Trying Not to Embarrass Myself

Just finished Samedi the Deafness. Here's a bit from it:

"The appropriate attire for dinner is this: wear something you will not embarrass yourself in. Certainly the qualifications for wearing one garment are different from those for another. One man may look good in a smock, another in an evening gown, while a third cannot go about save in full evening dress. To each one, then, his fate." (Ball, 67).

I think I'll remember this for the rest of my life.

I literally judged a book by its cover. LITERALLY.

Reading now: Samedi the Deafness by Jesse Ball.

I got this book in the goody bag at a Paris Review party* last year and I bypassed it for the shinier books with better known authors all year. It remained, forgotten, on my bookshelf until last night when I picked it up for some light bathtime reading.

Lord. Lord. I read all night. So riveting I can barely put it down to pee.



* Note: the decadence of this party made my grandfather cranky- antics ensued. He stole a bottle of bourbon, I sassed an MTV producer, etc.

Listening to: Beggar's Banquet. After reading all night I need the Stones and this to stay awake.

I think it's time we stop, hey, what's that sound?

Seriously, though, what is it?

... I think my neighbour is up to something weird.

Goodies! Or, in which the author is NOT a schlumpy hausfrau

As I was gleefully posting pics of my stew triumph The Boy asked me, "Is this blog about the lovely food you make?"

"No. Nooo. I don't know. Maybe. Why? What?" I succinctly replied.

He pointed out that it might seem to those who don't know me (and even some who do) that all I do is schlump around the house making and eating delicious food. If only.

No, actually I do sometimes put on nice clothes and go nice places with nice people. In fact, I've been going lots of nice places lately, which has meant a run on the local Goodwill store (sorry, baby. I'm done now). Here are some of the goodies I've picked up:

Outfit 1: in which the author goes to Fashion a Cure
(check out their myspace, they're doing good work)

Vest: vintage, Dress: Old Navy, Necklace: thrifted
Purse: vintage Dooney & Burke, tights: Vera Wang.
Boots: Nicole, via T.J. Maxx

Note: I am very, very tall but not THAT tall. My bureau is very short.

Outfit 2: in which the author goes to the Union Square farmer's market and Max Brenner's for cookies and milkSweater: T.J. Maxx, Dress: vintage slip worn as dress, Tights: Vera Wang
Belt: H&M, Shoes: thrifted

A note about the slip/dress: there are many vintage clothing stores in Brooklyn. I'm sure they all have super quirky and cute owners and support local artists. But Treehouse Brooklyn might just have the quirkiest and cutest owner and their local artists might just be super awesome. Just saying. They're in hibernation now (I feel you, there, Treehouse) but still open on weekends. They also have craft classes. I predict that I will try and make it to one every week but always get distracted by something yummy.

A note about Max Brenner's: I forgot to take pictures because I was so overwhelmed by the chocolate EVERYWHERE. I am always prone to acting like a five-year-old when overexcited but I saw other, mature seeming adults getting all sorts of giddy too. So. amazing.

Outfit 3: in which the author feels like an equestrian at a housewarming/birthday party

Jacket: vintage Nordstrom's, Bag: vintage Dooney & Burke, Ring: thrifted,
Jeans: paper denim & cloth, Shirt: Hanes Her Way, Boots: Nicole via T.J. Maxx

Maybe it's because I rode horses as a kid, but, to me, there is something so beautiful about an equestrian outfit. The aesthetic is second to the utility, but the materials in the clothing should always be top notch. Like this Rag & Bone from 2007:

Delightful.

Outfit 4: In which the author misses summer and realizes she loves the color coral
Hat: Lord & Taylor, Dress: gift, Belt: thrifted
Bracelets: Pier 1 (random, I know), Shoes: boutique 9

I can't really pull off pink- I look self-conscious or uncomfortable. But coral is just far enough out that I can really love it up. I only realized how strong my affection was when I looked through these pictures and also remembered a heated argument had with The Mother re: coral vs. turquoise. We had to agree to disagree.

