so it didn't even matter if we met up. I think part of the reason I cried so much was because I really needed some kind of expulsion of emotion, and the only other alternative was to yell at my friend, and I just couldn't do that.
So the actual concert (yes, that's where I was going) was fun. Eric & I ended up being by ourselves for the opening set of Yo Lo Tengo, and he really cheered me up, and then two other people showed up and my other friend and all was well. Wilco put on a good show. I like their more lyrical songs, of which they only played a few (maybe there only are a few). Feist and Grizzly Bear showed up towards the end to sing and do maracas, etc. (more indie bands that I actually like a bit more...). The show was at Coney Island, where I'd never been, so we went down to the water after the concert which was fun, and went for a second round of Nathan's, getting a fish platter and a softshell crab sandwich. When I arrived before the show I had part of a cold chili dog (the casing is very firm and you have to punch your teeth through it) and this huge super-size beer that Eric bought. I was surprised that I wasn't hungry after the show (though of course I nibbled on our food), until I saw the posted calorie counts for the beer. The one I had before the show was over 600 calories!! Most chain New York City restaurants are required to do that now, but since I don't frequently eat in chains I haven't seen the damage. Lordy. I can't believe beer is so caloric.
I had a big breakfast today but no lunch...still recovering from a long weekend of overeating.
But, before it becomes too late: Fourth of July at Schroon Lake!!
Eric and I made some last-minute plans for the Fourth last weekend, and came up with an amazing rate for a one-bedroom cottage ($240 for three nights, when normally it goes for at least double). His family friend let us borrow their car, so we took the NJ Transit out to pick it up and made the four-ish hour drive up. We got there at 1am, and almost went into the wrong cabin.
The cottage was decorated the way all cottages should: lots of wildlife references, hand-me-down style furniture and glasses, and wood paneling. It was awesome. We went to some random diner (Black Bear) in the morning, and picked up groceries and alcohol for the trip.
Friday and Saturday (the 4th) were both iffy, weather-wise. The skies would be blue, but every time a huge cumulus cloud would come over, the temperature would drop noticeably. It also rained on and off. Friday night Eric made ribs on the grill, we had some drinks, and went out in a rowboat. There was some kind of Christian Rodeo going on that we could hear from the lake, and we got quite a giggle out of that. And did a little making out, etc., on the lake, in the rowboat, which was wonderful and romantic.
Saturday and Sunday morning we ate breakfast on the deck by the water (bagels one day, eggs the other). On the Fourth of July, Eric made burgers that were the BEST EVER. They were soooo good. We had to use our neighbor's grill because ours wasn't getting hot enough, but in the process they complimented our idea to grill the onions (so necessary) and invited us out on their boat the next day. Fabulous. The night of the fourth it was FREEZING outside. No longer raining so much, but so incredibly cold. I bundled up in front of the fire Eric made for awhile as it got dark, and then he was all childlike and anxious over the fireworks so we went to this park area where we had seen some fireworks the night before. Unfortunately, we couldn't see the town's fireworks from that vantage point, but luckily some pyro teenagers and perhaps their parents had their own fireworks show. I love fireworks shows done homestyle, because people are generally more appreciative, you're RIGHT THERE, and there's always pyro people laughing and saying "dude, that was awesome."
When we got back we made s'mores. Yum. And no mommy telling me how many s'mores to have.
Sunday the weather was fabulous. Eric had been wanting me to play hooky from work on Monday, but I am against using sick days unless you are actually sick (guilt/superstition), and we were closing a big issue and I had stories due. I am actually happy we ended there on such a fabulous, sunny (and for me, sunburned note).
The man next door and his family had been coming to the lake their whole lives, so they took us on a tour and explained all about the area, pointed out places they had stayed, and all the awesome lake houses. One had a water trampoline and one of those air-filled pillow launchers, multiple jet-skis and other boat toys, and a fleet of white SUVs in their driveway. There was something about the white SUVs that really pushed everything over-the-top. Did their family coordinate or something?
I took off my cast and swam that afternoon, which was great, until we asked our neighbors if we could use the water trampoline and I accidentally did a butt jump and supported weight with my hand. It HURT so badly, and I was so upset with injuring myself more. I had to get out of the water a bit after that.
I had such an amazing time with Eric. We got along well the whole time (I think we might have had like a thirty-minute period of disagreement--oh, and did I mention we handled a flat tire (our second) successfully?). The lake was so quiet and romantic and it got me excited for my upcoming trip to Chicago and Michigan, where my grandparents have a cottage on a lake. I didn't think I really needed to get away, but I am so glad that we went. It was just so much fun!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Sad face :(
I've been kind of depressed the past couple of days. Normally I relish solitude and alone time, but if I suddenly have a lot of free time after being crazy busy, I just feel lost and depressed.
Added to that: I have been in physical pain all week after a rollerblading accident, unable to do things that would have distracted me, and Eric is gone at Bonaroo for a week, making me even more lonely.
