Traipsing through the Cherry Blossoms

A return to the site...

2009-04-19T22:12:00.006-04:00

...of the cherry blossoms.
Today I had a 5:00pm co-ed touch football game at Roosevelt Island for one of the 2.5 teams on which I play. Unfortunately, it wasn't my Suze team (that was yesterday at Randall's island - a site of strange buildings and construction sites, one-too-many potholes, one-too-few porter potties, gorgeous turf fields we don't get to play on, crappy rock/glass/bottle cap filled "grass" fields we have to play on, the exciting surprise of an 18-hole putt putt course, and, this week, Cirque du Soleil). But there were our blossoms and the beginning of this blog.

In fact, there were two beginnings at the field today - the cherry blossoms and The World Traveler, back from abroad and in town to see some friends and of course watch his old team play. He's now the resident photographer it seems, shutter happy from an incredible number of countries visited and famous sites seen as his subjects. I bought myself lilacs and Gerbera daisies, red and yellow, to commemorate the occasion.

We won our game (handily as seems to be the pleasant norm these days), I said goodbye to The World Traveler (don't worry he'll be back to my apartment on Tuesday!), and rode back over the East River on the tram, taking in one last glimpse of the cherry blossoms on this Sunday afternoon. While the annual Cherry Blossom festival in D.C. may be over, Suze and my Roosevelt Island inspiration will live on for a least a few more weeks. And, then when the blossoms drop for good this spring, we will just be on to more adventures this summer - me, Suze, the Initials, The World Traveler, and all.

This is what you get when you Google sil + suze

2009-02-07T00:04:00.003-05:00

http://blog.cjanerun.com/2008/06/like-guest-in-my-own-house.html?showComment=1214507400000

Can you believe it?? She even has advertisements on her site, and a real following. Ahh a girl can dream.

Tonight was fabulous though.

Tonight we did sushi and BYOW (bring your own wine, red of course, and barefoot at that. barefoot wine, that is. suze found it for $4.99. we are that classy.) Somehow, coincidentally we're dressed both in striped shirts and very desired, not cheap boots - coach and frye respectively. of course. talk of life and men, and sips of more wine than water, we then head two blocks away (had it been four we weren't going) to see my fav boys from college - one of whom is Frack. Remember him? He still hasn't read the piece about him, which really I suppose would be my bad for not telling him. They go way downtown and we head home b/c, well, we're old. 26 and 25 respectively. Suze passes a guy on the way out (of the dive bar) who smells good. "Smell him, Sil," she says. So I do. Cause that's how we work. And, wow, he does smell good - all Old Spicy, yet with a tinge of sweet, citrus flavor and all sex appeal. In all of his nerddom, that is...
"You do smell good I say. Good job."
"Thanks!" he says, glowing. "You girls should stay and hang."
"We are old," Suze says.
"Well, know any cute single girls who like men that smell good?"
"Oh, yes!" I exclaim. "We met two in the bathroom here. They are 22!
"Bet they're not as funny as you two..."
"Oh no, I say. But we are old and we are taken."

And with that, we were off...to walk six blocks home in the bitter cold, to accost cute Jack Russel Terrier's along the way, to love each other as we depart, to get ready for tomorrow's football games...and to write about it all late as I flip between two old Sex in the City's and muse about our eve.

To come...
Suze + Sil take tumblr into a new site...where up to 600 people may follow our adventures, some even in Australia!

Just for fun

2009-02-04T00:06:00.001-05:00

It's all Greek to me

2009-02-03T23:46:00.004-05:00

A shortened version of this piece was just published on the incredible website offmanhattan.com (to which this blog will soon link to!)

Over the past few months, I’ve become what some might call a Greek groupie. It started shortly before I traveled to Santorini, Mykonos and Athens in September and just won’t subside – dreams of a traditional home overlooking the caldera, beach-hopping on an ATV, and the best grilled chicken I’ve ever had, complete with secret spices. Almost subconsciously in an effort to remember and, if I could be so lucky, recreate the trip I’ve sought out dinner parties with my friend from Athens, have gotten myself invited to Mykonos, and am planning a photo shrine to the trip soon to be mounted on my wall. But, in the end there are only so many times you can watch Mama Mia (four) and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (really, I could get through it just twice) without discovering a real need to find the perfect piece of baklava or imbibe in a refreshing Greek beer. I’ve been jonesing for grilled octopus and blue roofed stucco houses and spinach and cheese pie.

So, for this Manhattanite, what better way to indulge in my romantic fantasies of all things Greek than an afternoon jaunt to Astoria, Queens? And while there may be no beach-going in Astoria in January, here are some of the incredible treasures we found…just five stops from Manhattan on the N train.

My co-worker, a former resident of the area (who I deemed was especially in-the-know; her family name was Kavoluikis before her grandfather changed it) suggested that the best place to begin our expedition was right off the 30th Avenue (Grand Ave) stop. We did just that, the lovely and talented Lauren Matison (co-founder and editor-in-chief of offManhattan.com; I call her LeMat for short) and I, and discovered along the way that the best way to explore Astoria’s warm, welcoming and extremely tasty Greek culture is simply to wander.

First stop – arguably the highlight of the trip judging from my complete and utter inability to stop eating the nine pieces of baklava we bought – Yaya’s Bakery, directly across the street under the elevated subway stop exit. Yaya’s a non-descript little bakery from the outside, inside envelops you in the sticky sweet smells of traditional pastries and rich, hearty scents of freshly baked straight from the wood-burning oven “like they used 100 years ago.” That is what Alexandra (“I’m the niece”) tells us of her aunt’s eight-year old establishment. Any traditional treat you can imagine is here lining the glass case that makes our eyes bulge and stomachs rumble. From galaktobureko (layers of traditional custard crème tucked into phylo dough) to four types of baklava (spanning round snake-like circular twists to two-bite decadence with just the right amount of walnuts and honey) to spanikopita laden with bright green spinach for those who prefer savory, think Lauren and I could have stayed all day. A mix of six mini cheese and spinach pies ($3) and nine small baklava ($3) set us back the same as a venti latte at Starbucks.

We did have to run over to the bank as this typical ‘can’t you pay everything with debit card?’ islander did not have enough for the cash-only goodies. First tip of the day – bring cash. There is a Chase Bank right on 30th Avenue, but for those of us Bank of America patrons, they rook you with a $3.00 charge (paid against all moral objections simply for the desire to buy all things at Yaya’s). Alma Bank wouldn’t even accept my PIN number.

Directly next door to Yaya’s is Opa! Opa! Restaurant, tagline: “Famous Greek since 1969,” boasting everything from homemade pork and lamb souvlaki to dolmadaki (small grape leaves), displayed on picture menus of course. Inside the small eatery, Greek flags adorn the ceiling alongside paintings of each angle of the famed Mykonos windmills and the cook will let you watch him slice lamb of the shank while simultaneously posing for photos.

Needing a (short) break from food, we wander back over to 30th Avenue and first find an Olympiakos fan club, est. 1987. As LeMat and I originally became friends through soccer, and OCFP is the favored futbol team in Athens, this was quite a find! Though seemingly not readily open to the public, definitely worth some additional exploration

As we walked up the bustling street on this Saturday afternoon, passing the Hermes Travel Agency conjured up only thoughts of a dorky Toula Portokalos from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, though there was no handsome Aiden in sight.

And soon we came across a few other hidden gems not to be missed:
Astoria Lock & Safe boasts the “Greek Lock Man” mannequin out front waving the blue and white flag, at the same time welcoming in customers and protecting the joint.

The Athanasiades Cultural Foundation Campana (est 1917), which you’ll find it across the street from the Law Offices of George Hrisikopoulos at 42nd St. and Newton. Founded by environmentalist and humanitarian Costas Athanasiades, the foundation’s philosophy is epitomized in the Percy Bysshe Shelley quotation: “We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts have their roots in Greece.”

While not open on a Saturday afternoon, a Sunday jaunt to one of Astoria’s most popular Green Orthodox churches is certainly in order. Pray on your own, take in a service, or simply have a look around at the high-ceilings and intricate stained glass at the St. Demetroios Cathedral, Greek Hellenic Orthodox on 31st St and 30th Dr.

The place to go (attested to also by my Greek friends) to end the day and take it into night is Cavo Café Lounge (42-18 31st Ave; alterative route is to take the R train to Steinway). The expansive brick-walled chic restaurant cum bar cum lounge cum night club doubles at a hot spot for a romantic dinner as you stare into each others reflections in the numerous gold-rimmed mirrors or a rockin’ evening with friends as you imbibe in only the top-shelf liquor and dance 'til dawn next to the huge outdoor garden (in warmer weather). Open from 5pm – 4am, the dinner menu is full of classic Greek delicacies and photos of Santorini’s famous blue-roofed churches I remember so fondly. Cavo Café Lounge was also the only place we saw offering a Valentine’s Day special, 4-course dinner for $65 per person.

Throughout the glorious day, LeMat and I convinced ourselves that we simply had to bring a part of Astoria home with us – enter Create Your Own Greek-Themed Party. With meats from Akropolis Meat Market on 30th Ave (heck, the meat is so fresh skinned piglets even hang in the window if that tickles your fancy) and octopus from Best of the Sea fishmonger, the protein appetizers are covered. Unless, of course you opt for my style, which means being unable to resist the sheer hilarity of poulpe en sauce á l’ ail (octopus in garlic flavor in a tin in a box with a painting of the motherland!) This brilliant find is available at Greek House Food (32-20 30th Ave) where you should also pick up a pound of Easter egg-colored hard-shelled candied almonds (also found in Italian and French bakeries; $7.00/lb). For fresh produce for those party crudités, a great place is Elliniki Agora Fruit & Vegetables, a stand half outside just like the place we went for fresh fruit each afternoon post-beach day in Mykonos.

To serve it all, and likely to find all sorts of other desirable goods and goodies, Euro Market (next to the St. Demetroios Cathedral) is your one-stop shop. For my party, guests will drink all beverages from blue and white striped espresso mugs and saucers that say “Yasou!” (“God Saves” on the sides. European country flags fly from the ceilings, but the Greek’s blue and white cross definitely dominates the décor as traditional Greek music kept us dancing down the isles on the hunt for our Greek beer (Mythos is the way to go) and boxes upon boxes of frozen phylo dough.

My party is planned, the imaginary table is set, and the festivities will be upcoming soon, possibly on March 25th, The Greek National Anniversary, if I can wait that long amidst my dreams of Greece.

Frack. (forgive the length but hope you enjoy)

2009-01-02T19:59:00.004-05:00

His list of injuries reads like the daily log of a hospital's accident room. Soft tissue damage and contusions to both thumbs from getting caught in a beaver trap. Severed tip of frozen left index finger in metal barn door. Corneal abrasion from wild rose bush while pheasant hunting. Track career ending osteitis pubis, inflammation of the pubic bone (“I essentially busted my junk,” he says.) Lacerations to left hand from sharpening a machete. Chipped right front tooth on shot glass after playing pond hockey in Arboretum.

“It’s gotta suck to be Matt Frackelton,” I think reviewing my notes on his “character building” incidents of the last few years. But to Matt it would suck to be anything else.

“Frack,” as Matt is called by his many friends and admirers, has been foolhardy and fearless since he was just a tyke growing up Skaneateles, New York. In this upstate New York town people ride snowmobiles and motorcycles to school. It is a place where high school physics teachers skip school to go duck hunting with former students home on winter break. It is a place where the majority of the two thousand sixteen residents own at least one gun and at least one animal that isn’t supposed to be a pet, and a class haircut is the mullet. In Skaneateles everyone knows how to pluck a goose and everyone knows everyone else within the 1.4 square mile town.

“I was lucky enough to be raised white trash,” he says.

In the Frackelton household the traditional birth names have always been disregarded in favor of nicknames like his, Woodchuck, Roadhead, Mammy and Beast. Beast is Frack’s little brother. Not until he started kindergarten this year was Beast called by his given name, Ian. Beast is a miniature Frack-in-training, though Frack claims Beast is going to be even more bad-ass than he is. Beast caught his first fish when he was one, beating Frack by a year. Beast tackled and threw a chokehold on a doe when he was two. Frack has yet to wrestle a deer and when he does he will be in full camouflage when he sees the deer’s backside peeking out from behind a tree. Resisting the urge to shoot it, he will shimmy through the mud on his belly, get behind the deer, grab its legs and watch it tumble to the ground in a helpless heap. The mission will leave him with ripped pants, skinned knees and a bump on his head from the deer’s flailing hooves. How is this fun? To Frack, how is it not?

