Monthly Archives: August 2012

Insta-Catch-Up

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I’ve been a busy little beaver as of late.

A quasi-promotion (or perhaps just a better office…) at work,

Hanging with my homies, whenever I get a break,

And being completely, utterly, infatuated with a new read.

I scurry home from work, excited to tell you about my latest run…talk about the delicious food tickling my tongue…but then Gone Girl beckons. Come closer, it cries. Suddenly 100 pages and a few hours have flown by and it’s time for bed.

Go buy it. You’ll love it. It’s thrilling, thought-provoking, and dark and twisted in all the ways I just love.

But tonight I thought I should reemerge, join the people of New York outdoors, once more.

So I grabbed this and the gals and we ventured over to the nearest theater for a little Lawless action.

Two notes:

1. Explore Rioja wines. My mother introduced me (as she has with so many things over the years) when we cuddled up at Lulu & Me earlier this summer and I’ve been a budding fanatic ever since.

Spicy, deep, a bit complex. Utterly delicious, especially this one.

2. Go see Lawless. Don’t read reviews, there’s as many goods as there are bars and no one needs the headache of trying to sort it out.

Nothing captures your imagination, steals your breath, or entertains quite like some old gunslinger action…especially when it comes with a cast overflowing with favorites (Gary Oldman, Guy Pearce, Tom Hardy, Shia LaBeouf, Jessica Chastain).

And with that, I’m trudging off to bed, book in hand, to rest up…Friday night is just around the bend ;-)

 

It’s Almost Here…

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…the end of summer. I can smell it coming. Mornings aren’t nearly as hot, evenings ever-so-slightly less thick. The clip of heels moving quicker as people have more places to go and less time to languish in the heat.

It’s tragic, really. As much as I love heavy boots and wool sweaters…I’m hardly ready to bid all my favorite summer knickknacks adieu.

Like cool breakfasts, offering their final respite before venturing out into the hot and humid streets.

My favorite flowers kissing my rooms, tabletops, and any abandoned corners a sweet hello.

Outdoor parties that begin before noon and end before sundown.

Slow evenings basking in the fading sun.

Sprinting into the salty ocean, pleading for the water to cool our toasted skin.

9 holes with dad.

Outdoor dinners huddled under shady trees.

Salty rims of sweet margaritas.

Rooftop parties, dancing under summer stars.

Sidewalk strolls, stopping only for ice cream.

And even the summer storms, singing me to sleep.

Oh summer, say you won’t go.

 

Slowdown Sunday

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Sunday is off to a slow (not in the wonderful, leisurely sense of the word but rather the “dragging my feet and struggling with the weight of my eyelids” sense) start.

Blame it on that slinky little devil Saturday night…she gets me every time.

Last night Bess and I happily accepted an invitation to a rooftop cocktail party on the lower east side.

We donned our party duds, threw bottles of chilled wine in our purses, and set off to enjoy live music, spectacular views and a bit of a rambunctious crowd.

 

 

What’s a party without a rap battle setting the mood?

 

And just when I was sure we were overrun with fun and couldn’t possibly stomach anymore…glo-bands were passed around.

Call me childish, but I dare anyone, anyone to tell me glowing in the dark doesn’t make everything better. Everyone, shrouded in the night sky, suddenly twinkling like their very own star.

We danced and drank and then drank and danced some more.

And ended the night with renditions of our favorites, sung into the New York skyline.

 

Do Excuse Me…

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but I simply have to complain. And rather patting me on the back or offering a friendly, uplifting smile, telling me to focus on the positive or seek out that sliver of a silver lining, I beg: indulge me, just this once.

I ordered a bed a month ago. A plush, queen-sized bag of feathers just begging for a snuggle.

It was supposed to come last Friday.

It didn’t.

It also didn’t come this Friday (today). Which means I can look forward to another week on an air mattress (read: stiff back, poor sleep, making me a crabby, crabby, crabby little darling).

Alright, that’s all! I’m finished! You can take your sympathy and understanding and share it with the next weary girl you come across.

Here’s how I’m combatting today’s stress.

- A good workout. After 30 minutes on the stair master, at a hodgepodge of speeds to combat boredom, I suffered through this circuit 4 times.

Followed up with a nice, slow, deep-breathing and soul-soothing stretch.

- Dark mochas shared in a dark corner of my favorite coffee shop. Laughs and chocolate…a incomparable cure.

- And of course…Friday night plans that are soon to commence!

I hope everyone’s weekend is off to a wonderful, wonderful start! If you’ve got a minute and praying is your thing, do keep in mind those affected by today’s shooting outside the Empire State building.

Confessions of a 22-Year-Old

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1. Listening to one album for a day, week, or month (morning, night, lunch breaks, workouts…) is completely normal, acceptable, and, in fact, often encouraged. It shows just the right dose of enthusiasm.