The accident: I adore Hudson River Park, and was rollerblading on my new, fast rollerblades. It was extremely crowded. There are all these sewer grates you need to swerve around, and at every pedestrian crossing there are bricks, some of which you can glide right over, and others that are basically 19th century cobblestones due to wear. I approached a crosswalk (at 34th st) going too fast, which I knew, because I saw a rollerblader on my right who had totally stopped and was going around it. In retrospect, I would have tried to do a U-ie stop even if I had to cut off bikers, etc., going in the other direction. But I didn't. I decided to brace myself and plow right through. But the next thing I knew I flew forward, banana-peel style, landing on my butt and tailbone, and had broken my fall with my right (a bit) and my left (a lot) wrist. I lay there in shock for a minute or so, dumbly nodding when people asked if I was okay, then went over to a park bench for another few minutes before the pain and a vague stress/shock related queasiness passed.
I iced and was super careful (though I forgot about my tailbone, and thus had a hard time walking the next few days--I have huge bruises on my ass, including a big purple one that's half-hidden and my boyfriend at first thought was poo (haha)). I was going to just deal, based on what my Dad told me, however, on the advice of my co-workers and gchatters, who regaled me with horror stories about permanent loss of function, I went in. I actually had an incredible health care experience (all the doctors I see make me wait forever, and my GP just gives me referrals, and I am still mad at my gyno for totally ignoring my requests for generic b.c., so now I am on a pill that costs me three times as much but works so now I don't want to switch).
I found the Beth Israel orthopedists, called the hand/wrist line, they said they could squeeze me in THAT MORNING, I waited less than fifteen minutes, had a really professional doctor. The walls were like The Palm, covered with autographs of famous hockey players, actors, and politicians. Crazy. I found out I broke a small bone in my left hand, my palm really, and I needed to wear an immobilizer for 5-6 weeks. Yesterday I went in for a CT scan (again, very professional and quick) which confirmed. In a way, my Dad was right, because if I had done nothing and used the immobilizer I also would have gotten better, but I might have ended up going in anyway when it didn't get better right away. I have trouble pressing the shift and control button with my pinky and then hitting another button to capitalize or whatever, but I've been adapting. Already the pain has gone down a lot, and I'm hoping next week I can run without killing my tailbone area. I tried to put my gym membership on hold but that has been so much phone tag, etc., so I'm frustrated about that.
And I miss Eric. We hung out Monday before he left, but we've only texted a few times, and I had to be like "call me, I want to hear about the trip," which he did almost immediately after I asked. But what I really want is someone to take care of me :( :(
Added to that: I have been in physical pain all week after a rollerblading accident, unable to do things that would have distracted me, and Eric is gone at Bonaroo for a week, making me even more lonely.
The accident: I adore Hudson River Park, and was rollerblading on my new, fast rollerblades. It was extremely crowded. There are all these sewer grates you need to swerve around, and at every pedestrian crossing there are bricks, some of which you can glide right over, and others that are basically 19th century cobblestones due to wear. I approached a crosswalk (at 34th st) going too fast, which I knew, because I saw a rollerblader on my right who had totally stopped and was going around it. In retrospect, I would have tried to do a U-ie stop even if I had to cut off bikers, etc., going in the other direction. But I didn't. I decided to brace myself and plow right through. But the next thing I knew I flew forward, banana-peel style, landing on my butt and tailbone, and had broken my fall with my right (a bit) and my left (a lot) wrist. I lay there in shock for a minute or so, dumbly nodding when people asked if I was okay, then went over to a park bench for another few minutes before the pain and a vague stress/shock related queasiness passed.
I iced and was super careful (though I forgot about my tailbone, and thus had a hard time walking the next few days--I have huge bruises on my ass, including a big purple one that's half-hidden and my boyfriend at first thought was poo (haha)). I was going to just deal, based on what my Dad told me, however, on the advice of my co-workers and gchatters, who regaled me with horror stories about permanent loss of function, I went in. I actually had an incredible health care experience (all the doctors I see make me wait forever, and my GP just gives me referrals, and I am still mad at my gyno for totally ignoring my requests for generic b.c., so now I am on a pill that costs me three times as much but works so now I don't want to switch).
I found the Beth Israel orthopedists, called the hand/wrist line, they said they could squeeze me in THAT MORNING, I waited less than fifteen minutes, had a really professional doctor. The walls were like The Palm, covered with autographs of famous hockey players, actors, and politicians. Crazy. I found out I broke a small bone in my left hand, my palm really, and I needed to wear an immobilizer for 5-6 weeks. Yesterday I went in for a CT scan (again, very professional and quick) which confirmed. In a way, my Dad was right, because if I had done nothing and used the immobilizer I also would have gotten better, but I might have ended up going in anyway when it didn't get better right away. I have trouble pressing the shift and control button with my pinky and then hitting another button to capitalize or whatever, but I've been adapting. Already the pain has gone down a lot, and I'm hoping next week I can run without killing my tailbone area. I tried to put my gym membership on hold but that has been so much phone tag, etc., so I'm frustrated about that.
