Sweet Blog O'Mine

Category: Life

  • Sometimes You Can Get What You Want

    After a bout with food poisoning on Thursday night/Friday, I recovered enough to start off Saturday at a spin class with Hallie and Eliza.  The instructor had picked some fantastic music, which can make all the difference in a spin class, including a final 7-minute hill to "You Can’t Always Get What You Want."  Absolutely perfect.

    Yesterday, after paying all my bills, I met up with Deb for a snack at the lovely Tarrallucci e Vino and then I accompanied her to Starbucks so she could get a drink.  She ordered with such precision and accuracy — clearly this was a woman who, through trial and error, had learned how to get exactly what she wanted through Starbucks-speak: a tall, skim, no water, 180 chai latte.  In translation, this is a medium chai latte made with skim milk, with no water (normally they use 1/2 water), heated to 180 degrees, rather than the typical 160.  It was the best Starbucks ordering I have ever heard.

  • Vodka, Caviar, and Cheesy Costumes, Take 2

    147_4767_r1Ah, the Old Russian New Year.  The decadence, the debauchery, and don’t forget — the vodka.  Plenty of it. 

    Many thanks to Bryn for organizing, Seth for inviting me (and timing his visit so perfectly), and Max and Marianne for being such wonderful company (and a special shout-out to Marianne for being the first to ask me to dance!).  You can find the pictures here.  And if you want to relive the fun from two years ago, you can do that too.

  • Cycles

    Tonight, on my way home from the gym, I bought two bunches of daffodils, the first I have seen this year.  They’re slowly opening up, and by the morning they should be open, giving my apartment a sunny burst of yellow.  It might only be January, but I’m already thinking about 2006 as it stretches ahead of me and the pleasure of familiar cycles — winter turns to spring, which turns to summer, then on to fall, and back to winter. 

    And speaking of cycles, there’s one cycle that has been somewhat neglected this past year — my bike has been sitting woefully in the corner while I’ve been out in Kismet at the beach.  Not so this year — that cycle is going to be broken.  I’ll still be out at the beach, but hope to balance it out with some more time on the bike, culminating in a Blue Marble trip to Spain in September.  I can’t wait!

  • Catch Up

    Somehow I haven’t managed to find time to post about my adventures last week, which included delicious meals at Momofuku, Pampano, and Cookshop, and the Old Russian New Year, from which I spent a great deal of Sunday recovering on the couch.  Granted, I am still setting up the new computer and only last night got my camera hooked up to download, but still — there’s really no excuse.  Stay tuned for pictures.

  • Jackass Denoument

    I was berated by a friend, colleague, and blog reader when I told him I hoped that 2006 would be a jackass-free year.  "But what about your readers?!"  he lamented, "What about our entertainment?"  Never fear, I’m sure I’ll find something else to write about that will be equally entertaining.  If I don’t encounter any jackasses this year (hell, it’s still January, I’ve got plenty of time), I’ll solicit your stories and we can all vote on the best. 

    This has been another super-busy week, but full of good eating — will fill you in later.  The good news is that I think I’ve solved my internet connectivity problems, and am falling head over heels in love with my laptop — I simply adore being able to write while sitting on my couch!  I can just imagine how thrilled I’ll be when I actually leave the house with this thing . . .

  • The Recap

    While you’re all still voting (I’ll keep the poll open until midnight, Eastern Standard time, this Friday), I figured I should (finally) give a recap of New Year’s Eve festivities and the aftermath.  I had a few party invitations which were all, unfortunately, way too far apart for comfortable party hopping, so I did the logical thing — brought the party to me.  I ended up having a fairly last-minute small dinner party for six: me, John B., the Lovely Miss Katie, Mark, and his two friends who were in from out of town, Holly and Jenny.  I wanted to be slightly decadent for the occasion, but without making myself too nuts in the kitchen — the menu ended up being seafood-based:  shrimp cocktail with zingy, spicy cocktail sauce from Whole Foods, seared scallops with chives and basil oil, steamed lobsters, green beans with caramelized onions, truffled mashed Yukon Gold potatoes, an arugula and radicchio salad with toasted pine nuts and pomegranate that we skipped entirely, so as to leave room for our poached pears with pear-chocolate sauce.  All in all, an elegant, yet completely sloppy meal (lobster shells were a-flyin’.  Most of us stayed around until midnight, then people went their separate ways.  I ended up at Cru, meeting Augie, Lauren, Alvin, and their crew, who generously shared a glass of ’86 Penfolds Grange Hermitage and a few sips each of ’86 and ’75 d’Yquem.  Not a bad way to round out the evening. 

