Sweet Blog O'Mine

Author: Laren

  • The Unwritten Code

    So I was busted again yesterday.  I was at a meeting of professional colleagues yesterday — let’s just say it was a room full of folks who have the kind of job that I want.  (I’m that close . . . but not quite there). Anyhow, a few of them know about my blogging; more about the stuff I do for Gothamist Food than about this site, but one guy didn’t know about it, and was very hurt to learn that I had been "hiding" my food knowledge from him!  He was teasing, of course, and I managed to redeem myself by taking a bunch of these folks to the Burger Joint, which they loved (although they joked that their respective law firms weren’t going to believe how cheap their dinners were). 

    I also learned that one of these folks has a blog.  I’m not even going to link to it now, because he seemed somewhat concerned about work people discovering it, as it’s a tad more racy and less vanilla than my site.  But as far as I’m concerned, there’s an unwritten code among bloggers.  It’s kind of like Vegas — what happens here stays here.  I’m not going to tell anyone about his blog, or what I read on his blog, or discuss it in front of anyone we know.  The two worlds are completely compartmentalized, and all secrets are safe and sacred.  I have to admit, though, it’s somewhat comforting to know that I have a fellow blogger out there in my professional world, and that there is a bit of overlap. 

    And on a completely unrelated note, go to Moveable Hype 2.0 tonight — I’ll be there, possibly wearing an obscenely snug Gothamist t-shirt.

  • A Subtle V-Day Message for the Boys Out There

    Love

    Courtesy of Gaping Void

    Extra special smooches and whatnot to everyone today, especially Jeff, who has sent me e-flowers at least three years running.

  • Gone Fishin’



    Went to Jewel Bako Makimono last night with Rob. In a nutshell — yum. I even tried some new things — sushi came somewhat late in life for me, post-college, so I tend to stick to the basics, like tuna, salmon, and yellowtail. But not last night. I was so incredibly tired after the meal, however, that I retired to the couch. In before midnight on a weekend for the first time in ages. I think I needed that!

  • Oh Yeah. That.

    So when is it appropriate to tell someone you’re dating or planning to go out with about your blog (or in my case, blogs)?  My gut reaction is — look, this is part of who I am, it comes with the territory, so get used to it.  And certainly, this blog and Gothamist Food are hardly places where I air my dirty laundry, tell my tales of dating woe, or bare my deepest, darkest thoughts, so I can’t imagine that anyone would really have a problem with it.

    But I had a recent experience trying to schedule a date with someone I had met on JDate (yes, I’ve had a relapse.  I don’t want to discuss it).  I sent him an email from this old hotmail account which I used to use for online dating and blog-related stuff before I got my sweetblogomine.com domain.  Instead of my first and last name being displayed, I am identified as "Laren at Sweet Blog o’ Mine."  He responded to one of my emails and replaced whatever the subject line had been previously with "Sweet Blog o’ Mine."  Busted.  I did what anyone in my situation might do — completely ignore what he had done and continue with our ridiculous scheduling negotiations (I’m starting to think that scheduling is one of the primary obstacles to dating in this city — at least dating anyone interesting).  We’re set to go out next week, but I’d imagine that he might peek over here before then. 

    When I think about the guys I’ve gone out with over the past year, it’s kind of a mixed bag — I know that some of them read my blog.  Some while we were dating, and one blind date even read up on me before our date so he could get the inside scoop.  I’ve never dated a blogger, so I don’t really know what that’s like, but I’d imagine it must be sort of weird reading up on someone’s life, but it might actually provide some degree of insight.

    What about you?  Do you tell or not?  When?  Why?  I don’t think Ms. Manners has an official rule on this one, so I turn to you for the answer.

  • 99 Cents Can Buy You Happiness

    At least temporarily.  The other night I was out at Odea with Manhattan Transfer.  A familiar song came on and we asked the bartender who sang it.  "Elton John," she replied, incorrectly.  I knew then what the answer was — The Scissor Sisters.  I went home and immediately bought "Take Your Mama," on iTunes, which has been in heavy, almost junkie-like iPod rotation since I made the 99 cent investment, especially since the recent meltdown.