And I miss Eric. We hung out Monday before he left, but we've only texted a few times, and I had to be like "call me, I want to hear about the trip," which he did almost immediately after I asked. But what I really want is someone to take care of me :( :(
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Parents, meet New York City
My parents finally visited this weekend, after living in NYC for a year and a half. Neither of them had really been to NYC before (my Mom twice, my Dad NEVER!!!!! Can you believe it? And he's actually decently well-traveled), so I think a lack of familiarity, work obligations, cost (since they had to stay in a hotel instead of with me), and my brother still living at home were factors that prevented them from visiting me. Actually, it was probably my brother, since they booked a ticket within a month of him leaving. Ha. Oh! and the boyfriend. They definitely wanted to investigate once they found out I had a boyfriend. As if I weren't reason enough!!
They stayed at The Benjamin Hotel on 50th and Lex, which turned out to be a great choice since it's right by the E and the 456 trains. I really wanted them to stay somewhere nice, and thanks to priceline it was super affordable...though they had to upgrade when I wanted to stay with them, oops, so that might have brought them back to normal.
We did so much. Thursday they flew in and we had dinner, with my boyfriend, as Sip Sak. The food was incredible - I had some kind of lamb thing over smoked eggplant puree, incredible appetizers, and turkish wine, and they got to meet Eric.
I stayed with them that night, and Friday we went to Murray's Bagels (by me) for breakfast, then I showed them my apartment. I had talked it down so much, they were like "This is SO nice!" I was hoping they would think it was worse since I am sick of how small it is, but whatever.
Then we went through Chelsea Market, got some Amy's Bread and a Wich Craft brownie, and after I wanted to show them the High Line, which is this park built on an elevated train track. Turns out it's not open yet, but we went up to the third floor of The Standard, which is very chic and modern and has these weird art elevators that make it seem like you're going to heaven or hell depending on if you're going up or down, to take a look at what it will be like.
It was a bit misty, and we walked south on the Hudson River Park, through Battery Park City, literally all the way to the World Trade Center. This is like a few miles. A long walk. My Dad took all these pictures, because whatever, he wanted to do it, then we did more Wall Street looking around, then hopped a cab to Chinatown to eat at Joe's Shanghai. On the way there, we were stuck behind Prince Harry's motorcade! (I'm foreshadowing here, because the Prince will return.)
Had some delicious soup dumplings, some coconut water from the street, then we headed back to the hotel for a bit, had a glass of wine, then grabbed some halal cart before we saw In the Heights. After the play, I was starving, not having eaten much halal, so we got some banana pudding from Magnolia Bakery (I have already researched the recipe to make myself) and some pizza. Night!
Saturday, we met Eric for brunch at Shopsin's, this famous place, now in Essex Market, for its grumpy chef and huge menu with unlikely pairings. I had some coconut pancakes with an egg burrito that had cranberry salsa on top (sooo good). I also ate some of Eric's pancakes. The slutty cakes (pumpkin, peanut butter, pistachios, cinnamon) were outrageously good, as were there cinnamon raisin apple pancakes that appeared to have been soaked in cinnamon sugar liquid until they were plump and delicious.
Eric played tour guide for awhile, showing them around. My feet were hurting and I was super hot in my tight jeans (both ways, I assure you), so we went back to Eric's apartment. I did NOT really want my parents coming up there, both because I think Eric has bachelor pad shabbiness (though an incredible, spacious apartment, balcony, and view. I am so tough), and because I have a lot of stuff around there and didn't care for the allusion to sex (we don't talk that much about that stuff, though my mother did make veiled references until I finally had to tell her I am on birth control. Lawd.). However, he sent them to the East River Park first, we had a bit of cleanup/alone time, and all was well.
Then we decided to go to Governor's Island. There's a free ferry, you can walk around, nice little views. We go. There's a huge backup, and tons of police, so my Mom asks why. Well, we're right by a heliport and President Obama is coming this evening. Wow.
Then we just make the ferry, and get off, to find out there's a polo match going on for Prince Harry's charity. We watch the Prince play some polo, then walk around the blisteringly hot island. As we're going around the back, we run into tons of VIPs (I later find out Madonna, Kate Hudson, et al were there, but I didn't see them in their hats and sunglasses). Nice.
We go to Agave in the Village for dinner, and there are all these NYPD helicopters around. The Obamas (who were dining at Blue Hill before going to Joe Turner's Come and Gone). Walk around the West Village, drowsy from margaritas, sleep.
Sunday! Go to a diner, EJ's Luncheonette, on the Upper West Side, then meander around Central Park for hours. Go on a tour. Central Park is BIG! I get a little cranky from the heat and my feet hurt. Resolve to go to the gym more often.
We go back to the hotel for some wine, then head down to Otto for dinner. I had this delicious shaved fennel pizza that I ordered, then some puttanesca and a margherita that my parents ordered. And some amazing gelato for dessert. My parents walked me back to my apartment, where I slept that night, and I did some heavy relaxing. I met them the next day for lunch, we went to Baogette for some banh mis (I think I converted them. Try them! Spicy Vietnamese sandwiches. They are amazing).
I very much enjoyed doing nothing Monday night.
They stayed at The Benjamin Hotel on 50th and Lex, which turned out to be a great choice since it's right by the E and the 456 trains. I really wanted them to stay somewhere nice, and thanks to priceline it was super affordable...though they had to upgrade when I wanted to stay with them, oops, so that might have brought them back to normal.
