Four days until the shit job is over.
Then reorganize house.
Clean the bajesus out of it.
Laundry.
Get behind the furniture.
PURGE!
Clean out the fridge.
Toss some old spices. (nyuk, nyuk, nyuk)
Backstock Auden's clothes sizes 0-9 months.
Outstock Auden's clothes 9 months +
Throw away boxes.
Recycle papers.
It will be so wonderful to no longer see work at home.
I will no longer be a slave to my work email.
(Shut up, I know I'm forever a slave to my gmail. And what? So are you.)
Refocus. Re-energize. Revive.
Happy 7 month Birthday, Auden Brown. xoxo, Mom
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
For Chipiti and Jeff
We walked in memory of my uncle Chipiti and Gerald's great friend Jeff. Last Sunday, Chipiti would have been 52.
There are no words.
There are no words.
Friday, May 16, 2008
What's yr glitch?
I've been reading all these blogs that have a purpose. Some sort of angle. Food blogs tend to have the best angles. Like Gourmet Project: some guy decided to cook every single recipe in the Gourmet cookbook (and he discovered other ppl doing the same). Or, Not Eating Out in New York: a fellow Brooklynite who now refuses to eat in restaurants in NYC. The Greenmarket Report is great (I got 3 bunches of ramps today! And focaccia from Bread Alone. MMMMM). Last Night's Dinner is an inspiration.
I, however, am sans angle.
I talk about food, and wine, and Auden, and music (did I mention we have My Bloody Valentine tix?? :D :D) and Brooklyn, and sometimes I pontificate on the meaning of life. But, I lack focus. I lack a solid direction. Do I need one? Can I skimp by as just some random chick who talks about random crap? No one necessarily reads this, and in a way, I'm just taking up space in the interwebbed world. Maybe the focus needs to begin within, and then it will filter down to ze blog. Ooo. Deep.
I, however, am sans angle.
I talk about food, and wine, and Auden, and music (did I mention we have My Bloody Valentine tix?? :D :D) and Brooklyn, and sometimes I pontificate on the meaning of life. But, I lack focus. I lack a solid direction. Do I need one? Can I skimp by as just some random chick who talks about random crap? No one necessarily reads this, and in a way, I'm just taking up space in the interwebbed world. Maybe the focus needs to begin within, and then it will filter down to ze blog. Ooo. Deep.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Mama got the brand new bag!!!
I got the yob, I got the yob!!!
I quit my piece of shit yob yesterday. I start new yob on the 27th. I have all of Memorial Weekend to celebrate! Hurrah!
Relationship. Apartment. Job. I have the perfect NY life....eat it, Carrie.
Upcoming:
Croquet Picnic
Sailboat around Manhattan
Kayaking
Trapeze
Act now, spaces are limited. Oh, this is truly going to be a very good summer. :D
I quit my piece of shit yob yesterday. I start new yob on the 27th. I have all of Memorial Weekend to celebrate! Hurrah!
Relationship. Apartment. Job. I have the perfect NY life....eat it, Carrie.
Upcoming:
Croquet Picnic
Sailboat around Manhattan
Kayaking
Trapeze
Act now, spaces are limited. Oh, this is truly going to be a very good summer. :D
Sunday, May 11, 2008
A holiday of my very own!
So, being a mom on Mother's Day is pretty freaking weird. Like, I know I'm a mom. I get it. I have a drooling, teething, poop machine of my very own. But being called a mom..and recognized as one...that's something for like...my mom. Not me.
