At the Boylston Street Trader Joe's last week....
Checker: And would you like paper or plastic?
Me: Oh, I brought my own bag, thanks!
Checker: Great! And, how will you be paying, credit or debit?
Me: (taking out wallet) Credit
Checker: (looking at me) You've got a pregnant...
Me: (to self) Oh.My.God. If he even says I am pregnant?! I know after my depression starvation I've put on a little more weight, but really, I've been doing crunches. Is my shirt to tight? I need to clean out my clothes. And hold in my belly! But really, I could be pregnant. I really only have a limited time frame left anyway...but why does this guy need to be telling me that? I think he has an accent. Maybe it's a cultural difference and it's okay that he's saying this. Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry! I'm not pregnant! I'm turning bright red, I can feel it! I've got to get out of here. This is so embarrassing.
Checker: (finishing sentence) ...wallet.
Me: (to self, relieved) Oh. The George Costanza wallet.
Checker: Have a great night!
Monday, September 08, 2008
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A Legacy for the Ages
Dubya's in lame duck mode right now, and in a couple months we'll all be contemplating his legacy. A lot has happened over the past seven and a half years, and I think we can all agree on his most successful act: the marriage of his daughter Jenna to a hand-picked up and coming Republican. Before 9/11, before we invaded Iraq and before gas was $4/gallon, Bush vacationed at his ranch non-stop, sharks were rampant on America's beaches, and the Bush twins were out of control...
At approximately 10:19 on Tuesday, May 29th, the Austin Police Department received a 9-1-1 call reporting minors attempting to purchase alcohol. The caller was the manager of Chuy's Restaurant located at 1728 Barton Springs Road.
APD patrol officers arrived and found that Jenna and Barbara Bush, 19, were alleged to have been involved in this incident. As no offense was witnessed by APD officers, following routine procedures, further investigation is required to determine if any charges will be filed. APD and the Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission are investigating this incident.
ABCNEWS.com, June 4, 2001
*The night of the "alleged incident" is clear in my mind. Barbara was visiting from Yale and I had promised her a good night on the town. It had been chilly and rainy the previous week, but Tuesday was beautiful and warm and everyone was ready to go out and pary. Barb is very sweet, but just doesn't know how to have a good time. This is off the record, but I generally think of myself as being the social butterfly. I mean, she goes to Yale where all they do is study! Anyway, the end of the semester was approaching and I had a few favors to call in. I borrowed Maggie's ID--she's 21 and I had lent her my favorite capris a few weeks earlier and she had spilled beer all over them, ruining them. She felt so bad about it that she was more than happy to lend me her ID. I gave my Secret Service guys, Joe and Nathan, twenty bucks each to leave us on our own for the night. I have them wrapped around my finger. My good friend Lisa assured me her roommate was tending bar at Chuy's and that if we asked for Sarah, we would have no problem getting served. Once there, I couldn't find Sarah, but calmly and cooly used Maggie's ID to order a round of margaritas. So when APD officers arrived at the restaurant at around, I guess, 10 o'clock, I had no idea what had gone wrong...
Of course she had no idea what went wrong! The girl was wrecked. I don't know what Jenna told you, but I knew the night was ill-fated from the beginning. First of all, she was still in the doghouse with mom for her possession of alcohol incident about a month ago. I told her we should lie low and maybe just take in a movie. My friend Ashley was with me and didn't have a fake ID and didn't want to risk getting in trouble. But there is no stopping Jenna when she puts her mind to something, even though she rarely thinks things through. We may be twins, but we are as different as night and day. To tell you the truth, I always consider myself to be the smarter one. But back to May 29th. Early in the evening Jenna snuck into this girl Maggie's room and searched through her desk until she found her driver's license. She mumbled something about capri pant, and when I asked her if she should really be searching through this girl's private stuff, she just said something about Maggie owing her. Then she broke out the Coronas. After about three beers, she said this girl Lisa's roommate, Sarah, worked at a restaurant in South Austin and that she had some stuff on her about cheating on a Biology exam first semester, so if she refused to serve us, Jenna would have only to make a call to the dean. Ditching our Secret Service guys was the hardest part of the evening. But by 8:30 Jenna had already downed the whole six-pack of beer, and was determined to get to that restaurant! Jenna tried to bribe Nathan and Joe with 40 bucks, but they just laughed at her. So we came up with something and ended up having to climb out of the second floor bathroom window and shimmy down the drain pipe.