We did so much. Thursday they flew in and we had dinner, with my boyfriend, as Sip Sak. The food was incredible - I had some kind of lamb thing over smoked eggplant puree, incredible appetizers, and turkish wine, and they got to meet Eric.
I stayed with them that night, and Friday we went to Murray's Bagels (by me) for breakfast, then I showed them my apartment. I had talked it down so much, they were like "This is SO nice!" I was hoping they would think it was worse since I am sick of how small it is, but whatever.
Then we went through Chelsea Market, got some Amy's Bread and a Wich Craft brownie, and after I wanted to show them the High Line, which is this park built on an elevated train track. Turns out it's not open yet, but we went up to the third floor of The Standard, which is very chic and modern and has these weird art elevators that make it seem like you're going to heaven or hell depending on if you're going up or down, to take a look at what it will be like.
It was a bit misty, and we walked south on the Hudson River Park, through Battery Park City, literally all the way to the World Trade Center. This is like a few miles. A long walk. My Dad took all these pictures, because whatever, he wanted to do it, then we did more Wall Street looking around, then hopped a cab to Chinatown to eat at Joe's Shanghai. On the way there, we were stuck behind Prince Harry's motorcade! (I'm foreshadowing here, because the Prince will return.)
Had some delicious soup dumplings, some coconut water from the street, then we headed back to the hotel for a bit, had a glass of wine, then grabbed some halal cart before we saw In the Heights. After the play, I was starving, not having eaten much halal, so we got some banana pudding from Magnolia Bakery (I have already researched the recipe to make myself) and some pizza. Night!
Saturday, we met Eric for brunch at Shopsin's, this famous place, now in Essex Market, for its grumpy chef and huge menu with unlikely pairings. I had some coconut pancakes with an egg burrito that had cranberry salsa on top (sooo good). I also ate some of Eric's pancakes. The slutty cakes (pumpkin, peanut butter, pistachios, cinnamon) were outrageously good, as were there cinnamon raisin apple pancakes that appeared to have been soaked in cinnamon sugar liquid until they were plump and delicious.
Eric played tour guide for awhile, showing them around. My feet were hurting and I was super hot in my tight jeans (both ways, I assure you), so we went back to Eric's apartment. I did NOT really want my parents coming up there, both because I think Eric has bachelor pad shabbiness (though an incredible, spacious apartment, balcony, and view. I am so tough), and because I have a lot of stuff around there and didn't care for the allusion to sex (we don't talk that much about that stuff, though my mother did make veiled references until I finally had to tell her I am on birth control. Lawd.). However, he sent them to the East River Park first, we had a bit of cleanup/alone time, and all was well.
Then we decided to go to Governor's Island. There's a free ferry, you can walk around, nice little views. We go. There's a huge backup, and tons of police, so my Mom asks why. Well, we're right by a heliport and President Obama is coming this evening. Wow.
Then we just make the ferry, and get off, to find out there's a polo match going on for Prince Harry's charity. We watch the Prince play some polo, then walk around the blisteringly hot island. As we're going around the back, we run into tons of VIPs (I later find out Madonna, Kate Hudson, et al were there, but I didn't see them in their hats and sunglasses). Nice.
We go to Agave in the Village for dinner, and there are all these NYPD helicopters around. The Obamas (who were dining at Blue Hill before going to Joe Turner's Come and Gone). Walk around the West Village, drowsy from margaritas, sleep.
Sunday! Go to a diner, EJ's Luncheonette, on the Upper West Side, then meander around Central Park for hours. Go on a tour. Central Park is BIG! I get a little cranky from the heat and my feet hurt. Resolve to go to the gym more often.
We go back to the hotel for some wine, then head down to Otto for dinner. I had this delicious shaved fennel pizza that I ordered, then some puttanesca and a margherita that my parents ordered. And some amazing gelato for dessert. My parents walked me back to my apartment, where I slept that night, and I did some heavy relaxing. I met them the next day for lunch, we went to Baogette for some banh mis (I think I converted them. Try them! Spicy Vietnamese sandwiches. They are amazing).
I very much enjoyed doing nothing Monday night.
Friday, May 15, 2009
New York City, filming hot spot
There have been SO many films shoots taking place recently. I suppose that many projects have been waiting for slightly warmer weather to start shooting, but on my block alone, West 15th Street between 8th and 9th Avenue, there have been three film shoots in the past month. First, there was the "Untitled Nora Ephron Project," which was shooting in Chelsea Market. According to a crew member I asked, the film is set in LA. Fancy that.
Next, there was The Baster, which stars Jason Bateman and Jennifer Aniston. For that shoot, I actually had to wade through some paparazzi on the way back from the supermarket. Kind of exciting, I suppose. I have no idea where they’re filming, though, since it seems my block is more of a parking lot for star trailers than an actual shooting location. I saw The Baster a couple days later on my way home from work, shooting deeper in the West Village, so I’m sure at least a couple of recognizable locations will be in the works.
