Recap

Och. I tell you what. You sit in front of the computer all day at work--you really don't want to come home and sit in front of a different computer.

There were so many things I thought all week, Must remember to write about... Alas, they've flown the coop. Here are the highlights of my week.

-Finding out Jenna Bush is pregnant and, consequently, engaged. The Administration loves them family values.

-A fire across the street from my office in Chinatown, which makes me sound horrid and bloodthirsty, but it was only a weenie fire, and everyone was running around with buckets of water, and then eight (EIGHT!) firetrucks came and I got to watch them climb a great long ladder to the roof and it was hot dog! entertainment. And everyone was alright, so no worries.

-My excellent pal Cara, whom I lived with in Bath, is coming to visit for the weekend! We're gonna drink teaaa, and go to Chesterrrr, and maybe see a mooovie, and make mojitos and overall have a jolly good time. Yah.

More later.

Big News

Utterly mad week, but at the end of it all, I have a job! A real job! With benefits and a salary and pencil skirts and tweed vests! 

I'm excited and nervous, one after the other. My adrenal glands are working on overdrive, and I start in two weeks.

In other news, my miniature sister is gone away at school again. The house is utterly empty without her banging around in it. Maggie follows me everywhere now. For instance, right now, when I turn around and look down behind my chair, this is what I see:



Poor, wayward pup. She and Amy have a special relationship because she thinks Amy is part dog. I'm absolutely almost certain.

For reasons I'd rather not re-explain, I ended up at MoMA on Saturday afternoon, semi-partially because my original plan went bust, and mostly-partially because it was swamp outside, and everyone knows museums and movie theatres are the two places you go for lovely a.c. I hadn't been there since it reopened with much fanfare, and dear readers, I had completely the best time. I stood and looked at this for a very long while.

Despite the evidence to the contrary (right), I think photography should be utterly outlawed at the museum. No one looked at the art. Everyone just crowded around to take pictures of it. Dumb. Just dumb. And the security guards went mental whenever a renegade flash went off.

One more:

When in Doubt, You Can Always Talk About the Weather

Catholic guilt caused a spur of the moment trip to Staten Island to see my fine-thank-you grandfather in the hospital. We brought him the paper, which is pretty much his bread and butter, and then he sat there for an hour reading the funnies and ignoring us while we chatted with each other. I sat on a radiator utterly disgusted with my grumpy, Mr. Wilson of a grandpa, but my aunt kept fluttering over him, opening his cup of Jell-o and tucking the blanket under his feet. I just watched the Disney Channel, which he had on mute, and talked to my grandma about Kohl's, which she loves.

Saw a Sam Leonard look-alike-contest-winner at church today. Saw him a couple weeks ago, too, and spent the better part of mass trying to figure out if it really was Sam or not. (Not.)

How much are you loving this break in the weather? I am smitten.

Beer and Yoga, or, A Few Good Things

So despite the fact that I have this somewhat okay job doing assistantish things for a writer I admire, I've taken Fridays off to search for a more real job, like one with a salary and benefits and air conditioning. Trouble is, though, it gets to be Friday and I think, WEEKEND! Wooo! And the job searching falls utterly to the bottom of the list, behind even laundry and returning a package of socks to Kohl's. The trouble of it is, I absolutely completely loathe writing cover letters. Today I went for a jog, loaded the dishwasher, bought the week's groceries, and made sweet-and-spicy pork chops for dinner, but I didn't look for a single job.

In an effort to get my mind off the troubling things, here are some things I enjoy. We'll call them anti-cover letters.

1. Blueberry beer from Trader Joe's. It was probably definitely five bucks for a six-pack, but it tastes like one hundred dollars.

2. Listening to the Skygreen Leopards in the evening. (I'm doin' it right now.)

3. Slicing a lime and squeezing the semi-circular pieces into a glass of water.

4. Spying on my dog when she thinks she's doing big important guard dog stuff.



5. Doing yoga at the Connection with old ladies. Dudes, I finally did the full lotus the other day! I've been telling everyone I see. It was utterly painful, and my legs felt all bendy afterwards, but I am positively thrilled.