    The next day was Lauren and Augie’s second annual New Year’s Day gathering to eat mac and cheese, watch the Big Leibowski and drink white Russians.  All was fine and good until the white Russians caught up with me (they were small, but potent as hell), and forced me to take a nap.  I had an hour in mind — my body decided it would be three.  I woke up around 10:45 pm and couldn’t fall asleep until about 3 am.  I spent a great deal of that time watching "Talk Sex with Sue," a call-in sex show on Oxygen featuring a Canadian grandmotherly woman in her sixties.  If you haven’t watched it, you should, if only to admire her no-nonsense, yet healthy and sex-positive approach to her callers questions, which are all over the map.

    To top off the three-day weekend, Tamara and I went to dinner at Babbo to say hello to Ken, one of the bartenders there, who we had met out at Bar Carrera last week (and then joined for karaoke at Sing Sing).  We dined at the bar, befriended a lovely couple from Malibu who invited us to come out to drink wine and go biking with them sometime (woo hoo!), and had the pleasure of sitting next to Elvis Mitchell and Quentin Tarantino for a while (they were talking about the Simpsons episodes that included Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs references).  We also ate and drank fabulously — the highlight for me was definitely the goose liver ravioli with brown butter and balsamic.  Sheer heaven.  After that, I was ready to face the work week.

  • Get out the Vote

    Okay gang, here’s some help to make the voting a little easier — take your pick!

          

           

    Who should be the Jackass of the Year?
    Contestant #1
    Contestant #2
                

    Send this poll to a friend!

  • Contestant #2: The Goofball

    I met our second contestant at a very raucous party.  We danced, joked, took stupid pictures, and, to make a long story short, eventually agreed to go out on a proper date.  I was pretty happy about this, because although he was fun, he seemed like a bit of a goofball, and I was curious to see if there was any depth to him.  Due to M’s job, for which he traveled quite a bit, we hadn’t nailed down a date when we ended up at the same party the following week.  At the party, we talked about possibly going out later that week.  I mentioned that a mutual friend of ours was having a birthday party that Friday.  He hadn’t been invited, but after I asked the birthday girl if I could bring a date to her party, we were all set. 

    Although we both knew the birthday girl, he was uncomfortable enough about not having been invited to her party that he waited downstairs for me to arrive, and then we headed upstairs together.  We sat next to each other at dinner, we met some people who clearly thought we were a couple; one woman might have even mistakenly referred to M as my boyfriend, but I don’t recall — don’t want to embellish erroneously.  The bottom line is that it was clear from the beginning of the evening that we were there together. 

    The evening progressed.  A great deal of sake was consumed by all.  The party progressed from the large common room we had been in for dinner to the birthday girl’s apartment (more sake) then on to a nearby bar for even more drinks and dancing.  At some point, I turned around and there was my date, making out with the birthday girl.  I tapped him on the shoulder, "can I have a word with you?"  He pried himself away and we huddled in a quiet hallway.  "Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression that I was here with you tonight."  "You are, I’m sorry," he slurred. "Are you sure about that?  Because I want to make sure we’re both on the same page here."  "Yes, I’m sure." He kissed me.  In my own somewhat tipsy state, oddly this was enough to reassure me.  We wandered back to the dance floor.  A short while later, I went to fetch a drink from the bar.  I turned around, and my "date" and the birthday girl were at it again.  That was enough.  I walked up to them.  "Happy birthday — you’ve got my date."  I turned to him, "have a lovely evening."  I walked out and picked up my cell phone, calling Rob, who was out at ‘inoteca with some friends.  I sobbed in the cab on the way there, not over my date (in fact, I was quite relieved that I had learned what a jerk he was so quickly), but over the fact that I was starting to feel like if there was a jackass out there, I could pick him out of a crowd.  Rob and his friends consoled me that night, and luckily, I haven’t had another candidate surface since then.