Earlier this week, I saw some kind of production that was like “Obsession” or some kind of lustful, packed noun. They were setting up the camera (in the rain ) when I left for work so I felt kind of bad.
Then yesterday and today I saw Twelve shooting. On Sunday night, walking home from the F train, I saw The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. They were shooting a car chase scene on 14th St, and even though it was 11pm the whole area was lit up with film lights, there were TWO cranes (i.e. very expensive). I walked home alone 15th st, and saw all the cars they must have been using (or were about to use) for shooting. There were some sick Ferraris, Mercedes, and a bunch of taxis. It was pretty cool, and a lot of people were taking camera phone pictures. Last week a car chase in Times Square went awry and injured a couple people, so I'm glad that they weren't filming anything when I was walking by.
On my walk to work over the past month, I’ve also seen police officers towing cars for an upcoming shoot of “Law & Order: Criminal Intent” (which, like The Baster, I saw a few days later parked in a different location) and “Ugly Betty.”
I can’t quite figure out why I’ve been seeing so many more productions lately. I definitely think that there are more than usual on my own block than last year, since that is something I certainly would have noticed. But I’m sure my tendency to walk instead of take the subway now that I don’t have a monthly pass, as well as my walk to work, has added to the amount of productions I see in action. Since I’m involved in film myself, I love to see all the shoots going.
New York City’s prominence in movies and television, as well as books, is part of the reason I moved here. I liken the experience of moving to NYC, and experiencing all the places I had seen in the movies, to drinking alcohol for the first time, where I was like, “so THIS is what drinking is like!” and proceeded to try to figure out how Hemingway and Fitzgerald could write drunk, which at the time, especially, seemed absolutely bonkers to me. One part I had never picked up in all the references to drinking was that it felt good. It didn’t just make you slur your words and stumble and say stupid things and ease tension, it felt good. In a specific way that you could only understand after being drunk yourself. Similarly, living in NYC is like the movies in some ways, but also so utterly different, that the only way to really understand is to go there and live there yourself.
I still get a pleasure seeing areas I know on film. I rewind my DVR or movie to pinpoint the location exactly, and press freeze to see if I can make out the cross streets. Reality shows, in particular, seem to love the Meatpacking district, which is right around the corner from me. “The City,” “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” and “Stylista” have all used locations just blocks from me. This is what I love about New York City, knowing that I am living on a “set.” Knowing that where I live has been documented and glamorized, whether it's fact or fiction, makes everything so much more awe-inspiring.
Living in New York City is, more accurately, a mix of awe and practicality. Most days I'm dashing by the beautiful buildings and cafes, but every once in awhile I look up, like a tourist, and see everything in a different light. I can walk around with a little spring in my step, and a small smirk of superiority, when I see the Sex and the City bus tour parked around the corner outside of Buddakan, or when I watch Made of Honor, and Patrick Dempsey drives up to the Starbucks on my way to work. And parks. What is he, crazy? Has the movie abandoned all claim to realism? (unfortunate answers: yes, and yes). I love living in a place that's simultaneously a fantasy and a reality, a cultural zeitgeist, and a place that everyone seems to want to make her own.
Next, there was The Baster, which stars Jason Bateman and Jennifer Aniston. For that shoot, I actually had to wade through some paparazzi on the way back from the supermarket. Kind of exciting, I suppose. I have no idea where they’re filming, though, since it seems my block is more of a parking lot for star trailers than an actual shooting location. I saw The Baster a couple days later on my way home from work, shooting deeper in the West Village, so I’m sure at least a couple of recognizable locations will be in the works.
Earlier this week, I saw some kind of production that was like “Obsession” or some kind of lustful, packed noun. They were setting up the camera (in the rain ) when I left for work so I felt kind of bad.
Then yesterday and today I saw Twelve shooting. On Sunday night, walking home from the F train, I saw The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. They were shooting a car chase scene on 14th St, and even though it was 11pm the whole area was lit up with film lights, there were TWO cranes (i.e. very expensive). I walked home alone 15th st, and saw all the cars they must have been using (or were about to use) for shooting. There were some sick Ferraris, Mercedes, and a bunch of taxis. It was pretty cool, and a lot of people were taking camera phone pictures. Last week a car chase in Times Square went awry and injured a couple people, so I'm glad that they weren't filming anything when I was walking by.
On my walk to work over the past month, I’ve also seen police officers towing cars for an upcoming shoot of “Law & Order: Criminal Intent” (which, like The Baster, I saw a few days later parked in a different location) and “Ugly Betty.”
I can’t quite figure out why I’ve been seeing so many more productions lately. I definitely think that there are more than usual on my own block than last year, since that is something I certainly would have noticed. But I’m sure my tendency to walk instead of take the subway now that I don’t have a monthly pass, as well as my walk to work, has added to the amount of productions I see in action. Since I’m involved in film myself, I love to see all the shoots going.