Tackling deer, fishing and snowmobiling are just filler for the nine months of the year Frack spends waiting for the three months when he can put to use his thousands of decoys and duck calls and hunt ducks. He lives for duck season. Frack estimates that about sixty percent of his income from working as a student athletic trainer at Connecticut College (plus whatever loose change he finds buried in people’s couches) supports his duck hunting exploits. The other thirty percent of his income goes to Chinese food and beer.

Last winter break he got his former high school physics teacher to play hooky so they could go duck hunting at 4 a.m. on a –14 degrees day. The ducks were flying that morning, and their calls and decoys were working so well getting the geese to circle close to them, they each had good targets. 3-2-1, pow pow, and two ducks plopped into the icy waters. The wind changed quickly pushing their duck decoys and kill to the center of the lake. With no dog or boat to go pick them up, Frack decided, naturally, that he should swim for them. The water was so cold the second his body touched it his muscles seized up. His lungs began to freeze and he gasped for air. He knew he had better get out of the lake fast and had to abandon a few of the decoys. When he got out he tried to do a handstand to drain the water from his boots but he couldn’t use his hands.

“They were kind of like claws,” Frack recalls. “And the outer layer of my clothes froze solid, but I didn’t want to quit. The ducks were flying.”

The ducks always fly for Frack. He has stopped playing in the middle of a soccer game to mimic the calls of a flock of low flying geese overhead. When his teammates yelled at him to chase after a ball that whizzed by his oblivious head Frack ignored them. Another day he spent from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. in an ice-filled lake, dressed in white snow camouflage submerged to his chest. So frost bitten were his hands, they bled.
“That was a great day,” he recalls. “Let’s see, there was bufflehead, gadwall, widgeon…” he says listing the different types of ducks he shot that day. “I’ve never gotten any of those before in my life. It was awesome.”

Connecticut College seems like the last place you that would ever find Matt Frackelton. He has separated himself somewhat from the hunter, working class norm in Skaneateles by venturing to a small prestigious liberal arts college. During his college search his high school guidance counselor had recommended he look at Conn because of its quality environmental studies program. In high school Frack competed in the Envirathon, a competition that tested students on current environmental issues, soils, wildlife, aquatics and forestry, and in four years led his team to two state and three regional championships. He also won a $3,000 scholarship at the New York State Environmental Challenge, a televised individual environmental jeopardy-like competition. But ultimately Frack decided Conn was the place when he discovered he could fish within 200 yards of his dorm room.

“What is really lost on Frack is that not too long ago this was a women’s socialite college,” says Dale, one of his bosses in the training room. “The girls here wore white gloves and had cotillion with the Coast Guard. Don’t you wonder what Mary Harkness would think about Frack? I think she’d roll over in her grave.”

“One night stands out as one of my best, earliest memories of Frack,” his friend Allen recalls. “There was a pizza box lying half open in the trash can outside his dorm room. The box had a crusty-looking week old piece of nasty pizza in it. Frack looked at the box, goes ‘Ahh pizza!” and just went and took a big old bite.”

“That’s nothing,” Frack interjects. “Another time there were two snack packs of pudding next to the trash can. I like pudding. I picked one of them up and it had an off white tinge to it with a sort of hard core in the center. I had to squeeze the cup to get it out and when it did it came out all slowly like a tube of play dough. I tasted the pudding and the bite I took looked like a surfboard does after a shark has gotten to it. It was kinda gross, but I’ve gotten a lot of good food from the trash.”

He considers another encounter with spoiled food one of his proudest moments at Conn. It was late February and he had a box of oranges that someone had been sent as a gift for Christmas rotting away on his floor. The tops were brown and squishy and the sticky bottom ooze had cemented the box to the floor. For the previous few weeks Frack and the boys had been pelting girls in their towels on their way to shower with the rotted fruit until the girls retaliated by smearing banana all over the boys’ doors. One night when they were bored, Frack’s buddies dared him to eat one of the decomposing oranges.

“I will die before I back down from a challenge,” Frack says.

He peeled away the soggy, once orange colored skin to reveal small white pustules on the fruit. It probably won’t hurt me he thought as he bit into it. His buddies couldn’t stomach it as they watched Frack gagging, his body telling him this was not a good idea. They ran to the bathroom and threw up. Frack, deciding not to prolong the ordeal, chucked what was left of the orange up in the air and “T-Rexed it,” catching it with in his teeth and devouring it before his stomach could argue any more with his head. Frack held it down and he smiled.

One warm night last year he and his buddies, dressed nicely, were walking back across campus following a fancy dinner with his friends’ parents. In warm weather skunks are a common site on campus, and on this night Frack and the boys encountered two large skunks searching for food in an open garbage can. Frack had wanted to catch a skunk ever since he read two years before in one of the many hunting magazines to which he subscribes that if you get behind a skunk without its knowledge and grab it by the tail, there is a 90% chance it will not spray you. While his friends watched—shaking their heads, but not surprised as this was Frackelton and this is what he does—Frack quietly climbed on top of the trash can, crouched over the skunk and grabbed its tail jacking it up into the air. He stood upright on the can, skunk in hand as though he were an Olympic medallist standing on a podium waving his medal. His face beamed with pride until he realized he had a skunk in his hand, and shit what was he going to do with it now. The second he puts it down that thing is going to spray like the fire hydrants do when the neighborhood kids pry them open on those hot, steamy summer days in the city. So Frack put the skunk down, and ran like the wind.

Frack is now over the skunk-tormenting phase which is good because he’s not supposed to be running. Since re-inflaming his junk, Frack has been told by the athletic trainers that he can’t play soccer (he’s co-captain of the Conn College club soccer team) or run for two months. He said he’d give it one week. In place of running he has decided to attack the rowing machine in the gym. On Tuesday and Thursday mornings he can be found huffing, puffing, grunting and growling at the unworthy piece of equipment. It won’t allow him to go as fast or as far as he wants. At least three times per week he goes down to the fitness center to do a Navy Seals workout. It consists of doing sets of pull-ups, then doubling that number of reps with push-ups until his arms feel as though someone has tied hundred pound bricks to them. He repeats the circuit two more times because as Winston Churchill said, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

Shirtless with only the upper part of his faded overalls covering his chiseled torso and wearing a green camouflage trucker hat with “I’d rather be hunting” printed in orange cocked to one side, last Saturday night Frack looked he had come to the dance in Cro straight from the trailer park or the demolition derby. He smiled a crooked, buck-toothed smile as he came to say hello. Sucking at his fake teeth so as not to drool down his chin, he said something garbled, I think asking how my night had been so far. His had been great. As a tribute to the “Hick-nic,” a day last fall when he and his boys backed their pick-up trucks into the Fishbowl grassy area between the Hamilton and Marshall dorms on campus, blasted country music with lyrics like “I had a barbecued stain on my white T-shirt,” and deep fried a turkey, Snickers bars and anything else that could be even remotely edible coated in a thick layer of bubbling hot grease, a bunch of them had spent the evening pounding Natty Light beer, shooting back Dubra vodka and reminiscing. Hick night had been an unqualified success. Now if he could only find a girl with whom he could later “exchange massages,” the end of the night might rival the events of the previous four hours. “The hick teeth are hot, right?” he asked. “What girl wouldn’t want to make out?”

Frack is the kind of guy who organizes skate-less pond hockey games on the semi-frozen, snow covered Arboretum pond where everyone is welcome. He is the kind of guy that threatens to beat the piss out of any dumb boy that messes with his close female friends. He is the kind of guy who re-injures his groin (for the fourth time) and bruises his elbow sliding into a metal goal post during an intramural broomball game wearing a Duffman costume. He is the kind of guy that every girl would want if they knew what they were looking for.

Beneath the masochistic, hunting-anything-that-moves, no-shame Frack lies the sensitive Matt, a guy who would be happy simply giving the massages. When he started seeing a girl and stayed the night in her room, he intentionally woke up early the next morning to cook her breakfast in bed. In the refrigerator he found nothing but peanut butter and mayonnaise, and though he could surely combine those two ingredients to make a killer post-workout protein shake, that would not do for his new girl. He threw on her flip flops and a squeezed into a pair of her shorts—both a few sizes too small—and ran clopping and constricted to Harris, a few empty plastic bags in hand. There he loaded the bags with bagels and English muffins, scrambled eggs and ham, pancakes and fruit. Back at the house he toasted and re-heated the food, then took it all up to her room with just a few minutes to spare before the alarm went off. On the tray with the food was a cup that held a single wild flower, breakfast in bed a-la-Frack.

There are girls at Conn Frack enjoys spending time with, but he hasn’t found a soul mate. Perhaps, he thinks to himself, he’s not committed because he is only 21 and still in college, or perhaps there are no girls at Conn that could love the unrefined Skaneateles side of Frack. Such a girl would have loved the fifteen year old-Frack, sans license and car. She would have picked him up in her car and let him take her to Kentucky Fried Chicken and then sat good-naturedly in the car and watched Frack press his face up against the glass of the just closed KFC yelling “Nooooooo!” until the night manager came out with a free bucket of dark meat, scraps otherwise destined for the dumpster. A Frack soul mate would then have agreed to a second date to Old Country Buffet. It takes a different breed from the average Conn girl, most likely a special farm girl he’s decided, a girl who will accept Frack consistently putting life and limb on the line and a girl who will let him name their kids Yone, Poder and Torkel.
“Really though,” he says. “I can be happy as long as I’m somewhere with enough water for the ducks.”

But before Frack’s simple plans for settling down, he has graduating, partying and adventure on his agenda. In three months, and hopefully injury free, he will enjoy a full week of senior debauchery. Next is NBC’s reality show Fear Factor. He already has the application. All he needs are his two buddies to be there with him on set, to call him a pussy and tell him he can’t do it. Then there’s no way this guy, who can’t resist a dare, wouldn’t win. Soon Fear Factor will become Frack Factor where Frack will be like the American Gladiators and challengers will try to eat more worms that he can in sixty seconds or jump from a higher cliff into a lagoon than he does. They will all lose.

Tonight Frack sits spread eagle on the floor of the gym watching his club soccer team finish practice without him. To quell the osteitis pubis pain, he holds two big bags of ice on either side of his man hood hoping not to freeze it too small. His stomach aches from downing Harris orange chicken and a meatball sub just before he came to play soccer. The pink sweatband on his forehead is drenched and his face is bright red from having played ten times harder than anyone else this night. His ankle is still sore from being kicked by a drunken girl in stilettos a few weeks back at a TNE dance. It is as if God mistook Frack for a cat and blessed him with nine lives. There is no one who does stupider things and survives.

He laughs when he hears this. “I know,” he says. “How lucky am I?”

A return to writing...and some interesting inspiration to follow

2009-01-02T19:15:00.007-05:00

Someone who knows me very well told me the other day that he thought writing was easy. "Yea, its easy," he said. "I just don't like to do it cause it takes a long time and is so much like doing actual work," this when referring to posting on his blog. It made me think about my writing...mostly the lack there of the past few months. Sure, the holidays and holiday parties and shopping for festive holiday party attire (and shopping for gifts of course) have gotten in the way, which is my excuse. But in the end, writing is not easy for me. Sure words may come easily each time I write but there is so much pressure to put all those words together into something coherent that flows. I mean, it has to be readable; somewhat well-liked by anyone else that might possibly read it (or even find our blog); funny, or at least a little witty; smartly done; moderately interesting; just plain good. Or at least I think it should. Now all of that in one piece is hard to come by I'd say. But, here I am writing again, for the record not as a New Year's resolution, because how many people actually keep those, but because:
1. The more I write, maybe the easier it will become? (Well, it's worth a shot.)
and,
2. I recently met the sister of a great friend of mine from college (we met on New Year's Eve, no less), and this friend had been the inspiration for a piece I wrote for my favorite writing professor back then, Blanche Boyd, a brilliant narrative non-fiction writer who was understandably extremely hard to impress. The time I actually caught her attention was when I profiled this friend, who is unique, to say the least.

And, I've been thinking about that for the past two days, ever since I promised to email the story to the sister. So, what better way to recommit myself to not being too scared or too intimidated or too lazy in the eye of the challenge of writing, than to re-read that profile, that I had such a good time composing, and remember just why I actually love to do something that is so hard. Thanks again, Frack. You are the subject of an off-and-on writer's dreams.

