Wednesday, December 31, 2008

It's possible that my vampire obsession has gone too far...

Among other things, 2008 has brought a resurgence of my young adult fascination with vampires. Blame Twilight or True Blood or the new series Vamps (Gossip Girl meets Twilight, I am not made of stone, you know)... Whatever the reason, yesterday marked the culmination of this fad when I incurred this wound while at work:


Although it was a incident of freak glassware breakage and not the undead that caused the incisions near my jugular, I am going to take it as a sign that I should close the book (or books) on vampires with the close of the year. And move on to werewolves.

*Um, yes I am wearing the t-shirt from the 2001 Project Shakespeare production of Richard III.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Dear Baby Animals,

Please stop being so cute so I can finish my essay.


Tuesday, November 18, 2008

So it's really a good thing that no one has to hear all of my thoughts. Not merely because it would be very invasive of my privacy, but also because some part of my brain is singing November Rain for the ENTIRE month of November. It actually started around October 29 this year. And honestly I don't think anyone has the patience to withstand so many guitar solos in wheat fields and wedding cakes falling off tables in slow motion. If you had to think about that stuff as often as I do, you'd certainly go crazy. And December is only slightly better because I am not intimately acquainted with the video for Long December by Counting Crows. So it's just the lyrics on loop. All month long. Happy holidays, mind readers!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

So I am REALLY trying to write this personal statement but while writing I started listening to Ys for the first time in a little while. It's just so lovely. And though I probably listened to this song enough times while I was in Amsterdam to add up to a week of my life, I still think it's the best. Also it's really amazing to watch people play the harp. The amount of sound that one instrument can make! It's fantastic. I am particularly partial to the passage that repeats, "Why the long face?" Back to work now.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Sad Truth

So this is what The New York Times homepage looks like right now. So maybe this makes me totally un-international (or whatever) but I found it very confusing to have a picture of a peach stand next to a story about Georgia the country and not Georgia the state. Counter-intuitive if you ask me.

Also I am deeply disappointed in all of you for not sitting me down and forcing me to watch Slings and Arrows. Really what were you thinking?

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Somehow I've become so nervous about these election results that I'm acting like I'm going on a first date. So not only am I compulsively changing my clothes (I was wearing a red shirt!! Now it's blue...) but I'm also making lots of really bad jokes. Mostly asking things like, "When will we kno-bama?" or thinking that when Mary says, "Back to you, Wolf" they should hilariously have Wolf the American Gladiator on screen. You know to break the ice a little. The tension is killing me!

Monday, November 03, 2008

Thanks Stef!

Stef got me the number one best hoodie of all time. Here it is:

Not only is it in hipster-as-what, awesome red and black watch, it is also lined in this super soft and furry faux sheerling. And to top it all off there's a secret pocket!!!!!!

On an unrelated note the late night electric guitarist on the F train (you know with the hat and the amplifier?) has learned "Baby Can I Hold You." And it's definitely more appropriate in terms of tone for the quiet, late-night ride, but it's kind of awkward to be listening to this song and accidentally make eye contact with strangers. Also I forgot how affective the song is. That's all.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Still in it!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Between the Twilight saga and Tru Blood I think it is safe to say that all contemporary vampire themed cultural output is terrible. Alas for the good old days:

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Ruminations on the Bolt Bus

As I type these words a young man is nodding in and out of sleep over his MacBook Pro to my left as vistas of scenic Yonkers speed by on my right. Yes, through the wonders of modern technology I am connected to the Internet and traveling to Boston at the same time. I really have no concept of the mechanism that makes this possible. Am I getting service via a cell phone signal? Is there some giant satellite dish on top of the bus (I checked as I was getting on but it could be in the middle, out of view. Buses are tall)? Regardless, this magical manifestation of modernity allows me to bore you with these observations:

The Bolt Bus stops at the corner of eighth avenue on thirty-fourth street. There's a plaque commissioned by the Ukrainian American Society on the building there which recognizes the location as the site of Nikola Tesla's death. I briefly wondered at the possibility of deliberate symbolism in deciding to have a giant red bus with a lightning bolt on the side stopping in front of Tesla's death place.

