Sweet Blog O'Mine

Category: Life

  • 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!

  • Yenta Drives a Taxi, Apparently

    So it seems there are folks out there other than Hugh who think I need a husband.  As I was on my way home, alone, in a cab after my birthday on Saturday night (well, early Sunday morning.  Details, details), the driver started chatting with me.  "Where’s your husband tonight?"  "I don’t have a husband."  "Boyfriend, then?" "Nope, no boyfriend."  He glanced back at me in the rearview mirror.  "Really?"  "Yep.  Really."  He then proceeded to tell me all about his friend Gil, who he thought I should meet.  Apparently he owns his own business – a sporting goods company.  He kept telling me this as an illustration of what good husband material Gil was.  He then asked if he could give me Gil’s contact information, which he wrote for me on a napkin and handed to me as he dropped me off at home.

    I’m not sure I’m quite at the point where I’d contact someone referred to me by a perfect stranger (a cabdriver who drove me home at 4:30 a.m. no less), but I certainly was impressed to learn that his sporting goods company is strictly opposed to child labor.  Call me picky if you will, but ya gotta draw lines somewhere, folks.

  • Another Birthday Bash


    Birthday Girls
    Originally uploaded by Sweet Blog o’ Mine.

    Ellen and I co-hosted a birthday party at the Magician last night. It was so wonderful to have such a rich cross-section of all the folks in my life: friends from high school, college, camp, bloggers, wine club society, and other assorted riff-raff with whom I socialize. The only downside to hosting a big party in a crowded bar — not enough time or space to talk to everyone who came. Thanks to everyone who made it out, and extra-special thanks to the crew who made it for late-night karaoke at Winnie’s!

    You can see the whole album here (and yes, the photo above was posted through flick’r).

  • The Grass is Always Greener

    So it’s Saturday, I let myself sleep ridiculously late in preparation for what may be late night at the bday bash, and I’m puttering around the apartment, listening to Jonathan Schwartz on WNYC.  I just heard two of the most depressing Sondheim songs: Sorry, Grateful, from Company, which attempts to describe the characters’ feeling about his marriage, and Saturday Night from Saturday Night about how if you’re alone on a Saturday night when you’re single, "you might as well be dead."  Jeez.

    This brings me back to a conversation I had yesterday with some married and formerly married female work colleagues, most of whom are somewhat older than I am — they were basically saying that husbands were great to have around for reproduction purposes, but then they essentially wore out their welcome.   I sat there with a panicked grin on my face, then finally turned and said, "so I should pretty much stick with single life, huh?."  "No," one replied, "not if you want a family."  Yes, I do want a family, but I don’t want to be unhappily married.  Look — I figure I’m increasing my odds of a good, healthy marriage the later it happens.  Even if I met the perfect guy for me tomorrow (or tonight at the birthday party, perhaps),  we’d have to have a relationship for a while, so by the time we actually get married, I’ll be solidly in my mid-to-late thirties.  I would like to hope that would help to prevent the "bitter married" attitute. 

    And I generally really enjoy being single (well, except when I’m sick), but I don’t want to lose hope that I’ll end up in a meaningful, healthy relationship that will ultimately turn into a healthy, long-lasting marriage and a family.

    Some of you married folks out there, gimme some hope, will ya?  And single folks — we don’t have it bad at all, right?

  • Rants o’ Mine, Take Three

    NanukSo why is it that people feel the need to stand directly in front of the subway doors when they have no intention whatsoever to get off the train?  Okay, I understand that sometimes, the trains are very crowded and there’s nowhere else to go, but I’m talking about the times when it’s not that crowded and there’s plenty of room to move towards the center of the car.  At the very least, when you see that there are people, like me for example, trying to board the train, you could at least turn sideways, or move slightly out of the way instead of just standing there impeding my progress.  C’mon folks, move to the center of the car unless you plan to get off.  Not that difficult.

    And on an unrelated (yet still ranting) note — it’s so fucking cold!!!!  Ack!  I’ve been wearing my puffy coat with its furry hood over my dorky ear-flap hat.  Very sexy.

  • Playing With Your Food

    Saycheese_1 This is what happens when you’re a regular at a place that serves condiments along with their cheese plate and they want to make you laugh:

    Plus, there haven’t been nearly enough pictures up here this week.  This piece of art is composed of two of the amarone cherries, a dab of the apricots with chili flakes and mustard seed, and my favorite, the truffled honey.

    So I’ve been taking it easy this weekend.  I stayed in Friday night to watch Donnie Darko and John B. ended up keeping me company, which was much nicer than watching it alone — I wasn’t really in the mood for solitude after my very anti-social week.  Saturday I had brunch with some lovely ladies who blog, and then a few of us wandered down to Chinatown in the bitter cold to continue chatting and shopf for a few things.  Later that night, I had dinner with my mom and stepfather, then met up with my friend Lauren for coffee.  And since I had to walk by Otto on my way home, I had to check in the window to see who was there, and of course I saw Nic, David and Luke (from the wine club society).  I stopped in, but kept the drinking to a minimum and was still in bed at a reasonable hour.

    Today, laundry, easing back into exercise, and some job-hunt-related stuff.  Next week is back to full-speed, but I still have to be careful not to overdo it.  We’ll see how it goes!

  • Slow Down, You’re Movin’ Too Fast*

    I’m actually listening to my body.  For a change.  It’s telling me that it’s exhausted and gave me a good dose of what turned out not to be the flu, but was actually strep throat.  Yippee!  So, I’m on antibiotics, etc. and am taking it easy.  Waaaay easy.  And don’t worry — I’m not contagious anymore.

