I planned a light day at work so I would have time to contemplate fluid ounces and party cloudy weather reports.
I am trying to decide if I should check a bag or purchase zip loc bags. I don't even know if everything I want to bring will fit in a carry-on. The accursed camera(s) ruin(s) everything. As do the six books I am bringing. But I am bringing only bathing suits and light clothes and flip flops and possibly one extra pair of sneakers, because I refuse to pack fancy clothes and fancy shoes when going on a relaxing vacation. I think it will all fit in the small suitcase. But then the zip loc issue. I have to bring sunscreen and it kills me to have to buy it again when I already have enough to last me eternity given how much New Yorkers go swimming in the summer.
We leave tomorrow at 7:15 for my first ever relaxing vacation. I will be swimming up to the pool to get drinks and won't think that I am a dweeb, because I won't be thinking about anything at all! I would be really excited about this if I had any energy, but boring days at work drain me.
I am also busily contemplating a pet peeve of mine, which is when someone says "I will call you on such-and-such-a-day at such-and-such-a-time" and then don't! Why do that to someone? I realize this is to make the person feel better about himself or herself, but it makes the other person feel terrible because they will ultimately be disappointed after looking forward to something. Someone promised something yesterday and we are all freaking out today because we still haven't heard. I really wanted to wrap this up before leaving for vacation, but I guess I'll have to remain hanging. I hate when people tease.
Teasing is definitely in my top 5 pet peeves.
Another pet peeve of mine is when there are 4 zillion available seats on the subway and someone chooses to sit right next to me.
Still another is the promise of a petite line online, only to learn that most pants are not available in petite, and even when they are, and you put them in your cart at 6:00 one night because you don't have time to order them, they are no longer available by the following morning. Where can a girl get a pair of black pants for the love of god!?
I'm not sure how I feel about skinny pants. Inherently I think that they are hideous, but I have this suspicion that they may look half decent on me because they might not actually be skinny. I wouldn't know, though, because I can't find any that fit.
One pet love is when a CD you ordered arrives way sooner than you expected, and before vacation! Yeah!
Another pet love is online quizzes. Apparently I know nothing about the factors that predict whether or not a marriage will work. I think the only question I got right was about whether it was easier for a person who grew up with divorced parents or a person who grew up with fighting/lame/mismatched/neurotic/codependent/poor role model parents to maintain healthy relationships/marriages as adults.
One pet peeve is poor communication, and another is sole responsibility for communicating. There are so many things that I don't know about him that he knows about me, such as career aspirations. How can I not know these things?
Another pet love is jokes at work. Somebody sent me an email yesterday just to mess with me, and it made my week. Of course I subsequently had a dream about him that woke me up with a start. And then, of course, I had another and another. I know what it all means.
I was thinking about Father Figure as a concept (not as a song) on the way to work this morning. Why do some people look for it and others retreat from it? If you're not used to being taken care of, you either desperately want someone to take care of and pay attention to you or you get annoyed when someone takes care of you or pays too much attention to you. I think in relationships I end up being the latter and choose men who won't even notice me because that's what I grew up with (and then ultimately get annoyed that he's too busy or not listening to what I say or not paying attention to the relationship, even though this is ultimately what I selected him for in the first place), but then I dream about someone totally different.
A pet love is doting fathers. I wonder how wives feel about that. It must be hard at the beginning, but maybe you don't even notice because you're too busy doting too.
OK. I am going to stop now because I need to walk a bit so I don't fall asleep.
I'm off to Mexico, kids, so the blog won't be back until the Monday after Thanksgiving as I am officially without internet at home. Darn you, savvy neighbors, for shutting me out! I deserve it, and I shouldn't complain, but its making me sad. So no blog, no photos, no music. Nothing. I had no idea how much of my existence had been transferred to the web. Weird.
Enjoy Thanksgiving and time with your families!
Until next time...
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
My Tuesday Night
6:00 Left work, starving, but excited about low-carb broccoli casserole!
6:10 Went to CVS and in order to use fabulous $4 off any purchase of $20 or more ended up buying more than intended.
6:30 Took train to Amish Market.
