This morning I had to do a site visit in Sunset Park, my old neighborhood in Brooklyn. (By the way, harborfront industrial property is not necessarily where you want to be when it's 20 degrees and the wind is gusting to 50 mph.) However, after we finished walking the area we went up to 39[th Street] Donuts--coffee shop of fame which I believe several of you may have visited when visiting me, if only because Jen and I ate there 4 times a week. I was a little afraid it would be different and in a couple of ways it was: there are new menus and new waitresses, but the chopped steak sandwich tasted just as delicious as always, Mike the fry cook was still there AND he RECOGNIZED ME after 5 years. There were kisses, a chopped steak to take back for Greg and free donuts for my colleague and me. I'm still tickled to no end that he remembered me!
Anyway, I'm off to the homeland tomorrow...I have a flight booked for 7:30 pm (no, I have no idea what I was thinking) so I'll be attempting to fly standby on an 11:15 flight. Cross your fingers for me, folks.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Monday, March 07, 2005
"Historical Context," ever heard of it?
So, this guy from Entertainment Weekly, Chris Nashawaty, reviewed the new release of "Bambi" for NY1, the local news station. He goes off on how it's a wonder that we all weren't scarred for life given the darkness of the movie even before Bambi's mother is shot offscreen (wolves attack, bucks fight, there's a forest fire) and he can't imagine what the Disney people were thinking when they decided to show this much bad stuff to little kids.
Bambi was made in 1942. Ummm, it's pretty likely that the kids in the theaters already knew that the world was a pretty freakin' dark place. After all, a good number of them were living with the definite possiblity that they would have a parent killed, by a gun, offscreen. The point of Bambi is that even when terrible things happen, you can survive and be okay.
Bambi was made in 1942. Ummm, it's pretty likely that the kids in the theaters already knew that the world was a pretty freakin' dark place. After all, a good number of them were living with the definite possiblity that they would have a parent killed, by a gun, offscreen. The point of Bambi is that even when terrible things happen, you can survive and be okay.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Flummoxed once again...
I went to book group last night (I don't know why they changed it to Thursday either.) and the book discussion was fine, but then we got into the "New Super Strain of HIV" discussion--HIV is often a topic when you have an AIDS researcher in the group. Anyone has a question or Rowena does a new conference and we're off and running.
We're all fairly well-educated individuals so imagine the reaction when the one guy in the group asked how women got it if they didn't shoot up since it can only be transmitted through blood. Ummmm...and semen. "It's not in semen!" he exclaimed with belligerent certainty.
I thought the researcher was going to cry simply because this 39-year-old attorney didn't understand what "sexually transmitted disease" meant. Oh, and then, because women are more likely get it than men from heterosexual sex he compounded his stupidity and asked if that's because we have an "open wound".
Suffice it to say, I now know an incredible lot about virus tissue preferences, cell layers in delicate areas, micro-frissions caused by intercourse and the virus killing action of saliva.
Mockery from everyone but the researcher aside, and there was quite a lot of it, it was not one of the more uplifting endings to a book group.
We're all fairly well-educated individuals so imagine the reaction when the one guy in the group asked how women got it if they didn't shoot up since it can only be transmitted through blood. Ummmm...and semen. "It's not in semen!" he exclaimed with belligerent certainty.
I thought the researcher was going to cry simply because this 39-year-old attorney didn't understand what "sexually transmitted disease" meant. Oh, and then, because women are more likely get it than men from heterosexual sex he compounded his stupidity and asked if that's because we have an "open wound".
Suffice it to say, I now know an incredible lot about virus tissue preferences, cell layers in delicate areas, micro-frissions caused by intercourse and the virus killing action of saliva.
Mockery from everyone but the researcher aside, and there was quite a lot of it, it was not one of the more uplifting endings to a book group.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
The Balance Struck...
