Way more characters than a Tweeted update.


1. Steve (aka le brother) is moving into my apartment this coming Sunday for 6 weeks. I know! These bum college graduates who majored in Environmental Science! We lit majors weren't allowed to flit around the country tracking wildlife and the ways they migrate. Instead we stroked our lit books sadly and prepared ourselves for long careers of getting someone coffee.

Well, not me. I just left the country and tried my hand at living Le Foreign Life. But you get my gist.

Anyway, I digress. So Steve! In Greenpoint! Woo! I am happy to have reconnecting adult "hey you aren't the little goon I remember!" time with him, yet I am slightly worried about having a 6+ foot male using the same kitchen. I have a vision of going food shopping at Trader Joe's and lugging my items home only to find the fridge is empty 15 minutes later.

That said, hopefully we'll have another cooking video in the works sometime soon...

2. I am leaving for France in 5 days. 1 2 3 4 5. That's it! It's so close that I practically already have jet lag. I have started judging my clean clothes as "this will look beautiful on me in Paris!" and "this is for my shoddy remaining days in NYC."

All I'm saying is I might not be looking my personal best this week.

3. Chris and I went to a Spinning class last Wednesday and we made it out alive, though he needed a post-Spinning EKG on Friday. It turns out he is a very healthy person but did not eat enough before crazy-psycho-biking class. This good news has not, however, prevented me from waking up in the middle of the night and putting my fingers under his nose to make sure he's still breathing. Oh, hypochondria. Sounds like you're still hanging around.

4. Last night I had a crazy dream that I was making an art project for my Mom. I wrapped her head in paper mache and she was so sweet about it. I kept saying "hang on Mom, I just have to find out how to sketch you now!" and she was like "ok, no problem!" So accommodating. Once she mentioned her head was tired, I helped her lay it on the table in front of her while I interviewed the art teacher about how to proceed with my sketch.

I called her this afternoon to tell her.
Me: So then I wrapped your head in paper mache!
Mom: And what, I suffocated?

Me: Uh.. no! I was making you an art project!

Mom: And I suffocated at the end?

Me: NO. You didn't die. I wasn't killing you!

Hypochondria. AHEM.

5. We do something really cool at work every 6 months or so called The Shake-up. This entails a brand new arrangement of the office and where everyone sits. I love such drastic change; it reminds me of rearranging my dorm room in college every so often. I mean, how many possibilities are there for a desk, a bed and a closet, right? MILLIONS.

Anyway, my new office mates are all boys this time and I took a funny picture of our bookshelf. Please guess which two books belong to me. Hint: they do not require a Computer Brain to read.

6. We explored The High Line today, which is a park of sorts on the West side. Essentially, some old train tracks have been redone to become a plant-filled walkway above the road. It was a really nice little walk and halfway through we got some Raspberry Ronnybrook Ice Cream. More photos on Flickr, but here are two of my favorites. In one, you can observe my impressive birthing hips. In the other, I think we finally prove that Wisconsin people attack ice cream cones like they do cheddar. Mystery solved.


No, I will not acknowledge that this is a passing fad.

I am on a health kick. Last week I planned out a new healthy lifestyle in the G train on the way home and it is in full swing. (Having a Moleskin allows me to do this type of subway-planning on a regular basis).

Today I went to a market near work to buy some Good Healthy Lunch. I bought turkey and an avocado and a yogurt from Iceland. Iceland! Pomegranate and Passion Fruit flavor. Yes!

Except, no. No no no no no. The yogurt is thicker than sludge (think Greek yogurt x 500) and the flavors are making my taste buds FREAK out. Not really in a good way. For example, I was subtly trying to eat my yogurt during a meeting and had to stop because I realized I was making crazy sour faces. Awkward.

Also, I joined a gym. CRUNCH! That is the sound my gym makes. I am planning on attending my first Hip Hop class tonight. Watch out, suckas. I will probably be very talented at this.


If you see me rolling into a cocoon, you know what happened.

On Saturday, Chris and I went to see separate movies at the same time. "I'm surrounded by grandmas!" I texted him as I took my seat in Julie & Julia. "I'm surrounded by meatheads," he texted back from District 9.

Today the senior citizen theme continued, as the closest doctor I could find on ZocDoc was a Geriatrics specialist. Was a little age difference really going to make me go to a doctor on the west side? Hell to the no. Geriatrics was fine by me.

It seems I've had an allergic reaction to a CATERPILLAR BITE. I know. What? I know. First Yoga eye, now this. What's next? CUPCAKE ARM?

Two weekends ago I was minding my own business on a park bench (lost in the romantic letters of A Venetian Affair) when I felt something on my neck. I reached up and picked off a little green worm. "Blech," I thought. But then I tried to get over it. Because CATERPILLARS are supposed to be adorable and eat through books and turn into butterflies.

A few minutes later, I felt something at my elbow. One of those big effing ones. With the hair. And a Caterpillar SWAT team. So I bid adieu to the park and finished the book in the comfort of my apartment.

Fast forward ten days and here I am, glands swollen, unmovable fat neck. I have a fat neck, guys. It's not pretty. "Look," I said to Chris the other morning with my hair twisted up into a towel, "my neck is fat. I look like a fat immigrant."

"Where's your babushka?" he said.

To add insult to injury, some other type of insect bit the hell out of my ass the other night while sleeping. So I show up at the Geriatric doctor this afternoon with a fat neck, a caterpillar vampire story, and an ass full of (spider? flea? RAT?) bites.

"Do you itch at all?" the doctor asked. Duh.

So now I have antibiotics. And prescription Ibuprofen. And anti-itch cream.