    I used to get strep about once a semester in college, usually during some period of time when I was running myself ragged, so it doesn’t really surprise me that much that I was hit with it now.  I’m not necessarily running around that much from a physical standpoint, but I am trying to do many things at once in my life right now, and I think it’s a bit much for me.  So, I’m stepping back, slowing down a bit, getting sleep, eating right, and generally laying low, at least until my energy level is back to normal.  After that, I still need to stay cautious — I have a tendency to want to do everything.  And I can’t.  And although that frustrates the hell out of me sometimes, I’ve just got to deal with it.  Harrumph.

    * A nod to Simon and Garfunkel

  • Back in the Land of the Living. Kind of.

    I seem to be on the upswing from my bout with the flu.  Yesterday morning I awoke to find that I didn’t have a fever for the first time since Sunday night, which was good.  Although I allowed myself to sleep late, I was going stir-crazy from being in my studio apartment for two days, so I ventured back out into the big bad world.  It went fine, but even after a mere afternoon of work I was pretty damn pooped.  I retreated to the couch this evening.

    Last night, I did a little catching up on blogs.  You know I’m pretty sick when a) I have no appetite and b) I barely get on the internet.  Yeah, I checked some email here and there, and even managed to squeak out a Gothamist Food post or two despite my feverish brain, but I had a great deal of catching up to do.  Still do, as a matter of fact.  One thing that caught my eye was this article in the Observer about the increasing popularity of egg-freezing among NYC women in their mid-to-late thirties that I spotted via Gawker.  Now granted, given my age, every now and again I find myself in that panic mode:  Even if I met someone tomorrow, fell in love, dated him for a respectable time, and got married, it might still be somewhat late for me to give birth to my own child without a little scientific tweaking.  And although I think I’d like to have a child at some point, I’m certainly in no rush to have one on my own.  Hell, I still have trouble taking care of myself.  But it has never, and I mean never crossed my mind to freeze my eggs so that I can increase the odds of having a biological child down the road. 

    Look, whenever it so happens that I meet the guy, whomever he is, having a family will happen, and only time will tell whether it will be through biology, biology with a tweak of science, or through adoption, but the end result will be the same — we will be a family, and that’s what I really want in the end.

    Pretty heady stuff for the first day out of the flu, n’est-ce pas?

  • The Plague, Part Trois

    Now, new and improved!  With sandpapery throat, chills, aches, sweating, and 102 degree fever!

    Going to the doctor tomorrow.  Sick 3 times within a month?  Not good.  Okay, I’m about to make the big move from the couch to the bed.  Wish me luck.

  • Party Shuffle

    So I’m sitting here doing some work and I’ve got my iTunes on "party shuffle" mode, which, although it doesn’t really create the party-type atmosphere that might lift me out of the grey-day funk I seem to be in, makes me smile each time a new song comes up — I never know what’s going to be next.  Kind of like my life, I suppose. 

    In between bouts of work, I’m cooking up some stuff which is going to end up being either enchiladas or some sort of mexican chicken, bean, and tortilla casserole, depending on how I feel when all the pieces are done.  I’ve shredded the cheese, and am about to poach the chicken and make some enchilada-type sauce.  I was inspired by a new cookbook on casseroles that I picked up on the cheap at Strand yesterday.

    As for the rest of the weekend, Friday night I attempted to go to an opening-night party at Bombay Talkie, a spot billed as a "teahouse inspired by Bollywood  and the street foods of India."  Sounded great on the surface, but in reality, it was jam-packed, and the food wasn’t coming fast enough for me and my very hungry companion for the evening (although we did get a nice glass of Pinot Noir out of the deal).  I’ll have to go check it out some other time.  We skipped out and tried to go to Tia Pol, where I ran into a former colleague from Anderson Kill, but where they informed us that it would be an hour wait for a table.  We chose to head elsewhere before hunger-induced crankiness (and wine-on-an-empty-stomach induced drunkness) set in.  We ended up at a place called Bongo, which makes fantastic cocktails (including one hell of a sidecar) and a decent lobster roll.  I found it a little overseasoned, like the one at Mermaid Inn, but the heavily buttered roll softened the seasoning somewhat.  I still think I prefer Pearl for my NYC lobster rolls. 

    After dinner, I headed home, but caved in to that "I think I’ll just check in and see if anyone I know is at Otto" moment, which meant another glass of wine, and then through the magic of Dodgeball, ended up at The Stoned Crow, where I met up with Ned ("you know Ned through Nichelle," said Dodgeball).  Although I stuck to water at that point, I was definitely up a little later than I had originally intended.

    Saturday I had my friends Carrie and Brian over for brunch — made a frittata, which is my favorite thing to make for brunch-time company.  Acting very decadent, we made mimosas, and even had a little caviar and sour cream on rye toasts.  We were all a little too hungover to really dive in to anything but the fritatta, however.  After brunch, I did a few errands, and then some quiet time on the couch before heading to the Black Table party at Slainte.  I certainly took it easy, and went to bed at a reasonable hour, but I still had a great time catching up with some of my favorite bloggers, and my non-blogger (a.k.a. "normal") friend David even stopped by to say hello for a while.

    Tonight I’m going to the gym, eating some of whatever I end up whipping up, and then early to bed so I can get a jump start on the week — have a lot to do and I need to be energized, refreshed, and ready to tackle it all.  Let the party begin.