For your special day, we're going to go to Penny Lane, have some booze and look for places to buy some cheap Lady Stetson. Perhaps we'll tell some Shalen & Michelle stories - dancing in DC, drinking in DC, drunk on the side of the road in DC (I was so able to get up, just didn't want to). Way too many to recount.
Love you - happy birthday!
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
There's no place like New York...
Last week, we inducted my husband and my brother's girlfriend into our yearly tradition of getting up at 5:00AM, packing various empty coolers and assorted shit into the car, and driving to the Bronx to shop for goodies for Christmas.
There were six of us this year - all packed in to a rented white minivan with a heater that brought the car from oh-my-god-i'm-going-to-throw-up cold to jesus-christ-Rob-stop-taking-off-your-clothes-we'll-turn-the-heater-down hot.
It was dark when we left the house - dark and icy cold. Kevin and I commandeered the captain's chairs as I had not yet discovered the beauty and spaciousness of the back bench.
I identified buildings in the skyline to Kevin; Amy wanted to know where the twin towers had stood; Rob drooled and petted the window when we passed Giants stadium.
Driving into the city was the easiest it has ever been. Thanks to the NYC transit strike it took us 5 minutes to get over the GW bridge (with the sunlight blinding us from the Hudson) and the Major Deegan was clear all the way to the Bronx. Amazing, really.
The Bronx was packed like usual - 3-5 cars all occupying the exact same space within .01 seconds of each other. We drove by Mrs. Genovese's stoop (all the kids were nice to her, lest they get whacked by Frankie), the Bronx Zoo, the Botanical Gardens, White Castle, Mamma's house - where my dad and aunt grew up - on E. 191st Street, and saw the new buildings at Fordham.
We even found parking in the Belmont district off of Arthur Avenue - the whole reason for our trip.
I love this place - cheeses and salamis hanging from wood beams, Italian nuts by the boxful (that would be chestnuts, by the way), ribbons of honeycomb tripe displayed in refrigerated glass bins, people speaking in Italian wherever we went. We ate combination antipast and spaghett (the vowels at the end of words are silent if you're a New York Italian) at Mario's (for you die-hard Soprano's fans, you've seen it on the show). Their clams oreganate are incredible...
While in Mario's, I watch the scar-faced, wine drinking guy behind us lean over the pink-clothed table to talk to his friend. His friend is complaining about a problem in his house. Scarface tells him to talk to Sal's "wall guy" - he can fix anything.
In that moment, it dawns on me that everyone in NY has got a "guy" or a "lady" to take care of problems. In other places of the country, I hear words like "contractor," "carpenter," "repairman," "stylist," "salesman," etc. etc. In NY, everyone knows a "guy" or a "lady" who can take care of things. Sal's got a wall guy to fix the plaster. Joey knows a loan guy who can hook you up. My dad swears by the cheese guy past Belmont street for dry mozzarella and romano. Everyone's got a guy.
We made it to Addeo & Sons, the Market and spent around $300 with the cheese guy. And we're still eating whip-cream eclairs from Egidio's. January will be filled with Slim Fast and exercise.
I love the Bronx. I love the fact that my husband experienced the sights and sounds of it. I love that my favorite Christmas song (The Waitresses' "Christmas Wrapping") was blaring through the narrow streets as we walked to the salami and pork store. I love that when we left the Bronx, we drove into Manhattan at sunset to go see the tree in Rockefeller Center. I love the Bergdorf windows and the ceiling at FAO Schwartz. I love midtown, and taking newbies to experience Times Square.
I love watching my dad drive through the city, bouncing up and down in the driver's seat wearing his Yankee's jacket and Santa hat and singing along to the radio as he cuts people off. I love that we laughed so hard we were crying (and sometimes nearly peeing).
I love the city.
There were six of us this year - all packed in to a rented white minivan with a heater that brought the car from oh-my-god-i'm-going-to-throw-up cold to jesus-christ-Rob-stop-taking-off-your-clothes-we'll-turn-the-heater-down hot.
It was dark when we left the house - dark and icy cold. Kevin and I commandeered the captain's chairs as I had not yet discovered the beauty and spaciousness of the back bench.