Fall

2008-09-29T11:03:00.003-04:00

A perfect fall weekend

my first of this year

rainy, but beautiful

spent Friday enjoying a delicious dinner

I didn't have to cook (even better)

A Saturday sleep in

Coffee, bacon, scrambled eggs with peppers and onions

another delicious meal, not made by me

(how lucky am I)

Off to a football game - ugly weather, bright t-shirts

glad to be back, one week off is just too much

Back garden for beers, flip cup, mini-burgers

great catch up

A buddy walk across the street

more games, more laughs, how lucky am I

Home to bed

Another rainy morning sleep in

Another delicious breakfast ( i made the bacon)

Friends over

beer, chicken wings and so much fun

another perfect weekend

even though beach mornings are nowhere to be found.

My weekend in review

2008-08-28T11:03:00.004-04:00

A little late, but better then never!

Its already feeling a bit like fall

so we packed our sweatshirts

well EBJ did - he always remembers those things

and off we went - amazing catch up dinner at John Scotts

with lobster rolls, too big steak samiches, mussels and wings

what are we going to do without those mussels all winter!

a few landsharks

then home for a pillow fight (becoming quite the tradition)

i lost.

terribly.

almost lost an eye too, but it was still in when I woke up, EBJ is a lucky guy

Saturday morning - a sad visit

but one I have wanted to do with him.

Took EBJ to see Tommy - hydrangeas and Celtic cross, a swordfish

a great wind came through the trees just as I got really really sad

Another visit from him - usually in the form of sea glass,

most recently an amazing dream, of patagonia and tears.

but I'll take what I can.

Glad EBJ was there - they would have gotten along so well.

Said our goodbyes - hate leaving that place (weird I know)

off to the beach - Tommy's favorite place

a day spent at the annual family races - not too many 20-29 year olds willing to swim

so we did, and I lost my bathing suit bottoms

quite a view for the parents and children - a coppertone bottom

after trophys, should always come margaritas on the beach

then a race to pick up dinner

in the form of littlenecks (or maybe steamers), mussels, shrimp, corn, potatoes, sausages

oh and harvey.

a one-pot clambake

on a perfect evening

sea water

new friends (EBJ makes them everywhere he goes, I get to be along for the ride)

feet in the sand, just cooked mussels - perfectly cooked littlenecks

then Harvey.

the perfect shade of red, fresh local corn from the boy (an architect you know)

long talks, cold landsharks, perfect dinner.

our one pot clambake for two.

Sunday, another amazing night of sleep (no pillow fight, eyes intact)

red with a white dot ocean

EBJ surfed, I took photos, of him.

of me.

of little shell armies.

our surfboards got hammocks

we got landsharks (and mussels, and wings and a kohog- weird name, delcious food)

sunkissed, with just the right amount of margarita, we headed back to the city.

it may feel like fall, but summer is far from over.

The nights don't justify you

2008-08-26T13:57:00.004-04:00

I am soon to be turning 25+1.

In lieu of a real live blog post with details, my wish list (big, grand, huge wishes) is below.

I have already received some of the best birthday gifts imaginable, thoughtful, amazingly wonderful presents from Sil and EBJ - but here is some fun fun fun stuff.

Disclaimer...this is just the beginning

Fabulous shoes with bows from JCrew

For Like Ever poster from Village Products

Monogram bracelet from The Palm Gifts

Card from Curly Girl Designs

Dying for these boots - no idea who makes (made) them!

Just so sweet - pancake maker - Cox & Co.

Dreaming of Greece...

2008-08-24T22:59:00.004-04:00

I’ve really wanted to write (well, blog) for a while now but the conditions just haven’t been quite right. You know how it is sometimes…too tired from too many runs; too much round the clock Olympics to watch on TV; hands too sore from my newest sporting venture, handball; its too hot; its too cold (okay, that’s just a lame excuse as it’s been really hot this summer), but now I’m feeling juuuusssst right. I spent the day wandering from the east side to the west side – then from maneuvering through the hordes of people at Apple store on Fifth Avenue to a free facial at Columbus Circle’s Aveda and Whole Food Sushi. I checked out the runners around Central Park, the couples picnicking and crews sunbathing in between Frisbee tosses in Sheep’s Meadow, and the breakers competing with the crazy old school disco roller skaters. Then I napped and went to an awesome hour and a half yoga class, ate sushi, veggie dumplings and way too much wasabi, and then I flipped on the TV. It was a pretty lovely Sunday already. And then, what to my wondering eyes did appear on the television… my BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING! On TBS, of course. I forgot how much this movie makes me laugh.

A perfect setting for writing and interlude to my post, the one I promised you a month ago about planning my trip to Greece. I think I also promised to write my review of Mamma Mia! In a word, hilariously brilliant. Okay, two words. Not knowing I was ever a fan of Abba, but loving Meryl Streep, Colin Firth, and Thomas Crown, I deemed it a hit. Maybe more importantly were the simply breathtaking backdrops of the Greek Isles.(www.mammamiamovie.com)Did you know that on August 29th, there are sing-along versions being released in select theaters?? Awesome. Suze and Sil outing this fall?

Earlier this month, I may have gone to see Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 – the whole last part of it is set in Santorini! We’ll pretend that’s the only reason why (and as such, it doesn’t need a link to the movie homepage). It was research, of course. So, it’s been a Greek movie-filled summer. What better way to psych myself up for this trip (now just 11 days away)? Not that I need any help getting excited. And then Suze writing about her incredible Athens Olympics experience four years ago just fit in so nicely with the Greek theme of the month.

So the planning has gone something like this:
- Sil purchases Priceline ticket on Delta nonstop from JFK to Athens
- Sil invites good friends E and Nik (he’s the Greek one) over for a Sil-cooked special dinner and lots of wine and treats so that Nik will tell her anything and everything to do in Greece, and most importantly, the best ways to get there
- After the educational tipsy dinner, Sil emails C* to tell him all the wondrous things to come (and I may have even used that slightly nerdy word)

*Is this the first mention of C? I think it just might be. C is the one I’ll (back to the first person here) be taking this adventure with…well to go see. Remember how Suze and I wrote in our “about us” that we started this blog right when our good friend had gone off to see the world and we were looking for adventures we knew were right around us. We’ll that ‘good friend’ is more than just a friend, to me that is. Suze has her EBJ of course. I will be meeting C in Santorini on September 4th (that’s 11 days from now, just in case you’re counting now too).

He also gets special mention here as he’s another reason I finally sat down to blog. I got an email tonight that said, among many other good things, that he had read SandSBlossominNY in its entirety (every post) before he went to bed (in Sorrento, Italy).

So, fast forward ahead to a few days ago (because I am getting tired and do still owe him a before bed email so he’ll get it as a good morning one)…

And we have the following totally in place:
- A stay in Santorini at this classic family-owned villa overlooking the famous Caldera (volcano) where they host you each night for cocktails and mezedes (appetizers) on the terrace each night for a sunset party! (http://www.lithies.com/index.html - House Zephyr
- A stay in Mykonos at a gorgeous, ‘luxury’ apartment. The name is the best The Warm Yellow Apartment on Kounoupas Hill (http://www.xydakis.com/luxury-apartments-mykonos.html)
- And for our last night, this one in, Athens possibly a Nik recommended Fresh Hotel (ttp://freshhotel.gr)*
*I have yet to figure out how to actually make the "insert link" command on Blogger work...

Of course I have become email friends with Anita who manages the villas in Santorini and she’s suggested five days of adventures including a boat trip to the thermal springs, a hike to the volcano, walking in and around the shops of Fira and Oia, snorkeling (to be C’s first time!) and dinners at these locally run tavernas and restaurants where the calamari is fresh and the octopus even fresher. A steak dinner (yes, it’s a special request) may be thrown in there somewhere to celebrate C’s belated birthday, trips to the beaches in both places and a scooter/ATV ride or two, not to mention everything unexpected to come that you simply cannot plan, or plan for. That may even be the best part, aside from the company and sunsets that it. Sounds pretty magical to me, and I’ve had to remind myself more than once that this is actually happening (in 11 days), and it’s not in fact just another Greek movie.

This is happiness.

2008-08-12T16:32:00.004-04:00

I got a surprise this weekend - one that I can't post photos of because we forgot to take any without us in them...

but the surprise was amazing, and awesome, and thoughtful and wonderful.

it was an early birthday present from EBJ and it begins with an S and rhymes with Smurf Gourd

3 months ago he decided he wanted a surfboard

and 3 months ago I put him in touch with my buddy who shapes custom boards

all summer he has been planning his board

downloading programs to do renderings and deciding what went where

he chose the NYC subway system, a dive flag, Australia and the Yankees emblem

somehow, because he is EBJ he made it all work together

3 months ago he also decided to take a chance

well technically I would guess he took that chance a few months before that, but still

he took a gamble, one I think we both knew would work out in his favor

that Saturday August 9th would be a good day to give a girl a birthday present (1 month and 1 day early)

so 3 months ago he started planning a surprise to end all surprises

(i dont even think i need a surprise party this was so good)

he thought about my favorite things

and planned and planned and designed

never acting secretive

and never letting on

so on Saturday we woke up

he was giddy with excitement, but I didnt suspect a thing,

partially because I knew he was excited about his own board that was coming

and partially because I was coughing up a lung.

slight detour to the walk in clinic - meds, breakfast and cure-all iced tea

a suburban and 2 kiddos in the backseat

we were off to pick up his board

and it was beautiful - he had designed it perfectly and it was shaped perfectly and oh man thats gorgeous and oh wait where did you go?

and then i followed into the work room, to 'see the shaping' or something like that and then there was the most beautiful surfboard in the whole wide world

and then i didn't get it

and then i didn't get it again

and then i looked at EBJ

and then i looked at him again

and then i knew the most beautiful surfboard in the whole wide world was for me.

and it has the Montauk Lighthouse on it, surrounded by cherry blossoms and its my birthday present.

and then we spent the weekend looking at our beautiful surfboards and talking about adventures to come.

and if the past 9 (yes i know how many) months are any indication - I can't wait.

8.8.08

2008-08-08T12:24:00.002-04:00

4 years ago this week I was in Greece.

well technically i had been there for a few weeks already, having arrived at 5am local time, after some ridiculous number of travel hours. I took a cab in the dark to a little apartment on a street I couldn't pronounce to meet my new roommates - E & Z. I asked for pancakes, they laughed. I didn't get it.

We went to the office - taking a cab that first day as I didn't yet have my credentials and the media bus was off limits.

I met new people, saw friends I hadn't seen in 2 years. I caught up.

I explored in a jumpy and learned to say 'My little watermelon' in Greek

I slept on long drives to the rowing venue and ran screaming with joy into the ocean that first day

I was surprised by the history, and in total awe of what was right there around me.

4 years ago I had spent the last 2 months caring for my cousins as their father, my favorite uncle, passed away.

I walked through the stadium empty, after convincing a security guard we were supposed to be there - and got to see practice for the opening ceremonies

I met celebrities - but was far more impressed with the athletes

I watched world records be smashed

saw controversy unfold

ate flaming sausages off a sword at a roof top restaurant

i traded pins, ate popcorn and did cartwheels through the hallway

I drove the length of the marathon, ate octopus off a clothesline

I met a woman named Tula, ate cheese pies and orange juice in her kitchen over looking the sea

i did shots with basketball players, walked home in the late night heat of Athens

i watched fireworks over the city in the middle of the street, unwilling to leave for my plane.

a million other things happened - the Olympics are magic like that

happy 8.8.08

Travels with Sil

2008-07-20T23:22:00.002-04:00

Here I am in another airport, which, if I calculate it correctly, by the end of this trip on Wednesday, will make nineteen airport visits in one month (and two days).

NY LGA
Denver
Aspen

Aspen
Denver
NY LGA

NY LGA
Miami
Grand Cayman

Grand Cayman
Charlotte
Washington, D.C.

Washington, D.C.
NY LGA

NY LGA
Denver
Hayden – Steamboat Springs
Denver
NY LGA

Good thing the Denver airport has free Wi-Fi, that is if you can find a place to sit quietly and use it among the throngs of travelers lost in the massive, circus tent-like structure with the trams that transport you from terminal to terminal packed as tight as the New York City downtown 6 train during the morning rush hour.