At any rate, here is some proof that I leave my house with semi-decent outfits and have some nice adventures. Of coure, here is also proof that I spend too much time wandering around thrift stores wondering when it will get warm again.

Stew!

So, this morning I went to our local and amazing supermarket and ate lots and lots of free samples (any grocery store worth their salt will have lots of delicious free samples). Then I trundled home in the cold with my goods to make use of them.

I chopped carrots, onions and sweet potatoes. I browned beef and sliced celery and then I put it all in a slow cooker and promptly forgot about it.
Time passed. I wrote a story about a bald frog and his wig (which blogger ERASED!!!!!). I took a nap. The Boy ordered sushi and I ate it. I read J.S. Mill's On Liberty (this led up to the nap). I played with Rue.

Suddenly, I had stew! Slow cookers are amazing...

It was very hearty.

So we had it with beer, bread and Judy Garland.


I got tulips at the market. They're from Holland.

We haven't had dessert yet, and The Boy doesn't know what it is. I love surprises even more than stew. Happy weekend, everyone.

Fort! et. al.,

I made a fort! My first fort! I'm five!

I used my mom's scarf and our down comforter. It was awesome. Also pictured- giant Sprite from Subway- more on that later.


The Boy was too tall but I let him in anyways.


And I was just right.

So... I was feeling sort of old and boring after cleaning all day yesterday (my domestic furor over the weekend left quite a mess)....

And our living room looked so empty without all the mess on the floor....

Next logical* step? A fort!

To make it a fort for grownups I added candles and wine. It didn't work. But it was still lovely.

I was a little nervous as to how to The Boy would respond to a giant fort with a cantankerous captain (me) and a capricious scout (Rue) standing guard. Although he has put up with a lot of my whims, fancies and oddities.

He didn't bat an eye, for example, when on Monday night I went on a very long but unsuccessful quest for Indian food that ended with a very, very small temper tantrum. In fact, he was lovely.

This, however, was a very spacious whim that required a password and lots of over-excited text messages throughout the day. Honestly, I don't know how he puts up with it.

But he not only remembered the password, loved the fort, but he also brought me some palak paneer with jasmine rice.

Oh yes, I think I'll keep him, I will.

(Not pictured: Rue, pouncing on our feet).

Of course, building a fort takes a lot of time and energy, so I'd gotten some rations of my own.... a meatball sub from Subway (I love Subway. Fucking love it. My dad and I used to eat there after Wendy's closed their AWESOME salad bar).

I ate that too. And drank all the Sprite. And ate a cookie. And some Doritos. I was very full and sleepy by the end of the night.

Of course, now is the time to take down the fort. I know that. But I think I'll just leave it up for a a little bit. Or a normal bit. Or forever.

*I admit this might be my own special brand of logic, but it works for me.

Congratulations, America. Have a blintz.

I am giddy. Not only is history being made today, but we celebrated the mark Martin Luther King left on our history with a long weekend, and it was awesome.

Starting from the beginning.

Friday night I made lasagna, using this recipe with several alterations. Instead of sausage and ground beef I used GimmeLean sausage, because I'm a freaking hippy. Also, I used some fresh basil instead of dried because I had it in the fridge.
I do not exaggerate when I say that it was mind-blowingly good. With wine (Chianti, to be specific), and salad: delicious.

Saturday was MTV friend's housewarming/birthday party and it too was mind-blowingly good. Red Bull reps showed up at one point and brought backpacks full of Red Bull with them and then did some def-jam poetry. I kid you not. I also met a f to the abulous gentleman who lives out in the 'burbs near me whose boyfriend is, apparently, a great cook. I don't think he believed me when I said I was planning on moving in with them.

This is a picture of her wall. Some cried Smurf, but I love it to death.