On an unrelated and also sad note, the bake sale was a total bust. My new friend Lee (who commented on the last post) got a free cupcake as I toted my 900 pastries back to my fridge. I made $5 in 3 hours. That is so much less than minimum wage that it's not even funny. Instead I think I will work on some more prosperous ventures, like writing articles or catsitting. Or, you know, joining a freak show.

Behold, the girl with the caterpillar allergy! WATCH HER ITCH!


$300 Project: Checkpoint

Ah, the $300 Project. Such loftiness, such opportunity... such a hot kitchen in this heat. So far I've made $60.64 (not counting upcoming gigs tomorrow and next weekend) and tomorrow is the day of The Big Bake Sale. I went to Target a few weekends ago to invest in supplies. Here they are:

I'm kind of terrified, actually. What if everyone thinks I'm a loser in a park with cupcakes? What if no one buys a thing and I have to truck 50 brownies and cupcakes and banana bread slices home? What if I get stopped by the cops and reprimanded? I will probably cry, no two ways about it. Sadly, I am an emotional mess under pressure, which is probably why I never did anything truly illegal in my life.

So send some good bake sale vibes in this direction and I will report back how it goes. Hopefully not from behind bars.

Also, my brother is a Project Guy too and he just released a few songs out on MySpace. Check them out here.


Oh! That's exciting!

Well, first things first. Ahoy, readers coming from Matador! Make yourselves at home and help yourselves to some cold water and old magazines. Aw, it's nothing, just trying to be a good host.

Second things second. I had an article published on Matador today. Matador is a Travel Community that has about 8 sites running and my article, called 8 Simple Ways to be a Great Host, is currently up on MatadorLife. Check it out and please do not be intimidated by baking banana bread. Monkeys could do it. Hell, they probably do- when they host their guests!

Public shout-out to Dave, who told me about Matador and Sima, who suggested adding limes and lemons to the ice water. She's classy, that one.

Bring on the books

It might be the lack of time away from the city this summer or the close proximity of the newest NY Public Library branch, but I've been reading up a storm lately. I'm trying to figure out how to create a new page on this site to list books and what I thought of them.

Anyone have a successful experience with this? Should I just use GoodReads and somehow drop in a widget? (Mental judgment: BLAH. BORING). Is there an easy way to add a page in Blogspot?

And most importantly, what have you guys been reading this summer? I need new titles. Please leave good ones in the comments so that my voracious reading brain has food. Special preference goes to awesome fiction based on historical events (which seems to be my favorite, as of late).


Worldwide birthday fun: check.

So I had this idea. I'm a project-y type of gal (NO, REALLY?) and a few months ago, after one of the many evenings entering Chris' building and seeing his gloomy "no mail today" face, I thought "geez. Wish I could get that kid some mail."

And then I started thinking about how cool it would be if everyone I knew all over the world started sending mail to him. But why? And what for? And who's crazy enough to organize that?

Hello my name is organizer.

On Saturday, Chris opened 28 letters that he got from all around the world and we had a birthday adventure. It was seriously the most fun thing I've done in a while, watching him open letters from crazy awesome people that I know. "Ohhhh she's SO great, she lives in Philadelphia and I haven't seen her in, like 5 years, and you would LOVE her..." The comments went on and on.

So, step 1: receive 28 letters. Check.

Step 2: Open the envelopes to see what was inside!

Step 3: Organize the letters on the floor and figure out what they spell.

Step 4: Oh! They spell a website!

Step 5: Go find the geocache in the park.*

Step 6: Movies, then delicious dinner at SushiSamba.

*There was one small hitch in this plan, as someone stole the geocache from the park 4 days before we got there. Jigga what? Yeah, tell me about it. But no fear, as we made a new one and will replace it together and hopefully New Yorkers will stop stealing camoflauged tupperware worth $1.99. Idiots.

This crazy present was possible ONLY because a bunch of fun and awesome people spent a few minutes mailing a letter in an envelope to a guy they don't know in NY. So thanks, humanity. You really rock.

P.S. More photos from our fun day here.


Monday, or ESL day

Frantic IM to Chris a few minutes ago:
Total brain meltdown.
How do you spell tole booth?

And then, minutes later, another mental challenge.
Stache? Stashe??

Google was snarky both times. "Did you mean: toll booth?" "Did you mean: stash?"

Yeah yeah, Google. Get outta here with your italics, know-it-all search results. Jerk.


28 is no kid stuff.

Last night, after watching an episode of 30Rock.
Me: Phew! What time is it?
Chris: It's... 11:15.

Today, after going to a 10:30am movie.
Me: You know, the world really benefits people who get up and moving earlier. We got half price movie tickets for the first showing, and if we went to lunch now we could get the $6.95 buffet special. Not to mention the early bird special at dinner!
Chris: Yes, life is cheaper for grandmas.

Oh Internet, I often want to blog but, as you can see, I've become an old person. My next profile pic will probably be me in a rocking chair. I am old and tired and I love sleeping 8+ hours per night. Sue me.

The other day Kamni did something crazy, like went to Philly on a bus after work and saw an show and then took a 2am train back to NY and then went straight to the Today show to see a band's taping and then slept for one hour and came to work. To which I said, "What, are you 18?!"

I am not made for those kinds of evenings. My Dad is in bed at 9:30pm every night and awake at 5 something every morning. THOSE are the genes I'm fighting here, people!

Instead of some quality writing and some interesting factoids about my comparison shopping at Target and Pathmark this weekend, here is all I can muster: a pretty flower that grew on my fire escape for a few days. It was my impression that Morning Glories should, oh I don't know, hang around for more than two mornings, but hey. Perhaps these are the one-night-stand varieties.

More photos to come soon, including some shots of an Italian parade I found myself walking in with groceries on my way home the other day. See? And you thought life in Brooklyn had turned boring...