    And thanks to all who have written to check up on me — I’m okay.  No guarantees that it won’t happen again, but for now, I’m good.

  • It’s All Right to Cry*

    Today was one of those days when I just lost it.  At the very least, I made it home before having a deep, hearty, and heartfelt sob.  My dad managed to get the brunt of it, due to completely unintentional poor timing on his part (he was returning my call).  I know that everything and anything I’m dealing with is temporary, that none of it is earth-shattering or particularly bad, that I’ll make it through, that I have the most supportive family and friends that anyone could ask for, but sometimes, when it all feels like too much all at once . . . you just need a good sob to make it through the day.  Follow that up with a good booty-busting workout and you’re almost as good as new.  Almost.  Sigh.

    * A tribute to Free to Be . . .You and Me, of course.

  • The Birthday and the Booty

    BirthdayboyA perfect image from last night’s birthday party — the birthday boy himself, cupcake in one hand, Schlitz in the other. 

    It was a fun and interesting evening, complete with fellow bloggers, folks from high school, a few of whom I hadn’t seen in years, and even someone who recognized me from a pro bono panel I did at Cardozo Law School recently.  And when the mood of evening turned slightly sour for me thanks to some jackass behavior on someone’s part, I met up with friends for some late-night bitching over a glass of wine.  Very thankful that I have friends who stay out late every now and again, and thank god for cell phones.

    As a result, I’m pooped today, but still managed to make it to the gym — I’m on a bit of a mission, as there’s a bridesmaid’s dress that I have to wear in a few weeks that was feeling a tad too snug around the booty for my taste.  Wish me luck — my booty and I have till February 20th to get our act together, so it’s back to the gym in the morning.  Not to mention every morning and/or night until February 20th.  Sigh.

  • Saturday Afternoon Ramblings

    Glovemontage

    Tien called them "glommitts," Manhattan Transfer called them "bum-finger gloves."  Call them what you will, but I absolutely love mine.  I now have two pairs, and they are a savior when dealing with cell phones, metrocards, and everything else.

    To continue the bday season (not mine anymore, sadly), last night was a birthday party at Double Happiness for a good friend from high school and his boyfriend, and tonight is Manhattan Transfer’s bday.  He has assured me that there will be plenty of debauchery and cute single boys.  What more can a girl ask for, really?  Between now and then I have a bunch of errands to do, including getting my bridesmaid’s dress for Erika and Jeremy’s upcoming wedding altered.  Erika, being the fabulous friend that she is, picked a super-hot, black Vera Wang number that not only will I be able to wear again, but it shows off my cleavage beautifully!  Hey — if you’ve got it, flaunt it.

    See you at the party!

  • Booze in the ‘Hood

    If you haven’t already, go check out my friend and neighbor Manhattan Transfer’s list of 240(ish) bars below 14th Street.  I’m tellin’ ya, life is great down here.  It’s a fabulous neighborhood for alcoholics social drinkers, and in fact, the NYC Health Department highlighted our tendencies for "heavy drinking" in a recent study, Alcohol Use in New York City.  So go pick a bar off of the list and make your neighbors proud!

  • Got Me a New Cameraphone

    . . . and apparently figured out how to send pics to flickr with it. Still haven’t managed to make it go directly to Typepad, but that’s ok. This amazingly flattering picture of Rob is now what pops up on my phone when he calls. Now that I’ve posted this, he’ll probably never call me again.

    Thanks again to the lovely folks at Verizon Wireless customer service who allowed me to cash in on my "new every two" program a few months early. My old phone was being held together with spit and bubble gum, and it no longer rang, which was really annoying the shit out of me.  I was afraid that I’d be chatting away one day and the thing would just snap in two.  I can’t even tell you how happy I am to hear my cell phone ring again!  And the cameraphone?  Extra bonus.  And just wait . . . it takes videos too. . .