Category Archives: Uncategorized

If You Saw Atlas…

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“If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders – What would you tell him? 

I…don’t know. What…could he do? What would you tell him?”   Ayn Rand

Ernest Hemingway once wrote that the world is a fine place and worth fighting for. After yesterday, the easy thing to do is to agree with the second half, and the second half alone. The hard thing to do — in the face of unspeakable darkness — is to agree that it remains a fine place.

Know that choosing not to means choosing to ignore the heroes of yesterday; the countless bystanders, rescuers and runners who did not turn from those in need, but ran towards them.

Held them. Helped them. Saved them.

Which is mighty fine, indeed.

 

From Tequila, With Love

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I received an interesting email yesterday…

482246_4722880792395_1144299947_n[Yes, I get new twitter follower notifications. Yes, it's completely vain -- but I also have this blog which is vain in both name and nature so, I mean, really, are you surprised?]

But how did they know? And what did I do on Saturday night to tip them off?

I love tequila.

No, no…I love it.

I love it like this,

Screen shot 2013-03-11 at 10.56.25 AMlike this,

Screen shot 2013-03-11 at 10.57.58 AMAnd ooo definitely like this.

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There’s many reasons I love it — and before you start cringing and making that stupid, sour face at even the whisper of the word — let me say this: what you think is tequila is not tequila.

I know, I’m sorry. You’re whole life…it’s been a lie. You see, to be called tequila, it has to come from certain areas in Mexico — the state of Jalisco + limited regions in the states of Guanajuato, Michoacán, Nayarit, and Tamaulipas — and be made from at least 51% agave.

Cuervo Gold or that other shit you took shots of in dark, college basements is a mixto — sure, it’s 51% agave, but the other 49% is soul crushing death — sugar, caramel, bottled headache. Of course you hate tequila, but blame the fraternities, not me!

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You see the tequila I adore is a life-giver, some [just me?] even call it a ‘life affirmer’. Unlike other booze, it’s a natural upper; you don’t feel drunk, but high. Seriously.

Another reason? The next morning, while perhaps tired, you’ll be headache and nausea free! So while your friends have bagels delivered [Sam & Jenna] because walking four blocks is physically impossible, you might go running. You might hit the grocery store. Laundry? You might.

Tequila, gentleman that he is, let’s you do your thing.

And then there’s the taste! Agave is strangely awesome — tasting of sun and earth and fruit and the calculus of their combination of spice and sweet.

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Oop! Another lesson. Tequila generally comes in three forms: Blanco (also called silver), Reposado, and Anejo. Blanco is not aged, but bottled right after distillation. Reposado is aged somewhere between 8 weeks and a year in an oak cask — often one that formerly housed bourbon [can I get an amen for postcolonial cross-pollination?] — and Anejo ages at least a year but no more than three.

Note: these correspond to preference, not quality — it’s merely what you enjoy. Me? Blanco/Silver because…uhh, because I like it?

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Alright, geez, fine, one last lesson before I list my tequila. The agave takes ~8 years to fruit, during which, the plant takes up its earth. Meaning, tequila enjoys a range from highland to lowland — highland agave tends to be lighter, with more vanilla and citrus; lowlands are earthier and weightier. Choose accordingly.

*And a word about Patron: it’s fine — if you don’t want any flavor. Really, it’s for people who like saying they drank tequila but don’t actually enjoy it.

Here, then, is my list:

7 (Siete) Leguas Blanco

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It’s probably softer than you think it should be. You’ll taste the agave but, unlike some, this one melts into a vanilla that goes oh-so-nice with the desert sun [or so I imagine].

Herencia Mexicana Blanco

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This is arguably one of the more strange and distinctive things I’ve ever consumed. It’s super soft on the tongue — if I said ‘pillowy’ right now, would you get it? Or would you think I was crazy?  Whatever, I’m saying it, it’s pillowy. Yes, it’s spicy, too, and a little fruity, but mainly pillowy.

1800 Silver

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Perfect for when you’re at a girly bar where everyone else is ordering glasses of prosecco and cosmos…because that bar, that bar has this tequila and it is mighty fine. It’s smooth, a little peppery compared to the other two listed, but has a fruity after taste. I order it with seltzer and a lime and smile from ear to ear.

 

Life Lately

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…is very random.

At least, according to my iPhone.

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We moved…again. Me, from down the street. This little one, from the woodlands in Minnesota.