I know I’ve been slacking on the blogging (slacking = nonexistent for about one month and six days or so, and I’ve apologized profusely to Suze. (**Here’s an editor’s note for you – this blog post began on Sunday, July 13th and will now finish, not quite as done as it could be, tonight on Sunday, July 20th.) Think the editor’s note is quite an adept illustration of my life in current days…

The blogging slowdown was mostly affected by my travel-for-work escapades, capped off by a fabulously relaxing, no technology allowed beach weekend with Suze, but then, almost as soon as I was back in the big city, I was gone again, off to Colorado for a week of exasperatingly hard meetings. I have a very cool job. Very cool. We work a lot but we play, too, and most excitingly, we travel to incredible places. Whether it’s a five-star hotel or a ski resort from the Caribbean to the mountains, I’ll almost always come back from a work trip having a funny story or a bruise from snowboarding or lungs full of fresh air or a tan, and for all the hours put in being “on-call” in a crisis situation or crafting an incredible media event or magazine placement, it is worth it. This week, for example, consisted of visiting three resorts in Colorado for our familiarization trips there to meet the new clients and learn what makes them all unique, and no, familiarization is not in quotes. It really is integral in our business, which usually does make for fun.

But sometimes, like this week, it is just plain hard with non-stop meetings from 8am-midnight, with zero BlackBerry breaks. I kid you not. The horror. Not to mention having to prove to new clients at each place following long drives between resorts and why you 1. really are great, 2. really do do kick ass work, and 3. really are not all that young. Well, yes, in years you may be especially since, at 24, you’re the youngest of the bunch by far and you do exude a healthy youthful glow, but hell, you give a damn good “this is why we rock” presentation. (Editor’s note #2 – this part was clearly written this evening following the week o’meetings and making “good use of time” – the new client’s catch phrase, and kissing the ground when I arrived back at LaGuardia.)

So, that’s why they call it “work.”

Following this week I definitely needed a real weekend and a slight break from the laptop, and jeez, a stiff shot of gin or something. As Suze knows, I typically stay far from the drink that tastes like Christmas trees. I’ll take my tree decorated with twinkle lights and sparkly balls (the ornament kind) not in my libations to shake off a tough week, thank you.

So, in the interim, and because I don’t have any gin in the apartment, I needed to provide myself a slight reprieve and at least offer up a good excuse for my falling off. I know we have one faithful reader (she knows who she is and makes a mean glass of sangria of which I am feeling the effects tonight as I finish this up). And so this post was born, if for no one else, but me, her, and my adventurous, blogging partner in crime.

Here’s the other reason for the blogging slowdown…and I’ve been struggling with whether or not I was ready to open up to the blog – or to all of its three readers. Often times the best writing comes when you’re sad or mad or overly introspective and pensive – and I must say some of my best blogging here on Traipsing Through Cherry Blossoms came just then – during the month I had all of these crazy, strange unfamiliar feelings welled up inside of me and the way I choose to deal with it – having as many exciting NYC adventures as possible, with Suze, and when not with her, living vicariously through her (even the paintballing!) When we weren’t shaking the cherry blossoms off the trees or ferrying it up to Staten Island Yankees games or biking through traffic or turning coffee, day-old cookies and an upper east side discovery walk into a highlighted weekend event, May was a month for me and my laptop. And my laptop and this blog took the sadness I was feeling, especially at bedtime, and turned it into something (somewhat) soothing and occasionally, just a bit humorous.

The sadness started to drift away in June and now in July, things are as anti-sad as they could be in that realm…however, that does not give me an excuse for not writing as we move into the dog days of summer. There are a few adventures upcoming, and only one work trip on the docket for August, which as luck would have it takes me to the homeland - Boston!

I even have the next blog all set and crafting in the mind has begun: A bit about Mamma Mia! Also known as Dancing Queen or Gimme, Gimme, Gimme a Man After Midnight. OR Sil plans a (non-work) trip to Greece…

It's still rock and roll to me

2008-07-17T11:06:00.001-04:00

Gorgeous night. Billy Joel. Shea Stadium. Best. Concert. Ever.

Her light explodes in the air..pieces go everywhere

2008-07-07T12:04:00.005-04:00

Woke up early Thursday - too much excitement for a long weekend at the beach

took an entirely too crowded train - full of complaints, but we had seats - no complaints from us

straight to the deli - snackerdoos of potato salad and mac and cheese

then to the beach - a walk to the jetty, a decision that seersucker was needed

1 jacket left - perfect fit

off to the big house - chicken, and rice, a salad with new dressing - but change isn't bad

delicious in fact

long talk, with cold beer on the porch with fairy lights

quiet sleep.

too early wake up - promises to a kid who thinks breakfast is at 8am

but worth it to be up

bacon and eggs, sausage and cheese and a big daddy breakfast with lettuce and tomato too

gave me all the extra black pepper

trip to the surf shop

wet suits and camo flip flops

coolest wet suits ever. coolest camo flip flops ever too

new pink polo, ice cream, camo pj pants - no those are leggings!

coolest looking 10 year old at camp soon.

to the beach. football in the ocean

elbows first!

keep away and so many giggles

shandys (an oceanside tradition now)

off to another BBQ

ham this time - really changing it up

Red, white and blue (or pink, white and blue)

seersucker suit - handsome as always

To the bar for a landshark and a water view

She's got fireworks in her eyes.

another early night - but worth it for the rest

Saturday sleep in - no one is allowed to wake us up

off to the beach for breakfast

i got the extra black pepper again

then a drive to the inlet

watched the boats - wondered if the fish were worth the cost of gas

does that mean we are adults?

i feel like that is an adult thought to have

then off to another waterfront bar - drinking at 1 is not a very adult activity

mojitos and oysters and laughing at drunk boys unable to keep their eyes open across from us

off to look at fishing boats - so many questions about what everything is

one called Mary Elizabeth - made me think of my Mary - she would have loved those boats

barnacles and buoys - lots of photos

back to the beach for lunch in the gazebo - shandys and light rainstorm

home to change

Lilly & Seersucker - good looking pair

to the real BBQ - hot dogs and hamburgers for appetizers

too much wine, too much beer

a family first - aunts & fuzzins vs. aunts & cousins beirut

a conga line

to-go cups of wine

tipsy, perfect evening

Early wake up - the hangover must wait as it is finally time to use the wetsuits

bikinis and swim trunks

coffee to go

to the beach

sex wax, long boards, solid surf

2 hours in the water, no interest in coming out

riding in on my knees, EBJ on his feet

coming back to him slowly, i learned to get off the board before i hit the sand

amazing morning - could have sat on the board forever

sandwich time, best shower of my life, more football

lobster roll, landsharks, steamers and corn

live music - lots of john mayer

back to the beach - just too nice a day to leave

another landshark - standing on a turtle

3 simple words.

perfect end to a perfect weekend.

"i've walked these streets, since I was ten - tonight they're new again and I'm so glad to be walking around in the city"

2008-07-02T10:56:00.005-04:00

The title today comes from a song by a band called 'Milton' you should check them out!

I was just reading another blog – about a weekend trip to the NYC

They were ladies who lunched, and ladies who had too many glasses of wine and strolled through the city. all bits of adventure on a vacation weekend to the best city in the world...

I’ve been to other cities – strolled through the streets of Athens, lunched outside and ate octopus just plucked out of the ocean.

I’ve seen Pippi Longstockings ‘house’ and the parking lot of an Ikea in Sweden.

Been to an outdoor mall in Salt Lake City, Quincy Market in Boston and an amazing sandwich shop in Burlington.

Lived in DC for a while – know the best place for late night burgers (lindys) and that a strong G&T can keep you warm on the walk from the Metro to the bars in Adams Morgan.

I know where to order fried mac and cheese in LA and have had an In n Out burger ‘animal style’ for brunch, lunch and dinner one day.

Want to go to a kids only playground in London, I can tell you where to go.

The best place to see a Bon Jovi cover band while sitting in a bar made out of an old boat in Vero Beach? I got it.

A blowhole in Hawaii? Target headquarters in Minneapolis? A Pot Belly sandwich in Michigan – no problem.

All of those adventures were exciting and new – I visited and walked around wide eyed and grinning. But this city is my home, so while I continually get excited to find a new brunch spot, or see my favorite streets lit up just before dusk, its funny to think that I will never visit the Big Apple, will never wander around Times Square while trying to find the naked cowboy, while I will visit the World Trade Center site, I will not include ‘ground zero’ on my list of ‘Must Do’s while in the city!’ Canal street scares me, but taking the subway at all hours of the night does not. I know I am lucky to live here – but sometimes I wonder what it must be like to see this place for the first time.

But then again, I'll find a street, a neighborhood, a restaurant I’ve never been too –Spring Street in the fall, Park Avenue lined with hibiscus in the spring, air conditioners whirring along 78th street in the summer and a snow storm on Rivington 2 winters ago and once again I am wide eyed and grinning exploring a new bit of city I had yet to encounter before.

Quotables

2008-06-30T10:08:00.003-04:00

Suze "perhaps a quickie?"
Sil: "Hey! I want one!"
Suze: "You want a quickie?"
Sil: "Oh no, I thought you said cookie"

Cougar 1: "i'll have a veggie burger please"
Waitress: "we don't have veggie burgers"
Cougar 1: "Ok, then i'll have a cheeseburger with bacon and a large fry"
Cougar 2: "don't get fries they go straight to your a$$ - lets share a large wings"
Cougar 1: "I don't want wings"
Cougar 2: "its ok, I'll just get them for myself"

tramps like us, baby we were born to walk

2008-06-26T09:27:00.002-04:00

I'm sure you've all been wondering, and i can assure you - I'm still walking.

apparently we've made it to a beach somewhere - I know this because when I log in each morning all of a sudden I feel like I'm in a typhoon, or at least a really good white noise machine.

We get seagulls and crashing waves - but the audio guy took it a little seriously and sometimes it startles me to hear tidal waves crashing at my feet. at 9am. on the 5th floor of my office on Lexington Avenue. in New York City.

But we just keep walking - we've actually walked more steps then we have credit for - I'll be the first to admit I followed blindly, they sent me the pack, with all the cool gear (socks!) and i put my pedometer on and I trusted it would be correct. that it would measure each and every last step I took to ensure my apartment steps were counted (I best be getting credit for 4 flights each day). They provided reason to trust - on the website you can actually see the evolution of the pedometer, literally they show the last 6 years of pedometers and explain that these have all gone through rigorous testing and this years pedometer was the best you could buy (or receive free in your pack o fun).

they lied.

I received an odd sketchy package from China, slightly wary of opening it, I had our receptionist do it - low and behold, new pedometers and a little note saying oops! not all the pedometers worked correctly, so now you get more! and these work! we swear!

well my steps doubled the first day, so obviously i had a defective one - so our team is back in the running - walking on the beach currently - which is fun, except for the tidal wave heading my way.

Its the weekend

2008-06-20T15:25:00.002-04:00

Bit of a blogging break lately - SIl has been traveling, and my life just hasn't been all that interesting I guess.

went to the beach last weekend as usual - only this wasn't so usual.

my roommates birthday

early wake up

bacon and eggs (weekend trend)

drive to the beach

practice my photoshooting using different settings

(pictures to follow)

overcast, but hot

too cold to swim

toasted almond ice cream

brought me back to being 8 (even spilled most of it on my bathing suit)

corn husking

BBQ meats

aloe (not for me though, i smelled like coppertone)

rum punch

a thunderstorm

mojitos

dancing

sleeps.

Another great weekend - I'm getting pretty lucky here.

This weekend (and almost every other weekend) i will spend here:

my own little bit o heaven.

then off to paintball round 2 - although no more gun photos as per momma suze.

happy weekend!

Ecto Cooler?

2008-06-12T10:04:00.002-04:00

Last night I had organized a pick up football game in the park, if you've been following along on our blog, you know Sil and I play touch football in a charity social league in NYC. Our team took the summer season off, and I have been missing getting outside to run around like a 5 year old after 6 too many bowls of Fruity Pebbles (not that i know what that feels like - when i was younger my mom thought my ridiculous energy was caused by too much sugar...little did she know).

So I organized a low key pick up game in the park - last night was our inaugural game and 8 1/2 players came (the 1/2 was wearing flip flops and only stayed for a few minutes). We had fun! Everyone quarterbacked, caught a few balls, ran around, rolled down hills and successfully navigated a large slope on the field, as well as Gucci loafers marking 1 end zone.

