Sweet Blog O'Mine

Author: Laren

  • Non Sequiturs

    Those of you in the beach house know I’ve been talking about this all summer — there should be an alarm clock that wakes you up with the smell of bacon.  Guess what —  my birthday’s coming up. 

    I was walking home from the subway last night, when I passed by Reservoir.  As I approached, a guy stumbled out and said, "can I ask you something?"  "Sure – quickly." (I wasn’t slowing down my pace)  "Can I have your number?"  "No." "I have money," he offered.  "Great," I replied over my shoulder.  I didn’t stop to find out how much he would have paid.  Sigh.  At least he got right to the point.

    I was asked to be the fire marshall for my floor at work.  Apparently this is a very important position which involves jumping into action when I smell smoke or hear a fire alarm — my job is to call a few other key people on my floor.  Hopefully I’ll have time to do this before the smoke gets too close to my office.  Oh yeah . . . and I get a nifty flashlight.

  • Fall Bounty

    rainbow chardbrussels sprouts


    purple and yellow carrotsgourds


    chilesstill more chiles

    How much do I adore the Union Square greenmarket at this time of year?

  • A.W.O.L.

    After walking around in agony since Wednesday morning, I made the executive decision to skip boot camp this morning in exchange for more sleep and a Pilates video.  I am still so ridiculously sore that I’m moving like an 80-year-old woman — this weekend I’ll attempt some light cardio, go to yoga with Nikki to stretch out all the creakiness, and I believe that a good, solid schvitz is in order.  After all that and some decent rest, I think I’ll be ready to re-enlist at 6 a.m. Monday morning. 

    Wednesday night I had the pleasure of eating at my friend Ron’s new restaurant with Erika and Jeremy. Pair of 8’s, on the Upper West Side, is going to be a huge success — on their second night they were already full and turning people away.  They have a fantastic special on Monday nights: $25 prix fixe for two courses and a drink. It might even be enough to make me go uptown more often.
    Congrats, Ron!  Last night I had the pleasure of attending an awards ceremony where one of the associates at my firm was honored for her inspirational pro bono work on behalf of domestic violence victims for Sanctuary for Families.  Yay, Hannah!  After that, I had a top secret meeting with a fellow Vendy Award judge to determine our criteria for next week’s event — go buy your tickets! 

    Tonight I’m hosting a wine tasting dinner with Jenn, Vivian, and Melissa.  At our last one, we went through six bottles of wine among the four of us, so I’m definitely looking forward to this one!  Now, I just need to figure out how I’m going to clean up this pigsty of an apartment and buy dinner (pumpkin ravioli with sage and brown butter) sometime before 8:00 tonight . . .

  • Yeehaw!

    Believe it or not, I went square dancing last night.  Many thanks to Sean for being up for the adventure.  We’re going to recruit a large group next time and make an event out of it, so get ready.  We also discovered (thanks to a tip from Nicole), the Leela Lounge, a great new upscale Indian restaurant right nearby.  More on that later.  And for those of you who asked (Dad), yes, I’m still doing boot camp.  It’s not getting any easier and I still come home and crash for another 45 minutes after my shower.  I think it’s killing me slowly.

  • Boo

    Goth

    At least two different people told me that I looked hot and should dress like a goth more often.  I don’t think I could handle the time and effort it took to put on that much eyeliner on a regular basis.  The rest of the pictures (from Kirsten’s party and more) are here.  Happy Halloween!

  • The Long Road to Recovery

    I can hardly believe that my body is still sore from my boot camp workout Friday morning.  I’m really not sure how I’m going to do it three mornings this week and still manage to move, let alone lift my arms up over my head without wincing.  I was so wiped out from the morning’s workout that I didn’t make it out on Friday night, but I did make it to Kirsten’s Halloween party last night.  Many thanks to Katie, Jen, Rachel, Kim, Nikki, and April for coming over early to get ready.  Pictures will be up tomorrow for your Halloween pleasure. . .

  • Clearly, I’ve Lost My Mind

    Not only did I wake up and get out of bed before it was light out this morning, but I willingly went out to Washington Square Park for a boot-camp style workout.  As I was cleaning out a huge pile of mail, I stumbled across a flyer from Bootcamp Republic, announcing their next session.  Assuming it was some sort of message, and inspired by Doug and Leora, enrolled in a similar program in Brooklyn, (they were out during OJ doing squat thrusts and situps with huge water jugs; I was proud enough that I went for a run), I went for my free trial workout.  It’s now light out, and I’m not sure my quads are going to support me for the rest of the day, but we’ll see how it goes.

    This madness and the Pilates were inspired by the fact that I really want to improve my fitness level before my 35th birthday, which is rapidly approaching, and maintain it thereafter.  When I did the AIDS ride and other long-distance rides, I went to spin classes and strength training several times a week, and yoga once a week.  Now my workouts are spotty, irregular, and certainly nowhere near as intense as a spin class.  I barely went biking this summer, and my flexibility has dwindled to a pathetic level.  It’s sad and frustrating, but I know I’m the only one who can do anything about it, and I know I have the capacity to do it.  So — wish me luck and think of me as you’re snuggled in your beds every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 6am for the next few weeks.  And don’t be upset if I can’t go out late with you on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday.  It’s nothing personal.

  • I’m Tired*

    *for best results, just imagine Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles.

    You can tell how busy I am by the amount of crap piled up on my dining table, the number of dishes in my sink, and the degree to which my apartment is in a state of general disarray.  Thankfully, after tonight (planned night in), the piles on the table are a little smaller, the dishes are washed, I’ve written one out of three things I wanted to write for Gothamist tomorrow, and I’m getting to bed at a reasonable hour.  As my friend Katie pointed out, my blog posts are getting shorter and shorter.  I’m just tired these days.  After returning from OJ, I’ve been going nonstop — work’s been busy, I went to the Human Rights First gala dinner on Monday, and had dinner with Jenn at Joya (yum!) last night.  My apologies, dear readers.  I don’t mean to be terse.  And speaking of readers — I’ve been checking out my stats lately, and I’m dying to know who the reader is from Chicago who did a Yahoo search for "blog by a woman named laren set in new york city."  ‘Fess up!

  • Ooh — I Got a Shout-Out!

    From Ms. Lusty Lady in her recent Village Voice column.  (I’m the L. who used the phrase "dating yourself.")  Thanks!

  • Yes, We’re 12.

    Oj_group

    Any weekend that leaves your abs in pain from laughing hysterically is a good one, at least in my book.  Thanks to all for another year of ridiculousness, summed up in a phrase that made me laugh more than anything in a while:  while searching for the word "flaccid," John mistakenly uttered the phrase "flatulent penis," and then spent a decent amount of time describing what this would look like, in more detail than I’d ever, EVER, want to imagine.  The pictures (of the weekend, not of the flatulent penis) are here.