6:45 Lugged CVS bags to Amish Market in the rain.
6:46 Maneuvered around Amish Market like insane person with CVS bags.
6:55 Denied cream of celery soup!
7:00 Purchased potato/leek soup as substitute as potato/leek soup tends to be more creamy than potato-y when purchased in can or box form.
7:05 Lugged CVS bags and many Amish Market bags home in the now pouring rain.
7:13 Changed clothes.
7:15 Set stove for 325. Encountered difficulty when actual temperature of oven was 450. Screamed a few times.
7:30 Assembled broccoli casserole with finesse!
7:40 Screamed a few times more when opened potato/leek soup only to learn that brand of potato/leek soup purchased was basically a solid. Curses!
7:45 Shut off oven (now a perfect 325).
7:55 Walked to three convenience stores in torrential downpours.
8:00 Swam to Food Emporium and bought only cream of celery soup, and thought I should be allowed to steal it because dear god I didn’t want to wait in line to purchase one freaking can of soup given the night I’d been having.
8:04 Greeted by annoyed look by cashier who perhaps disapproved of single can of soup purchase.
8:10 Swam home.
8:12 Changed again.
8:13 Turned stove dial to point where temperature had previously yielded 325.
8:15 Finished casserole half-recipe only to learn that it wasn’t nearly enough food for a meal (or volume to actually fill the small casserole dish).
8:20 Remade casserole.
8:25 Waited for stupid freaking stove to be 325, because at this point it decided not to go above 250.
8:30 Put casserole in.
9:15 Checked with knife – hadn’t cooked at all! OF COURSE!
9:16 Turned up heat.
9:36 Still hadn’t cooked at all!
9:40 – 9:50 Checked again! And then again! And then still again!
STARVING TO DEATH!
10:00 Ate Lucky Charms and salad and cooked casserole for another half an hour on 425 (because yes, 325 actually seems really low and no, I will never ever ever make a broccoli casserole involving eggs ever ever again).
10:20 D ate casserole and didn’t die, so eggs were most likely cooked.
Last night I made goat cheese ravioli with a sage/butter/cream sauce with chunks of butternut squash and was reassured that at time cooking works.
6:10 Went to CVS and in order to use fabulous $4 off any purchase of $20 or more ended up buying more than intended.
6:30 Took train to Amish Market.
6:45 Lugged CVS bags to Amish Market in the rain.
6:46 Maneuvered around Amish Market like insane person with CVS bags.
6:55 Denied cream of celery soup!
7:00 Purchased potato/leek soup as substitute as potato/leek soup tends to be more creamy than potato-y when purchased in can or box form.
7:05 Lugged CVS bags and many Amish Market bags home in the now pouring rain.
7:13 Changed clothes.
7:15 Set stove for 325. Encountered difficulty when actual temperature of oven was 450. Screamed a few times.
7:30 Assembled broccoli casserole with finesse!
7:40 Screamed a few times more when opened potato/leek soup only to learn that brand of potato/leek soup purchased was basically a solid. Curses!
7:45 Shut off oven (now a perfect 325).
7:55 Walked to three convenience stores in torrential downpours.
8:00 Swam to Food Emporium and bought only cream of celery soup, and thought I should be allowed to steal it because dear god I didn’t want to wait in line to purchase one freaking can of soup given the night I’d been having.
8:04 Greeted by annoyed look by cashier who perhaps disapproved of single can of soup purchase.
8:10 Swam home.
8:12 Changed again.
8:13 Turned stove dial to point where temperature had previously yielded 325.
8:15 Finished casserole half-recipe only to learn that it wasn’t nearly enough food for a meal (or volume to actually fill the small casserole dish).
8:20 Remade casserole.
8:25 Waited for stupid freaking stove to be 325, because at this point it decided not to go above 250.
8:30 Put casserole in.
9:15 Checked with knife – hadn’t cooked at all! OF COURSE!
9:16 Turned up heat.
9:36 Still hadn’t cooked at all!
9:40 – 9:50 Checked again! And then again! And then still again!
STARVING TO DEATH!