Hell's Kitchen seems like a sort of adorable neighborhood. After four years in New York I'd never seen it before today.

Initially none of the power outlets were working on the bus. This created a sort of mini-hysteria. The tensions ran so high that the bus driver pulled over at ninth avenue and fifty-first street to fix the problem. We had been moving for seven minutes and the repair took at least ten.

According to their website, Bolt Bus stops at 34th and 8th when going to Boston and Philly and 36th and 7th when going to DC. Wouldn't it make more sense to have the Philly and DC buses stopping in the same place on the West side with easy access to the Lincoln tunnel and have the Boston bus stop somewhere further east with easy access to the Tri-Borough bridge or at least FDR drive? It took us forty-five minutes to get out of Manhattan today.

I saw a giant beautiful rainbow ahead to the east as we turned on to 287. A prodigious sign, to be sure.

The dude in front of me is totally watching Reality Bites.

At five-thirty we passed the last exit in Norwalk, CT. This was two and a half hours into our supposedly four hour and fifteen minute trip. I might reach the end of the internet.

I uesd to not be able to sleep on any moving vehicle, but somehow in the last year or so the opposite has become true and I have started nodding off without even meaning to. I am worried that this is the first sign of an early-onset dementia. Also, since I unwittingly napped today, what if I'm not tired enough tonight to go to sleep early to wake up early tomorrow to go to sleep early tomorrow to wake up early on Saturday for the LSAT????? Seriously. I am not very good at sleeping.

In addition to mid-90's melodrama, the dude in front of me is assiduously tracking our progress forward on Google maps. He should clearly be traveling by plane.

This has essentially devolved into a Twitter. I'm going to go watch funny stuff on Hulu.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

7:30 is an inhuman hour at which to wake. Damn test.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Fall Outerwear

So I'm really trying to be good about studying and prep for the LSAT (7 days!), but tonight I am going to a birthday party and it's rainy and I have to wear a jacket. Choosing a jacket is of course an epic decision and because Richard has already left for the evening it falls to you, dear internet, to be my second eyes.

Mostly my fall weight outerwear has been acquired through various forms of "free." In fact the only thing I bought I have had since I was 20 (at a adorable thrift store in Hungary). So there's something a little bit weird about all the options (ordering from least to most weird):

This is the one I bought. It's cute but the arms fit kind of funny, right? Also the zipper doesn't completely work anymore.

So Kendra gave me this vest when we were living together. Prior to my wearing it, we had tacked it to the wall for decoration. It's also pretty short. In like a 1993, cropped-tops-are-hot kind of way.

This jacket also has some early 90's appeal. I got it at a clothing swap (thanks Ella!). It seems like a normal-ish choice, but then you realize that the collar and cuffs are lined with faux fur instead of wooly sheerling. It's challenging.

I honestly love wearing this coat. But it's actually a little bit longer than your standard trench. And the bottom is more of a full skirt than an a-line. It can look sort of intensely dramatic. Yeah, it used to be my mom's.

Can I ever wear this in public? Is any outfit plain enough to balance the oversized shoulder pads and the mid-80's pleating details? This one comes courtesy of my aunt Sukins and was the inspiration for my first request for a leather jacket.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Helpful Hints: How Italian Men Can Improve Their Game

So I went to a wine tasting today. Generally they're sort of crowded affairs in conference rooms or ballrooms of hotels. Tables ring the room and there's a bunch of cheese and bread and bottled water in the middle. I sort of dress up for these things. I guess the rule is to look professional, but my motivation is generally to look older and more serious. It's hard enough to get men to take me seriously about wine without looking like the kind of girl they try to pick up in bars. Today that involved the shoes pictured to the right (with slacks because the skirt was just too shiny). Nonetheless I managed to be the youngest woman in the room. A charming, older (let's say late 70's) gentleman took a particular shine to me and followed me around to a few tables. Although he had many complimentary things to say, my personal favorite was when he called me a "mountain of glory." It's important to picture this man, standing about 5'4'', fumbling through his Sicilian accent, doing his best to channel Martin Scorsese in his tie-less black suit. I would like to take this opportunity to tell all you Italian men reading this blog that words like "great" (as in "great tower of beauty") and "mountain" might best be left out of your courtship routine.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Tonight I was on the R train (taking the longest route home possible) and when passing through the Courtlandt Street subway station and I started to think about the newspapers on the platform and whether they were from seven years ago. And then I started to think about how that was seven years ago. And then I realized today is the four year anniversary of my move to New York City.