New York City’s prominence in movies and television, as well as books, is part of the reason I moved here. I liken the experience of moving to NYC, and experiencing all the places I had seen in the movies, to drinking alcohol for the first time, where I was like, “so THIS is what drinking is like!” and proceeded to try to figure out how Hemingway and Fitzgerald could write drunk, which at the time, especially, seemed absolutely bonkers to me. One part I had never picked up in all the references to drinking was that it felt good. It didn’t just make you slur your words and stumble and say stupid things and ease tension, it felt good. In a specific way that you could only understand after being drunk yourself. Similarly, living in NYC is like the movies in some ways, but also so utterly different, that the only way to really understand is to go there and live there yourself.
I still get a pleasure seeing areas I know on film. I rewind my DVR or movie to pinpoint the location exactly, and press freeze to see if I can make out the cross streets. Reality shows, in particular, seem to love the Meatpacking district, which is right around the corner from me. “The City,” “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” and “Stylista” have all used locations just blocks from me. This is what I love about New York City, knowing that I am living on a “set.” Knowing that where I live has been documented and glamorized, whether it's fact or fiction, makes everything so much more awe-inspiring.
Living in New York City is, more accurately, a mix of awe and practicality. Most days I'm dashing by the beautiful buildings and cafes, but every once in awhile I look up, like a tourist, and see everything in a different light. I can walk around with a little spring in my step, and a small smirk of superiority, when I see the Sex and the City bus tour parked around the corner outside of Buddakan, or when I watch Made of Honor, and Patrick Dempsey drives up to the Starbucks on my way to work. And parks. What is he, crazy? Has the movie abandoned all claim to realism? (unfortunate answers: yes, and yes). I love living in a place that's simultaneously a fantasy and a reality, a cultural zeitgeist, and a place that everyone seems to want to make her own.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Why I Love New York: Morning Walk to Work
It's finally starting to get nice out. One of the coolest things about New York City is my walk to work. The experience is much more sensory than being in an air conditioned, weatherproof box with piped music--no smells, no faces to look at, no freezing cold, icy rain, or that great balmy feeling of spring. In the morning I always see kids on their way to school (including Sarah Jessica Parker taking her kid to school sometimes, if I'm running late), people walking their dogs (the pee smells TERRIBLE in the summer). On garbage day it also smells terrible, but walking along west 9th st I see the most gorgeous things put out to the curb--if only I had room!
I've also observed the financial crisis. Suddenly, this winter, I saw "Townhouse for Sale" and "For Rent" show up on many private residences. Now, stores are closing. A children's clothing store closed, a woman's boutique shut down, a bath store looks to be in dire straits, and Flight001 keeps on advertising their sales. Balducci's (gourmet grocery store) is closing this week, and I can't think of another thing that can go in the amazing neoclassical building--how many grocery stores have columns, marble, and painted ceilings?
I'm under the impression that until maybe the 1950s, when everything suburbanized, many people would walk to work. I strongly believe that walking to and from work--instead of spending an hour behind the wheel--brought down obesity and stress rates in society. By the time I walk to work, I'm ready and alert. I don't need coffee right away. If I've been feeling stressed during the work day, that twenty minute walk home provides me with a chance to unwind. Since it's the 21st century, I often make phone calls to friends and family. I run errands. I walk. The slight uptick in my weight due to my boyfriend's rich food and birth control notwithstanding, I gradually went from tight-fitting pants to loose pants since I've started the job. Nothing major, but it's positively impacted my well-being. I feel happy and well-connected. I'm not isolated from my world, but experiencing its weather, its sounds, smells, and people. While I've heard that walking in the city is more stressful than walking in nature (and I totally believe that), I can vouch for the fact that walking in the city is WAY better than driving on a highway. My summer of Los Angeles commutes just killed me. I love my commute, and you can check it out on google maps here:
View Larger Map
I've also observed the financial crisis. Suddenly, this winter, I saw "Townhouse for Sale" and "For Rent" show up on many private residences. Now, stores are closing. A children's clothing store closed, a woman's boutique shut down, a bath store looks to be in dire straits, and Flight001 keeps on advertising their sales. Balducci's (gourmet grocery store) is closing this week, and I can't think of another thing that can go in the amazing neoclassical building--how many grocery stores have columns, marble, and painted ceilings?
I'm under the impression that until maybe the 1950s, when everything suburbanized, many people would walk to work. I strongly believe that walking to and from work--instead of spending an hour behind the wheel--brought down obesity and stress rates in society. By the time I walk to work, I'm ready and alert. I don't need coffee right away. If I've been feeling stressed during the work day, that twenty minute walk home provides me with a chance to unwind. Since it's the 21st century, I often make phone calls to friends and family. I run errands. I walk. The slight uptick in my weight due to my boyfriend's rich food and birth control notwithstanding, I gradually went from tight-fitting pants to loose pants since I've started the job. Nothing major, but it's positively impacted my well-being. I feel happy and well-connected. I'm not isolated from my world, but experiencing its weather, its sounds, smells, and people. While I've heard that walking in the city is more stressful than walking in nature (and I totally believe that), I can vouch for the fact that walking in the city is WAY better than driving on a highway. My summer of Los Angeles commutes just killed me. I love my commute, and you can check it out on google maps here:
View Larger Map
Monday, April 6, 2009
A feisty weekend
Had a nice, fabulous weekend with the bf. Despite a nagging cold that left me tired and periodically napping/apologizing for being tired and saying 'no' to everything/unattractively blowing my nose, we really packed things in!