So, very late Saturday night a couple of my fellow guests and I bumbled our way to Brooklyn to snuggle into our gracious host's enormous bed and sleep well into Sunday.
Alas, I'd had some plans that I failed to keep Sunday morning, but my friends cheered me up with a delicious $12 brunch at Harefield Road. $12 for a delicious meal, Barry's Irish Breakfast Tea (or coffee) and a mimosa or bloody Mary= very excited me. Also, the Bloody Marys are perfect: spicy and heavily garnished.

Then it was back to the Boy and Rue, who I missed very much.

Wouldn't you?

Monday morning I was filled with warm, fuzzy, Patriotic feelings and decided there was no better way to celebrate Obama's coming inauguration, Martin Luther King's life and the leftover ricotta than... blintzes. That's right, blintzes.
I use recipes as guidelines, not rules, but my blintzes were a version of these. I made a ricotta/cream cheese blend for filling and substituted Rice Milk (ref. see lasagna, freaking hippy). I also only used 3/4 of a cup of milk, and then 1/2 a cup of seltzer water. This is a good trick for pancakes, too, since it makes them super fluffy and delicious. By the way, I'm a very messy cook.

But they came out well, regardless.

The Boy's mother makes a blueberry compote that we heated and put on top and it is so. good.

Now, of course, it's back to everyday life, but I think it will be a little better since the change we believed in is now, and it's happening. Congratulations, America. Have a blintz.

Cheerful Things

So. Rue had to go to the vet today which has put me into a very. grouchy. mood. No one is safe- fellow drivers on the road, my mother's facebook friends, anyone. So I've decided to list things that cheer me up in order to distract myself and get some perspective.

I present, in no particular order:

Tropical Nights

Mountains

Dancing

Late night city adventures in odd bars

And, most of all:

Childhood best friends, pretty dresses


Artistic friends, birds


Far-away friends, Boston


Good friends, warm places


Old friends, familiar places


Blurry friends, champagne


Boyfriends, beer

I feel better. Nothing can get me down now; not broken eggs, stubbed toes, sick cats or Christina Aguilera's crippling addiction to self-tanner.

A Not at All Deserved Rest

Since getting back from my flurry of party time in the city I have been taking an ill-deserved rest, sitting around snuggling with the cat, eating nice breakfasts and perusing the internet. My apartment is suffering. Just because I've been lounging around not brushing my hair doesn't mean my little home has to be disgusting.

Now I have to snap out of it though because Rue is sick and I am frantic. I am so effing obsessed with my cat. We are off to the vet and then I will run much needed errands and become a productive human being again while my cat has a very. bad. day. at the vet and I try very hard not to think too much about it.

In the meantime, I'm also very sad because Christina Aguilera was really rocking the pinup girl style and I thought it was gorgeous. Now she looks like Lady Gaga had a baby with an Oompa Loompa. And I say that with the fondest regards towards both Lady Gaga and Oompa Loompas.

Zen Gardens and other Bullshit

So this morning I got up, had some green tea and vitamins, did some yoga, meditated, and am now sitting drinking lemon water with the cat on my lap looking deeply into my eyes.

Now I am off to frolick in a Zen Garden , commune with some unicorns, smile beatifically, and beat myself over the head for the good of mankind.

This shit is bananas.

Just got back from a flurry of activity in the city. Much time spent in front of flashing bulbs hoping my bra strap wasn't showing and my smile wasn't creepy.

Also got to see an old friend from Atlanta, which was so lovely. Atlanta is the most personable person I know, so spending time with her means meeting a lot of people, which was wonderful and something I need to get better at.

While in the city my beautiful, funny gracious and perpetual host* (I am so familiar with her pullout couch) took me to the best place in the world.

Well, maybe not the best place in the world, but it felt that way to Atlanta, who was hungover, and I, who had forgotten what food tasted like.

5-Napkin Burger. Glorious 10 oz. burgers with the most delicious sauce with caramelized onions. AND they have the best veggie burger in the world, as confirmed by My Perpetual Host who is a vegetarian. I almost wish I'd ordered it, it was that good.