10:00 Ate Lucky Charms and salad and cooked casserole for another half an hour on 425 (because yes, 325 actually seems really low and no, I will never ever ever make a broccoli casserole involving eggs ever ever again).
10:20 D ate casserole and didn’t die, so eggs were most likely cooked.
Last night I made goat cheese ravioli with a sage/butter/cream sauce with chunks of butternut squash and was reassured that at time cooking works.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Umbrellas
Why do all the awesome umbrellas have to be from the UK? I just found foud umbrellas that I really want but it costs more to ship them than the cost of four umbrellas. I can rationalize buying four umbrellas because I will lose them all within one year's time, and a girl needs replacement umbrellas in this town!
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started Thursday night with D's friends, one visiting from Madrid and one from Santa Barbera. Both were delightful. We ate dinner out and had drinks and walked through Times Square and went to the Mac Store where they both bought the new Shuffle and then to Max Brenner(if there is such a thing as too much chocolate, this is it) and then home where their attitudes were lovely about participating in my new art project.
I took a half day on Friday as Sister originally planned to arrive by noon. She didn't, so I had time to read and clean the bathroom.
The main theme of the weekend (aside from Sibling Awesomeness!) was piss poor service. We ate dinner at Roberto Passon, which was previously awesome but is now low on the list. Well, not so. I'll still eat there because the food is amazing - pumpkin sage ravioli, folks - but still. We waited for 20 minutes for a table, and when we sat down, weren't served for 30 minutes. Which would have been acceptable given how crowded it was, except that the table next to us, which was seated ten minutes after us, received their drinks, bread, spreads, and appetizers before anyone even gave us water. There was also the Curb Your Enthusiasm moment when the waiter was chatting with them and had his butt on my bread. The waiter never brought us an ice bucket for our white wine (again, not a big deal except that he said he'd bring one), we had to ask for spreads for the bread, and when we asked for more it never came. Sister and I are lightweights, and were asleep by 10:30 thanks to the wine.
We slept in on Saturday (Sister got 11 hours!), chatted, listened to old mix CDs and remembered how things used to be. We got dressed and had brunch at 44 SW, which is great because of homemade mini muffins but we got stranded because the absentee waitress never came to get my credit card. Brother was waiting for us at Penn Station and we were late because of the bill issue. We ended up tipping less with the cash we had so we could get out of there.
We met Brother at Penn Station and took the 3 to The Brooklyn Museum, which was unbearable because it was running local. I had a New York moment where I nearly kicked a woman who's train etiquette offended me. The Ron Mueck show was amazing. We stayed to watch the documentary. The Annie Liebovitz show was also amazing, but it was too crowded to see everything. The watercolor exhibit was nuts in a good way, which makes me sad because nobody was looking at it.
Back in the city, we decided on an early dinner because we were all starving to death. We met D and his friend from Madrid at the newly renovated Film Center Cafe. We were seated immediately and nobody came to our table for half an hour. No water, no waitress, nothing. Poor Brother nearly died of starvation! When we finally ordered, we waited for a long time before the appetizer came. And then 45 minutes between appetizer and main course. We left a small tip, and did I feel bad? No! Because no restaurant experience that starts at 5:45 pm on a Saturday night should require two hours when there are no drinks and desserts involved.
We ended up being half an hour late meeting people for drinks at Hi Fi. I was blissed out by friends meeting friends, friends from high school, friends from MA, family, friends I'd only had for two days, friends from class, friends of friends, friends from work... I caught up with a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while, and we headed to Sing Sing for the karaoke party of the century.
Amazing time had! Lionel Ritchie's All Night Long! NKOTB! Hot Hot Heat! Milli Vanilli! 80's songs galore! Drunkenness! Loudness! Shy people grabbing the mic! I kept saying "I have such an amazing life..." and realized that I don't want to move. Being settled is such a wonderful feeling.
Of course there was drama with the bill. I don't recommend trying to count $700 in cash while drunk in a karaoke bar when you're pissed off about having to pay an automatic 18.75% gratuity on a room where the freaking waiter only showed his face twice in 5 hours' time. We were freaking out. Sister was being assertive. I was appreciative but couldn't deal. NR told them that things were "unacceptable" but we had no proof that people had or had not checked out, and we had no idea how many drinks had been consumed. I won't go back there again. There are plenty of places in the city that may be more money but most likely have better attitudes.
