sprung

spring. Finally!

This may have been the lamest, stupidest winter in recent history but I'm still glad it's over because there are absolutely things I enjoy more than wool, gloves, tissues and boots. 

Easy, oven-free dinners like sandwich night - (almost always from Fairway) honey maple turkey on Portuguese rolls with cole slaw (because that kicks mustard's ass every time) and a (corn or pasta or whatever) salad.

A colorful break from the possibly chic but definitely depressing black and gray manicures to pastels and corals. 

I'm loving Essie's corals (which is weird because despite a deep adoration for orange hues I've never been a coral enthusiast) from the left; Pink-a-Boo, Cute as a Button, Boathouse (which I'm wearing - above) and Coral Canyon.  

My coffee addiction goes from burning hot to iced cold. I'm way too much of a Goldilock-control freak to let others make my coffee (I've tried but Dunkin' is way too watery, Starbuck's is too burnt, the bodega is hot coffee poured over ice - are you fucking kidding me?!) so I brew it and ice it myself. Toss in a little dark chocolate Hershey's and some milk and it turns out I make the most amazing "ombre" iced coffee if I do taste so myself. I've also managed to make enough so that I now have a stash at home and a stash at work -  sometimes, I'm frighteningly easily to please. 

no, I couldn't find a crappier picture 

Most of the year I adore my giant Marc Jacobs oceanliner bag. It's a neutral, go-with-everything brown leather behemoth, full of pockets that accommodates everything, and it should because it weighs as much as a trailer. By mid-March I'm usually dying to shed that 50 pound beast and start carrying my orange Goyard or anything made of nylon. Earlier this year I found this super-lightweight Cole Haan crossbody bag (the Alexis bag) and though I'm slightly scared of the light color, I've been using this bag for 2 weeks and I love it. It's got pockets for my phone, keys and metrocard, it looks neat and it leaves my hands/arms free, I know this is going to be my go to bag for a while (*update* - did I spill coffee on my bag as soon as I posted this? Of course I did. Here's an awesome feature, a little hot water on a rag and the bag was back to pristine in under 5 minutes. Miraclebag!). 


My most recent haircut was at a new salon near my apartment. While I didn't particularly love the cut I did love the products they used on my hair. I've seen Moroccan Oil stuff for sale a lot lately but I assumed it was meant for thicker, coarser Moroccan-like hair. Of no good use on my 16 strands hair. Wrong. Not only does everything Moroccan Oil smell phenomenal but it's completely lightweight enough to use on very fine hair and it's great at beating humidity. Whatever your hair-type is, at least give this a sniff, if you don't love the smell you probably eat puppies. 

But truly, my favorite part of this time of year? Lounging on the grass, with a good book, staring out at this:

 

Happy spring everyone!

such a baby for an old lady

I lied. My birthday has been awesome so far (I mean really, look at the card Heather MADE me!) and I have a sneaking suspicion it's only going to get better. And then it'll be over. Whew.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

who's a debbie downer?

I'm so ill prepared for a big fat birthday. I'm just not feeling it. It feels nothing like a celebration and completely like a "Calling Before the Yardstick" ceremony where I bear witness to my lack of accomplishment. 

Married? No.
Children? No. 
Published? No. 
Well surely then I've made great strides in my professional growth and am experiencing an enriching and lucrative career. Ha! No.
A well appointed home that I've poured my non-marital, empty-wombed self into decorating? To the contrary, I think the Con-Ed construction going on right outside my building actually resulted in a tiny mouse skittering across my living room floor last night. At least that's what my dog's sudden crazed behavior indicated. Ah metropolitan living, so high end and pristine. Enviable, really. You're feeling envy reading this, aren't you? 

There are of course a few consolations; Jennifer Aniston for example. She is very hot, very rich and famously single, more so even than me (my mom would violently disagree). If she's having a hard time finding someone to ring and ding her what hope can there possibly be for me? That's right, none (insert awkward ha ha  here). Also, no children means I very very rarely get peed or puked on. Sure, last Friday I was hanging out with my 5 year old friend and sure she leaned in to give me a good-bye kiss and of course in reality blew a raspberry in my mouth, but as a non-mom that just happens a lot less than you'd think it would. Sometimes I spend entire Saturdays or Sunday in pajamas. 