After all the loveliness, I was ready to go home to the Boy and Rue! I missed my guys so much and, even though The Boy will be intolerable if he reads this, it was kind of nice to bugger off and get just outside the city.

*She is so lovely and funny that it would be easy to hate her but she's just too damn sweet.

3 Things I Love

1) my current situation. I am drinking coffee (!!!) and listening to NPR with a cat on my lap. Bliss.

2) Polka dots. I have a flaming love of dots*. I saw this on style.com and was very pleased. I love, love, love the Valentino number, and I dig the flapper-clown vibe that a lot of designers had ie Adam, Undercover, Betsey Johnson (although Ms. Johnson also had some, um, pirates on her runway. Really, Betsey? Really? No one loves playing pirate more than I do but... your male models were all either way too excited or totes embarrassed).

3) Alec Baldwin. I can't find the clip online, but the Fug girls' description of him on the red carpet of the Golden Globes made me want to run up, hug him and then hand him a scotch and a megaphone.

*My love for dots is a flickering Zippo light compared to the bonfire that rages in the heart of my MTV employed friend. All her bedrooms have been be-polkaed and I expect the room premiering in her upcoming housewarming/birthday party (I can't stop calling it a birthwarming party, MTV friend) will be no exception. The question is, what do I get her that is both covered in dots and also something she doesn't already have? In her words, "Aaaaaah, I just fucking love dots!"

An excellent midnight

12:00pm, midnight: end of week-long detox diet
12:01pm: welcome toxins! The most delicious glass of champagne I have ever tasted.

I am very grateful to The Boy, who not only poured the champagne but was sweet to me all week, as I was sorely lacking in dairy, gluten, caffeine and manners.

I found this video earlier in the week, and the hats have been haunting me ever since. I just want one.



I think I love them.

Listening to now: My Fair Lady Soundtrack

Reading now: This Side of Paradise, after abandoning it for months at the tail end of a summer long Fitzgerald binge. What a strange story this is.

New Year's Eve!

New Year's Eve Party

So, my glamourous High School Friend just posted some pics from The Boy and my NYE party that she took with her fancy new camera. The party was lovely- friends, champagne, sushi and black dresses = fab.

Also, my shoes.

Farthest right.

And necklaces.


My dress. It used to be a puffy skirted debutant dress (I love clothes with stories, even if I make them up) but I altered it and it came out like this:


Unfortunately, I kept the corset ribbing, which was less than comfortable, so I changed.

Much more conducive to dancing.

Also conducive to dancing:

Secret Love

So, call it pleasure-deprivation, but I've decided to come out and say it. I love loafers. And moccasins. And all men's style shoes.

In fact, because I have such large, large feet I wear men's shoes from time to time. My best friend from High School is very stylish and turned me on to docksiders. Very exciting new territory.

At any rate, I was browsing Tod's website and I found these.

I can see it now- I'd try them on and go back and forth between the ridiculous blue ones and the sensible brown ones. As is so rarely true, the sensible option would win as images of baggy sweaters and slouchy jeans rolled through my head. We'd have a few good years together, and it would be a beautiful love story that would end with frantic calls to local cobblers, tears, mangled glue attempts and the seven stages of grief.

P.S. Got a lovely mention on Armchair Travel. Any literary types like me would do well to peruse old entries.


Listening to now: Little Honey by Lucinda Williams. Way better than the critics say, not nearly as good as her older albums.

Thought for the day.

I want that.

Late Night Hookah Adventures

During our week in the city, The Boy and I got restless late one night (or early one morning as some would call it) and decided to go on An Adventure. After some misadventures with the subway we arrived at the Hookah Cafe on East 60th.

I own a hookah but I'd never been to a hookah bar before, and this was a great intro. The staff was delightful- they make their own tobaccos and they're delicious. They also have a menu of yummy Middle Eastern beverages and appetizers- we had tea and coffee (not a good idea at 3 in the morning but so good).

The Boy lived in Israel for a while, and was excited to find authentic Arabic coffee. I was excited to find good, fresh mint tea.