Then on to Brother Jimmys for a bucket of wings and many, many bud light pitchers. Plus a fish bowl, compliments of our lovely waitress. Those of you who have never tried a fish bowl just haven't lived - its a fish bowl (duh) filled to the brim with an greenish liquid that looks like a cross between that stuff that drips out of cars in the summer and Ecto Cooler. (double points for anyone who remembers that awesome tuff - another casualty in our house hold full of low sugar products). I think they make the Fish Bowl by taking every bottle of liquor that usually resides on the bottom shelf, the dustier the better, and pour them into the bowl, throw in some ice and a shot of Southern Comfort (its a bbq place, everything has SoCo in it) and a plastic crocodile (alligator?) oh and 4,030,4085 pink and green straws (shout out Lilly lovers everywhere) and you got yourself a little something I like to call 'if you drink this with less then 7 people expect the worst hangover of your entire life tomorrow - you will be puking up amaretto for the next 6 months, but damn does it taste so good when it hits your lips"

our game will be bi-monthly for the summer - and as long as we remember the bug spray it should be a pretty good time.

Hot town, summer in the city*

2008-06-06T15:02:00.004-04:00

"summer is the time when one sheds ones tensions with ones clothes"
- Ada Louise Huxtable

Is it just me, or does summer (especially in Manhattan) open up this magical cloud of awesome? It's like fairy dust over the city - everyone is outdoors, and walking, and happy.

Last night as i walked home from my late night (8:30, but I'm old so that is late on a school night) errand, i ran into a neighbor I like and his pup and a friend of mine i hardly ever see. For both the interactions were brief, but as i walked through the door of my apartment, and geared up for those 4 (i swear its only 4) flights of stairs, i said out loud "god i love New York"

And today at lunch, as I walked back to the office with a coworker (I am not going to say what i had for lunch as EBJ will have a heart attack - Mr. Macaroni and Cheese for a snack, Pot meet Kettle) we noticed a man, with a peacock feather hooting at cars as he waited for the light to turn and the little white man to pop up. Chris and I just laughed, and he said out loud "i love New York")

Also, has anyone read the Vanity Fair Summer Guide yet? Below are a few of my 'must do this summer' ideas - and now, blog readers (all 4 of you) in an effort to get some type of comments and also, because I would like to remain on top in the 'most creative date idea comer-upper' what are your 'must do this summer' plans?

A sneak peak of mine:
- The Astoria Beer Garden - I love Greece, I Love beer, I love gardens, I even like Queens - yet somehow I haven't gotten there yet.
- Walk over the Brooklyn Bridge - it still amazes me that I haven't done this - but i will - Summer of 2008 will be a summer of firsts.
- I want to see the big balloon dog at the Met (Jeff Koons exhibit)
- Drink outdoors as much as physically possible.

now you...

*I always thought the lyrics to that song were "hot CHILD, summer in the city" I was wrong oops.

89,145 steps or Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes

2008-06-03T10:12:00.003-04:00

Well i have taken 89,145 steps in 13 days- that is 35 miles, or 28 cans of soda.

I'm still at my desk, although the website tells me i am actually in Agua Viva, Venezuela. I can actually send you a postcard from there. Which is still confusing to me - as I am here.

I have walked up the stairs of the Montauk Lighthouse, up the stairs of the 78th street 6 station, down York avenue, across a football field (or 2). I walked (ok ran, ok crawled) across a paintball course, and skipped (still counts) around a pool.

Some of my steps came from dancing, some from jumping, a few from running, but i would say mostly the dancing.

We'll see where i go in the next 13 days.

Now, a bit about paintball.

I'll be honest. i had zero interest in this trip. i almost got out of it actually, but EBJ, being EBJ, likes to include everyone and changed the details of the trip. All of a sudden i WAS available. yay.

So i packed up some old long sleeve shirts, and a heavy sweatshirt for protection and headed up to Millbrook, NY. Of course, EBJ, again being EBJ, had a fabulous costume surprise for me. So i was lucky enough to get to spend the weekend in Carhartt overall and more pieces of camo then i thought could be possible.

and the weekend went a little something like this:

Long drive

Mexican

Blood orange mojitos - a little bit of heaven

so many beers

a Brittney named Lulu

a fire on the porch (the good kind, not the fireman have to come kind)

amazing sleep

bacon & eggs

biscuits

mean looks from the locals (we're from NY, we're loud, and impatient)

lots of beer at the grocery store

"i'm going to shoot people"

a mini militia

death camp

attacking the bunkers

this all sounds scarier then it was

hiding in the brush - shooting 12 year olds

shot in the face, but it didn't break, so i was safe

eva-kazee

a million games, a few beers

best shower of my life

watched a rain storm come in over the trees - found out later there was even hail

venison steaks and corn on the bbq

mini keg stands

lots of beer in my nose

mini keg toss

never have i ever

9 9 busta rhyme...we couldn't make it past 2

"i like my corona with lime" was my best

more company

more beers

more laughs

more sleeps (this time on the porch, on EBJ's shoulder)

i swear, i'm just resting my eyes

more bacon

more eggs

more mean looks

oh and more biscuits (they were gooooood)

a drive back

missing paintball

i liked making advances on the bunker

and the hiss the gun makes when you shoot it

and squashing the paintballs under my feet

and running around in the woods

and wearing Carhartts and camo

and shooting 12 year olds

Went to Rent

lucky #19

remembered how its changed my life

got to see it change teenagers from Ohio

Sil was changed too

walk through Central Park

i should do that more

so much i've neer seen

watched 2 softball games

layed in the grass

ate ribs

content sleep.

another supa fantastic weekend

A bit about the perfect weekend

2008-05-27T15:48:00.005-04:00

Well Sil has really put her mark on the blog this weekend, so i guess it is my turn to get involved!

my Memorial day weekend was spent like this:

pizza party at work

jitney to the beach

a trip through town

iced tea and macaroni and cheese (just a snack)

21st birthday party

beirut & hamburgers

beer on the porch

great sleeps

driving with the windows down, sunroof open

no traffic

more iced tea and some bacon and eggs

chats by the pool

incredible views

new t-shirts

loosing beirut

winning beirut

freezing cold dips in the pool

dancing by the pool

the best sunset I’ve ever seen

amazing dinner

corn on the bbq is the best

crazy game of cranium

i acted out being a beaver

more amazing sleeps

delicious homemade breakfast

i made the bacon

drive out to Montauk

stop for ice cream (first of the summer)

climb the lighthouse - 137 steps up, 137 down, great for my pedometer

watch the boats go by

margaritas

new england clam chowder

a trip to Lunch

lobster rolls on a picnic table

another BBQ

coronas and great company

more amazing sleeps

wake up for breakfast with the midgets

"I’m not a midget I’m just short"

new cozy sweatshirts

umbrella fort on the beach

shandys and curly fries

lobster roll, buffalo wings, an ill advised burger

pina coladas, coronas

and shandys to go

lazy train back to the city

its nice to be back

Our first photo story...

2008-05-26T20:38:00.009-04:00

This is a story of biking the "harder but scenic" route to New Jersey Memorial Day weekend, the GW bridge, sore bottoms, soccer tennis with a hose and plastic ball, Bubba burgers and Mauritian burgers, the loudest, most awful European club music coming from over the bushes, a few too many Bud Lights and drinking card games, never too many chocolate chip cookies, the easier 9W route (!), and photo retouching.
Everybody's smiling, sunshine day.

A bit about streamers

2008-05-23T17:51:00.003-04:00

I just got streamers!! My borrowed bike is now the proud owner of red, yellow, and sparkly clear streamers. She is pimped out, super stylin', and turned more than a few heads on our way home. Bonus points: the streamers only cost $5.41 (including tax). Best $5 bucks I've spent in a long time.

Okay, I'm going to get off the blog and off the computer now to actually go hang out with animate things, like friends...and for once today, I'm leaving the bike (and the red, yellow, and sparkly clear streamers) at home.

I like bikes. Or, a bit about biking in Manhattan

2008-05-23T16:51:00.004-04:00

Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart racing. My adrenaline is at an all time high. I didn’t jump out of a plane (never going to happen) or drive a racecar (not much more likely). I just rode a bicycle through the streets of Manhattan for the first time. Oh, and the front brakes don’t work.

I’m going off on a bike trip with some friends tomorrow for the long weekend. We are biking to Jersey across the George Washington Bridge, leaving at 9am to take the “harder but scenic route.” The packing list emailed to the crew today from my friend the organizer whose parent’s house we’re staying at: helmet, an extra pair of underwear, and a smile. Yes, this too will be blogged about.

But for now back to my adrenaline. Following a killer morning workout at Equinox and an hour-long body melting massage (Jack the Masseuse to me: “Your back really is a mess. Take it easy on yourself.”), I literally put myself right into mid-day Manhattan traffic, which I guess wasn’t exactly following Jack the Masseuse’s advice. My boss lent me her old bike for my weekend getaway (May is also National Bike Month, so she was happy to contribute indirectly to the cause) and my supervisor lent me her helmet (clearly they both take good care of me) so I went to the office, which is conveniently across the street from the gym, to gather my adventure supplies. Did I mention we are closed today for a four-day long weekend? Fridays off to ride your borrowed bike are heavenly.

(She needs a helmet!)

So, picture this: I am quite a sight as I hop on the bike in my moderately cute outfit - tight jeans (yeah, sort of forgot I’d be biking when I packed my post-gym bag), gray tank, silver chuck tailors, backpack and awesome helmet (it even has a brim to keep out sun, flying debris and oncoming pigeons). The gears are clicking all over the place as I try to get accustomed to the bike. I did ride it around the office to try it out yesterday, with my helmet on for safety – those FedEx boxes can be hazards! – but nothing could have prepared me for the bustling streets of New York City.

I figured that I should probably bike on 1st Avenue to go up town, completely forgetting of course that 1st Ave. has a huge hill built into it. And once you’ve huffed and puffed up the hill, you then have to go down. Speeding, with honking cars on your left and illegally parked trucks in the bus lane on your right, and no front breaks. Hopefully my mom has stopped reading our blog by now.

I thought I was playing it safe going this way, as there were nice big green signs with bikes on them directing me this way. Then you get on 1st and the signs disappear for a while…was I supposed to cross the FDR to get on the running/bike path which then stops way before the 30s even end? But thankfully, soon after I pass the UN (more on that portion of the trip below), I see another green sign! Yes, someone, somewhere does still care about us bikers – like how after one ride on one day, I’ve proclaimed myself a city biker? The people who care, however, are not drivers. Jerkfaces. Now, I’m more than just a biker. I’m a two-wheeled hater of anything with four-wheels, and I’m ready to stand up and fight for biker rights! Viva bicicletas! Especially when that next green sign I see directs me away from 1st Ave (I live off 1st!) and over to Sutton Place, which turns into York. While it is a more picturesque 20 blocks to my apartment with a view of the River, and I do feel much safer on the quieter avenue, I am totally miffed that we bikers must take the detour and the gas-guzzlers get the luxury of convenience. Tsk, tsk city planners. And, while we’re at it, city planners, the bike lane lines on York are totally faded so no one can tell it is the bike route, especially if they’ve missed the last green sign that was 30 streets back.

All that happened in just 10 blocks.

And as it is happening, this entire inner monologue, pretty much everything you’re reading above and below (if you’re still reading, that is), is running through my head. I even thought to myself wouldn’t it be great if I had a small tape recorder (people still use those, right?) affixed onto the handlebars so I could say all this out loud as it was happening. Then I could transcribe into the blog, or even include an audio link. The experience would be even more amusing and there would be the honks and yells and sirens and dogs barking that would really make our reader feel like they were there. I mean, don’t you want to dodge exploded fire hydrants and downed power lines, too?