Friday I napped, then went over to bf's house. It was late and I was feeling very low blood sugar so we just had some whole foods artichokes with aioli on french bread, and I had some prepared blood orange ham he had bought. Normally we cook together so this was a bit of a change. Later I ate the rest of his haagen dazs. I am evil.
Saturday we hung out, then went and walked over to Chinatown for some dim sum. I have always wanted to do dim sum, but was under the impression that you needed a lot of people. Untrue. We went to a pretty low-key place, ordered maybe 5-7 dishes, random dumplings and some beef noodles. Eric ordered a couple of fried things that were cold, so I totally won in the ordering department. Fried shrimp wrapped in bacon just isn't that good cold. Due to my cold, I drank pretty much the whole pot of tea. Overall, the place wasn't stellar, but I tried something new that I liked (siu mai: open shrimp and pork dumplings) and we took cute photos of each other. And after that, because we are huge gluttons around each other, we went to Doughnut Plant, which has these amazing gourmet donuts. I like cake ones, so I got a strawberry (REAL strawberry pieces included) glazed cake donut and Eric got the blackout. I was desperately consuming sugar in an attempt to stay awake.
Eric had been emailing people on craigslist to get last-minute tickets to Prarie Home Companion that evening at Town Hall in the theater district. At the last minute, he got them for $20 each (much less than the $67 each face, plus those random fees). We high-tailed it but it took almost ten minutes for us to get a cab. We ended up taking one of those fake cabs. Usually they rip you off but when I said $15 he agreed. Times must be tough. Eric gave him $20 anyway. We were 15 minutes late to the show, which started at 5:45, but got there just in time for the real radio show to start up. It was kind of funny because all the skits/songs were about life in New York (I was particularly fond of a song called 'coffee') and one of the couples skits was so like us it was funny, we kept on looking at each other laughing.
Then we went home and made some shrimp scampi and I watched a Bobby Flay on Pad Thai since I had just made it last week and was curious about the sauces they would use. And went to bed early because we WERE GOING HIKING TOMORROW.
Eric's friend picked us up a little after 8am (he's a trader and has to get up early, and apparently that extends to the weekend). It was nice tunes and smooth sailing up to Bear Mountain. His friend Joe was telling us about a grilled cheese restaurant he's in the process of opening so I put in my two cents (of course). The day was absolutely gorgeous and one of the warmest this spring, but the real reason I was sweating 10 minutes into our hike was because a) we were going up a STEEP mountain, b) I was carrying a cup of coffee, c) I was wearing Eric's fleece and fleece gloves. There were some gorgeous views of the Hudson River, and we climbed over 1,000 feet, and celebrated with these huge, New Jersey sandwiches that were truly out of this world. Fresh mozzarella, sundried tomatoes, tomatoes, lettuce, turkey. Yum. I had some of the Italian red meat sandwich Eric had and it was delicious but I am glad I didn't have to eat that whole thing. On the way down we basically had to scramble down all these rocks, just huge slabs of rock you had to count on your rubber shoes to grip you so you wouldn't fall down. I am SO glad that we didn't come up that way. I would have died. I was incredibly exhausted, and because Joe lived in New Jersey he dropped us off at the train station on the way home since it was easier for him. We took a brief ride, then got on the subway, so it took an extra hour just to go through the city. Always funny how that works--once you get to the huge, dense mass of people you can only go so fast through it. We relaxed for a few hours, then I walked over to my book club.
Evelyn, Jess, Anna, and Julia were there when we arrived. It was at this nice, new bar called the Donnybrook (on the Lower East Side), that has an English/Irish pub theme going, a little white illuminated light by the stairs that says W.C., etc.. They don't have a kitchen yet so Julia brought some banana bread, which I thought was really nice of her. Rita and Sahar showed up a bit later. Our discussion was great--we read three short stories, one by Poe, one by Kafka, and one by Woody Allen. I have been lacking for mental stimulation and all three of these were the brain exercise I needed--and discussing them was so much fun. I ended up staying almost three hours. Our talk devolved into a little bit of that Sex and the City-type discussion, and snippets included: gynecologists, and why some of them stick their fingers up your butt, why someone thinks her ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend is faking cancer to get him back with her, how our health center used to think all the young black women needed to be tested for AIDS since "sooo many young black women have AIDS," what we were talking about while drunk two weeks ago during St. Patrick's Day, and surely a few other tidbits that made us decide that this was why our book club was going to remain all women. It was absolutely hilarious, and even though people were coming and going we always felt like we had a cohesive group. I'm looking forward to many more book clubs. I brought Rita back to Eric's because she had bought me my Hoegarten but we had stopped after one round. We had some leftover shrimp scampi, chili, and some candied/crystallized ginger that Eric had made while I was gone. It was really good, nice strong grown-up candy, and I definitely want to learn how to make it.
And today? I didn't bring an umbrella to work, and my oatmeal exploded in the microwave, twice, leaving me with a very small breakfast, that I supplemented with candied ginger. Yoga tonight, DVR, and lots, lots of sleep.