6.Watching 'Jeopardy' after dinner, esp. if it's 'Teen Jeopardy,' like it was tonight. The final question was something like, What two countries are the biggest tourist destinations for Americans? One girl put "London & Paris." I ask you.

In Threes

They say bad things come in threes. Well. Today, dear reader, was day two of what I hope is an exception to the threes rule. Yesterday, despite being hum-drum in Manhattan, was exciting at home in NJ. PSE&G discovered a gas leak in our FRONT YARD, which, quite frankly, I get to say a big told-you-so about because I completely smelled gas weeks ago while sitting on the front porch with my loyal and trusted dog. Well. PSE&G said worst case scenario, it was natural gas--the highly explosive kind that can blow your house to smithereens, literally. Most likely, though, it was methane drifting up from the sewage line. Not exactly an appetizing alternative, but utterly more reassuring than sitting on a ticking bomb.

Turns out it was natural gas. Backhoe on the front yard. My poor, loyal dog locked away in her crate, growling and hrumphing as the workmen traipsed through our house to the furnace and back. All's well now, gas line patched and front lawn sewn together, but oy.

Then today we get a call that my grampa's in the hospital, but no one knows why. And no one's worried! Just calling one another all, You know what's up? Nah, you? Nope. Absolutely grand. Phone rang for about twenty minutes straight. The doctor herself was the one to tell us, over the phone, what the deal was (all's well, again), but jeeze. I'm thinking a phone chain should be enacted, that's what I'm thinking.

Managed to slide by the utterly bad not once, but twice (!), so perhaps a loophole will get us out of the Rule of Threes. Here's hoping, dear reader. Fingers crossed.

Kiddies and Groceries

GORgeous weather, if one is in the shade.

Last night baby-sat for the Krazy Kohuts who've turned into bronzed, slightly blonde beach bums--er, I mean, pool bums. Kate (age 9), Julia (age 6) and I watched the new (!) disc 5 of 'Charlie and Lola,' pausing between episodes so they could get drinks and change into pajamas and brush their teeth. After finally tucking them in (at opposite ends of the same bed, which they insisted upon), Alex (age 13) and I watched 'Pride & Prejudice.' Don't care to admit how many times I've watched it, but she was a newbie, both to film and story. She tried real hard not to fall asleep, and I loved her for it, despite the fact that I was up and down like a bloody jack-in-the-box, stomping to the little girls' bedroom door with my hands on my hips every ten minutes. Kate asured me that doing hand-clap games helped her fall asleep, and I assured her that if I heard one more peep out of them, they'd be in separate beds. Needless to say, my threat was a bust, but they fell asleep eventually, and I ate peanut-butter M&M's out of a cereal bowl while Elizabeth Bennet stared fiercely out from beneath her messy bangs.

Christine introduced me to Trader Joe's this afternoon, a favor for which I am forever in her debt. (Chrissy, IOU like, one million medium Diet Cokes from Scotto's.) I bought:

-curry sauce
-naan bread
-ginger Cat Snacks (appropriately subtitled, "Snacks for People")
-raspberry sorbet
-almonds
-milk
-two bottles-o-wine
-BLUEBERRY BEER
-and something else I can't quite put my finger on

Eatin' good in the neighborhood.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

Woke up to the sound of pouring rain, and I think that was largely responsible for me feeling fully rested at 7:42 in the morning.

Last night was the second Broadway play in a week, a record I never hope to break. Don't get me wrong, 'Chicago' and 'A Chorus Line' were fantastic (and even stirred the long lost little girl desire to be a dancer), but sitting in those narrow, straight-backed seats with my two bags (commuter attire) between my feet is not the most relaxing end to a work week.

God. Listen to me. I have work weeks now.

The highlight of my night last night was a tie between my vanilla milkshake and the giant, moving t-rex at Toys-R-Us in Times Square. I took about a dozen pictures with my phone. Call me a tourist; I won't deny it.

Today was gold star--quiet, more green than gray, and spent crossing things cleanly off my To Do list and watching movies w. my petite sister. Tres needed. Plus, what a breath of fresh air, non?

Autumn > Summer