Rehearsal in the apartment last night. Thank God for earplugs...I was totally able to read my book club book (I'm struggling with it) without being distracted. I could only hear them when the pitch became very high or something sounded wrong, which in the end, was a good thing. My "notes" were based solely on things that broke the sound flow--it was a kind of interesting experiment.
I must admit, I like the current situation: Greg's gotten over his possessiveness of the show, and I've proven in the past that my criticisms are sound, so now they both ask for my opinion of how things are working or not. Whereas for the first show, Greg didn't want to hear anything I had to say about it. At one point, they went to a professional whose critique ended up being almost identical (with a few additions) to my own. Greg told me how great the pros comments were and I laughed and laughed. He was confused, I explained. It eventually sunk in, hmmm, despite not being an "actor" Tina has tons of experience with stage shows--oh, and she's free. So now I comment when asked or something sounds very wrong, they listen and use or discard as they will.
I must admit, I like the current situation: Greg's gotten over his possessiveness of the show, and I've proven in the past that my criticisms are sound, so now they both ask for my opinion of how things are working or not. Whereas for the first show, Greg didn't want to hear anything I had to say about it. At one point, they went to a professional whose critique ended up being almost identical (with a few additions) to my own. Greg told me how great the pros comments were and I laughed and laughed. He was confused, I explained. It eventually sunk in, hmmm, despite not being an "actor" Tina has tons of experience with stage shows--oh, and she's free. So now I comment when asked or something sounds very wrong, they listen and use or discard as they will.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Hmmm...
This morning on my way to work, I saw a woman come out of the "Teddy Roosevelt Birthplace". She was wearing leggings and a shiny metallic green puffy coat, was overly made up, and the true oddity, she was carrying both a camera and small sledge hammer.
I'm still trying to figure out the circumstances under which that would be appropriate attire.
I'm still trying to figure out the circumstances under which that would be appropriate attire.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Today in NYC History
I was reminded this morning that on this date in 1997, the early afternoon sun was suddenly covered by very heavy clouds (at least given the tiny view from our 75th St. window) thus causing Ms. Weber and I to cancel our plans to go to the Empire State Building observation deck.
The shooting started a mere 2 hours later.
The shooting started a mere 2 hours later.
Friday, February 04, 2005
A request from my mom...
Medicare no longer covers mammograms or checkups. It also does not cover hearing aids or glasses. Budget cuts you know.
Know what it does cover? Viagra.
Evidently the health/safety aren't as important as getting laid.
Her request: "Will you get up on your high horse and send some emails for me?"
Know what it does cover? Viagra.
Evidently the health/safety aren't as important as getting laid.
Her request: "Will you get up on your high horse and send some emails for me?"
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
What are the odds?
My brother was called in for jury duty Monday. Exactly one week after I was. Guess what trial he was interviewed for?
The Hirte murder trial.
He was found unsuitable and excused.
Both of us, 1000 miles apart, called for jury duty within one week, interviewed for a murder trial and excused.
The Lund kids are doggin' legal bullets right and left.
The Hirte murder trial.
He was found unsuitable and excused.
Both of us, 1000 miles apart, called for jury duty within one week, interviewed for a murder trial and excused.
The Lund kids are doggin' legal bullets right and left.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Mark Green's a Prick
Monday, reported for jury duty. Criminal court. NOT a lot of fun. Called to the box twice to be questioned by the judge and attorneys.
First case: felony murder, not a capital trial. Double homicide for pay with a physically unharmed 3-year-old witness. Based upon a question that was asked before we'd heard the full circumstances of the case, I said that I felt that being the lookout (the defendant) and being the trigger man were two different things. I was so out of there at that point, the defense didn't bother questioning me.
Yesterday's case: 3rd degree possession and sale of cocaine. Really thought I was gonna be on that one, until some guy in the jury pool said that he'd spoken to the defendant in the case in the men's room during the break. Not sure if it was that, or the general dislike in the pool of the Rockefeller drug laws that got us all sent home.