Regardless, I have to say it was a good day. Yes, I'm recycling NWA lyrics. Again. Moving on, I did have a moment today when Auden was in his walker and I looked down and he was smiling his 2 toothed smile and holding a card that said "Mom" on it. I opened the card and there was a whole bunch of scribble scrabble in it (along with some really lovely sweetness from my husband). But the scribble scrabble was the best. My son held a pen and created something for me. *Mind blowing!*
Then we got all gussied up and went to brunch at Dressler. I was all bummed at first because there is a serious lack of variety on the menu. The brunch menu at Dumont is hella more diverse. HOWEVER, holy motherfucking crap balls...BEST omelet I've ever had (the ham, spinach and fontina sans ham) and of course, when in Dressler, one must have the hazelnut semifreddo. If you have never had the hazelnut semifreddo, if you don't know what I'm talking about, stop what you are doing, put some shoes on and fucking go to Dressler right now. I don't care that you have eye boogers or are at work slacking, get off yr ass and go. It's ridiculous. Creamy hazelnut ice cream...and when I say creamy, I mean creaaaaamyyyy...fudgey gelato, toasted sugary hazelnuts and some sort of hazelnutty crisp situation on the top. It causes panty soup. It has been dubbed "the best dessert I've ever had" by the Hammill clan, including my brother in law.
Speaking of sex on a plate, last night I made ramps. I kept reading and reading about these little fuckers on every blog and it's mother, so when Bex and I had our Greenmarket date yesterday morning, I bought 2 bunches. It took like 8 years to prep them, but I just cooked them in some olive oil and garlic, white tips first, then the leaves, then threw some gnocchi in there. Holy bajesus, batman. Bex and Jake came over while I was cooking with 2 bottles of wine, and they got a little taste test sensation, and they concurred: sex on a plate. They also brought over one of the most delicious wines I've ever had. We, unfortunately, had purchased the Sofia Coppolla Rose. It wasn't awful. It was just...there. Note to self: Coppollas make good movies, not good wine.
In other news, I am currently waiting for a call back. I won't go into it any further, but if you pray, meditate, or sacrifice small animals to a jungle deity, could you throw a little hope and blood my way? Preciate it, thanks.
Regardless, I have to say it was a good day. Yes, I'm recycling NWA lyrics. Again. Moving on, I did have a moment today when Auden was in his walker and I looked down and he was smiling his 2 toothed smile and holding a card that said "Mom" on it. I opened the card and there was a whole bunch of scribble scrabble in it (along with some really lovely sweetness from my husband). But the scribble scrabble was the best. My son held a pen and created something for me. *Mind blowing!*
Then we got all gussied up and went to brunch at Dressler. I was all bummed at first because there is a serious lack of variety on the menu. The brunch menu at Dumont is hella more diverse. HOWEVER, holy motherfucking crap balls...BEST omelet I've ever had (the ham, spinach and fontina sans ham) and of course, when in Dressler, one must have the hazelnut semifreddo. If you have never had the hazelnut semifreddo, if you don't know what I'm talking about, stop what you are doing, put some shoes on and fucking go to Dressler right now. I don't care that you have eye boogers or are at work slacking, get off yr ass and go. It's ridiculous. Creamy hazelnut ice cream...and when I say creamy, I mean creaaaaamyyyy...fudgey gelato, toasted sugary hazelnuts and some sort of hazelnutty crisp situation on the top. It causes panty soup. It has been dubbed "the best dessert I've ever had" by the Hammill clan, including my brother in law.
Speaking of sex on a plate, last night I made ramps. I kept reading and reading about these little fuckers on every blog and it's mother, so when Bex and I had our Greenmarket date yesterday morning, I bought 2 bunches. It took like 8 years to prep them, but I just cooked them in some olive oil and garlic, white tips first, then the leaves, then threw some gnocchi in there. Holy bajesus, batman. Bex and Jake came over while I was cooking with 2 bottles of wine, and they got a little taste test sensation, and they concurred: sex on a plate. They also brought over one of the most delicious wines I've ever had. We, unfortunately, had purchased the Sofia Coppolla Rose. It wasn't awful. It was just...there. Note to self: Coppollas make good movies, not good wine.