Every block and turn is a new adventure (or you might say danger) in itself. Here were just a few of mine this afternoon:
1. Dodging Fluffy or Muffy the white French Poodle with pink ribbons and her similarly attired, oblivious owner as they crossed the street at a molasses-like pace
2. Another biker who swerved out of the way for a car who then moved for a truck who then moved for an ambulance
3. The Casanova construction workers. Because I am simply a living, breathing woman in Manhattan. I think my helmet’s pretty sexy, too, boys.
4. The 15-foot water pipe carried by said construction workers
5. The Free Tibet protest outside the UN
6. The armed guards with those clear plastic shields outside the UN
7. Three NYPD vans and five huge white Asian tour buses outside the UN
8. The old man with the green bowler hat that waved his cane at me hello
9. The old woman with the green house dress that shook her cane at me (think she meant get out of the way)
10. The bottleneck of other bikers who also were too afraid for their lives and the road-raged drives stuck in traffic and had to bike on the sidewalk for the stretch past the Mobil station at 59th and 1st

How come you never notice this much when you’re walking? That would be a much safer way. Yeah, I know, who wants to play it safe all the time?

I believe I have now developed a new camaraderie with the bike delivery guys and I’ve also come to the realization that I need a basket on my borrowed bike. I’m hoping that my boss might like to lend me her bike for the whole summer. I’ll even get the front brake fixed, and get those fun streamer thingies for the handlebars. I’d like pink, orange and white. Or blue. Ooh and a basket.

So while Suze walks around the world for 4 months, I plan to bike Manhattan (ooh and the BK too) and take my own tour of this mini-world – Little Italy, Chinatown, Spanish Harlem, where else should I go??

In the meantime, I’m off (via bike, of course) to a bike shop downtown near Spring St. I don’t know why I had to pick this bike shop specifically, especially since that means biking all the way downtown with one working break, and no reflective light. (Did I forget to mention that it somehow just flew off the bike with no warning about three blocks from home?)

I’ve walked by this bike shop many times, though I still don’t know the name. Maybe I should bike by it to figure that out. The shop is tiny and overflowing with all sorts of bikes. It just looks like a place I want to take my borrowed bike with WD-40 greased on the windows and bike repairman who always have one pant leg rolled up. I’ll let you know how it goes and what color streamers I get…as long as I make it there in one piece.

a bit about global fitness initiatives

2008-05-23T11:42:00.003-04:00

I am walking around the world, without leaving the city. Well at least not leaving the city very often.

Our company is participating in a Global Fitness Thinger that involves wearing a pedometer and walking as much as possible for the next 4 months. Yep, 4 months.

So last week we got a backpack full of gear to help us on our walk - a water bottle, socks, 2 pedometers, a hat and a mouse pad. Now keep in mind, we aren't actually walking around the world - just too and from work with an occasional walk around the block at lunch thrown in there. but still, we needed a water bottle and special socks. oh and a mountaineering backpack. i wasn't this prepared for our planned 21 mile hike in Hawaii!

So you walk and walk and walk, and your pedometer keeps track of your steps and each morning we log them in and they show us where we have walked. The weird thing is they have this website to log on to and all week they have been telling us about the weather in Valpairso, Chile, and how we should bring a raincoat because its rainy and maybe an extra pair of socks (not included in the pack) and then they sent us emails about flying in and the locals being confused as to what was going on. Oh and they have all the foods we should try and words we can use if we get lost and need to find The Batharooma

Except, that I am reading this at my desk. and i know where the bathroom is, and i'm not flying anywhere. and I wore flip flops to walk this morning, and its not raining.

Oh and i'm in New York, not Chile.

so I don't really get the whole thing - but we are all excited about it for now - we are walking around in circles while having conversations with colleagues and making plans to take walks at lunch and we can walk home each night and catch up on our days.

but i have a feeling that one morning I'm going to be wearing a dress (no where to place pedometer without looking like you have a hip tumor), and I'm going to want to eat lunch at my desk, or in the kitchen, and I'm going to have plans to drink heavily after work that night and then I'll be hung-over in the morning and more focused on getting out of bed and getting to a bacon and egg on a roll sandwich then how many steps I've taken and all of a sudden I've fallen off the wagon and while other teams are marching across Nigeria, I am stuck in Cape Town, unable to find a bathroom and without my extra pair of socks.

I bit about real simple cooking

2008-05-21T11:49:00.006-04:00

So Sil and I used to live together - to start back at the beginning, we lived in the same dorm, during a semester we did in DC. 2 years later Sil graduated and i needed a new roommate - so in she moved to our Murray Hill 2 bedroom, converted to 3 and we had a fabulous year of wine and cheese on the balcony, snow storms, bachelor party adventures and more shenanigans then either of us care to fully remember.

As a Christmas present that year Silvie got me a year long subscription to Real Simple magazine and immediately i was hooked. Granted Real Simple is more geared towards the suburban housewife freezing meals so her poor inept husband and soccer/lacrosse/karate/oboe playing kids will have a home cooked meal each night then me, the then new to NYC, then totally single, then incapable of boiling water correctly to make pasta. But i loved it. my new years resolution was to learn to be more domestic and I took on the challenge the same way i take on a big cup of pudding. aggressively.

So the point of all of this - i actually have become a pretty ok cook - i love to do it, and love to try new recipes out, especially since Real Simple had the ingenious idea to give their dishes fancy sounding names, but still make them relatively easy to cook with nothing requiring Marsala wine or 14 different pans. (i have a very teeny stove)

I am going to post some of my delicious finds for you! all 4 of you! So I can feel like I am contributing to the blog, without actually writing anything spectacularly funny.

So here is my dinner from last night - I am writing it by memory, not by recipe, so if it doesn't work don't hate me.

Pepper Tuna with Oven Fries and Lemon Spinach

Purchase:
Tuna steak - we got 1 from Agata and Valentina - it was HUGE, so we felt like 1 was ok - but decide on how hungry you are before you purchase - this works for lunch the next day too (i just ate it) so if you want more tuna that's ok too.

Salt & Pepper - if you actually have to purchase this, maybe you should stick to toast. i like sea salt, just an FYI

1 lemon

a few potatoes - i got 3 but that was too many for the 2 of us. Also, i learned you should wash taters REALLY well and dry them REALLY well too. no idea why - but do it!

spinach

olive oil

1 shallot

that's it! amazing right!

To do:

-Heat your oven to 400 degrees

- cut up potatoes (i do them more like chips, then fries - flat and round) and toss in a big bowl with salt, pepper and olive oil (as much as you like - more olive oil makes them more crispy and easier to get off the baking sheet)

- lay potatoes on baking sheet and cook - this takes 40 minutes, so do it first so you aren't waiting for them in the middle of the rest of your dinner. (this happens to me a lot)

- when potatoes only need about 15 more minutes put the tuna on a plate and coat both sides with salt and pepper. Heat 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil in a pan (i use a grill pan, but you can use whatever pan you like)

- when the oil is hot hot hot (can you feel it) put the tuna on the pan. cook for 2 minutes on each side. (note, do not go and watch the Yankees 2nd inning when they are already losing 8-0, it will make you cook the tuna too long) did you know - Tuna, unlike other fish, continues cooking after you take it off the heat. Fact of the Day from EBJ

- In a separate pan, take another 2 tablespoons of olive oil and cut up the shallots into circles and cook em all up for about 2 minutes, then put the spinach in the pan. Get more spinach then you think you will eat, it gets super tiny when cooked.

- put the tuna and spinach on a plate (don't forget to take potatoes out of the oven) put them on the plate too.

-Spritz some lemon on the spinach - and you're done.

If you want to be fancy, you can put a lemon wedge on the plate as well.

The whole situation takes about 1 hour - but if you don't do the potatoes, and instead maybe a nice rice pilaf, or a pasta dish - it will make it shorter.

Enjoy!

Coming up tomorrow - I am walking around the world for the next 4 months. details to come.

A bit about me, a bit about you!

2008-05-19T17:45:00.003-04:00

A few burning questions i'm sure you've all been dying to find the answers to! Also known as Suze is still not feeling well and is finding it difficult to write something witty!

Sil - put your answers below mine!

I give you money and send you into the grocery store to pick up 5 items. You can only pick one thing from the following departments.. what is it?
SUZE:
1. Produce: grapefruit! (ruby red)
2. Bakery: rainbow cookies!
3. Meat: filet mignon
4. Frozen: ice cream!
5. Dairy: chocolate pudding swirl! (technically in the dairy section)

SIL:
1. Produce: carrots (who doesn't want to see in the dark) and blueberries (super food!) Did you really think I could pick just one??
2. Bakery: cake. cupcakes. and, cookie cake. (all in the cake family so it's like choosing just one.) did i say cake?
3. Meat: tofu. or wild alaskan salmon.
4. Frozen: skinny cow.
5. Dairy: skinny cow. no, fresh mozerella.

Let's say we're heading out for a weekend getaway. You're only allowed to bring 3 articles of clothing with you. So, what's in your bag?
SUZ:
1. flip flops
2. a bathing suit
3. a comfy sweatshirt
4. another bathing suit (options are important)
5. a sarong (can be used as a blanket too!)
(lets hope this weekend getaway is to a beach!)

SIL: (pls note, directions say 3 yet there are 5 answer spaces. tricky, suze.)
1. my ridiculously cool orange and purple nike running shoes. (my boss even bought herself a pair! but you shouldn't. cause then you'd be biting my steeze. have to let the boss do it.)
2. cute jeans
3. cambridge athletics t-shirt from freshman year of high school
4. a dress that can be worn for weekend or night
5. spandex (can be worn for running or under the dress if it is cold - look at that versatility)

If I was to listen in on your conversations throughout the day, what 5 phrases or words would I be most likely to hear?
SUZ:
1. I can haz?
2. To be honest
3. Literally
4. Best/funniest/worst thing ever
5. Jerkface

SIL:
1. really?
2. thanks
3. i think...
4. how's it goin'?
5. i'm hungry.

So, what 3 things do you find yourself doing every single day, and if you didn't get to do, you probably wouldn't be in the best mood?
Suz:
1. brushing my teeth ( i have stinky morning breath - too much information?)
2. wearing clothing to work (naked is fine at home, but work, not so much)
3. looking at icanhazcheeseburger. It makes me giggle out loud

Sil:
1. talking to my mama (well, almost every day)
2. something active, even just walking (endorphins are my drug of choice. wow, that sounds lame.)
3. checking my blackberry (if i miss something, the reprecussions definitely don't put me in the best mood.)

We are going to the zoo. But, it looks like it could start storming, so it'll have to be a quick visit. What 3 exhibits do we have to get to?
Suz:
1. PENGUINS
2. PENGUINS
3. Spectacled Eiders

Sil:
1. anything from the ocean that makes me feel like i'm actually at the aquarium
2. chimpanzees (watch the nat geo special that shows how awesomely smart they are!)
3. giraffes

You just scored tickets to the taping of any show that comes on t.v. of your choice. You can pick between 4, so what are you deciding between?
Suz:
1. Law and Order
2. Law and Order SVU
3. Law and Order CI
4. 30 Rock

Sil:
1. american gladiators. (needs no explanation)
2. locked up abroad (you'd get to travel somewhere exotic!! albeit to also to the airport and jail.)
3. south park (is that even possible? really, it is a smart, topical show)
4. sex and the city (are quasi-cliche, shows that no longer film allowed?)

You're hungry for ice cream. I'll give you a triple dipper ice cream cone. What 3 flavors can I pile on for ya?
Suz:
1. Ben and Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie
2. Haagan Daaz Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles
3. Coffee

Sil: ice cream gives me a belly ache - how bout frozen yogurt (milk not cream!)
1. black raspberry chocolate chip
2. rainbow sorbet (not exactly frozen yogurt)
3. chocolate and vanilla non-fat swirl
(man, that's kind of a gross triple dipper, huh?)

Somebody stole your purse…in order to get it back, you have to name 5 things you know are inside to claim it. So, what's in there?

Suz:
1. bberry
2. lippy
3. some form of Reeses something for EBJ
4. monies
5. flip flops for walking to work

Sil: who stole my purse?? watch out, i take shadow boxing.
1. bberry (god, we're addicted, suze)
2. cell phone
3. mi walleta
4. mi cameraera
5. formerly frozen veggie burger patty, the economist, a wheel of cheese, gold heels, checkbook, bberry, cell phone and all the rest (one long night at the bar following one long night at the office...don't ask. or do, if you want to die laughing. really.)

You are at a job fair, and asked what areas you are interested in pursuing a career in. Let's pretend you have every talent and ability to be whatever you wanted, so what 4 careers would be fun for you?
Suz:
1. Katie Couric (while at Today)
2. Brian Williams
3. David Gregory
4. a penguin feeder at the Central Park Zoo
5. Mama Rose in Gypsy on Broadway

Sil: this is a hard one...
1. master sommelier
2. master florist (or just a regular florist would suffice)
3. bill bryson. (funniest. travel. writer. ever.)
4. mia hamm (some dreams never die.)
5. president.