Interesting psychological and sociological event. Monday, I was actually rather proud of the system--the group I was with seemed to comprehend the import of having someone's life in your hands and people were taking the questions really seriously, with the exception of the titular public official who threw a fit (slamming his papers, etc.) after being told that he couldn't be excused from a 3-week trial because of his job. Tuesday, I was sickened: both by people who suddenly didn't speak English any longer (after having overheard complex conversations in the jury room) and the guy who sought out the defendant in order to be excused, but more so by the people who thought they were "fantastic" for having come up with the excuses. The system is messed up enough as it is...you don't need to make it worse.
Came back to work to smell a dead mouse somewhere under my desk. It may have been removed, but I've got the sneaking suspicion it's still behind the file cabinets or something.
First case: felony murder, not a capital trial. Double homicide for pay with a physically unharmed 3-year-old witness. Based upon a question that was asked before we'd heard the full circumstances of the case, I said that I felt that being the lookout (the defendant) and being the trigger man were two different things. I was so out of there at that point, the defense didn't bother questioning me.
Yesterday's case: 3rd degree possession and sale of cocaine. Really thought I was gonna be on that one, until some guy in the jury pool said that he'd spoken to the defendant in the case in the men's room during the break. Not sure if it was that, or the general dislike in the pool of the Rockefeller drug laws that got us all sent home.
Interesting psychological and sociological event. Monday, I was actually rather proud of the system--the group I was with seemed to comprehend the import of having someone's life in your hands and people were taking the questions really seriously, with the exception of the titular public official who threw a fit (slamming his papers, etc.) after being told that he couldn't be excused from a 3-week trial because of his job. Tuesday, I was sickened: both by people who suddenly didn't speak English any longer (after having overheard complex conversations in the jury room) and the guy who sought out the defendant in order to be excused, but more so by the people who thought they were "fantastic" for having come up with the excuses. The system is messed up enough as it is...you don't need to make it worse.
Came back to work to smell a dead mouse somewhere under my desk. It may have been removed, but I've got the sneaking suspicion it's still behind the file cabinets or something.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Education I wish I'd had...
We watched a documentary last night about Albert Cullum, a man in Rye, New York who was a totally innovative elementary school teacher. In the 60's, he taught through games, acting and most of all, through the three "Ss": Sophocles, Shakespeare and Shaw.
He had 3rd graders performing Julius Caesar and 4th graders performing Romeo and Juliette. Evidently "age 10 is the best time for a girl to play St. Joan" because "she can still hear Sts Mary and Margaret talking to her". They had footage of a lot of the performances and they were astounding. What was really amazing is it was obvious they understood what they were saying. He'd start by telling them the basic story and then would have them learn the vocabulary by using the words in place of more common ones (e.g., instead of saying something "stinks" it "reeks to heaven") and they'd get it.
His theory was that they hadn't been taught to be afraid of it yet, so they completely embraced the melodrama of the stories and that once they'd played these heroic characters, it couldn't help but make them feel heroic themselves.
And yes, he was a failed actor.
He had 3rd graders performing Julius Caesar and 4th graders performing Romeo and Juliette. Evidently "age 10 is the best time for a girl to play St. Joan" because "she can still hear Sts Mary and Margaret talking to her". They had footage of a lot of the performances and they were astounding. What was really amazing is it was obvious they understood what they were saying. He'd start by telling them the basic story and then would have them learn the vocabulary by using the words in place of more common ones (e.g., instead of saying something "stinks" it "reeks to heaven") and they'd get it.
His theory was that they hadn't been taught to be afraid of it yet, so they completely embraced the melodrama of the stories and that once they'd played these heroic characters, it couldn't help but make them feel heroic themselves.
And yes, he was a failed actor.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Weirdslo (part 2)
Sunday I returned. This time with Greg.