Once at Chuy's, I was hoping to just sit down and order some food, but Jenna had to make a big production. You'd think, since she was using someone else's ID, she would keep a low profile and be subtle, but no. She was dancing and singing on the table! Before I knew it we all had drinks in front of us. Some guy bought us a round of shots. By then the manager had already called the police. Jenna was angry and kept yelling at the police, asking them if they knew who her father was. She said she would tell Daddy not to give them their tax rebates.
After we got home, I knew we were really going to be in for it. There were irate messages from Maggie, Lisa and Sarah. Nathan and Joe were not happy. They had already called Daddy and seemed pretty concerned about their jobs. I think I overheard them say something about Chelsea being an ideal charge.
I remember it being a great night--except for the police coming. I'm not sure why Barb is so grumpy. What's the big deal? She wanted a good time and I showed it to her. Nathan and Joe just laughed at us and joked about how much more fun we were than that goody-two-shoes, Chelsea. I'm really lucky they have such a great sense of humor. Appeasing Daddy is a piece of cake, but Mom's another story. I think she might still be mad about last month. The other week at Camp David I caught her in the kitchen taking some pills and mumbling something about Chelsea being a dream daughter.
Yeah, I'm pretty mad at Jenna right now. I'm going to have to smooth things over with Mom and Daddy, as usual, not to mention straightening things out with her friends. She just takes no responsibility! I don't know what she would do it she didn't have me.
Barb is so lucky she has me. I mean, who else is as much fun as me? She would be stuck at Yale, studying, studying, studying.
*This bit of fiction is reprinted, courtesy of myself, Andrea. I found it in a box, where it's been sitting since I took a summer creative writing class years ago.
At approximately 10:19 on Tuesday, May 29th, the Austin Police Department received a 9-1-1 call reporting minors attempting to purchase alcohol. The caller was the manager of Chuy's Restaurant located at 1728 Barton Springs Road.
APD patrol officers arrived and found that Jenna and Barbara Bush, 19, were alleged to have been involved in this incident. As no offense was witnessed by APD officers, following routine procedures, further investigation is required to determine if any charges will be filed. APD and the Texas Alcohol Beverage Commission are investigating this incident.
ABCNEWS.com, June 4, 2001
*The night of the "alleged incident" is clear in my mind. Barbara was visiting from Yale and I had promised her a good night on the town. It had been chilly and rainy the previous week, but Tuesday was beautiful and warm and everyone was ready to go out and pary. Barb is very sweet, but just doesn't know how to have a good time. This is off the record, but I generally think of myself as being the social butterfly. I mean, she goes to Yale where all they do is study! Anyway, the end of the semester was approaching and I had a few favors to call in. I borrowed Maggie's ID--she's 21 and I had lent her my favorite capris a few weeks earlier and she had spilled beer all over them, ruining them. She felt so bad about it that she was more than happy to lend me her ID. I gave my Secret Service guys, Joe and Nathan, twenty bucks each to leave us on our own for the night. I have them wrapped around my finger. My good friend Lisa assured me her roommate was tending bar at Chuy's and that if we asked for Sarah, we would have no problem getting served. Once there, I couldn't find Sarah, but calmly and cooly used Maggie's ID to order a round of margaritas. So when APD officers arrived at the restaurant at around, I guess, 10 o'clock, I had no idea what had gone wrong...