I bet you all feel MUCH more informed.

A bit about Wine Bars (Likely to be followed later this summer by A lot about Wine Bars)

2008-05-18T21:14:00.005-04:00

Similar to mid-day margaritas or vineyard tastings, finding a new wonderful new wine bar can be a most pleasing and fulfilling experience. And there are few better things than experiencing the find on a damp, rainy, windy New York City Friday night (especially when it has rained at least the past three Fridays in a row…)
I decided that wine bars were a new interest (my Facebook page says so – it must be true) even before Eric Asimov’s Dining In feature in The Times last month, thank you, and as such, they must become important parts of my blog adventures for the months ahead. It is also true that many of these said wine bars are downtown – in SoHo and the East Village, where my favorite did previously reside. Possibly until now.

It is possible that I have a new favorite, and (gasp) it is on the Upper East Side. Felice, which is still fairly new, offers more than 100 Italian wines and “classic Italian dishes from Sant Ambroeus chef, Simone Parisotto” (thank you, nymag.com). It is cute, cozy, comfortable and my two friends and I (yes, I was the third wheel) spent almost four hours there on Friday evening, even after I was 15 minutes late! By the time we has eaten artichoke hearts, ricotta, drank two bottles of burgundy, laughed ‘til our stomachs hurt, and were ready to again face the weather, our candle had sufficiently burned down, that kind of burn with the dripped wax layered on all sides, evoking the feel of being in an Italian restaurant movie setting, the ones with a red and white checkered table cloth and just one plate of spaghetti and meatballs for two. Good thing my friend had protected the flame from the gust of wind each time the door opened ensuring our candle would reach Lady and The Tramp status. So much ambiance I can barely stand it.

Here are my prerequisites for the perfect wine bar.
Also, in an effort to generate comments on our blog (Sad that this is a mission I have taken on with great fervor? Heck, you can comment on that, too if you want!), I’d love to know what your prereqs are.

1. Wine bottles visible anywhere you look throughout the space. It adds that ambiance, and helps to remind me that (thank god) I am not somewhere like…Dorian’s.
2. Candles on every table – I want the romantic vibe…even when I am the third wheel.
3. Small plates. Preferably with cheese. And bread. And more cheese.
4. A menu that teaches me something. For example: Fatta in casa means “made in house.” I like it. Fatta. I also learned just now that Felice is actually pronounced fay-LEE-chay (thanks again, nymag.com).
5. The wine never stops flowing.

I will only experience wine bars, and now fay-LEE-chay, with people I truly enjoy. As is current par for the course, I won’t reveal the names of my wine bar compatriots, but I am sending them an email asking them if they’d be interested in making it our new neighborhood staple (not that I had an old one, except for Suze and my spot, delicious coffee shop Beanocchios). 64th and 1st is nicely smack dab in the middle of our apartments. It was only our first date, for my new couple friends and I, (and us with Felice wine bar), but that is how much fun we had…and how much wine we drank. Even in the rain, a good wine bar cures all.

To come – Suze and Sil get back on the tram, take on a fighting salad green, bash heads with something called BAM, babysit for two kids, then three kids, learn to Wii and almost kidnap a new puppy.

2008-05-16T11:23:00.002-04:00

I wasn't planning to post today, as i really haven't done anything all that interesting, and then I remembered that the whole point of the blog was to record our adventures - even the small ones.

so a bit about b-boys, escargot and rain rain rain...

Last night I was running early (shocker) to meet EBJ for mojitos downtown - i stumbled upon a bunch of guys with spray paint, markers and trucker hats - and obviously what makes more sense then a monogramed trucker hat! I got EBJ a hat with his initials monogrammed on it.

I will note, the men who do this do not call it monogramming, they call it 'tagging' but i do not tag things, i monogram.

So EBJ has a hat.

We rolled into L'Orange Bleu for a mojito, but when it hit our lips we knew we weren't going anywhere fast. We moved outside and ordered an assortment of yummies - escargot in little pots, duck foie gras, oysters, and circle calamari, as opposed to the blah calamari.

3 mojitos later we headed home, where we planned on having 1 glass of wine.

2 bottles later, i was practicing karate with EBJ's roommate and he was modeling his rapper outfit for a party he is going to this weekend - the outfit consists of a blinged out brown cap with thug sticker still attached, the coolest jeans in the history of jeans and a brown shirt with "Obey the Power" written on it. oh and bling. i took photos and made him take the outfit off - i really couldn't handle the agressiveness of his ensemble.

To come this weekend - Sil and Suze take care of 2 children and a dog. Hilarity ensues when Suze, a Jetta driver, tries to back out of the driveway in the tank (also known as a suburban) while 1 child shrieks, a dog barks and Sil refuses to let Suze listen to her country.

Back to camp!

2008-05-14T23:40:00.010-04:00

Ok my turn, just a few days late(r).

While my weekend didn’t take me on a grand treasure hunt, I too drank plenty of wine, ate a delicious home-cooked meal (or four), played, and spent hours finding something.

I found my way back to camp.

Have you ever gone back to visit somewhere that held a most special place in your heart? On the way there that nervous excitement takes over, with just a few little butterflies aflutter in your stomach and you wonder how you’re actually going to feel when you finally get there. To top it off, I’d been keeping this trip a secret as it was a surprise. This being the second surprise secret I’d had to keep in just the past few weeks, I was itching to just make it happen already. (As you can tell, I like to talk so these have been a real challenge!)

The surprise was a special birthday dinner for a very dear old friend, one of my best from growing up. J was turning 25, and after a number of years having lost touch, about a year ago we ran into each other while home for the holidays and she started a pen pal relationship. In this day of clogged e-mail in-boxes, text messages, and yes, even blogging, there’s something almost sacred about writing a letter. Try it, really. You might like it. And then receiving that letter back in your little NYC apartment mailbox, well that just makes your whole night. Like tonight.

So, J’s mom, P, is the owner/director of camp and wanted to put together an intimate dinner for J’s closest friends from back in the day that she’s now back in touch with (a pen palling extraordinaire she is!) P emailed weeks ago to see if we’d be able to come, and following an elaborate adventure to get there (Friday train – ok the luxurious Acela to which I tend to treat myself – to Boston, mama picks me up late night from South Station, sleepover/sleep in, and -day solo drive all the way up to Maine, Belgrade Lakes to be exact), I arrive. A few hours and one stiff back later (but worth it), I roll into camp. And, it looks the same, except P’s house has been gorgeously re-modeled, there is a towering climbing wall (it must be as tall as my apartment building!) and a goat pen in the works. There were no goats when we were kids and these are going to be petting goats. They also happen to be meat goats. Don't tell the little camp girls that this summer...
But soon, I see the shacks we used to live in during those carefree summers when what mattered was aiming the rifles at the target, not the horses trotting past, and how fast you could eat saltines and whistle during the 4th of July relay race. I was better at blowing bubble gum after eating peanut butter. I learned to windsurf and kayak and once I got a 50 at riflery, all five bullets (okay, blanks) hitting the bull’s-eye, not the horse. Clearly I still ride on those coattails, and did you know, I’m actually a member of the NRA? Ahh yes, a story for another day.

J is there when I arrive, hanging out in the house with her fiancé (she at least is all growed up), P, P’s husband, the dogs, and the new (like six days ago) addition to J’s family – an amazing little spunky Boston Terrier named Parker. I am in love. I walk in – surprise? J looks like she’s seen a ghost, and I don’t think its because she’s blinded by my gold Adidas kicks (J actually tells me later they are pretty sweet, thank you). It has been many months, but really, since we spent QT together? Years. So, we catch up, and drink wine and eat cheese and it is like things have never changed. We chat about our dwellings (she actually lives in a real house in NH!), our jobs (I do silly things like host boxing press conferences and pretend its promoting an island), and, when J’s man leaves the room, we chat about boys. And the ring. Of course. We all feast some more (good thing we took the dogs for a walk all over camp earlier!) and lament as we watch the Celtics look dumb in the playoffs against Lebron and the Cavs. It's good to be in New England.

Tipsy to bed following P’s homemade cupcakes with Splenda-infused frosting (surprisingly good) and I believe almost an entire watermelon (it’s just water right?), and as I drift into satisfied and satiated sleep with a happy, still surprised old, yet new, best friend in the next room, there are few places I’d rather be.

I got the greatest thank you note from J today (see Suze, there was totally a good reason I waited until tonight to blog!). Boy does she have nice stationary – she has other “adult” things too like those sticky return address labels with fiancé and her name on them together – but the smiley face and “THANK YOU” in caps block letters made it feel just like a letter we’d write to each other when I had left camp following first session and J was still there through August. There was no smuggled in candy, however. Hint, hint J, for next letter!

I plan to go back to camp more now, or at least get to NH to go camp-ing with J. We can pretend we’re going for our Junior Maine Guide certification and building an intricate Liu with pine trees, brush, sticks and bark to shield an exposed behind in nature, once again. Then she’ll come here in fall or winter, and we’ll make some NYC adventure memories. With wine and food and dancing and shopping and boys (just kidding J’s finance!)…and once again, we’ll find our way back and it will feel like no time has passed at all.

A bit about wine tasting

2008-05-13T10:51:00.003-04:00

Part 2 of my weekend went a little like this...

After picking up more t-g margaritas, chips and salsa, EBJ and i were off to the Jitney (a overpriced 'luxury' bus that takes you out to 'the hamptons' when its off season and the trains aren't running as often as they should). EBJ slept for a bit and i read my new book - "The Last Lecture".

My momma picked us up at the Jitney stop and we headed home to cook dinner - She is off to Santa Fe and The Grand Canyon for 2 weeks (Sil - maybe Momma Breff should write the 'Travel blog'). EBJ made a fire, and I cooked flounder, mashed potatoes (for the first time!), asparagus and made a salad. then we drank far too much wine and looked at embarrassing photos from my childhood. I was a skinny kid, with big pink glasses - quite a looker.

Sunday was adventure day! we had big plans to get up early (for some reason EBJ thought i was waking him up at 8am...um its the weekend and we are at the beach you is crazy!) - we slept in, toured the compound and checked out the chickens.

Yes, you heard it right, our neighbors got chickens. Now i don't really live in the 'suburbs' per say - but we don't live in the country either - and chickens running around are not the norm here. Apparently our neighbor received a bunch of chickens as a gift, which entertains me because who gives chickens as a gift? They came with a coop too - but no chicken wire (ha!). So for the first few weeks they liked to sun bathe on the other neighbors back porch - this led to a bit of an uproar and they now live fenced in. i don't know if they produce eggs (can all chickens? i should google this) but i do know that around 9am they buck buck backaw. and you can get them to do a call and repeat out my window - so that was entertaining.

We finally made it down to the beach for a photo shoot and then we were on our way - Wine Tasting here we come. We went to one i can't pronounce let alone try to spell - but the only thing they had going for them was a pretty barn so we were off to Pellegrini - we had some wine and soup crackers and then one thing led to another and EBJ had not only joined a wine club but purchased 16 bottles of wine. After loading it all in the trunk we were off to the next stop. We came upon a 'petting zoo' that i had been to but couldn't remember where it was, and it appeared there! so we purchased our feed and went about feeding an assortment of chickens, ducks, goats, 2 mini horses, a turkey, 4 bebe geese and a pig. 1 horse was nice, the other was a jerk - kicking the turkey and head butting the goats - we found out later we could have actually gone in the pen, but I don't think we could have made it out of there alive.

Next we were on to Raphael Vineyard - they are famous for their reds, so we bought a white. Then to Martha Clara which was overun with monsters - so we got some sausage type food and mustard and drank until we couldn't hear their shrill little voices.

Later we headed back to the city - EBJ pointed this out, but as much fun as i have at the beach, and as much as i enjoying getting out of the city - there really is nothing like coming over the bridge and seeing the Chrysler building and all the apartments lit up - getting away is nice, but coming home is better.

I Dare Ya

2008-05-12T11:28:00.000-04:00

Well I'm home sick today - after an eventful weekend my body decided to give out on me so I'm posting from bed.

Saturday EBJ and I decided to partake in Urban Dare a sort of day-long Amazing Race in NYC. You have to compete in teams of two and answer clues to map out your travel route - fastest teams win a prize (and a silver plate we found out later).