Right after that I thought about the perfect poem to describe that feeling of how the general history reminded me of my particular history and how it was all sort of uncertain and nostalgic. But I just spent about twenty minutes looking through Google for this poem and I don't think it exists after all. Which makes me wish I had a photographic memory so I would always be able to quote exactly what poem I was thinking of. Or maybe I should just write my own poems. Or go to bed.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

What Not To Do: Late Night Messaging

As many of you dear readers have experienced, I have a penchant for late night, less-than-sober, text-based communications. It's something I am certainly not proud of, but it's who I am and I don't know what I can do about it short of developing breathalizer software for my phone and computer (hear me Steve Jobs?). Normally message recipients are good friends and occasionally *cringe* former lovers. Last night, however, I managed to send the following message to a Facebook friend who I went to KINDERGARTEN with (and haven't seen since I was fifteen, probably):

I noticed that you're currently employed by Legal Seafood. My sister has been gainfully employed at the Park Square location of that same chain for the last three years... I was thinking you might be unwittingly working side by side for the last several weeks without even knowing your connection! But, basically, if you're working with a girl named Molly who looks uncannily like me, you should say hi, cause she's my sister.....

My concern is not really that I said something stupid. The content isn't particularly damning. I just think about how it must look to recieve such a random and syntactically quirky message with a 3:47am date stamp. Not good. Not good.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Hardly a Post

So I'm a jerk and I never update. Noted. Mea culpa. But here's what's news lately:

1) My new sunglasses are so fly:

Sometimes I'm wearing them and it's like, "Damn, New York. Can you stop sweating me for a little? Cause I have to walk here."

2) You should all try the 2007 Muga Rose. It's not super cheap but it's well under $20 and it's easily the best rose I've had in over a year. So delicious.

3) It seems likely that I'm looking for a new job. I want to keep working with wine and I feel pretty open to what's available. Hit me up if you know something.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

I just had to tell myself, "Rose, it's 3:15 am and you are going to publish a blog post about dating? Get your mind right and go to bed."

Wednesday, July 09, 2008


So there's this girl who has been sitting on my stoop all day. I am pretty sure she lives in the building cause I've seen her before. And I don't know for certain that she's been there all day, but let's say it's been an hour or two. I would guess she's fifteen. All she's doing is scrolling through her cell phone and flipping it open and closed. I mean, I haven't been watching her continuously, but as far as I can tell. It's important to note that I don't have one of those grand, Brooklyn, Do The Right Thing kind of stoops. The stoop is an inch and a half higher than the sidewalk. The point is, she's almost certainly just sitting out there cause she has nothing else too do and doesn't want to sit her apartment because of family or heat or whatever, but mostly boredom. At least things might change a little on the street. You know cars drive by. Occasionally there are bicycles. The point is, do you remember how boring it was to be a teenager?

Thinking back, I have no idea what I did to pass the time when I was fifteen. Except Shakespeare summer camp, of course. Leila and I took the T to places like the Cambridgeside Galleria because were so used to the Copley and Prudential malls that they were boring. Malls are categorically boring of course, so it seems like we must have been bored once we got there too. And I guess I listened to the radio alot then as well. Which means that I must have spent alot of time at home near the radio. Jeez. So much time just passed in my life without anything happening.

So far this summer has been incredibly boring. No offense to anyone I have had a great time with in the last month. The days are just full of pointless scrolling through internet pages and long walks and magazines. I feel like I am waiting for my life to happen which is how I remember feeling when I was a teenager. And it's really dumb because I'm obviously old enough to know that you have to make things happen and that sitting around drinking coffee like a dullard is not how to do it. Which is unfortunate because lately that's all I've wanted to do.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008


Recently one of my coworkers told me that pure watermelon juice has an almost immediate laxative effect if consumed in large enough quantities. I haven't remembered to test this claim with research or experimentation, but it would be a sort of weird thing to fabricate, so I believe it. Then today I read this about the arousing effects of watermelons. Which leaves all of us (or so I imagine) wondering about the intersection of these two unexpected properties of this refreshing summer fruit. Which is sort of a gross image and generally involves too many seeds.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Failure of the Algorithm?