I had told him about the experience, but not where it occurred. We'd been through 7 floors by the time we got there, so he'd forgotten about it and I honestly didn't remember exactly which room it was. He went into 1119 ahead of me. I followed and experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach (really quite mild by Friday's standards). I was barely through the door though when he spun around and said, "Maybe it's the light, but I DON'T like this room. Let's go." He grabbed my arm and walked me out.
He later likened the experience to being outside the door of the hospital room of someone about to die. (He worked in a couple in college, so he's very familiar with the premonition/event.) I can't tell you how vindicated I feel. The other woman on Friday could have been crying about something entirely different, so it could have been just me. We discussed at length and agreed paranormal or physiological, (some type of mold?) but whatever it was, it was definitely very real.
Now it's time for fun research on the event! I have high hopes for the suicide of a "woman editor" in 1957.
I had told him about the experience, but not where it occurred. We'd been through 7 floors by the time we got there, so he'd forgotten about it and I honestly didn't remember exactly which room it was. He went into 1119 ahead of me. I followed and experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach (really quite mild by Friday's standards). I was barely through the door though when he spun around and said, "Maybe it's the light, but I DON'T like this room. Let's go." He grabbed my arm and walked me out.
He later likened the experience to being outside the door of the hospital room of someone about to die. (He worked in a couple in college, so he's very familiar with the premonition/event.) I can't tell you how vindicated I feel. The other woman on Friday could have been crying about something entirely different, so it could have been just me. We discussed at length and agreed paranormal or physiological, (some type of mold?) but whatever it was, it was definitely very real.
Now it's time for fun research on the event! I have high hopes for the suicide of a "woman editor" in 1957.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Weirdslo
Walking past the Gramercy Park Hotel this morning, I saw signs all over the place for a public liquidation sale in their annex. Evidently the hotel, a City Landmark, is being gut-renovated, so they're selling all of their furniture, fixtures, everything. I went in.
In 10 floors of shabby, slightly dilapidated rooms, most of it was pretty crappy stuff--60's to 80's cheap hotel furniture--but here and there, there were just beautiful deco fixtures and occasionally, nice period furniture. You could see how great the hotel must have been in its day and it made you sad to see the condition it is in now. So despite the sense of camaraderie amongst the intrepid folks going through the rooms on each floor and three really cool pieces of cobalt glass I left with, the overall experience was slightly depressing.
But on the 11th Floor, it got weird. Came out of the stairwell, went through a couple of rooms--same as all the others--then I got to one at the end of the hall. I went in and after looking around for a minute, suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of sorrow and loss. You know the crushing feeling in your chest that you get when someone you really love dies? That was how it felt--it hurt to breathe. I left the room, and while the general melancholy remained, I was totally fine. I continued through other rooms on the floor without incident. However, on my way back to the staircase, I passed a woman (I'd her seen several times over the course of the walk-through and even chatted with her in passing) coming out of the sad room. She was crying. Hard. I didn't say anything to her, but saw her a couple more times on other floors and she seemed okay. So, my question is:
What the hell happened in that room, that it had such an emotional effect?
Would it be too bizarre to stop by the hotel's concierge desk on the way home and ask about the room? Or, perhaps, if Greg is feeling well enough tomorrow, we'll go through it together and we'll see if it happens again with him there--I just have to remember not to tell him about it in order to not influence the outcome.
Regardless of what happens, I'm still going to the main hotel liquidation February 3rd.
In 10 floors of shabby, slightly dilapidated rooms, most of it was pretty crappy stuff--60's to 80's cheap hotel furniture--but here and there, there were just beautiful deco fixtures and occasionally, nice period furniture. You could see how great the hotel must have been in its day and it made you sad to see the condition it is in now. So despite the sense of camaraderie amongst the intrepid folks going through the rooms on each floor and three really cool pieces of cobalt glass I left with, the overall experience was slightly depressing.