I identified buildings in the skyline to Kevin; Amy wanted to know where the twin towers had stood; Rob drooled and petted the window when we passed Giants stadium.
Driving into the city was the easiest it has ever been. Thanks to the NYC transit strike it took us 5 minutes to get over the GW bridge (with the sunlight blinding us from the Hudson) and the Major Deegan was clear all the way to the Bronx. Amazing, really.
The Bronx was packed like usual - 3-5 cars all occupying the exact same space within .01 seconds of each other. We drove by Mrs. Genovese's stoop (all the kids were nice to her, lest they get whacked by Frankie), the Bronx Zoo, the Botanical Gardens, White Castle, Mamma's house - where my dad and aunt grew up - on E. 191st Street, and saw the new buildings at Fordham.
We even found parking in the Belmont district off of Arthur Avenue - the whole reason for our trip.
I love this place - cheeses and salamis hanging from wood beams, Italian nuts by the boxful (that would be chestnuts, by the way), ribbons of honeycomb tripe displayed in refrigerated glass bins, people speaking in Italian wherever we went. We ate combination antipast and spaghett (the vowels at the end of words are silent if you're a New York Italian) at Mario's (for you die-hard Soprano's fans, you've seen it on the show). Their clams oreganate are incredible...
While in Mario's, I watch the scar-faced, wine drinking guy behind us lean over the pink-clothed table to talk to his friend. His friend is complaining about a problem in his house. Scarface tells him to talk to Sal's "wall guy" - he can fix anything.
In that moment, it dawns on me that everyone in NY has got a "guy" or a "lady" to take care of problems. In other places of the country, I hear words like "contractor," "carpenter," "repairman," "stylist," "salesman," etc. etc. In NY, everyone knows a "guy" or a "lady" who can take care of things. Sal's got a wall guy to fix the plaster. Joey knows a loan guy who can hook you up. My dad swears by the cheese guy past Belmont street for dry mozzarella and romano. Everyone's got a guy.
We made it to Addeo & Sons, the Market and spent around $300 with the cheese guy. And we're still eating whip-cream eclairs from Egidio's. January will be filled with Slim Fast and exercise.
I love the Bronx. I love the fact that my husband experienced the sights and sounds of it. I love that my favorite Christmas song (The Waitresses' "Christmas Wrapping") was blaring through the narrow streets as we walked to the salami and pork store. I love that when we left the Bronx, we drove into Manhattan at sunset to go see the tree in Rockefeller Center. I love the Bergdorf windows and the ceiling at FAO Schwartz. I love midtown, and taking newbies to experience Times Square.
I love watching my dad drive through the city, bouncing up and down in the driver's seat wearing his Yankee's jacket and Santa hat and singing along to the radio as he cuts people off. I love that we laughed so hard we were crying (and sometimes nearly peeing).
I love the city.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Getting Wicked at The Kennedy Center
Last night was opening night for "Wicked" at The Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. I now remember why I want to leave Arizona and move back to the east coast. Theatre is an event, not somewhere to wear your shredded jeans and scrappy band shirt.
So - we got all pretty and met good friends to start our evening at Asia Nora. The food was delish-tastic as was the modern asian atmosphere.
To avoid sounding like a gushing child, I will not describe our experience at The Kennedy Center.
Wicked. is. the. best. show. I've. ever. seen. Ever.
The costumes were brilliant, the set - innovative and interesting. The leads had voices that intermittently stopped me from breathing because I was afraid to miss a note. The ending was the only slight disappointment, but I won't reveal.
Big standing ovation.
So - we got all pretty and met good friends to start our evening at Asia Nora. The food was delish-tastic as was the modern asian atmosphere.
To avoid sounding like a gushing child, I will not describe our experience at The Kennedy Center.
Wicked. is. the. best. show. I've. ever. seen. Ever.
The costumes were brilliant, the set - innovative and interesting. The leads had voices that intermittently stopped me from breathing because I was afraid to miss a note. The ending was the only slight disappointment, but I won't reveal.
Big standing ovation.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Baby, it's cold outside
I realize that cold weather isn't a novelty to most. However, to me - the Phoenix girl - cold weather is a bit of a phenomenon.