Then again, this could all change. Especially considering I recently learned that David Duchovny lives 9 blocks away from me and I have 4 days off coming. I think I'll get myself a Mulder for my birthday. Or this: 

the one where I'm way too into Friends (part 1)

I'm the sort of person that gets caught up in things/obsessed rather easily. When I realized I loved sweet potato Popchips I wanted them to be the thing I snacked on daily. Luckily though my obsessions have a decent ebb and flow to them, I don't generally get too obsessed for too long.

I used to watch Conan when I got into bed at night. But then Leno ruined everything and now Conan is on too late for before bed watching. So I switched to Sex and the City, but either that too was moved or I just stopped caring if I caught it. All this explains how I rediscovered my adoration for Friends. I forgot how annoying and un-worthy Emily was. How slippery, slimy and cave-manish Paolo was (by the way, if you have any interest in having your mind a little bit blown, click on the Paolo link and see what he looks like now). How Giovanni Ribisi was a random guy with a lost condom (accidentally dropped in Phoebe's guitar case) a few seasons before he became her doofus brother. Mainly I forgot how much I liked the core 6. So it began that every night I'd get into bed about 11pm, flip the cable box over to Nick at Nite and catch an episode or two (they air 4 episodes back to back but 2 usually does it for me) and then fall asleep dreaming of an over-sized gorgeous periwinkle apartment, perfectly smooth hair and endless cups of coffee (that may or may not be "stupid big cups which, I'm sorry, might as well have nipples on them" - according to Phoebe's then boyfriend Roger the shrink a.k.a. Fisher Stevens).

Cut to December. This year, for Hanukkah one of my brothers gave me the boxed set of of the entire series of Friends. Pretty awesome, right? Yeah, I think so too. Well about a week or so ago, all caught up on Shameless I decided to start re-watching Friends beginning to end. I've already barreled through the first season (very easy as the episodes are only about 22 minutes long) and I'm halfway through the second.

Here are some things I've discovered regarding season 1 and part of season 2 on my second go round of Friends:

• Rachel wears an inordinate amount of outfits that involve shorts and tights.
• If Friends were on today, the cast would have to dress soooo much sluttier. These ankle-length skirts and long sleeve t's are cute but they'd never cut it.
• Considering the focal point of the show was Central Perk or Monica's apartment it is Chandler and Joey's apartment that goes through the most incarnations. They have a sofa that comes and goes, a desk that space shifts a lot and an open food pantry (behind the refrigerator door) that goes from overflowing, to pared down, to having doors on it, to completely disappearing.
• The Carol that tells Ross she's pregnant is not the same Carol that delivers their baby.

Also odd, there's a book that comes with the dvd set. It's a full episode guide and it gives you a little back story on the characters. According to the book:

• Ross is Monica's younger brother (even though he's clearly the older one and was 1000% the older one in the flashback prom episode when he was sporting Tom Selleck's 'stache)
• Monica is blue-collar (instead of just barely less spoiled like her Long Island neighbor and schoolmate Rachel), she's also kinda badass. The book describes her as a brash NYer with a personality similar to Rosie O'Donnell or Sandra Bernhard. Uhm... ok.
• Rachel leaves Barry at the alter after getting high with Mindy and realizing she doesn't want to spend her entire life living in Teaneck, New Jersey and because she can't picture Barry without a Mr. Potato head head. Friends ends up being the rare 90's/2000's sitcom where no one ever smokes pot (except for Jon "we gotta make this" Lovitz). Actually, they barely even drank. What a sober bunch of twenty somethings!
• Phoebe is homeless and has a habit of crashing at the place of her one night stands. She has no belongings except for (ready?)... her BIRD and her guitar. Her bird?!
• Joey makes ends meet between acting gigs with his other two jobs. You see, he's also a bike messenger and he's a bouncer at the hottest clubs in the city. You could have fooled me.
• I didn't notice anything especially odd relating to Chandler but given the other surprises maybe I should re-read the book.