Of course she had no idea what went wrong! The girl was wrecked. I don't know what Jenna told you, but I knew the night was ill-fated from the beginning. First of all, she was still in the doghouse with mom for her possession of alcohol incident about a month ago. I told her we should lie low and maybe just take in a movie. My friend Ashley was with me and didn't have a fake ID and didn't want to risk getting in trouble. But there is no stopping Jenna when she puts her mind to something, even though she rarely thinks things through. We may be twins, but we are as different as night and day. To tell you the truth, I always consider myself to be the smarter one. But back to May 29th. Early in the evening Jenna snuck into this girl Maggie's room and searched through her desk until she found her driver's license. She mumbled something about capri pant, and when I asked her if she should really be searching through this girl's private stuff, she just said something about Maggie owing her. Then she broke out the Coronas. After about three beers, she said this girl Lisa's roommate, Sarah, worked at a restaurant in South Austin and that she had some stuff on her about cheating on a Biology exam first semester, so if she refused to serve us, Jenna would have only to make a call to the dean. Ditching our Secret Service guys was the hardest part of the evening. But by 8:30 Jenna had already downed the whole six-pack of beer, and was determined to get to that restaurant! Jenna tried to bribe Nathan and Joe with 40 bucks, but they just laughed at her. So we came up with something and ended up having to climb out of the second floor bathroom window and shimmy down the drain pipe.
Once at Chuy's, I was hoping to just sit down and order some food, but Jenna had to make a big production. You'd think, since she was using someone else's ID, she would keep a low profile and be subtle, but no. She was dancing and singing on the table! Before I knew it we all had drinks in front of us. Some guy bought us a round of shots. By then the manager had already called the police. Jenna was angry and kept yelling at the police, asking them if they knew who her father was. She said she would tell Daddy not to give them their tax rebates.
After we got home, I knew we were really going to be in for it. There were irate messages from Maggie, Lisa and Sarah. Nathan and Joe were not happy. They had already called Daddy and seemed pretty concerned about their jobs. I think I overheard them say something about Chelsea being an ideal charge.
I remember it being a great night--except for the police coming. I'm not sure why Barb is so grumpy. What's the big deal? She wanted a good time and I showed it to her. Nathan and Joe just laughed at us and joked about how much more fun we were than that goody-two-shoes, Chelsea. I'm really lucky they have such a great sense of humor. Appeasing Daddy is a piece of cake, but Mom's another story. I think she might still be mad about last month. The other week at Camp David I caught her in the kitchen taking some pills and mumbling something about Chelsea being a dream daughter.
Yeah, I'm pretty mad at Jenna right now. I'm going to have to smooth things over with Mom and Daddy, as usual, not to mention straightening things out with her friends. She just takes no responsibility! I don't know what she would do it she didn't have me.
Barb is so lucky she has me. I mean, who else is as much fun as me? She would be stuck at Yale, studying, studying, studying.
*This bit of fiction is reprinted, courtesy of myself, Andrea. I found it in a box, where it's been sitting since I took a summer creative writing class years ago.
Monday, July 14, 2008
On Being a Good Friend
If you happened to pass by the corner of Boylston and Clarendon around 6:30 the evening of Wednesday July 2, you might have seen two professional 30 year old women fishing around in the gutter. Had Rashmi and I fallen to drugs? Not exactly...the following is the series of events leading up the the gutter episode.
4:30 pm-- Decide to meet for dinner and drinks at the Globe. Contemplate The Cactus Club but decide that burgers and waffle fries would be better.
5:20 pm-- Arrive at the Globe and decide to drink iced tea and Roy Rogers, making it a "sober night". But I decide to subsitute the iced tea for a Rolling Rock.
5:45-6:15 pm-- chow down and sandwiches and waffle fries and comment on passers-by.
6:25 pm-- walk down Boylston deciding where to go next...and Rashmi gives her necklace a thoughtful tug, which causes the line to snap and a cascade of beads to fall into the gutter.
Since she still had a good handful, I said, "quick, just stuff those into your bag and you can restring them. It will be okay!" She looks unsure and says, "But it's my favorite necklace [later confirmed by her sister, who knew exactly which necklace it was without missing a beat]! It's from Target but..."
As I'm telling her it will be okay, that she still does have most of the beads, she starts picking loose beads up off the sidewalk...and then fishing them out of the gutter.
"Uh, do you need help?" I hesitate, but can't stand by while my friend dirties her hands, while balancing on her haunches. So down I go, and start fishing them out as well.
"Andrea, there's one over there."
"No, that's a cigarette butt."
When we had sufficiently gathered the beads into our hands, I looked at her and said, "You realize we need to beeline for the Filene's Basement bathroom stat." We hurried across the street with our hands in front of us and ran upstairs equally laughing and pushing bargain shoppers out of the way.
When we were washing the beads and our hands, Rashmi said, "thanks-- you are such a great friend!" Well, if all it takes is fishing around in a Boston gutter, I'll take it!
