What to report?
Friday my friend Stephanie had her bag snatched from the back of her bar stool while we were hanging out--didn't notice until much later. Greg and I considered sleeping on the street for Kevin Spacey hosting SNL--it was too wet and blustery. We were very happy with our decision, we turned it off after watching only 20 minutes--it blew.
Saturday I went to the farmer's market for my final plants of the spring gardening season and even the "crazy" farmer was very nice to me. He has piercing blue eyes, a beard down to his chest and when once asked (not by me) if his produce was organic, flew into a rage and ranted at length about how government standards of "organic" mean shit 'cause they allow more and more chemical treatment each year. (Evidently, you just have to complement his fava bean greens and he's all happy. He suggested mixing them with arugula to cut the richness. I responded by saying I'd done that last week on his son's recommendation, but this week I was going to use my own nasturtium to give it a kick. Growing my own nasturtium really raised me in his overall ranking of useless New Yorkers.)
That afternoon we went to the 9th Ave International food fest. Walked 5 miles, over the course of which we split a spit-roasted pig sandwich, sourdough olive twist, jambalaya, greek egg custard pastry, key lime pie, corn on the cob, cheesecake and copious amounts of sangria. Okay, we didn't split the sangria. Plus we had various bites of other people's food. (People we knew, thank you.)
The best thing about 9th Ave is it's still a neighborhood event--lots of old time Hell's Kitchen residents--it's kinda like a parish picnic. For example: the priest from Holy Cross makes meatball parm sandwiches, lots of neighborhood gossip and issues being discussed. Best overheard was at the Greek pastry place: "SO, one of the old-timers came in to warn us that a Turkish restaurant was going in next door. She asked if we'd be okay. NO! We're gonna shoot each otha! RELAX, they're young people, it'll be fine..."
This inspired a conversation about the kind of licensing required from the Restaurant Board in order to perform an armed takeover of the kitchen next door. If only the Armenian and Azerbijiani places would move down onto that block too. THAT would be a hoot!
Sunday: Thank you notes (I still have a week to finish according to Emily Post.), wholegrain rhubarb pancakes and naps.
Ongoing news: My husband is being stalked by the idiot fans of a morning talk radio show, which shall remain nameless, by order of one of the hosts. Thank God the phone is in my name. This way he just gets an unending stream of emails calling him a "douche-bag". To give you a hint as to which show, they were kicked off the air for a while for paying a couple to have sex in St. Patrick's Cathedral while mass was being performed. They were caught 'cause they had a sound guy there so they could cut live to the scene.
Not terribly exciting and a bit rambly, but are you happy NOW?!!! ARE YOU ART?
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