I love blowing fake smoke into the air, jumping onto the cold crunching ice, and wearing scarves of every color and texture.
And, I love Washington and Virginia in winter!
I love blowing fake smoke into the air, jumping onto the cold crunching ice, and wearing scarves of every color and texture.
And, I love Washington and Virginia in winter!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
tuesday wednesday thursday friday
Ok, show of hands, who is actually working right now? Well, if you are reading this, you aren't working so put your goddamn hand down.
As you can see, Roxy isn't working either. She's making her naughty list so she can give nice presents, dreaming of a white Christmas, looking forward to seeing the giant Yule log in Washington DC, and remembering that despite her tribulations (and her bad mood as of late), she's an incredibly lucky girl.
Roxy's wish for you is to be surrounded by wonderful things this season, and year round. Roxy also hopes that no matter what (or if) you celebrate, that you remember there are always people in desperate need (no matter what time of year) and that you give what you can to others.
As you can see, Roxy isn't working either. She's making her naughty list so she can give nice presents, dreaming of a white Christmas, looking forward to seeing the giant Yule log in Washington DC, and remembering that despite her tribulations (and her bad mood as of late), she's an incredibly lucky girl.
Roxy's wish for you is to be surrounded by wonderful things this season, and year round. Roxy also hopes that no matter what (or if) you celebrate, that you remember there are always people in desperate need (no matter what time of year) and that you give what you can to others.
Friday, December 09, 2005
Darkness Falls
"It's a shaky foundation that this house of cards is built upon," she said.
I stop, midsentence.
Why do I suddenly feel uprooted? Dark thoughts escape from their respective cupboards in my brain. My footing hasn't been so solid as of late.
For the rest of the night, my stomach is churning. I'm sticky inside - sticky and angry. My heart is raging as if I'm on the verge of something terrible. Spontaneous combustion? A frenzied fit? Meltdown? I'm not sure.
I'm angry lately - at the world, at myself - so much so I scare my reflection. I can't pinpoint the reason. I feel unsettled - like I left my life in progress. Segmented pieces, unfinished ends. And I want to go back to finish them. Does my anger come from holding on?
I've always been one to hold on too long. I grasp a split moment to my breast and squeeze and stretch it for as long as possible. I stuff it into my heart, obsess over it, memorize it's associated smells and sidelong glances. When I was little, I would write in my diary about people I hadn't seen for years. I'd wonder about them. I sometimes still do.
I want to peek at lives that have gone on without me.
Really, I should practice the ebb and flow of letting go.
I stop, midsentence.
Why do I suddenly feel uprooted? Dark thoughts escape from their respective cupboards in my brain. My footing hasn't been so solid as of late.
For the rest of the night, my stomach is churning. I'm sticky inside - sticky and angry. My heart is raging as if I'm on the verge of something terrible. Spontaneous combustion? A frenzied fit? Meltdown? I'm not sure.
I'm angry lately - at the world, at myself - so much so I scare my reflection. I can't pinpoint the reason. I feel unsettled - like I left my life in progress. Segmented pieces, unfinished ends. And I want to go back to finish them. Does my anger come from holding on?
I've always been one to hold on too long. I grasp a split moment to my breast and squeeze and stretch it for as long as possible. I stuff it into my heart, obsess over it, memorize it's associated smells and sidelong glances. When I was little, I would write in my diary about people I hadn't seen for years. I'd wonder about them. I sometimes still do.
I want to peek at lives that have gone on without me.
Really, I should practice the ebb and flow of letting go.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Rocking out to Europe
Well, not really. But I am sitting at my desk figuring "The Final Countdown" to my vacation. Not including today - 6 business days 'til freedom.
For 17 days, 6:00AM will not exist. I will not commute with idiots who were licensed through Mr. Toad's Wild Ride Driving Skool. I will not feign perkiness.
I will however celebrate with the people who mean the most to me and drink wine by the fire. And I will smile a LOT!
For 17 days, 6:00AM will not exist. I will not commute with idiots who were licensed through Mr. Toad's Wild Ride Driving Skool. I will not feign perkiness.
I will however celebrate with the people who mean the most to me and drink wine by the fire. And I will smile a LOT!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
New tunes, new books...Check out the Sidebar!
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