4:30 pm-- Decide to meet for dinner and drinks at the Globe. Contemplate The Cactus Club but decide that burgers and waffle fries would be better.
5:20 pm-- Arrive at the Globe and decide to drink iced tea and Roy Rogers, making it a "sober night". But I decide to subsitute the iced tea for a Rolling Rock.
5:45-6:15 pm-- chow down and sandwiches and waffle fries and comment on passers-by.
6:25 pm-- walk down Boylston deciding where to go next...and Rashmi gives her necklace a thoughtful tug, which causes the line to snap and a cascade of beads to fall into the gutter.
Since she still had a good handful, I said, "quick, just stuff those into your bag and you can restring them. It will be okay!" She looks unsure and says, "But it's my favorite necklace [later confirmed by her sister, who knew exactly which necklace it was without missing a beat]! It's from Target but..."
As I'm telling her it will be okay, that she still does have most of the beads, she starts picking loose beads up off the sidewalk...and then fishing them out of the gutter.
"Uh, do you need help?" I hesitate, but can't stand by while my friend dirties her hands, while balancing on her haunches. So down I go, and start fishing them out as well.
"Andrea, there's one over there."
"No, that's a cigarette butt."
When we had sufficiently gathered the beads into our hands, I looked at her and said, "You realize we need to beeline for the Filene's Basement bathroom stat." We hurried across the street with our hands in front of us and ran upstairs equally laughing and pushing bargain shoppers out of the way.
When we were washing the beads and our hands, Rashmi said, "thanks-- you are such a great friend!" Well, if all it takes is fishing around in a Boston gutter, I'll take it!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
On Ageing Gracefully
A celebratory birthday trip to D.C. yielded some helpful lessons On Ageing Gracefully.
My mom and I arrived just in time for cocktail hour on Thursday. We had a few drinks at Liz's apartment, then proceeded on to Lauriol Plaza for Mexican food and margaritas.
Liz ordered a round of tequilla shots for us. We all downed them...or so we thought.
My mom and I arrived just in time for cocktail hour on Thursday. We had a few drinks at Liz's apartment, then proceeded on to Lauriol Plaza for Mexican food and margaritas.
Liz ordered a round of tequilla shots for us. We all downed them...or so we thought.
Lesson 1. If you feel you can't do the whole shot in one gulp, just go, "whew, that was strong!" and wipe your brow AS IF you too had taken the shot. When your daughters realize you faked them out, just dump half untouched shot in your margarita, swallow the rest of it, then proceed to finish everyone else's margarita at the table, shaming your daughters. Old does not mean lame!
We arranged time for birthday facials on Friday afternoon. In the waiting area we were asked to fill out a questionnaire regarding our skin care regime and skin quality, texture, etc. A series of boxes asked that we indicate what age range we were, ie, 20 and under, 21-30, 31-45, etc.
Lesson 2. Upon realizing that you really fall in the very last age range of 60 or older, declare that "they don't really need to know that" and check off the 2nd to last box instead.
We arranged time for birthday facials on Friday afternoon. In the waiting area we were asked to fill out a questionnaire regarding our skin care regime and skin quality, texture, etc. A series of boxes asked that we indicate what age range we were, ie, 20 and under, 21-30, 31-45, etc.
Lesson 2. Upon realizing that you really fall in the very last age range of 60 or older, declare that "they don't really need to know that" and check off the 2nd to last box instead.
After a disappointing Nationals game (the game was disappointing, the beer, peanuts and hot dogs were not), we decided to go to Kramer's for dessert and drinks. Our young server asked us for our IDs, which my sister and I gladly handed over. To my mom, in all seriousness, she said, "I'll need to see yours too." My mom blushed, "really?" then dug out her ID when the server sheepishly apologized but said she didn't want to get in trouble.
Lesson 3. Being carded is the sincerest form of flattery.
Having eaten out and walked the city for three 90+ degree days, we stayed in on Sunday to make dinner. Matt set up the Wii so we could play Mario Kart and Liz worked on the dinner. My mom and I teamed up and raced through multiple levels while Matt was grilling. Liz asked for someone to set the table to which I responded, "I can't-- I've got two more laps!" She looked at my mom, who responded, "I can't either-- we're a team and I've got to cheer her on!" (My sister huffed and purposely kept walking in front of the tv).Lesson 4. You're only as old as you feel, or when in doubt, enact mother-daughter role reversal.