Friday I napped, then went over to bf's house. It was late and I was feeling very low blood sugar so we just had some whole foods artichokes with aioli on french bread, and I had some prepared blood orange ham he had bought. Normally we cook together so this was a bit of a change. Later I ate the rest of his haagen dazs. I am evil.
Saturday we hung out, then went and walked over to Chinatown for some dim sum. I have always wanted to do dim sum, but was under the impression that you needed a lot of people. Untrue. We went to a pretty low-key place, ordered maybe 5-7 dishes, random dumplings and some beef noodles. Eric ordered a couple of fried things that were cold, so I totally won in the ordering department. Fried shrimp wrapped in bacon just isn't that good cold. Due to my cold, I drank pretty much the whole pot of tea. Overall, the place wasn't stellar, but I tried something new that I liked (siu mai: open shrimp and pork dumplings) and we took cute photos of each other. And after that, because we are huge gluttons around each other, we went to Doughnut Plant, which has these amazing gourmet donuts. I like cake ones, so I got a strawberry (REAL strawberry pieces included) glazed cake donut and Eric got the blackout. I was desperately consuming sugar in an attempt to stay awake.
Eric had been emailing people on craigslist to get last-minute tickets to Prarie Home Companion that evening at Town Hall in the theater district. At the last minute, he got them for $20 each (much less than the $67 each face, plus those random fees). We high-tailed it but it took almost ten minutes for us to get a cab. We ended up taking one of those fake cabs. Usually they rip you off but when I said $15 he agreed. Times must be tough. Eric gave him $20 anyway. We were 15 minutes late to the show, which started at 5:45, but got there just in time for the real radio show to start up. It was kind of funny because all the skits/songs were about life in New York (I was particularly fond of a song called 'coffee') and one of the couples skits was so like us it was funny, we kept on looking at each other laughing.
Then we went home and made some shrimp scampi and I watched a Bobby Flay on Pad Thai since I had just made it last week and was curious about the sauces they would use. And went to bed early because we WERE GOING HIKING TOMORROW.
Eric's friend picked us up a little after 8am (he's a trader and has to get up early, and apparently that extends to the weekend). It was nice tunes and smooth sailing up to Bear Mountain. His friend Joe was telling us about a grilled cheese restaurant he's in the process of opening so I put in my two cents (of course). The day was absolutely gorgeous and one of the warmest this spring, but the real reason I was sweating 10 minutes into our hike was because a) we were going up a STEEP mountain, b) I was carrying a cup of coffee, c) I was wearing Eric's fleece and fleece gloves. There were some gorgeous views of the Hudson River, and we climbed over 1,000 feet, and celebrated with these huge, New Jersey sandwiches that were truly out of this world. Fresh mozzarella, sundried tomatoes, tomatoes, lettuce, turkey. Yum. I had some of the Italian red meat sandwich Eric had and it was delicious but I am glad I didn't have to eat that whole thing. On the way down we basically had to scramble down all these rocks, just huge slabs of rock you had to count on your rubber shoes to grip you so you wouldn't fall down. I am SO glad that we didn't come up that way. I would have died. I was incredibly exhausted, and because Joe lived in New Jersey he dropped us off at the train station on the way home since it was easier for him. We took a brief ride, then got on the subway, so it took an extra hour just to go through the city. Always funny how that works--once you get to the huge, dense mass of people you can only go so fast through it. We relaxed for a few hours, then I walked over to my book club.
Evelyn, Jess, Anna, and Julia were there when we arrived. It was at this nice, new bar called the Donnybrook (on the Lower East Side), that has an English/Irish pub theme going, a little white illuminated light by the stairs that says W.C., etc.. They don't have a kitchen yet so Julia brought some banana bread, which I thought was really nice of her. Rita and Sahar showed up a bit later. Our discussion was great--we read three short stories, one by Poe, one by Kafka, and one by Woody Allen. I have been lacking for mental stimulation and all three of these were the brain exercise I needed--and discussing them was so much fun. I ended up staying almost three hours. Our talk devolved into a little bit of that Sex and the City-type discussion, and snippets included: gynecologists, and why some of them stick their fingers up your butt, why someone thinks her ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend is faking cancer to get him back with her, how our health center used to think all the young black women needed to be tested for AIDS since "sooo many young black women have AIDS," what we were talking about while drunk two weeks ago during St. Patrick's Day, and surely a few other tidbits that made us decide that this was why our book club was going to remain all women. It was absolutely hilarious, and even though people were coming and going we always felt like we had a cohesive group. I'm looking forward to many more book clubs. I brought Rita back to Eric's because she had bought me my Hoegarten but we had stopped after one round. We had some leftover shrimp scampi, chili, and some candied/crystallized ginger that Eric had made while I was gone. It was really good, nice strong grown-up candy, and I definitely want to learn how to make it.
And today? I didn't bring an umbrella to work, and my oatmeal exploded in the microwave, twice, leaving me with a very small breakfast, that I supplemented with candied ginger. Yoga tonight, DVR, and lots, lots of sleep.
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