It is kinda cool to see how the character's were originally fleshed out, Monica being older would have definitely explained her control freak-ness but her being younger explains that huge Ross shaped chip on her shoulder. I'd like to see Rachel as a pothead and I'm really glad Phoebe didn't have a bird (for 10 seasons!). No doubt I'll have lots more to share with you on this series which has been off the air for 7 years. I like to stay current.

Hey, remember when they looked like this:

diseased

I came down with something sinus-y Sunday. My throat was on fire, burning like I'd spent Saturday licking subway handrails or Duane Reade door handles. I spent Sunday drinking hot minty tea with lemon and honey, gargling with saltwater and speaking as little as possible trying to stave off sickness. Not because I cared about missing work - first of all I get 20 sick days a year and I have almost no work ethic - but rather because I had a massage scheduled for Tuesday afternoon and I really really didn't want to miss that. 

Monday I went to work (stupid, I only ended up feeling shittier), I got home from work and promptly fell asleep, waking up at 8pm to watch How I (endlessly tease you about how I) Met Your Mother. I took cold medicine, had soup for dinner, slapped a breathe-right strip across my nose and went back to sleep. 

Tuesday I woke up feeling the exact same but I was positive a massage would help (because I lack common sense but enjoy indulgences) and I really wanted to just get there. I found two Claritins in my drawer from the last time my sinuses attacked, popped one, took a long hot shower and was actually beginning to feel better (all in my head). I even managed to get there on time, despite being in the worst location Manhattan possesses; Penn Station area. I warned the masseuse that I'd probably have to interrupt our session for a few nose blowings and we were on our way. Hippy-dippy chimes chimed in the background, I was doused in Neutrogena sesame oil and things were going well if not a little greasy. Then I sneezed.

The masseuse decided she'd help alleviate my sinus congestion by massage my face. After pouring oil over it. She spent, no joke, 15 minutes rubbing my cheeks and my nose and then doing this weird butterfly finger thing all over my face. Just as I was noting how weird that was I was also thinking I probably had another 15 minutes left. Suddenly she squeezed my shoulders, announced we were done and disappeared. Uhm, what the hell? How did a 60 minute massage lose 20 minutes? I got dressed feeling really annoyed, as I made my way down the hall to find her and ask what happened I could hear her voice through the wall, she was already getting started in another room. So at best no one at the desk would know why I'd lost 20 minutes and at best they'd offer to have someone else fill in but I'd have to get undressed and start all over just for 20 minutes... I was annoyed and not sure what to do so I left. That definitely wasn't the thing to do because know now I'm just annoyed and I screwed up my chance to have them fix it. What would you have done?

Wednesday I still felt shitty so I stayed home again (remember, 20 sick days). I cleaned up around the apartment and watched Life as We Know It. It was kind of really cute and totally watchable. Normally it seems like Katherine Heigl has a tricky time being watchable. I think it helps that Josh Duhamel was in this (Josh Lucas is too for that matter but eh... Josh Lucas is bland) and both he and the house the movie is shot in, are ridiculously gorgeous. Ok fine, the movie was decent the house was the star, it was house porn, are you happy now? 

Which reminds me of a thought I had while I was in bed last night, watching a few Friends episodes before bed. Remember when Phoebe carried her brother Frank and sister-in-law Alice's triplets? Well that was back in 1998 so the triplets would be nearing 15, for what it's worth I'm dying to see that sitcom. Frank and Alice with their crazed brood (including littlest triplet, the girl named Chandler) and wacky aunt Phoebe. Can anyone make this happen for me? An early birthday present perhaps? 