EBJ and I are both quite competitive people, in things that matter - like Zogsports Charity Co-ed Touch Football or who can get ready faster in the morning - but a race? No way we were in it for fun and drinking

In no way is Urban Dare meant to be a bar crawl - but it was a lovely Saturday and when you pass PJ Clarkes its almost blasphamous (hard word) to not imbibe.

We completly entertained the day drinkers and got some funny looks as we walked from clue to clue. We saw the Love Wall on Park Ave, did a wheelbarrow race next to Alexander Hamilton. I learned something new about EBJ (he can't blow bubbles) and danced a jig in Grand Central Station with whipped cream on my face.

Did you know the MS in MSNBC stands for Microsoft and that The Matrix was Keanu Reeves highest grossing film? (I still think Pointbreak should have counted)

We found ribbon stores and bell ringers and Ralph from the honeymooners, fell in love with 2 dogs and had to-go margaritas.

We finished in 4 hours 49 minutes - 2 hours and 49 minutes after the winners - but we weren't sore losers, we just headed back to the to-go margarita place to drown our sorrows with tequila.

To come tomorrow: a bit about a wine tasting

A bit about Jury Duty - Part #2, or is it #3?

2008-05-11T21:27:00.004-04:00

The Big JD (pretend I posted this on Friday)
Day #2

11:30am
Did you know that in New York City, jury duty is a full two-day commitment? I did not know this, and going into it my strategy was to deny, deny, deny to my co-worker who had just done her service (yes, two days) in New Jersey. Different states, lovely co-worker, I said earlier this week. Friday I’ll be in the office. We can talk about this on Friday when I’m here. I will see you on Friday.

It’s Friday. I’m at the courthouse. In Massachusetts, jury duty is ONE day. Just saying.
Today, Friday, jury duty is eerily quiet. People are still drying out from the rain and I once again have found myself in the front row. I've been doing a bit of work, but have little desire to do much more following a long week...

I felt a bit of weird jealousy this morning when Ms. Hawkins, the girl who sat next to me yesterday in Juror Selection Room A, got called into her trial, the medical mal-practice suit against Memorial Sloane Kettering. A woman in her mid-30s was suing two of the doctors - a cancer doctor and the reconstructive plastic surgeon - following a double mastectomy. Her cancer was cured (removed, really) and she wanted lumps put in place; that's the part of the surgery that apparently went gravely wrong and it seems her chest is a mess. They told us we'd have to see a number of graphic photos of it - maybe its best I wasn't on that one. While it would have been a difficult jury on which to sit, I'm now totally intrigued at being in a courtroom and secretly sort of want to be picked! It's already 11:30am and no cases have been called for yet.

11:45am
Oh no!
I just went to our lovely, cheery blog (much needed in this depressing, windowless “potential juror” waiting room and outside the rain and winds of lower Manhattan that earlier gobbled up my umbrella are doing little to help my mood) and...
"ACCESS DENIED!"

With this free UCS Public Access Wi-Fi in the courthouse, one can get on Gmail to check email, but Gchat is devastatingly blocked. Buzz killers. Thus, I must write my entry here in, then cut and paste into a Word document, save it and later remember to go back and upload to Traipsing Through Cherry Blossoms. Man, our judicial system never makes it easy for you do they.

Side note, I just glanced toward the back of the room and I count 1,2...6 people sleeping!

And, now, someone is snoring! And, an older woman is shushing him. Oh it is going to be a long day. I’m off to brave the rain and find that Starbucks Suze informed us all about yesterday.

a bit about mid-day margaritas

2008-05-08T15:45:00.002-04:00

they are ALWAYS a good idea.

very delicious ones can be found at Dos Caminos on 50th and 3rd.

A bit more about...

2008-05-08T15:30:00.006-04:00

What better, quintessential New York experience is there than this. No, Suze and I are not atop the Empire State Building (its foggy today), and this isn’t S&S brave the crowds and fake fendi hawkers on Canal St. (I hate Canal St.), or a foray through Times Sq. (I hate Time Square more).

Hint: I’m below 14th St. I went through metal detectors (and got stopped twice already – it’s only 10:30am as I write this part – for having my Blackberry on my person. This is typical Sil.) I made friends with a cop, or was that a warden. And a lawyer smiled at me.
Or was that a wink?

You guessed it (did you or are you just faking it? Like I may be in the “potential juror” interview process)
I am in Jury Duty. On Thomas St. Its like I belong here or something.

Duh, duh, duh (insert Perry Mason type courtroom music here) - this was the vision I had as I made my way alllll the way downtown on a rainy, yet muggy mid-May morning.

Suze and I both decided I should blog about the experience (at the same time, over email. We’re telepathic like that.) And, I figured what better way than to write Suze email updates throughout the day and use those as my postings. It is truly the best way to gain insight into our lives and friendship and humor (yes, we do have a little).
So, dear reader, enjoy

Without further ado, I give you:
A bit more about Jury Duty
Part 1 - 11:00am

Sil to Suze:
Hola,
So, I am here sitting in the big open room with honestly what must be 100 other "potential jurors." You would be proud of me, I sat myself right up front and center. Does this give me more of a chance of getting picked?? (Who ever said I wasn't a risk taker!)

Don't think your boy Security Mike is here...do wish I had some Suze baked homemade cookies though!
Figured I would email you some fun things so you could be an interactive part of this S "adventure" and then I'd take all the funny, moderately good parts and post them on the blog. Am I thinking, or am I thinking?

So, I just overheard that the trial is scheduled to be 12 days. Oh hell no. Quick, let's think of good excuses.
1. I'm overly god fearing (cross your fingers - and rub your cross I guess - that the case they are picking for is the suing of a church or something. I mean really, who sues God?)
2. A close friend of mine was ___(insert crime here as long as its not crazy bad.)
3. I go around thinking everyone is guilty. All the time. I mean, isn't that human nature, that by course of human nature everyone is innately bad. Was that Locke or Hobbes? (sorry, Dad. It's been a while since I studied those guys)

(I can't take credit for #3, the most creative of the bunch. I'm working with this guy from Showtime Sports who told me that was the excuse of famous sportswriter Jack Murray. Of course, that excuse comes from a writer.)

They’re talking to us now. And, I sort of have to pay attention, and maybe move from my prime seat in a second. Jury duty part #2 to follow.

Hearts and all,
S

Jury Duty Part #2 - The Interim
11:30am
From Suze to Sil:
I am writing a Jury Duty post too! We can combine them together!

My real tips – you wont get picked just because you are front and center (my first jury duty they picked out of a Bingo ball thinger B-52, B-52, you will sit on this trial for 12 days – BINGO!

Also, just be honest if you get picked and they interview you – saying you work in ‘media’ is better then ‘pr’ - although if you say both you may have a better option of not getting picked.

I love jury duty, so I am a bad person to ask about ways to get out, lets be honest

Also, I love our blog..and you. Cant wait to catch up tonight!

From Sil to Suze:
Dude!! Of course it took zero time for me to be called. I am number 4 in the first random process. Number 4. There were like 100 to start.

And, there is a guy taking his inhaler next to me. He is definitely freaking out.

K signing off now as they are staring at me. And I am in front row again!

Jury Duty Part #3
11:45am
Waiting. In the hall. Shortly we'll have to go back in the room where our fate will be determined...stay tuned.
Ooh there goes the lawyer for the defense! He looks like Sam from that game we used to play Guess Who? But without the green beret and the blond moustache; his is brunette. I like him immediately. Does that mean I won't get picked?
Ooh there he goes again.

A bit about jury duty

2008-05-08T11:38:00.003-04:00

I know my girl Sil will have far more to speak on this category later today as she is currently sitting in lock up.

i keed i keed - she got served and is doing her civic duty by showing up at the courthouse and sitting around for a few hours with the most random bunch of people in Manhattan.

Everyone has their jury duty stories, there aren't many that are too distinct at this point - we've all heard the one about the guy with the nose hair problem, and the woman who talks to herself, and the guy who mistakenly thought this was Jury Booty and showed up ready to meet a purdy woman to git busy with in the bathroom.

But a few tips from someone who spent last January as Juror #3 on a NY State Grand Jury. I will say, it was one of the most fun times of my life.

First off, make friends with the security guards - they are stopping the possible crazies from bringing in a shiv, a gun or a tootsie pop (those things could be dangerous, yet delicious, when used in the proper way). They also provide you with a guest pass when you forget your real Big Girl Jury Pass, every. single. morning. They also look the other way when you by mistake send your Iced Venti Sugar Free Vanilla Skim Latte through the X-Ray machine, knocking it over and making a bit of a mess of the briefcase that sadly entered after you. (my sincere apologies to both the lawyer, and the defendant who probably lost their case because of a not-completely-on-lid.

Which brings us to Starbucks - anyone serving in NYC, there is no, i repeat no, Starbucks in the direct path from the 4-5-6 train to the courthouse - take a left at the steps featured prominently in Law and Order and a right at the pigeons - you'll find it. If you pass Family Court you've gone too far. Look at your drink before you leave - my aforementioned ridiculously large drink was once substituted for a Venti Milk.

Law and Order and Actual Court have absolutely nothing in common, except that Sam Waterson is in the video entitled "Why It is Important That You Miss Your Actual Day Of Accomplishing Something To Sit Here and Listen to 9,000000 Drug Cases" or something equally ridiculous. I love Law and Order, and i will admit to being partially excited about Jury Duty if only to see Elliot Stabler testify that yes, in fact, the body was found under the pipe in the deserted warehouse just as the psychic said. Instead i got to see numerous boxy pants suits and undercover cops who we were not allowed to wave too outside the courtroom. (You don't wave to 'convicted drug dealers')

If you do end up on trial, hone your baking skills - everyone likes the juror who brings homemade cookies. (except if that juror is the one who coughs up a lung every morning while drinking what looks like the same milk as yesterday) - shout out to you Mrs. Hacking Cough in the Front Row!)

Also, just accept the fact that Juror # 9 knows everything about anything and will tell you loudly about all of it. He was a cop, he knows a cop, he lives on the same street as a guy who cuts the hair of a cops step-aunts younger brother who died. He is slightly too large to sit in his chair, and likes to harrump at any opinion that is not exactly the same as his - he will like your cookies though, but will not say so.

In closing, pick a fun word as your 'memory jogger' for trials lasting more then a few days. We used 'Superman' once - as the coke packets in the trial had a superman logo, and 'Country Club' which gives you the wrong impression - country club is actually a ridiculously cheap beer (cheaper then Natty Light) that was a huge part of a trial involving a 'former' alcoholic, laundry, a knife, and 2 people who just couldn't get their stories straight.

All in all the Jury Duty experience can be a pleasant one - i actually signed up to be called again in 2, rather then 8 years - hopefully i will get on a the case when Elliot and Olivia are there, if not - Juror #9 - i'll be looking for you.

a bit about the title

2008-05-06T11:48:00.008-04:00

A bit about our blog name...

as referenced in our first post, we spent this past Saturday on Roosevelt Island - Sil and I play on two touch football teams for a fabulous organization called Zogsports - it is a charity social league that combines playing sports, happy hours and raising money for charities you believe in.

The best part of playing on Roosevelt Island is the tram - but little did we know, the second best part is the cherry blossoms. The island was alive! with them - and we had an impromptu photo shoot with them

so we decided to start a blog, saw some cherry blossoms, and here we are. Perhaps Sil will write something more eloquent but for now, thats it.

A bit about our blog

2008-05-06T11:42:00.003-04:00

Welcome to our blog - the idea came to us this past Saturday morning as we sat in Grand Central station eating watermelon from the market, after getting free facials at Origins upstairs. Our good friend was embarking on a year long round the world trip - South America, Greece, India and beyond, and we were just excited about our trip across the river (by tram!) to Roosevelt Island for our touch football game that afternoon.

We realized adventures can be around the world in 80 days, or up to Harlem on the subway to see the Little Red Lighthouse under the Great Gray Bridge.

We don't have to leave this island to find fun, but we will sometimes - we might spend $2 we might spend $200 (Lilly Pulitzer dresses are Suze's weakness, fabulous bags are Sil's).

We are two lucky girls with a penchant for adventure and a knack for finding ourselves in curious situations - we figured we may as well start writing them down so when we are old and gray sitting on the porch of Suze's lighthouse we can remember all our fabulous times.