According to IMDB, if I like How She Move I might also like Porky's and The Notebook.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Like Wearing a Hat of Someone Else's Haircut Over The Haircut I Asked For

Dearest Readers,
Do not get student haircuts. My "long layers" vary between three inches and a foot and a half. I think I might have to pay real money to get this monstrosity fixed. On a side note, if you get an obvious haircut, will anyone who notices tell you it's awful?

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Announcement: Growing Up

I'm alone in the apartment for the week. Which is mostly sad and lonely. Especially because without Richard I always forget how to watch TV and just spend hours on end watching TLC. And really how many makeovers can you watch before they loose that magic?

But about five minutes ago I had this sort of epiphany. I was putting my dinner leftovers in the fridge and all of a sudden I was overwhelmed by how grown up I am. Like the beginning of a Meg Ryan film, I was sitting on the couch sipping wine thinking about my life. I refrigerate leftovers and do my dishes after I finish eating. I am fastidious about my fiber intake. I carry band-aids in my wallet. I even remembered to buy dental floss today cause I'd run out.

And I'm turning twenty-five. In five weeks. I've been obsessing about it for the last couple months and I'm finally comfortable with being a quarter-century old. I know it's silly to get hung up on a number, but everyone has to face the stigmas attached to growing up at some point. And I'm ready to grow up a little.

So here's the announcement: I'm gonna be a lawyer. I took my first practice LSAT today. Helen is kindly lending me her prep books. Logic game practice isn't going to be the funnest summer activity I've ever undertaken, but there's a sort of thrilling challenge to them from a certain perspective.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Top Seven Songs

So I've been tagged. In my opinion this is one (very small) step up from sending along chain letters or involving friends in pyramid schemes (though I only know about those in so far as they played a role an unusually boring episode of Mad About You), but I am going to respond. I am not, however, going to tag afterward. Mostly because I don't really know anyone who writes a blog who would actually respond to a tag. Except maybe Tommy. So go ahead if you like, Tommy.

I am supposed to list my top seven (why seven?) songs at the moment with explanations for each. If I were to be completely honest this list would consist entirely of songs by Mary J. Blige, but since the explanations would all be "She's so awesome," I thought it would be too boring even for this blog. So here it is. Seven songs I like a lot right now. Keep in mind that I exist in a strange musical bubble.

1. "No More Drama"- Mary J. Blige
I picked this as the representative song of my Mary J. obsession in part because it awesomely uses the theme song to The Young and the Restless (which Mary J. awesomely name checks in the lyrics). But most importantly, I think it's a lesson we can all stand to learn, no matter how many times we've heard it since 2001, "No more drama in my life." Yes.

2. "Happiness is a Warm Gun"- The Beatles
According to my iTunes (which knows nothing of what I listen to away from my computer) this is my most played song. Which makes sense because I sort of rediscovered it a month or two ago and ever since then, it will just pop into my head and I'll need to hear it. Mostly I get stuck in the beginning, "She's not a girl who misses much..." It has a great build and a great chorus as a pay off.

3. "Everybody Knows This is Nowhere"- Neil Young
So for about three weeks in April I listened to this album constantly. It started out when I heard a live version of "Cowgirl in the Sand" during a yoga class and the line "It's the woman in you that makes you want to play this game..." repeated in my head so many times that I went out and bought a used copy of the CD (because my dad's copy was in Boston, which is too far away to steal. Or borrow). So the title track is my favorite right now because it has those light hearted "nah-nah-nah, nah-nah, nah-nah"s on the chorus and I think that's appropriate for the season.

4. "Are You That Somebody?"- Aaliyah
Full disclosure? I downloaded this playlist of the "Top 100 R&B Songs of the 1990's." Treasures untold.