We headed to the Automat where I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I could have stayed out for hours, but other people were tired, and I couldn't complain because it was 4 am. The Siblings and I took a cab home and everyone fell asleep instantly except me, buzzed from too many Captain and Diet's. My brain wouldn't shut off. I hate men when I drink and I was mad at all of them and therefore D for something inconsequential that was resolved within two seconds the following day.
The Siblings woke up and the three of us brunched at 44 1/2. We talked about family issues, the topic du jour these days that we all try desperately to avoid and had successfully avoided for the previous 24 hours. We're not on the same page but support each other anyway. We left an exorbitant tip because the food and service were exquisite. Brother actually shook the waiter's hand on the way out.
Sister headed to Grand Central to grab a train and Brother headed back to my apartment briefly to avoid the rain. I napped for about three minutes before D and his friend returned. I had a salad. D and I talked, as we hadn't been alone in what seemed like eternity.
AH and TE came over at around 7:30 to practice. Anxiety was high, but we have a plan despite not even being sure that we need one. We ate burritos, chatted off topic, and disbanded at the right time. I read for about 7 minutes and fell asleep by 10:30.
Tonight I shall cook a broccoli casserole and engage in the bizarre ritual of cooking a separate meal for myself while D has someone over for an entirely different dinner. They are having french toast, which is death for me without something else. I try to eat healthy when I am at home because I can control my diet in the house, which causes problems when D invites people over. I think its awkward for everyone, because once someone said "Couldn't you just cook something that your girlfriend can eat?" It was a very unhealthy weekend meal-wise, so I shall abstain from french toast. Plus, I had french toast for breakfast yesterday but rationalized it because it was smothered in fruit and stuffed with marscapone and didn't have syrup. My having the french toast is what inspired D to have it for dinner, but I think french toast, even if you could eat it all the time, is better saved for special occasions because its not the sort of thing you can eat all the time. I said "Do you think S would want the casserole instead?" "Probably," he said, but he never said I should also cook for S. I don't know. I'm not going to worry about it.
OK. I am going to stop blogging about french toast because I just wrote an entire paragraph about french toast.
Until tomorrow...
The weekend was good. Real good.
It started Thursday night with D's friends, one visiting from Madrid and one from Santa Barbera. Both were delightful. We ate dinner out and had drinks and walked through Times Square and went to the Mac Store where they both bought the new Shuffle and then to Max Brenner(if there is such a thing as too much chocolate, this is it) and then home where their attitudes were lovely about participating in my new art project.
I took a half day on Friday as Sister originally planned to arrive by noon. She didn't, so I had time to read and clean the bathroom.
The main theme of the weekend (aside from Sibling Awesomeness!) was piss poor service. We ate dinner at Roberto Passon, which was previously awesome but is now low on the list. Well, not so. I'll still eat there because the food is amazing - pumpkin sage ravioli, folks - but still. We waited for 20 minutes for a table, and when we sat down, weren't served for 30 minutes. Which would have been acceptable given how crowded it was, except that the table next to us, which was seated ten minutes after us, received their drinks, bread, spreads, and appetizers before anyone even gave us water. There was also the Curb Your Enthusiasm moment when the waiter was chatting with them and had his butt on my bread. The waiter never brought us an ice bucket for our white wine (again, not a big deal except that he said he'd bring one), we had to ask for spreads for the bread, and when we asked for more it never came. Sister and I are lightweights, and were asleep by 10:30 thanks to the wine.
We slept in on Saturday (Sister got 11 hours!), chatted, listened to old mix CDs and remembered how things used to be. We got dressed and had brunch at 44 SW, which is great because of homemade mini muffins but we got stranded because the absentee waitress never came to get my credit card. Brother was waiting for us at Penn Station and we were late because of the bill issue. We ended up tipping less with the cash we had so we could get out of there.