We also [as you can see] decided to paint one wall very, very pink. The genius you can come up with after a few too many glasses bottles of wine never ceases to amuse. 
 photo-60The same sentiment might be extended to the wall art you discover and order…[like it? me too! go on, then, get one here].

My parents, as well as Taylor’s mother and cousin, joined us for the moving process and along with schlepping to the hardware store where rousing purchases of double-sticky tape and closet lamps were made, we did some rather fun things.

Namely, eat.

Whenever someone comes to town, or whenever someone I know has someone in town, I tell them to go here–to The Standard Grill.

It’s just perfectly cozy, what with its red leather booths and big bay windows, and the food…well, it deserves each and every sigh of delight echoing through the dining room.

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There’s a whole roast chicken on the menu, hiding beneath that napkin, and let me say this: order it.

Either go alone so no one must witness you groan through its entirety single-handed, or [choose this option] find a fancy friend who’ll split it [thanks mom!].

photo-64It’s times like these I’m grateful to have so many coworkers around–licking my computer seemed like a viable option when that photo uploaded [I mean...just for a second, or so] but the threat of their petrified stares proved too much to bear.

We also cozied up in a cabana at another Meatpacking haunt, The Spice Market.

Why no photos, you ask?

Because The Spice Market, undoubtedly, is working towards lowering their electric bill and keeps their dining hall in near perfect darkness.

photo-63We remain indebted to the iPhone flashlight.

Also, to the chef–everything was delicious.

Also, to the makers of this fine product, that now lives in our kitchen [how do you feel about that transition? good? good].

photo-68Taylor’s boyfriend wormed his way into a permanent spot in my heart when he found this gem on Amazon [do the same for someone else, here].

Other fun chocolate products greasing my kitchen counters [what a terrible visual...]?

photo-59Dark Chocolate-Coconut-Almond Butter.

A few minutes of whirring in the Vitamix later, it was ready and so was I–spoon in hand.

photo-58I made more than this…significantly more, but aside from my chocolatey fingers, no one will ever know how much disappeared straight from the blender.

Aside from that, it’s been all about work.

photo-62The Golden Globes were watched, late into the night, from my desk and days later–I’ve still no signs of leaving.

What’s everyone else up to? Something infinitely more fun, I hope!

Thank You

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My best friend did something really cool…you see, this one time, she married a Marine.

It made for a magically good-looking, uniformed band of groomsmen, of course. But it also gave my awareness and gratitude for the men, women, and families serving our country [our wonderful, wonderful country] an entirely new presence.

Yesterday, Veteran’s Day, I felt a bit lost for words. I mean…you can’t very well just quip a merry “Thank You!” and shuffle along…but you also can’t expect to capture the magnanimity of their posts…

So today, happy to find someone doing things just right [and perhaps taking advantage of the fact that today is the work-holiday], I’m taking a cue from Rosie and putting Don Crawford at the helm.

Though not originally written with American troops in mind…the sentiment rings as true here as anywhere…

“Please wear a poppy,” the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street,
Bouncing along on care-free feet.
His smile was full of joy and fun,
“Lady,” said he, “may I have one?”
When she’s pinned in on he turned to say,
“Why do we wear a poppy today?”
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, “This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.
And because they did, you and I are free -
That’s why we wear a poppy, you see.
“I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
and became a man – as you will, too.
“He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he’d seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said, Goodbye,
I’ll be back soon, Mom, so please don’t cry.
“But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.
“Till at last, at last, the war was won -
And that’s why we wear a poppy son.”
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, “Thanks, lady, I’m glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son – did he come back all right?”
A tear rolled down each faded check;
She shook her head, but didn’t speak.
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me you’d have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Thought our freedom was bought – and thousands paid!
And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne,
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country’s call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember – and give!
We may not wear poppies…but we do have plenty worthy places to donate. Find my favorites here and here.  

In an Insta

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It’s been a bit since we sorted through my Instagram folder…so on this Friday, when the last shred of brainpower and undoubtedly, the final bit of wit has all but fled…let’s get to it.

Starting my day with the best of iced coffees [Irving Farm].

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Holing up with all my pretty ladies at Cask for a requisite post-hurricane coming out party.

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Following up that hurricane with a nor’easter because…well why not?

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A big box of Vemma samples, review [and excitement!] to come next week!

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Election night at Democracy Plaza [NBC Studios].
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Thousands and thousands of bikinis for that annual magazine special we all love so…making me pine for summer and an even halfway decent tan.
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And because the gods glanced down and thought I [and those around me who'd benefit from me chilling the ___ out] deserved it, a sample of Tara Stiles new home yoga series.