5. "Warrior"- the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs
So when I'm at the gym and I'm feeling more aggressive or angry or something, I listen to the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs instead of Mary J. Blige. It's not often, but it happens.

6."A Case of You"- Joni Mitchell
... is probably my favorite song of all time.

7. "Try a Little Tenderness"- Otis Redding
This song will forever be attached to that scene in Pretty in Pink when Ducky spazzes out in the record shop and does those crazy pelvic thrusts. But I've been listening to lots of Otis all spring. He's wonderful.

So yeah. Nothing on this list is particularly current or interesting, but that's just the kind of music I listen to. No apologies.

Book Discussion Group: On imagery and nostalgia

On my way home from work tonight I had this strong bout of nostalgia for a college I never attended. It was a longer wait for the F train than usual and I was reading to pass the time. I started Americana by Don DeLillo earlier this week, mostly because it seems like everyone is always talking about how great he is, and even though I don't feel like I'm really into it (like I won't read another chapter instead of going to sleep at night), I like it. Anyhow, between the wait and the train ride I was probably reading for almost an hour. And I was thinking about this conversation I had with my friend Jean last night about descriptions of place and how important they are to stories and, at least so far, Americana takes place in New York City, so the descriptions are vivid in this way that they are not only so obviously and brilliantly concocted out of images from the mid-twentieth century cultural zeitgeist, but they are also images and places I live among everyday (or at least to the extent that I am in Manhattan, which is often enough).

So my nostalgia had to do with this fantasy I have about what life in "normal college" dorm is like. In this nostalgic reverie I pictured myself returning to the dorms at one-thirty in the morning and going down to the second floor (because my nostalgia is specific enough to place me on the fourth) to knock on the door of some dreamy English major I knew would be up (probably reading Proust or something awful like that). Anyhow, we would sit on his bed at a perpendicular angle to one another, with my back against the wall at the head of the bed and his against the wall against the length of the bed, and eventually, after dissecting imagery and the power of the ego in literature or whatever words we were using to mean "It's really fucking good the way he says that," I would tuck my feet under his thighs and we would feel really close but probably not even kiss because those situations always feel too heavy and cliche anyhow.

This fantasy is fraught for several reasons, starting with my cynical disdain for English majors and Proust. But also because it reveals the ways that my college experience was purposefully a-typical in a way that highlights how my late teens were to a large degree shaped by a desire to be "a-typical" and how it's strange but I sometimes regret that. But really only because lately my life is full of times like now when it's after three in the morning and I can't think of a single person who it would be appropriate to call in order to discuss literature. Maybe I'm just too old for that.

But when I came home I was glad to find Richard awake and we drank beers and watched the season finale of Greek, which is really a fantastically sincere show, but maybe feeds my college nostalgia-regret fantasies a little too much.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

One summer I did this writer's workshop at UMASS Boston. I was turning fifteen and my parents didn't really know how to handle the too old for camp, too young to let loose balance. I didn't produce anything so fantastic (except perhaps that poem about bathrobes that I might be able to recite to this day), but I wrote this one essay that was published in the magazine at the end of the course about writer's block, pasta salad and my toes. This post is basically a rehash of that story, ten years later (oh god, I am so old. Pour me a metamucil). Also an excuse to mention my fantastic sneakers.

Sometimes it seems like social interactions are comprised of exposition ("I have done x, y and z things since we spoke last"), debate ("Obsessive attention to capitalization is NOT a valid reason for disliking e.e. cummings as a poet") and advice. I think I might be really into advice. Both giving and receiving. I don't know that I'm good at it, but there's something rewarding about the exercise of figuring things out through conversation. Lately whenever I am giving advice, even to myself when sitting on the couch wearing one shoe, the word perspective comes to mind. I feel like I use it so often that it is becoming meaningless. But when I look at things objectively it becomes clear that the only reason I feel a certain way so strongly is because of the circumstances around me. Give it a try. Is there really any problem you have, like something that's bugging you or unsatisfying, that couldn't be changed with a shift in perspective?