Lesson 5. Note to self: Remember these lessons, and this weekend, so that when you are 40 years old (with a couple extra decades of experience), you can age gracefully as well.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Boston, I Love You
Something strange has been happening in Boston recently. Sure, the Celts are kicking it and Lester had a no-hitter, but something more subversive has been taking place. I asked my friend Rashmi, "Have you noticed that people are a lot more...friendly recently?" Once my eyes weren't clouded by a daily deluge of tears, I realized that basic courtesy and then some has been running rampant throughout Beantown.
It started with a low point a few months back. On one (probably rainy) day, I was yelled at by both the bus driver (for not waiting the appropriate amount of time to tap my Charlie Card on the sensor) and the librarian at the BPL (for mistakenly believing that when she had finished helping the patron in front of me that she would be ready to help me). In the words of LCD Soundsystem, "New York I love you, but you're bringing me down." Only substitute Boston for New York. I retreated home and emerged only when the trees started to green and the crocus and daffodils started to bloom. And that's when I noticed it.
The crossing guard by the school near me sees me coming down the street and always pushes the walk button before I get there. Then she waves me across and we wish each other good morning. The high school kid working the register at Harvest notices that the celery I'd picked up were fairly limp; did I still want to buy them? A bus driver with an out of service bus picks me and one other woman up, saying he'll at least make two people happy, although he has to bypass the hoards of people waiting at other stops while the buses get back on the right time. On the last T of the night a tired woman with many bags looks at me and offers me her seat! (I respectfully declined). And finally, most impressively, the Haymarket vendors not only lack their usual surliness, but are downright chatty: they joke with us, tell us which fruits really are best, let us choose our produce and even ask what we're planning to cook. Totally unheard of.
Rashmi's response to my original query was this. "The citizens of Boston are a mirror of you. I'm glad you're feeling happier."
It started with a low point a few months back. On one (probably rainy) day, I was yelled at by both the bus driver (for not waiting the appropriate amount of time to tap my Charlie Card on the sensor) and the librarian at the BPL (for mistakenly believing that when she had finished helping the patron in front of me that she would be ready to help me). In the words of LCD Soundsystem, "New York I love you, but you're bringing me down." Only substitute Boston for New York. I retreated home and emerged only when the trees started to green and the crocus and daffodils started to bloom. And that's when I noticed it.
The crossing guard by the school near me sees me coming down the street and always pushes the walk button before I get there. Then she waves me across and we wish each other good morning. The high school kid working the register at Harvest notices that the celery I'd picked up were fairly limp; did I still want to buy them? A bus driver with an out of service bus picks me and one other woman up, saying he'll at least make two people happy, although he has to bypass the hoards of people waiting at other stops while the buses get back on the right time. On the last T of the night a tired woman with many bags looks at me and offers me her seat! (I respectfully declined). And finally, most impressively, the Haymarket vendors not only lack their usual surliness, but are downright chatty: they joke with us, tell us which fruits really are best, let us choose our produce and even ask what we're planning to cook. Totally unheard of.
Rashmi's response to my original query was this. "The citizens of Boston are a mirror of you. I'm glad you're feeling happier."
Monday, April 28, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 3
I am a midwestern raised Protestant which I like to tell people means I have certain inherent qualities: the Protestant work ethic (ie, even if I'm sick, which in itself should never happen, I would still report to work), a sense of patience (attributed to long drives over the prairies and farmland) and a reticence to talk about personal stuff too much (no need to burden someone else with my problems). Since Protestants are allowed to interpret the Bible as best they see fit, church services are short and sweet, with the ultimate goal to get into heaven, but with a stop at the social hall after service for donuts and coffee first.
Needless to say the pomp and ritual of Catholicism was always fascinating to me. Remember the scene in Mermaids where Winona Ryder is praying to a homemade shrine to the Virgin Mary and her mother played by Cher says, "Charlotte, we're Jewish."? I think of that scene often...