    So, there you have it!  Pick your favorite jackass, leave me a note in the comments, and I’ll post the winner after the New Year.  Have a healthy and happy New Year, everyone!

  • Contestant #1: The Young ‘Un

    I met our first contestant through Dodgeball late one night at The Stoned Crow, and within a week we were actually out on a proper date.  Despite our difference in ages (he is 11 years my junior), I actually found N to be smart, funny, interesting, and good company, but because of our difference in ages (among other things), I knew that N was not a contender for anything serious, but we spent a decent amount of time together, and even actually used the word "dating" once or twice.  Alas, N was about to head off to Australia for a month, but he made it clear that he really wanted to see me before he left town.  After some consultation, we agreed to meet up at some point over the course of the evening, as each of us had various birthday parties to attend in different boroughs, but through Dodgeball and text message, we kept each other posted as to our whereabouts.  Finally, we agreed to meet up at the birthday party I was attending at the Cellar.

    N walked in with a woman, came up to me, and said, "this is my platonic friend, Alexa."  "Nice to meet you," I replied, and bought us all a round of drinks.  He tapped me on the arm, "Can I talk to you for a sec?"  "Sure."  We went off to a quiet table in the corner.  "Alexa used to be my roommate, and she has always been a platonic friend."  "Okay," I said, not really sure where this was going.  "But I’m getting a vibe that something might happen with her tonight, and she’s going to California tomorrow, and," he paused, "you don’t like girls at all, do you?"  "Excuse me?"  "Do you like girls?"  "Um, no."  He took this in.  "Oh."  Pause.  "Well, then I think I need to give things a go with her."  I sat there, stunned for a moment, then glared at him.  "Do you realize what a jackass move you are making here?"  He squirmed uneasily.  "Yeah, I guess so."  "Okay then," I said, pushing away from the table, "have fun tonight, have a great trip, and see ya."  "Yeah, okay.  I’m really sorry about this."  "You should be."  I stormed off.

    Moral of the story — I should not be dating people my brother and sister’s age, or if I do, I’ve got to expect immature behavior.  Then again, many guys to whom I’ve recounted this story have given him props for at least asking about the potential of a threesome (23 year olds are not known for their tact).  Who knows, in a different situation, he might have gotten lucky, but that night with me, all he got was a nomination for Jackass of the Year.

    Coming next, the second (and final, unless something really awful happens in the next 24 hours) contestant.

  • M.I.A.

    All of a sudden I realized that it’s been a week since my last post — I guess I needed a break.  Either that, or I had to recover from all my walking during the transit strike.  Either way, I’m back.

    The past week has been a blur of fun, food and festivities, from Christmas Eve roast beef with my mom and Stephen, to Christmas brunch at Fran’s, to a huge family dinner at Pampano last night.  And, oh yeah, my 35th birthday was in there somewhere (or as my friend Gary called it, my half 70th birthday.  Thanks, Gary — just remember that you’re older than I am).  I still have some mixed feelings about turning 35, and the egg-freezing conversation that my cousins and I had on Christmas just added to the mix, but overall, I’m feeling pretty good.  I started the day with a training session, and ended it surrounded by good friends.  I received birthday wishes (and flowers — thanks Dad and Joan!) from friends via phone, text message, and email — thank you all so much for a perfect birthday. 

    And now that the year is winding down, it’s time for a few things — I’m going to try to pull some of my favorite photos from the year (although I didn’t make calendars this time around), and, of course, you get the choose the Sweet Blog o’ Mine Jackass of the Year.  Stories begin soon.