When I was talking to my mom the other day I came to realize that it's probably impossible for a single person not think about her love life. Even if you aren't really wanting to date or meet people, if you aren't with someone part of you is probably looking. It's a strange cycle and it makes things sort of annoying. I don't want a boyfriend but being single is kind of a chore. I wonder if people who have taken religious vows of celibacy are really completely free of this. Or if it's more an exercise in pushing away thoughts of sex and romance. I actually can't remotely comprehend the cloistered lifestyle. It's awful but my life is completely selfish in ways. And selflessness on that scale is... something other than what experience as life.

To be frank (because who really reads this anyway?) I feel a little bit funny about what I write on this blog and how personal I get and what the real purpose is. That last paragraph is probably the most I've ever written about my love life. Sometimes I have ideas for posts that would betray a specific event or feeling I'm having and I get nervous because I think that someone else will feel betrayed or that my exboyfriend will read it or blah, blah, blah. But I was thinking about the last few months and from my usual perspective (visualized as a stick figure on a director's chair in my brain) I haven't been doing much. But when I looked back at an old email I wrote in March (and never sent) I realized that there are a lot of things that are pretty different now. I was fatalistically perceiving time since I broke up with Josh as a flat line of events (work, walks and whiskey). But actually I'm in a totally different place now. And if reading something I wrote could make me realize that, could alter my perspective if you will, then it really is important to keep writing regularly and hope that the self-involvedness will dissolve eventually. Phew.


Friday, May 30, 2008

On Love

Tonight I was in a public bathroom reading the graffiti on the stall door (as is my wont) when I realized that the common symbol for love (a heart or <3), when paired with an "s" to make it grammatically correct, looks a lot like the common abbreviation for versus (that is vs). Although an amorous woman may have written Deidre "loves" Shaun (intending <3), it's easy to imagine how their time at the Irish pub might have ended in more of a Deidre "versus" Shaun kind of way. Which is just another way that our symbolic language is working much harder than we think.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Sunshine and an Announcement

Perhaps the best way to approach is as a silly diversionary activity. For example the hour-by-hour forecast is currently showing little thunder clouds every hour until five but my window looks like this:

The glare of sunshine obscures the fact that there isn't a single cloud in the sky. So I am going to open more windows and pull back the curtains and drink coffee and listen to Rubber Soul for a little longer then get dressed and walk to work. Screw you,

But I have exciting news for you all (if anyone even reads this anymore). I am going away. Not permanently or tomorrow, but definitely going, going, gone. So for the months of September and October this blog may return to its original mission statement. I'll be subletting my room in Park Slope (anyone who's interested should enjoy television, wine and Samuel Beckett) and heading below the equator for the first time in my life! Right now I am thinking about buying a one way ticket and making my way back north with many stops along the way. So are you in South or Central America? Will you be in the early fall? Do you think there's somewhere I absolutely must see? Let me know!

Finally, I promise that I'll think about trying to be better at this blog. I am honestly in a very strange place in my life right now and sometimes it's impossible to put what I'm thinking into typed words that others might read. Mostly because it would read something like a kitten mewling at the door when it's starting to rain.

"In My Life" has just started to play and I can see the bottom of my coffee cup so I should sign off now, but I miss you all.

Friday, May 16, 2008

What I Should Be Doing With My Time

1) Flying.

2) Getting a good night's sleep.

3) Planning for the future.

4) Blogging?

Monday, March 24, 2008

Slate, Apartment Clean

Yesterday I managed to have a pretty low-stress (for me) dinner party. I made super easy comfortable stuff and we drank a ton of wine and it really wasn't a big deal that no one really knew anyone else. Anyhow, it made me realize how very much I love my apartment. There were only six of us here yesterday, but the room felt so full. Not uncomfortably so (it does when there are eight...) but just happy full. The yellow on the walls and the brown lap shade made it soft and warm feeling. Sure the chairs aren't that comfortable and the legs seems to be coming off one of them, but I love the way everything has been found, acquired, bought for a couple dollars and the overall effect is so unified and personal and feels reflective of me and of Richard. So it's really great to have people that I've met in various places all sit in this space and drink out of these cups that I found in a shoebox on the street.