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I’m looking at a low-key weekend, and it couldn’t feel better.

Happy Friday!

Hanging Tight

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I’m sure you’ve heard of the tempest Sandy that’s blowing through New England.
Last night, after the power had blown and we waited for the worst to come…I faced a very unfamiliar New York.

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Dark. Blustery. Silent but for the whipping winds.
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We huddled close, whispering ghost stories and our favorite jokes, and bided our time until morning…

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When sunlight finally did come…it revealed a good bit of damage.

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The streets were littered with people, braving the winds and rain to break their cabin fevers…and for the most part spirits were high and everyone had just enough pluck to help out any needy neighbors.

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We’re bunkered down and rendered powerless, eating the spoils of our freezers and living by candle light.

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Do keep the region in your thoughts, major damage has been done and I’m beyond grateful to have come out as seamlessly as I have, with friends, warm blankets, and flickering candles.

 

I Never Meant To

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go so long without posting…You see my camera is still out of commission and I thought…who wants a post without pictures? [not I]

But then you started texting me and tweeting me and emailing me…mainly wondering if I had died but also if I fancied blogging anytime soon.

So, after far too much ado, here I am!

I thought I’d do a little round-up on what’s going on, what’s on my mind, what perhaps should be on your mind…that sort’ve thing!

1. Carine Roitfeld liked my post on instagram. Call me shameless for mentioning it here, fine. But better yet just call me a fan…and maybe give a thought to all the ways that social media has shrunk the distance between us and our idols.

2. This scarf…it still isn’t mine and I’m not sure why [my bank account, however, laughs at my ignorance]

3. The time for twinkling lights is upon us. Expect countless similar photos over the new few months [assuming my grubby little fingers find a camera to hold onto]

4. My middle- and high-schools were all-girls affairs…I played a division I women’s sport in college [volleyball]…and now I work at a predominantly male publication in a city where I don’t know so many girls…it’s been a dramatic [on my part] adjustment and all I’ll say is: I thoroughly miss sleepovers and endless reruns of The Holiday.

[from Caroline's Wedding in June]

5. I read The Casual Vacancy…[y'know...JK Rowling's new tale].

I’ve got a lot of thoughts. I actually worked very, very hard to shield myself from anyone else’s prior to reading, so I’ve got a little internal debate raging about whether or not to proffer mine..

But I mean…alright, I will. Going in I was undeniably guilty of expecting an aged-up, magicked-down Harry Potter…something showcasing Rowling’s strengths (meticulous plot creation, inventiveness, love of mischief, likable characters, a penchant for visual spectacle) and weaknesses (a profound love of adverbs) as much as HP did.

But this isn’t that. This book is big, enormous really. It’s ambitious and brilliant and funny and upsetting in, really, very eloquent ways.

It’s a novel about contemporary England (largely a satire of the small-town English life). The characters are tangled in a complex (but well conceived) web that reminds you of the delicate hand that built Harry Potter’s world–a world an entire generation (self-included) has pretty much chosen to live in.

Ultimately, her interest is in the emotional and social holes dug between us and the abominable wounds we constantly inflict on each other, always in the belief that we’re acting in righteous self-defense. In Pagford (the town) everyone believes they’re the story’s hero…but as the points of view shift relentlessly, each character is recast as traitor, villain, victim, fool, lover, and friend.

And so in some weird way…as much as it isn’t…it is Harry’s world…just without the magic. It’s a painfully arbitrary and fallen world that, without the helping hand of Albus Dumbledore, sags and cracks under its own weight.

6. That went on much longer than I originally anticipated…

[source]

7. Me, my kitchen, and I [but not my waistline] are finally ready to start testing out thanksgiving dessert recipes — feel free to link to your own favorites!

What happened in everyone else’s world? Do tell!

Remembering…

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I was going to write you a post about a new fashion magazine coming out this week…a post about my current (depressing) fitness routine…and about the lovely turn New York has taken from sweltering to fall this week…

But on a day that is undoubtedly clouding all our minds, a day consumed with memories of where you were and what you did (6th grade math class for me), it all feels a bit too flippant.

I wasn’t a New York resident then, so I don’t pretend to know the pain this day conjures up for many of my new neighbors, but I do remember being a scared, confused, and all too bewildered 12-year-old.

I’d like to take a moment to thank those who defined that day with their bravery and offer a prayer for those with an ache in their heart, throbbing for those they’ve lost.

 

Best wishes to all today!

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.