But on the 11th Floor, it got weird. Came out of the stairwell, went through a couple of rooms--same as all the others--then I got to one at the end of the hall. I went in and after looking around for a minute, suddenly felt an almost overwhelming sense of sorrow and loss. You know the crushing feeling in your chest that you get when someone you really love dies? That was how it felt--it hurt to breathe. I left the room, and while the general melancholy remained, I was totally fine. I continued through other rooms on the floor without incident. However, on my way back to the staircase, I passed a woman (I'd her seen several times over the course of the walk-through and even chatted with her in passing) coming out of the sad room. She was crying. Hard. I didn't say anything to her, but saw her a couple more times on other floors and she seemed okay. So, my question is:
What the hell happened in that room, that it had such an emotional effect?
Would it be too bizarre to stop by the hotel's concierge desk on the way home and ask about the room? Or, perhaps, if Greg is feeling well enough tomorrow, we'll go through it together and we'll see if it happens again with him there--I just have to remember not to tell him about it in order to not influence the outcome.
Regardless of what happens, I'm still going to the main hotel liquidation February 3rd.
Friday, December 31, 2004
I hate hypocrites.
Did you all see that the House wants to "relax" its ethics standards? Here's the link to the Washington Post article. Gee, they feel it's their right to tell the rest of us how to live our personal lives--they just don't want to be able to be censured for things like embezzlement and fraud.
Oh, they also want to be able to have any family member accompany them for free on official trips. How many "nieces" do you think will be going on humanitarian missions to Aruba?
Oh, they also want to be able to have any family member accompany them for free on official trips. How many "nieces" do you think will be going on humanitarian missions to Aruba?
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Holiday Delirium!
Yes, it's time for the holiday update!
I went home for Christmas while Greg stayed here to hang with his grandmother. Sucky, but understandable. He truly missed me though--not only did he get an absolutely inspired gift, but he swept and dusted his "den" AND cleaned out the refrigerator.
The trip home was nice, but it always seemed like we were 15 minutes away from more people coming over. Plus my sinuses completely floored me on Christmas Eve morning. Luckily Ann and Jordyn rode to my rescue, picked up some drugs and after a quick nap, I was right as rain.
Some good gifts, lots of Tom and Jerrys, it was a nice time. Best part was probably watching "The Canterville Ghost" circa 1944 with Mom and Kari and partially Haru. Very mellow and VERY cute. I'd highly recommend it.
Oh, other wackiness to report: my brother, Scrooge Incarnate, showed up with a Santa hat on for Christmas Eve--cohabitation obviously agrees with him; and Aidan Kropidlowski (son of Stacy Ertmer Kropidlowski nee Verwiel) is doing very well, is VERY cute and, while the spitting image of his father, does have the Verwiel cleft in his chin. If you can see the dent in the very round face of a 3-month-old, how deep is it gonna be by the time he's an adult? My guess: through to the other side of his neck.
Got back Monday, whirl of work craziness which will continue through New Year's Eve. Somehow, we're squeezing in Greg's brother-in-law's gig in the Village tonight, dim sum with Eric on Saturday (our little New Year's tradition) and I'm making a birthday dinner for Greg's younger sister on Sunday. I have book group on Monday and then drinks with Jen on Wednesday.
I'm feeling quite popular, yet quite exhausted. I wonder if the little elves will come to do my laundry? Regina's back on Monday too. I wonder what she's going to say to David and I taking the rest of the month off?
Happy New Year!
I went home for Christmas while Greg stayed here to hang with his grandmother. Sucky, but understandable. He truly missed me though--not only did he get an absolutely inspired gift, but he swept and dusted his "den" AND cleaned out the refrigerator.
The trip home was nice, but it always seemed like we were 15 minutes away from more people coming over. Plus my sinuses completely floored me on Christmas Eve morning. Luckily Ann and Jordyn rode to my rescue, picked up some drugs and after a quick nap, I was right as rain.
Some good gifts, lots of Tom and Jerrys, it was a nice time. Best part was probably watching "The Canterville Ghost" circa 1944 with Mom and Kari and partially Haru. Very mellow and VERY cute. I'd highly recommend it.