I am feeling excited actually. Not because I am really doing anything special. But because I know that I am about to. I think it's a sort of thing with spring time. Right now it's still pretty chilly most days but the sun has been consistently brilliant. It's great because I have all this time and the stupid-big sunglasses so I can just walk where ever seems sunniest and soak in all the vitamins (or just D, really). I am thinking and planning and having ideas and throwing them out. It's like exercising a muscle. The change muscle. Feels good.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Not by way of explaination exactly....

but when you're crying lying down, the skin behind your ears gets wet. It tickles in an infuriating way.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Welcome Home, Indeed!

Yesterday, as our plane was taxi-ing into the gate at JFK the pilot announced that it was 15 degrees Farenheit outside with winds of up to 25 miles per hour. If it were relevant or customary, upon take-off earlier that day he would have announced that the outside temperature was hovering between 78 and 80 degrees farenheit with nary a cloud in the blue, smog-streaked California sky. Yes, I am home. California was just about perfect. The weather, sights, friends all wonderful. Like an early Spring now cruely plucked from my too easily fooled finger tips.

When I finally ventured out of my apartment this evening to buy some lentils (friend to the broke and irregular) I wore the following clothing:

(underwear and bra, given)
1. tights
2. boxer shorts
3. jeans (in that order, yes)
4. wool knee socks
5. other wool socks
6. hiking boots
7. t-shirt
8. hoodie
9. wool sweater
10. wool coat w/ lining
11. wool hat (under pulled up hood)
12. wool scarf
13. glittens

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Recommended: Other People's Blogs

I know it's annoying to read posts that are all about not posting, so we'll leave it at this: I have no excuse. I am just not that good at it...

Ok, but here's the thing. I have some friends who really are. Leila, who has been my friend since sixth grade and lives quite near me now (might be moving closer! fingers crossed!), writes a blog about Boston restaurants as her job. In addition she has a personal blog and a tumblr (I don't really understand that phenomenon but it's fun!). For those keeping score that's three blogs she updates exponentially more frequently than I update this one blog. Additionally she is funny and informative while she does it. Were we not such good friends it might be intimidating.

Tommy, another old friend, though one who lives a little farther away, is also a very consistent blogger. He really posts everyday. And not because he's participating in some contest like me in November. His blog is basically about whatever he wants to talk about but he is always very earnest. It's striking how much he sounds like himself when he writes (or in his videos, but that's not the point). It's very charming.

Finally my room mate, Richard also makes his living writing blog post (and making advertising work right). In addition he has a personal blog that is also much more frequently updated than mine. While the subject matter is somewhat random he certainly has me beat for late-night, inebriated content. Whereas most of the posts I write after a bottle of wine are little more than a mess of misspelled words* and non-sequiturs, his are filled with a poetic self-deprecation that is both apt and hilarious. That's probably why he posts his and mine remain in the draft folder.

So if you're here and wondering why I haven't posted in a while (though it's probably because I'm on vacation... three days!!!!) you should try any of these trusted recommendations. Also if anyone knows how I can make one of those fancy link bars in the margin I'll include them there.

*Richard is my personal spell check (notably in the tags and titles where my general spell check doesn't work).

Friday, January 25, 2008

Haiku for Tonight

I have spilled lots
Of things in my purse but cough
Syrup is the worst

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Un-Endorsed: Cuervo Black and Cola

So I just saw an advertisement (which played after midnight sandwiched between ads for gentlemen's clubs) which instructed me how to order a "Cuervo Black" and cola. Ok, so from what I can tell Cuervo Black is different from normal Cuervo because it's aged in charred barrels for longer. And according to sources* it is meant to appeal to an older, more discerning tequila drinker. And sure, the dudes in the commercial looked like the thirty-somethings in shiny shirts who hit on girls in bars who got in with fake ids. And to me Jose Cuervo is pretty much for eighteen year-olds bribing hobos in front of the liquor store (I hear). The thing is, you order Cuervo and cola the normal way but when your drunk bartender only hears the word "Cuervo" you just remind them not to reach for those shot glasses. Let me tell you about drinking tequila with coke. It's yucky. It tastes like coke until the end when it has that terrible tequila raw egg yolk essence. Truly, you can age your tequila in candy coated cola barrels and it won't taste good with coke. Let's get real.

*I actually don't intend to list my sources here.