So when I was waiting to act on my psychic's advice, I started getting anxious. Some research (http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/sf/real-estate/real-estate-superstition-st-joseph-statues-043270 ) revealed that St. Joseph is the patron saint of housing. I didn't exactly need to sell my house, but I did in effect need to sell one room. Despite months of living frugally and saving every last penny, I had no compunction about immediately purchasing the Double Novena St. Joseph & Jude Housing Kit from totallycatholic.com.
It arrived a few days later and contained 1 2.5 inch plastic Saint (I'm guessing Joseph?), one tiny 1 inch Saint in a plastic case (St. Joseph, to bury in the ground), one St. Joseph medallion (perhaps good for a certain cat's collar) and 2 saint cards.
The best part of the package may well be the invoice. One line on the invoice says, "Catholic Church Canon Law forbids the sale of items that have been blessed - please have your items blessed by a Catholic priest so that they may become true sacramentals. Tell your family and friends about TotallyCatholic.com - make $$! Sign up free for our affiliate program!" This doesn't make sense to me so if anyone can elucidate, please do so! Further down along the invoice they request the customers share their successful home selling stories, saying "We have sold thousands of kits since we first invented the idea 13 years ago." Um, I guess I was under the impression that this was "invented" by St. Joseph? Finally, at the very bottom it reads, "TotallyCatholic.com now serving Mystic Monks Coffee - the finest coffee in the world, made by real monks! www.MysticMonksCoffee.net" Ah ha! Finally the lost connection between us social hour loving Protestants and our Catholic brethren.
The psychic and/or saints paid off-- I had a roommate by the end of the week.
It arrived a few days later and contained 1 2.5 inch plastic Saint (I'm guessing Joseph?), one tiny 1 inch Saint in a plastic case (St. Joseph, to bury in the ground), one St. Joseph medallion (perhaps good for a certain cat's collar) and 2 saint cards.
The best part of the package may well be the invoice. One line on the invoice says, "Catholic Church Canon Law forbids the sale of items that have been blessed - please have your items blessed by a Catholic priest so that they may become true sacramentals. Tell your family and friends about TotallyCatholic.com - make $$! Sign up free for our affiliate program!" This doesn't make sense to me so if anyone can elucidate, please do so! Further down along the invoice they request the customers share their successful home selling stories, saying "We have sold thousands of kits since we first invented the idea 13 years ago." Um, I guess I was under the impression that this was "invented" by St. Joseph? Finally, at the very bottom it reads, "TotallyCatholic.com now serving Mystic Monks Coffee - the finest coffee in the world, made by real monks! www.MysticMonksCoffee.net" Ah ha! Finally the lost connection between us social hour loving Protestants and our Catholic brethren.
The psychic and/or saints paid off-- I had a roommate by the end of the week.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 2*
In my opinion, the best way to pass the time when feeling blue is to coerce your friends into spending time with you, and perhaps forcing them to cook for you as well. If you force them to cook a 5 lb brisket, all the better. And, if you force them to cook brisket for you, while pretending to be Jewish, well, it just doesn't get any better than that. Mood improvement is guaranteed.
Last Wednesday I emailed ET#1 and told her we should be on the lookout for Passover Coca Cola. It is made with actual sugar, not high fructose corn syrup and thus brings about a nostalgia for so many things past (taping songs off the radio, watching movies on beta max, Atari, Sweet Valley High...). She responded that she would indeed look for it, and that also she'd had a dream about brisket. Should we have a Passover Seder? Of course. Not being Jewish is just a technicality, plus don't we all need to free ourselves from captivity at some point?
By Friday she had a 5 lb brisket, a shank bone and a full menu planned. I had invited our other former roommate, Brandi, who agreed to attend our seder without batting an eye. I collected recipes from Jewish (thanks for the charoset, Nora) and non-Jewish (the flan was a hit, Rashmi) friends alike. Saturday morning ET#1 and I met at 8:30 am at Mike's Pastry before hitting Haymarket. I ordered my standard canoli and when I mentioned it to my mom later, she snarkily replied she was glad to know it being Passover didn't stop me from eating pastries. I reminded her we aren't Jewish. Haymarket provided some necessary fruits and veggies (apples and leeks) and some non necessary ones (a 5 lb bag of salad for $2). I spent the remainder of the Sabbath preparing the flan using a dozen eggs and snacking on matzoh. I headed over to ET#1's abode and was greeted with the following menu:
Matzoh ball soup
Frisee Salad with orange
The 5 lb. Brisket
Sauteed carrots
Steamed asparagus
Charoset (apples, walnuts, dried cherries and just a touch of red wine)
Red Wine
Roasted tomatoes
Potato Kugel
Orange Almond Flan
The Seder Plate and Matzohs
I started to feel full just looking at it all. Needless to say, it was too much food for 3 people, even though we left the door open for Elijah. But eat we did, and I really did get full. And I really did not feel blue at all!