In other news, I am currently waiting for a call back. I won't go into it any further, but if you pray, meditate, or sacrifice small animals to a jungle deity, could you throw a little hope and blood my way? Preciate it, thanks.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Doing good things
Right now, I'm super excited. Gerald, Auden and I are participating in AIDS Walk NY this May 18th. I had given our team a goal of $1000 to raise....as of this evening, we are only $40 away from that goal! We've done better than I could imagine. So many thanks to everyone who has contributed, we really appreciate it so much!
Thursday night, I'm volunteering with Janine for a cancer gala.
At the end of the month, I might be volunteering for another event with NYU.
All this goody two shoesing of me is making me want to be a little bad. Just a little. Teensy. A smidge. Like, knocking over a slow tourist with a stroller kind of bad. Or giving a douche with a bad hair cut the wrong directions just because his hair is offensive to my eyes. Or living up to the Williamsburg stereotype whilst walking down Bedford Avenue and someone looks in my general direction.
That, and I deserve a martini. Friday night, betches! Hazard hits Happy Hour! I know, that sounds like an alliterative porno.
Thursday night, I'm volunteering with Janine for a cancer gala.
At the end of the month, I might be volunteering for another event with NYU.
All this goody two shoesing of me is making me want to be a little bad. Just a little. Teensy. A smidge. Like, knocking over a slow tourist with a stroller kind of bad. Or giving a douche with a bad hair cut the wrong directions just because his hair is offensive to my eyes. Or living up to the Williamsburg stereotype whilst walking down Bedford Avenue and someone looks in my general direction.
That, and I deserve a martini. Friday night, betches! Hazard hits Happy Hour! I know, that sounds like an alliterative porno.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Parklife
I love spring in Brooklyn. Don't get me wrong, I love fall and winter and summer in BK too, but spring...there's something about it. Everything feels right in the world. There's hope. People look alive. Little things are growing here and there. And everyone goes to the park.
Growing up in Miami, there was no such thing as: "Hey, let's go to the park!" When it's 96 degrees for 10 months out of the year, the only thing that everyone can agree on is air conditioning and shade. Moving up here, the park is such an important part of people's lives, including mine. There's something about having a picnic, drinking some mimosas, playing croquet, and laughing at hipster kickball that just makes life perfect.
In the past couple of weeks, I've had a few spontaneous picnics. Today, Auden was asleep in his stroller, while Deanna and I stole his blanket and ate Mast Brothers chocolate and sipped iced coffees from Oslo. (The white chocolate w roasted pistachios and almonds and dried cranberries that is mother effing orgasmic. I know I've discussed this before. It bears repeating.) Something funky and squishy landed on my jeans, but I survived. There was plenty of pastiness and other unfortunate things walking around. Scrawny, scabby legs in too short shorts and ridiculous ironic boots. A rainbow of Wayfarers. Coke scabby noses. I loved it all.
This is spring in Brooklyn. It's time for croquet, betches!
Growing up in Miami, there was no such thing as: "Hey, let's go to the park!" When it's 96 degrees for 10 months out of the year, the only thing that everyone can agree on is air conditioning and shade. Moving up here, the park is such an important part of people's lives, including mine. There's something about having a picnic, drinking some mimosas, playing croquet, and laughing at hipster kickball that just makes life perfect.
In the past couple of weeks, I've had a few spontaneous picnics. Today, Auden was asleep in his stroller, while Deanna and I stole his blanket and ate Mast Brothers chocolate and sipped iced coffees from Oslo. (The white chocolate w roasted pistachios and almonds and dried cranberries that is mother effing orgasmic. I know I've discussed this before. It bears repeating.) Something funky and squishy landed on my jeans, but I survived. There was plenty of pastiness and other unfortunate things walking around. Scrawny, scabby legs in too short shorts and ridiculous ironic boots. A rainbow of Wayfarers. Coke scabby noses. I loved it all.
This is spring in Brooklyn. It's time for croquet, betches!
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