Monday, January 21, 2008

[insert song lyric here..]

So on February 2 I am boarding a plane and leaving this cold mess of a city behind for a week. Josh and I am going to land in San Francisco and drive down to LA. It's actually a totally thrilling, glamorous vacation to be going on. We're going to see lots of friends and some giant trees and the Pacific Coast in all it's mid-winter splendor. If you are a secret reader of this blog and you live in California let me know if you want to hang out. Or if you have a suggestion of something we totally must not miss (especially in the Santa Barbara area where we are planning to spend a night to drink some wine and break up the driving a bit). Let me know!

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Fashion Advice

So I bought boots online. You may know that I am inherently mistrustful of internet shopping. But I tried them on in a store first (in a different color) so I knew they'd fit. But now they've come and I am having my customary second thoughts. Unable to bring you, my trusted friends, to my apartment (because if I wear the boots outside I can't return them) I need your advice here on the ole blog.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Finally! The Butternut Squash Soup Recipe

By popular demand (or perhaps a g-chat message from Rachel) here is the recipe for the butternut squash soup I made yesterday:

1 butternut squash, peeled, de-pulped and cut into chunks
1/2 onion (normal size, like a small person's fist) diced pretty small
2 in. of ginger root peeled and chopped
A pinch each of nutmeg, cinnamon and Cheyenne pepper (bigger pinches of the first two than the last)
2 cups chicken broth (give or take)
2 Tbs. heavy cream (or whatever seems good)
A bit of butter

-So you melt the butter in a heavy pot and saute it onions until they're pretty soft.
-Add the butternut squash, ginger and chicken broth, add water to cover the squash most of the way
-Bring to a boil, then add the other spices and a couple tablespoons of salt.
-Cover and simmer until the squash is soft (it took me 15 or 20 minutes).
-If there's a lot of liquid, strain it.
-Put everything in the food processor and whirl it around till it's pretty smooth.
-Add the cream and whirl some more till it's fluffy.

Oila! You're done!

I did not garnish my soup because I wasn't feeling too ambitious last night, but you can be pretty creative. Scallions or chives would be a good call. Or pumpkin seeds. Or sour cream/yogurt.

Keepin' it Smooth '08

So I don't like to brag here, but I got a pretty sweet gift for Christmas this year. A food processor. Like a real fancy, Cuisinart one. It's so sleek, so easy, so smooth-making. And although I did use it to make crusts for my annual New Year's Day quiche (little too wet, not so easy to roll), tonight I did an awesome food-processor-enabled thing. Butternut Squash Soup.

I have to say that this is one of my very favorite types of soup. And I do like soup. I just don't think it would be possible to effectively deliver the consistency that gives this soup that certain je ne sais quois (disclaimer: spell check doesn't work on French) with a hand-operated device. I'm sure all you Luddites out there reading this blog (you know, on computers) will balk at my newly mechanized kitchen habits, but really is there any other way to get that smooth, nearly fluffy texture? You see, what I did was add heavy cream during the processing of the soup. And it sort of fluffed up. Perfect.

And I hope this doesn't make you too jealous, but I'm going to eat it again for lunch tomorrow.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Who Wants to Hire Me?

So I have been finished with my internship for about two weeks now. Mostly I have filled that time with the holidays and cleaning up after them. I have also begun several projects of varying sizes I had been putting off for a long time. Mostly these involve minor improvements to the infrastructure of my apartment. For example we now have a coat rack in the hall so our living room chairs aren't littered with outerwear. Our toilet paper holder is now fully attached to the wall in the bathroom. My next project involves some new furniture pieces and a change of light source for the kitchen (the horrible florescent sucks at my soul). Perhaps less obviously productive I have begun to watch the much praised television series, Battlestar Gallactica. I'll write more about that in the future, don't worry.

The true purpose of this post is to beg for a job. I don't think I can work nights and intern during the day anymore. The schedule is too taxing and my personal life, sleep patterns and diet all suffered. And while I do like my night job.... well, it's time to grow up. And so, dear internet, I send out this earnest entreaty for all the world to read: I work hard, learn quickly and have the will/desire to learn a new trade. Please hire me.