(Mumford & Sons, Sigh No More)

2. I still fall for the joke that we’re invincible. I have 2 jobs, 1 internship, and am in the midst of earning a Masters…

The only time doubt sets in is sometime around 6p.m. on Tuesdays, when, crawling into bed, I simply cannot believe Friday is still three days away.

3. The most reading I’ve done this month is Vanity Fair’s International Best Dressed List…wait, does that count as reading?

I’ve judged each and every look…from the couch in my 2005 J.Crew Christmas boxer-shorts and wool socks.

4. During my week without cable or internet, I did actually think (for a second) I might die.

5. Sometimes I listen to sad music for the sheer fact that I want to be sad. Melodrama is near second nature to a 20-something year old female.

I perform similar feats with sad books…and solo trips to the movie theater.

But cheering up is an equally simple affair. I find these people,

I eat these treats,

I head out for a run,

Or, unfailingly, I head to Pinterest to scour the pages for uplifting quotes.

 6. I pretend like I don’t notice that my legs don’t recover from these as quick as they once did (I turn a blind eye to my slowing metabolism as well).

I have many things to thank college volleyball for…

…tight IT bands and achy hips are not on the list.

7. I am not beyond temper-tantrums.

Ask either of these two…we had many growing up together. We also had a few last week, and maybe one yesterday.

8. Sometimes I feel like I’m growing up too fast.

Then I remember that nothing solves my problems like a root beer,

chocolate sundaes,

or calling my mom.

And all is right once more ;-)

Tell Me

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Tell me you haven’t forgotten…

All the meals we shared together,

 

The laughs shared over the occasional one-too-many cocktails,

 

And certainly not all those stories we whispered in one another’s ears?

 

I haven’t forgotten.

I’ve missed our chats. Dreaming of the next day’s post before bed, scurrying to type it up during my few breaks at work, editing it throughout the afternoon. And then waiting…waiting…waiting to see if anyone reads (or better yet comments!).

I promise not to go away again. I’m in my new place, and after too many hours spent in anguish waiting for a bed that didn’t come but a cable man who finally did…I’m back to the old routine.

In the days since we last saw each other,

I tried out a new (to me) dessert. Soft Serve Fruit Co’s Chocolate and Banana swirl .

Lingered over fresh sausage and crisp toast at Sarabeth’s with that little lady I’ve been missing so.

Caught up with old friends at the Sunday night Yankees-Red Sox face-off.

Nothing reminds you to slow down, sit back, and enjoy the skirting moments of summer like a baseball game.

And today?

Well today I set a personal, outdoor distance running record.

 

And now, with sufficiently toasted legs, I’m off to snuggle up on my air mattress and dream of the day my bed arrives!

To The Grocery

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As you all know…I’m moving. Given that this is New York City, however, 6 blocks is much more of a conundrum than one might expect and I’ve found myself holed up in a hotel for a few days before my new lease begins.

And what’s a girl without a fridge, pantry, or any general cooking mechanisms to do? Come up with, truly, the most gloriously well-rounded grocery list on this side of the Mississippi, of course.

Fact is, the place I call home seems to have a personal vendetta against budgets. Prices are high and seem to only creep (more like dash) higher.

But I’m not about to succumb to the shockingly, almost nauseatingly cheap junk food out there. No sir, not this girl. Instead, I plan!

I thought you other lonesome 20-somethings out there might want to take a peak inside :-) .

(click to enlarge or print!)

Now…it may seem odd that I’ve started our adventure this way.

Most people adore “shopping the edges” of the grocery store, and while I too delight in poking and pinching the best produce, I start with protein.

If I start with produce, suddenly I’m fighting my way through kale-forests or swimming through 6 lbs of grapes and I decide I simply cannot spend another dime and I leave protein-deficient.

Protein is expensive…so I get it out-of-the-way first. I scour the sales, I think about how often I’ll cook that week and I start imagining the dishes I can build around them…which streamlines these purchases as well as the produce I seek to round out my cart.

Here are some of these items I’ve picked up this summer…

Pineapple Cottage Cheese and Shop Rite (read: on.major.sale.) Greek Yogurt in perfect to-go dainty format, practically begging to be included in my lunchbox.

I’m not nearly as particular with my yogurt as I am with my small curds…it’s because, for the most part, greek yogurt is greek yogurt but cottage cheese, well that needs proper love and attention to avoid a less than stellar texture and Friendship does it right.

Hello, scrambled eggs. After just a short whisk with some milk (almond, for me), a dash of pepper, and an impossible-to-forget pinch of salt…you wake me up in all the delicious ways breakfast should.

A bit of seasoning is required here, and in perfect honestly I prefer salmon fillets. I usually prance right up to the fish man at Whole Foods and ask for 2 4 oz. wild salmon fillets (one for immediate eating and one for freezing) but these were a good change of pace for salad toppers.