Being the only customers late at night, we ended up chatting with the owner who was very interesting- he took us to the back to see all the tobaccos and pipes and told us about importing ingredients. All around a lovely late night adventure.

The Last Hurrah

Sunday, January 4, 2009: The Last Hurrah.

Obviously, the holidays, New Year's and that funny space between the two were a total binge-fest for me- champagne, cookies, egg nog and lots of other lovelies.
To make it all the more delicious, The Boy and I spent the week of NYE at the Bryant Park Hotel snuggling in bed, having delicious breakfasts delivered every morning (or early afternoon as some people might call it) and going out to gorgeous dinners every night. Throw in a NYC hot dog here and there and the end of the holidays find me shocked that it isn't normal to eat whatever you want whenever you want all year long.

In the face of upcoming public appearances, I asked my cousin and aunt about the Master Cleanse they'd gone on last Christmas. "It's not that bad," they said, "By day 4 it's easy."

What, I asked, about the first four days? Are you starving? "No," they replied, "it's not that you're hungry so much as thinking about food all the time. Sort of like you're a rabid animal."

Beg pardon? "Yeah, and drinking the glass full of salt water kind of sucks. But it's important to clean out your bowels."

Come again? "The lemonade you drink is good, though. And you feel a lot better after you have some. If I had to only have one thing for 10 days, I could do a lot worse. "

Oh bugger fuck that. More power to you, but I just like chewing.

So. Instead, I'm doing some almost-as-ridiculous cleansing diet a la yoga masters, hermits, Gwyneth Paltrow, whippets (the dog, not the bizarre huffing practice) etc. No dairy, grains with gluten, meat, shellfish, processed food, fatty nuts, nightshades (potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and eggplant), condiments, sugar, alcohol, caffiene, soda or pleasure.

I am now onto day 2 of said cleanse. It is not a fast, but some equally unpleasant nonsense that is working already. The skeptical part of my brain is more than a little annoyed at being proven wrong.

Naturally, I had to say goodbye to my loved ones so on Sunday morning The Boy surprised me with mimosas and a beautiful breakfast. Then, that night, we had a fantastic meal and, most importantly, dirty martinis. It is painful to even look at these photos, so I'm just going to post them quick-quick and then go have some effing pro-biotic smoothie.


Lord.

Christmas Loot!

So, here's all what I got for Christmas. Like most people, my lovelies and I were doing Christmas on a smaller scale this year but neither of my parents were able to let go of the spirit completely.

Of course, every year my mom says Christmas is going to be small and nothing special and it always ends up wonderful and this year was no exception. She and I were up until 3am Christmas Eve wrapping presents and drinking these so we got into the (very!) festive spirit early.

My dad was surprisingly jolly- ever since our apartment burned down on Christmas Day 1995 (we all escaped unscathed) he's been a little sour on the holidays but this year he showed up wearing a Santa Hat with a big smile and a bag of presents to match.

I myself did pretty well with Christmas shopping- I only bought two on Christmas Eve. The rest I bought the 23rd.

But never mind what I gave, here's what I got!

Some of my favorite perfume from Dad.
Something about this smells very sweater-girl
fresh and clean.


A favorite. Gorgeous, vintage and long-coveted bag from Mom. Also from Mom, some beautiful pictures from my favorite children's book
The Lonely Doll. These are going to look amazing in my boudoir.




Some close-ups of my latest decorating challenge.


A fantastic hand-me-down from Mom. As an only child,
I don't have any complexes about hand-me-downs. In
fact, they might be my favorite way of getting clothing.
Lucky for me, almost all the women in my family have
impeccable taste (Mom, I forgive you for your mullet)

.
A lovely surprise from our post-Christmas escape Hotel Staff along with
my reading material from the trip.



The big present from The Boy. This gorgeous locket from Tiffany's. This cannot go on (oh please let it go on) or my transformation into a spoiled brat will be complete- Tiffany's and a kitten?