Today I woke up feeling better than I have in a few days. I got up and showered and went to the kitchen to get coffee when I discovered the dog was now not feeling well. Ah fuck. Well I guess ah crap is more appropriate. I clean that up, get dressed and ready to go when I realize I can't find my glasses. Any. Where. This is not so crazy, I'm awful with my glasses, constantly taking them off and leaving them in whatever room I was just in. I've been surprisingly good about not leaving them anywhere but really I think that's just because I need them to see distances, that's the only reason they're not at a nail salon somewhere. I check the living room where I watched Law & Order: SVU last night. Nope. The kitchen, bathroom, my room again, my closet, in my bed, under my bed, under the sofa, no, no, no, no glasses anywhere. I'm late now, if I don't go I'm going to miss the last bus. I give up, put in my contacts (hate!) and rush out getting to the bus stop just in time to see the last bus pull away. Offuckingcourse. I walk over to the subway because subway and bus through the Bronx is my plan B. I get on the 4, I'm pretty much as pissed off as I can be, the morning could have barely started off worse and at 125th Street a lady gets on, sits next to me and starts literally screaming in my face about how Jesus saved her life. She needs to be punched in the face. 

But what I really want to ask her is does she think he'll save it twice? 

my hot valentine's day date

last night I skipped out on a movie to go to the gym. I gave up sitting (sitting!) in the dark and snacking. Sitting and snacking are the shit folks and they are activities (eh?) at which I greatly excel. I gave that up for fast paced movement, bright lights and sweat. I'm not saying I insist on a reward or anything but if 5 pounds off my ass could be a reward I'd think that was very very fitting especially because the treadmill tvs kinda suck and How I Met Your Mother comes in really dark and I've watched everything in my itunes. Incidentally Touch and The River seem pretty interesting so far but after Lost I think the numbers aspect of Touch might piss me off after awhile.

Are you watching any new shows that have piqued your curiosity so far?

quiet and carrot cake

I've had such a quiet and domestic time of it.

I laundered nearly all my clothes (certainly every last pair underwear and all my gym clothes).

I made Deb's amazing carrot cake with maple cream cheese frosting (it's amazing so I then spent 2 days foisting it on neighbors so I won't actually eat it). The only modifications I made were to reduce the amount of sugar in the cake by half a cup, to swap nutmeg for cloves (out of nutmeg and didn't feel like going back out) and to make less frosting than the recipe yields (having made it last year and being left with a ton of delicious frosting was a challenge I chose not to revisit on myself - damn that frosting is delicious!) 

Then, since I had about two cups of grated carrots left I made tuna pasta salad to bring to work for the next few days (but no carrot cake because my co-workers; especially the narky one, don't deserve such goodness). I also mixed some carrots into mac & cheese because I find that to be tasty and the colors match up well. Oh, your foods aren't usually color compatible? I don't know how you live. 

I watched One Day, not a good movie at all (and I  knew this, for I'd been warned) yet a fairly good book, go figure. I also watched Our Idiot Brother which was a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be. The saddest part of the weekend was surely when I realized I was totally caught up with Shameless and now I have to wait and watch it as it airs. Like... like... a commoner. I also finished reading a book I didn't care for at all. Everything We Ever Wanted by YA phenom Sara Shepard. This blurb could not have missed the mark more;  

This riveting, provocative and well-crafted family drama surprised and delivered at every turn. I could not put it down.” (Sarah Mlynowski, author...)

I was so able to put it down I left it at work over a weekend, started reading another book forgetting I had this going and then speed/scan read to finish it already. I was not-riveted, reading this tiny little book quickly became kind of a chore to finish, specifically because it was neither provocative, well-crafted or surprising. The surprises in the book? How small the story seemed, how one note the characters were. The big twist/big reveal is so small and unremarkable I kept going back to see if I'd missed something bigger. I'm going to go out on a limb and say this book was mainly published on the strength of her young adult writing/books. There was genuinely no story here, though I could feel that way because I'm coming off of reading a rich and intricate book. 