Oh, other wackiness to report: my brother, Scrooge Incarnate, showed up with a Santa hat on for Christmas Eve--cohabitation obviously agrees with him; and Aidan Kropidlowski (son of Stacy Ertmer Kropidlowski nee Verwiel) is doing very well, is VERY cute and, while the spitting image of his father, does have the Verwiel cleft in his chin. If you can see the dent in the very round face of a 3-month-old, how deep is it gonna be by the time he's an adult? My guess: through to the other side of his neck.
Got back Monday, whirl of work craziness which will continue through New Year's Eve. Somehow, we're squeezing in Greg's brother-in-law's gig in the Village tonight, dim sum with Eric on Saturday (our little New Year's tradition) and I'm making a birthday dinner for Greg's younger sister on Sunday. I have book group on Monday and then drinks with Jen on Wednesday.
I'm feeling quite popular, yet quite exhausted. I wonder if the little elves will come to do my laundry? Regina's back on Monday too. I wonder what she's going to say to David and I taking the rest of the month off?
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 13, 2004
Greg and Tina's Birthday Extravaganza
The restaurant is Fleur de Sel, fairly near our apartment, and I've wanted to try it for ages. This year, Greg made the reservation. By the time Saturday night rolled around, we'd been looking forward to our birthday dinner for 3 weeks and expectations were terribly high. The restaurant itself was incredibly warm and we were there for almost 4 hours. In the end, we spent just about TWICE our monthly grocery budget on one meal--a somewhat daunting amount and we've regretted spending less than half that on a birthday dinner.
This meal, this experience, was totally and completely worth every penny.
Six course tasting menu with wine pairings. Two choices for all but the cheese course. Between us, we tried everything on the menu--11 different dishes. 11 different wines. The food itself was very, very good. The food in conjunction with the wine pairings was absolute genius. The wine brought out the best in the food and vice versa. (Even the way dessert wines were excellent with the food and we hate them as a rule.) I won't bore you with the complete run-down of all 11 dishes, but will give some of the highlights:
Spanish makeral tartare, creme fresh, American paddlefish caviar with a french white--the combination of tartare, creme and caviar was really great.
Fluke with couscous with dried cranberries and pine nuts with port sauce, Chateauneuf-du-Pape--absolutely brilliant.
Wild Striped Bass with spinach and fingerling potatoes with balsamic sauce, something also red--also incredible.
New Zealand Venison (medium rare) with a smoked sausage/celery root gratin that was completely inspired, served with a red wine sauce. With this there was a Long Island Cabernet franc that was unbelievable, really herbal/piney smelling, with an incredibly buttery mouth feel.
Cheese Course: Vermont cow's milk cheese (very Manchego-like) with quince paste, seriously aged balsamic and caraway toasts--I remember nothing about the red that accompanied it other than it was very good. Oh, and the caraway toasts arrived in bed--seriously, they were lying on a folded napkin on a plate that made it appear that they were tucked between the sheets. It was quite adorable.
Dessert Course:
Tina: banana mouse and cafe creme. Totally covered with whipped cream, so you never knew what flavor you were getting next--wine was a semillon that was standard dessert wine (yucky) on it's own, but when sipped after a bite of the dessert, tasted like liquid caramel.
Greg: dark chocolate gaufrette (crispy cookie) with chocolate ganache and chocolate ice cream. Here too there were different areas of flavor in the creams, some sweet, some bitter/savory, so you never got used to the taste. His dessert wine was a red that seemed like an extension of the chocolate when they were consumed together.
We left pleasantly full, but not stuffed, and quite happily drunk. Hopefully, this will give you some idea of the glory, but after two days, the details of a meal that lasted 4 hours, included six courses, not to mention six glasses of wine, become foggy. Really, really foggy. We got home after midnight, drunk as lords, contemplating giving up all other food for two months at a stretch so we could afford to do it again on a regular basis.