*Due to the time sensitive nature of Passover, this post is going up before the totallycatholic.com post.
*Due to the time sensitive nature of Passover, this post is going up before the totallycatholic.com post.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Spiritual Help, Part 1
Those of you who know me and read this know the past 6 months have been less than stellar. Sure, the mice got caught and friends supported me with crappy food* and entertainment, but despite my best efforts life was difficult. A couple weeks ago I decided my life was out of control and someone else needed to help.
It was time to go to the psychic.
It was my mom's idea. Apparently mom advice only lasts so long, so she said to me, "You and ET#1 need to go to the psychic." Some yelp research landed us at the Tremont Tearoom. A call to make appointments rendered a chuckle; apparently business is not so great as to require appointments. So we went on a Sunday, when we could claim the $5 off discount. After stopping for breathmints and a lotto ticket, we found our way into a dark building and took the beer smelling elevator up to 3. Nag Champa and Patchouli lured us into a studio with a handful of psychics at small tables, at least one working the phone for call-ins. I paid cash upfront for our adventure and we each chose our psychic after consulting a menu of services (the combo platter of palm reading and tarot reading sounded delicious to me). Like making a birthday wish, I'm not sure one is supposed to reveal their reading but let me say that my reading was satisfying. Being a perpetual renter I am annually or biennially looking for a roommate and was assured by my pyschic that I need only wait until the end of the week, re-word and re-post my ad. She also said I should take sailing lessons.
ET#1 and I left with renewed focus and determination and wandered over to Chinatown to eat soup. My peace of mind lasted a few days, but I started getting anxious mid-week. Once again I needed help outside the earthly realm. I needed God.
I decided to place and order with totallycatholic.com.
*My friends are good enough to not just endure, but actively support my watching of bad tween movies like The Baby-Sitter's Club. A recent viewing was paired with Tostinos frozen pizzas, Doritos and queso, GirlScout Cookies and donut holes. And because we actually are adults, red wine.
Up Next, how an order from Totally Catholic might just have saved my life.
It was time to go to the psychic.
It was my mom's idea. Apparently mom advice only lasts so long, so she said to me, "You and ET#1 need to go to the psychic." Some yelp research landed us at the Tremont Tearoom. A call to make appointments rendered a chuckle; apparently business is not so great as to require appointments. So we went on a Sunday, when we could claim the $5 off discount. After stopping for breathmints and a lotto ticket, we found our way into a dark building and took the beer smelling elevator up to 3. Nag Champa and Patchouli lured us into a studio with a handful of psychics at small tables, at least one working the phone for call-ins. I paid cash upfront for our adventure and we each chose our psychic after consulting a menu of services (the combo platter of palm reading and tarot reading sounded delicious to me). Like making a birthday wish, I'm not sure one is supposed to reveal their reading but let me say that my reading was satisfying. Being a perpetual renter I am annually or biennially looking for a roommate and was assured by my pyschic that I need only wait until the end of the week, re-word and re-post my ad. She also said I should take sailing lessons.
ET#1 and I left with renewed focus and determination and wandered over to Chinatown to eat soup. My peace of mind lasted a few days, but I started getting anxious mid-week. Once again I needed help outside the earthly realm. I needed God.
I decided to place and order with totallycatholic.com.
*My friends are good enough to not just endure, but actively support my watching of bad tween movies like The Baby-Sitter's Club. A recent viewing was paired with Tostinos frozen pizzas, Doritos and queso, GirlScout Cookies and donut holes. And because we actually are adults, red wine.
Up Next, how an order from Totally Catholic might just have saved my life.
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