And now for pure hypocrisy; I think I watched the entire season of Kourtney and Kim Take NY. I'm not proud per se, just accomplished. 

shamelessly obsessed

I'd seen so many billboards, bus ads and commercials that I recently started catching up on last season's episodes of Shameless. Turns out I'm really digging it. It's got William H Macy and Joan Cusack (love them!), the super annoying son from War of the Worlds plays Emmy Rossum's boyfriend, and I like him here, a lot. The rest of the kids, the neighbor couple, I find all of the characters interesting and funny in their own ways and really, after watching nearly all of season one my only question is why does Emmy Rossum look hollow-eyed and jaundiced in every episode? I get that the Gallagher's are poor but she gets dressed up fairly often and hell, they have a washer and dryer, surely she's got a smidgen of concealer hiding around somewhere. If, like me, you find your tv watching suffering a slight dip with the absence of Dexter and Homeland (Homeland: too good for words) I highly recommend catching up on Shameless. 

A few blocks away from my apartment is one of those still rather elusive NYC 7/11's. I constantly forget it's there but the other day I was headed home from ... I don't remember... and I noticed 7/11. Thinking coffee would be nice (and necessary because that's what addiction means) I stopped in and found these!

Sweet Potato Popchips? Yes please! I love regular popchips and I like sweet potatoes, how can this go wrong? It could not go wrong is the answer. They were freaking delicious. The only down side to them was that I'd only bought one bag and it was 12 degrees out. I did what any self respecting adult would do. I took to twitter to whine about my poor purchasing judgement (one bag? just one? did I think the Kremlin would not allow 2 bags?!) and the fact that it was simply too cold to correct my poor purchasing judgement. Well about an hour later Hilary tweets to me that she's got a popchips contest going on her blog and she suggests I enter (it's a very complex system whereby I must leave a comment. I handle the confusion deftly if I do say so myself). So deftly actually that a day or so later I discover... I won! Popchips sent me a carton of their (baked, never fried) deliciousness. Sweet potato, chili lime, bbq, sour cream & onion, regular... all of them! This is naturally incredibly exciting as in all the years I've been alive I've won a box MAC cosmetics, a who-caught-the-biggest-fish contest and now these (not a lot of winning for as many years as I've been alive): 

 

(a carton in a variety of flavors, score!)

taken from here 

Also on my list of obsessions; Sophie Hannah books. Dark, twisty British mysteries are pretty high on my 'favorite kinds of books to read' list. My obsession with Sophie Hannah books has gotten so bad that I've taken to using my Hanukkah amazon.com gift certificate to order her books from their UK site. I just received the most recent books of her two days ago and it took a ridiculous amount of wherewithal to go to work instead of cracking the book open and lying around eating popchips and reading all day (I'm only this stoic because tomorrow is Friday). I'm a big guesser of outcomes, I'm the one you hate seeing movies with because of my compulsive need to deduce what comes next. An impossible thing to do when it comes to Sophie Hannah books, she's thoroughly engaging and completely baffling at the same time. And, to some degree, her characters are often unlikable, it's strange when the author prevents you from empathizing with the protagonist by keeping them at a distance, it's a device that I've found throws me off in a terrific way. It forces me to stop trying to guess the outcome and to just enjoy the story. I don't do that enough. If you like dark & twisty but aren't much of a Britlit fan I'd recommend you check out either of Gillian Flynn's creepily captivating books. You're welcome in advance. 

frosty, liquefied, pedophile. mmm.

my brother ordered dinner from a burger place the other night. He ordered a black & white milkshake to go with it. The receipt that he posted on his facebook page: 

pajama Sunday

how do other people get dressed and do things? It's chilly outside, there's an occasional breeze lifting my blinds. This is my favorite Sunday thing. Bed. Coffee. Book.

Heather O'Rourke would be cool with it

Happy 2012 folks (who are still left checking in despite my laze).

2011 was good only in that I barely hurt myself (no real falls and only one broken toe!) and found beneficial (if not financially gainful) employment. It was also the year I had the luxury of turning down a job offer and telling them exactly why. Circus peanuts is a phrase, it's not an actual salary offer, 'miright?
So I welcome 2012 and I welcome myself back to my blog and I promise that you'll see more of me here.