This meal, this experience, was totally and completely worth every penny.
Six course tasting menu with wine pairings. Two choices for all but the cheese course. Between us, we tried everything on the menu--11 different dishes. 11 different wines. The food itself was very, very good. The food in conjunction with the wine pairings was absolute genius. The wine brought out the best in the food and vice versa. (Even the way dessert wines were excellent with the food and we hate them as a rule.) I won't bore you with the complete run-down of all 11 dishes, but will give some of the highlights:
Spanish makeral tartare, creme fresh, American paddlefish caviar with a french white--the combination of tartare, creme and caviar was really great.
Fluke with couscous with dried cranberries and pine nuts with port sauce, Chateauneuf-du-Pape--absolutely brilliant.
Wild Striped Bass with spinach and fingerling potatoes with balsamic sauce, something also red--also incredible.
New Zealand Venison (medium rare) with a smoked sausage/celery root gratin that was completely inspired, served with a red wine sauce. With this there was a Long Island Cabernet franc that was unbelievable, really herbal/piney smelling, with an incredibly buttery mouth feel.
Cheese Course: Vermont cow's milk cheese (very Manchego-like) with quince paste, seriously aged balsamic and caraway toasts--I remember nothing about the red that accompanied it other than it was very good. Oh, and the caraway toasts arrived in bed--seriously, they were lying on a folded napkin on a plate that made it appear that they were tucked between the sheets. It was quite adorable.
Dessert Course:
Tina: banana mouse and cafe creme. Totally covered with whipped cream, so you never knew what flavor you were getting next--wine was a semillon that was standard dessert wine (yucky) on it's own, but when sipped after a bite of the dessert, tasted like liquid caramel.
Greg: dark chocolate gaufrette (crispy cookie) with chocolate ganache and chocolate ice cream. Here too there were different areas of flavor in the creams, some sweet, some bitter/savory, so you never got used to the taste. His dessert wine was a red that seemed like an extension of the chocolate when they were consumed together.
We left pleasantly full, but not stuffed, and quite happily drunk. Hopefully, this will give you some idea of the glory, but after two days, the details of a meal that lasted 4 hours, included six courses, not to mention six glasses of wine, become foggy. Really, really foggy. We got home after midnight, drunk as lords, contemplating giving up all other food for two months at a stretch so we could afford to do it again on a regular basis.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Minor Coronary Episode
After my last blog, I decided to check my tickets, to find out my arrivals/departures for sure. I logged into Orbitz. They had no record of my trip. I went to the DinersClub site. They'd paid Orbitz for my trip. There was a ticket number. I went back to Orbitz and logged in again. Guess what? I have two different Orbitz accounts, one for each email address. Guess I'll be canceling the one, now that my hearts beating again.
Question for the dear, but not so near.
When are you all going to be home for Christmas?
I think I arrive the night of Wednesday the 22nd and leave Monday morning. And no, I don't know for sure.
I think I arrive the night of Wednesday the 22nd and leave Monday morning. And no, I don't know for sure.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Announcement!
We are NOT moving.
After looking at any number of apartments in our neighborhood, we've yet to find anything in our desired price range that has a layout as good as the one we currently have, let alone a roofdeck. Our current rent may be more than we should be paying, but the value is astronomical.
So, in short, WAHOOOOO!!!!!
After looking at any number of apartments in our neighborhood, we've yet to find anything in our desired price range that has a layout as good as the one we currently have, let alone a roofdeck. Our current rent may be more than we should be paying, but the value is astronomical.
So, in short, WAHOOOOO!!!!!
Friday, November 19, 2004
I just cashed in
...on one of the few benefits of being an adult. I had a chocolate cupcake for lunch.
I also purchased a grilled salmon sandwich, but for some reason, it's lost its appeal.
I also purchased a grilled salmon sandwich, but for some reason, it's lost its appeal.
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