We met Brother at Penn Station and took the 3 to The Brooklyn Museum, which was unbearable because it was running local. I had a New York moment where I nearly kicked a woman who's train etiquette offended me. The Ron Mueck show was amazing. We stayed to watch the documentary. The Annie Liebovitz show was also amazing, but it was too crowded to see everything. The watercolor exhibit was nuts in a good way, which makes me sad because nobody was looking at it.
Back in the city, we decided on an early dinner because we were all starving to death. We met D and his friend from Madrid at the newly renovated Film Center Cafe. We were seated immediately and nobody came to our table for half an hour. No water, no waitress, nothing. Poor Brother nearly died of starvation! When we finally ordered, we waited for a long time before the appetizer came. And then 45 minutes between appetizer and main course. We left a small tip, and did I feel bad? No! Because no restaurant experience that starts at 5:45 pm on a Saturday night should require two hours when there are no drinks and desserts involved.
We ended up being half an hour late meeting people for drinks at Hi Fi. I was blissed out by friends meeting friends, friends from high school, friends from MA, family, friends I'd only had for two days, friends from class, friends of friends, friends from work... I caught up with a bunch of people I hadn't seen in a while, and we headed to Sing Sing for the karaoke party of the century.
Amazing time had! Lionel Ritchie's All Night Long! NKOTB! Hot Hot Heat! Milli Vanilli! 80's songs galore! Drunkenness! Loudness! Shy people grabbing the mic! I kept saying "I have such an amazing life..." and realized that I don't want to move. Being settled is such a wonderful feeling.
Of course there was drama with the bill. I don't recommend trying to count $700 in cash while drunk in a karaoke bar when you're pissed off about having to pay an automatic 18.75% gratuity on a room where the freaking waiter only showed his face twice in 5 hours' time. We were freaking out. Sister was being assertive. I was appreciative but couldn't deal. NR told them that things were "unacceptable" but we had no proof that people had or had not checked out, and we had no idea how many drinks had been consumed. I won't go back there again. There are plenty of places in the city that may be more money but most likely have better attitudes.
We headed to the Automat where I had a fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I could have stayed out for hours, but other people were tired, and I couldn't complain because it was 4 am. The Siblings and I took a cab home and everyone fell asleep instantly except me, buzzed from too many Captain and Diet's. My brain wouldn't shut off. I hate men when I drink and I was mad at all of them and therefore D for something inconsequential that was resolved within two seconds the following day.
The Siblings woke up and the three of us brunched at 44 1/2. We talked about family issues, the topic du jour these days that we all try desperately to avoid and had successfully avoided for the previous 24 hours. We're not on the same page but support each other anyway. We left an exorbitant tip because the food and service were exquisite. Brother actually shook the waiter's hand on the way out.
Sister headed to Grand Central to grab a train and Brother headed back to my apartment briefly to avoid the rain. I napped for about three minutes before D and his friend returned. I had a salad. D and I talked, as we hadn't been alone in what seemed like eternity.
AH and TE came over at around 7:30 to practice. Anxiety was high, but we have a plan despite not even being sure that we need one. We ate burritos, chatted off topic, and disbanded at the right time. I read for about 7 minutes and fell asleep by 10:30.
Tonight I shall cook a broccoli casserole and engage in the bizarre ritual of cooking a separate meal for myself while D has someone over for an entirely different dinner. They are having french toast, which is death for me without something else. I try to eat healthy when I am at home because I can control my diet in the house, which causes problems when D invites people over. I think its awkward for everyone, because once someone said "Couldn't you just cook something that your girlfriend can eat?" It was a very unhealthy weekend meal-wise, so I shall abstain from french toast. Plus, I had french toast for breakfast yesterday but rationalized it because it was smothered in fruit and stuffed with marscapone and didn't have syrup. My having the french toast is what inspired D to have it for dinner, but I think french toast, even if you could eat it all the time, is better saved for special occasions because its not the sort of thing you can eat all the time. I said "Do you think S would want the casserole instead?" "Probably," he said, but he never said I should also cook for S. I don't know. I'm not going to worry about it.
OK. I am going to stop blogging about french toast because I just wrote an entire paragraph about french toast.
Until tomorrow...
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