And now my favorite section…

This list has the most variation. If heirloom tomatoes look good, they come home with me. If the spinach bin is low…I skip right along to the arugula. It all depends!

Sales also play a huge role. Shopping in season generally helps, because a store can mark something down it has in abundance. Another trick? Shop on Tuesdays or Wednesdays if you’re venturing to a grocery store. Produce trucks usually arrive on then, so your fruit is fresher and will last a bit longer on your counter.

The grocery simply isn’t fun if there isn’t room for a few of these…

It’s meant to be fun! …And reasonable.

This list assumes you’ve got the basics like seasonings, onions, garlic and oil…if you don’t, go get them! But wait! Not all at once! Let the collection grow as you make various dishes.

It’s a system that serves me well–I get all my favorites and there’s plenty wiggle room for spontaneity!

Any other tricks out there?

On The Prowl….

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for small, dainty, curly-haired blonde with a heart of gold and a surprisingly good singing voice…preferably named, Taylor.

You see, Taylor and I have been besties for a while, now. She took me in when I needed her most and we’ve been a done deal ever since. 

The last four years have been a long-distance love tryst. We’ve endured semesters away at school, the few months when I lived in Vietnam, and the slightly longer span of time when she took up shop in England.

Just as we were getting over the hump (college) and I thought, alas, we’d once more occupy the same city for longer than a Christmas vacation…she took a rather fabulous job with the Olympics in London.

Now before you go gasping in awe at her prowess in securing such a remarkable position…remember, she left ME behind.

How am I supposed to make friends in a new city without my partner in crime?

We met in the 7th grade, I spent the entire 8th grade trying to become friends, and after one little debacle when we were introducing each other to our fathers and I excitedly uttered, “This is my friend, Taylor” and she shuffled through a less than enthusiastic, “This is my classmate, Madison”…in the 9th grade she realized what I realized long, long before: We were soul mates.

Henceforth, we did everything together.

The usual: shopping, gossiping, snickering over secrets, watching movies, ditching gym class, and crying over broken hearts.

And the slightly…less…normal: plotting a city-wide birthday scavenger hunt, traipsing around Greece, then London, then Paris, surviving a scary bit with cancer (mine), and assigning fictional roles for each of our friends in any movies that also included friends (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, Sex and the City…). 

The list of our strange behavior and late-night phone calls is endless, so I won’t bore you with details. But needless to say, I found my other half.

 

 

 

I miss her terribly. But I’ve thrown up my hands in disgust and decided to set off in search of a substitute best friend…

So if you know anyone who can fit as big a heart in as small a package as this girl, do let me know! I’m a good friend, I promise. I like to stay up late watching movies, I’m known to show affection with baked goods, and I’m happy to share all my clothes as well as half my bed during sleepovers.

When Taylor finally assumes her rightful position (*ahem* in New York), we can all join forces as become a most lethal little trio!

So tell your friends, there’s a lonely girl in The Big Apple, scouring the streets for a best friend.

Looking Forward

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It’s a tricky deal, living in anticipation of what’s to come. Looking forward, gasping in excitement, at an abstract future.

I spend a lot of time this way: entranced with what is yet to be and somewhat ignorant of what is now.

A lot of effort goes into trying to stay in the present; to take each day in as it is rather than where it’s going…but as Mumford & Sons says in “Sigh No More”,

Man is a giddy thing, Oh man is a giddy thing…

I’m not made to stand still, it is my blessing as much as my burden. So I thought, much more lighthearted than this post has begun, that we could all indulge this predisposition of mine and shift our gaze to the days ahead and talk about what we’re chomping at the bit for.

First,

I’ve now completely blown my cover as a Mumford-crazed fan…but “I Will Wait” is the first song after their album, Babel, coming out September 24th.

It’s a dangerously well-named song, since hearing it I’ve been waiting, not even remotely patiently, for my pre-ordered copy (get yours here!) to arrive.

And second (in order, not attachment),

From the director (Joe Wright) of Atonement and Pride & Prejudice comes Anna Karenina. If no teacher ever poked and prodded you into reading Leo Tolstoy‘s brilliant work…you’ve got just about three months to do so now.

Between Keira Knightly, Jude Law, and Matthew Macfadyen it promises to be the British manifestation of my tragic, literary soul. So… please don’t ask me to do anything on November 16th. Simply put, I’m booked.

And then lastly,

(source)

Can you even believe it? I once was a firm member of the camp touting how JK Rowling should never publish again (I gave my heart to Harry long, long ago) but now that it’s on its way I have to admit…I cannot wait.

It’s a big novel about a very small and perfectly English town wrought with cobbled stone walkways and dark mysteries. Even better? Rowling seems to have aged right along with me; it’s her first novel for adults, due out September 27th.

I’ve marked my calendars, does anyone have anything else I might add?