Did I mention I like wine?
A few years ago this was a regular sized vase that sat on my kitchen counter.
Now it’s art. Yup. Art.
Not a raging addiction. Nope. It’s not that at all.
This past weekend when we had our friends and family over, someone casually asked if I’d gotten the corks at Home Goods. They sell them you know. Huh.
Did not know that.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
Another party goer suggested a craft I could do with them.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
I get a lot of slack for this…collection.
Every Easter there’s an aunt that includes it in her prayers, as in, “please God don’t let it fill up anymore.”
The way I look at it, it’s only half full.
I’m a wine optimist.
09 May 2013 6 Comments
Did I mention I like wine?
08 May 2013 2 Comments
07 May 2013 Leave a Comment
This picture is circa 2000.
I had just gotten a job at a Fortune 500 in NYC. After two years of being at home with my baby, I was back at work as an event planner and loving it. Technically I wasn’t a planner until a year later – in the beginning I was an admin.
An admin to an insane, crazy, brilliant woman who ran our group. The woman who gave me a 45 minute lecture on using colored folders instead of beige folders (the colors distracted her as she walked by my cube). The woman who called me from the Tarmac while boarding a flight to tell me she doesn’t like prop planes and why hadn’t I known that and I better fix it ASAP (I couldn’t because there were only prop planes flying to this part of Colorado. I had offered to book her a car the day before when I warned her about this but she hadn’t been listening, something about researching the perfect toilet – no joke).
But all those moments that would have driven me to quit turned into funny stories we shared. Funny war stories at the lunch table.
We worked really really hard. Almost 24/7. Weekends. Holidays. For no money. It was rough.
But every day, we had lunch together – the whole group. There are a few ladies missing from this pic but this was the core group. We also had a Swiss National and a Brit.
We bitched, we ranted, we raved, but most of all – we laughed.
This restaurant lunch was a rarity. Almost all lunches were either in the cafeteria or at a table on our floor.
No one from other groups ever joined – probably because they weren’t invited. This was anti-networking. This was cocooning.
The majority of the lunch was used to make fun of each other. And there was plenty of material. Marriages, weirdo eating habits, childhood traumas – all ripe for the picking. We left our egos in our cube. Belly laughter ensued.
Then we’d go back to working our asses off.
There were weddings, babies, break-ups, promotions, and more.
The crazy boss lady left. And shockingly, in hindsight, I would miss her. Aside from the batshit crazy episodes, I learned a lot from her. And from all those ladies.
It was and continues to be the best job I ever had.
(not sure why I have glasses on? contact lense malfunction that morning?)
24 Apr 2013 4 Comments
in I need to tell you about this right now Tags: Alergy, Bike Riding, children, Creek, Family, freedom and independence, health, humor, Kids, Life, mental-health, parenting, Park, Photography, Picnic, transportation, Water
This is a state park near us. We go to walk, to picnic, to lay about – actually that’s what I go for.
My family goes there to bike.
I think I’ve told you before. Haven’t I? It’s no biggie. Everyone has something. Some people can’t eat a peanut. Some can’t have dairy (the horror). Some are diabetic. I too have a debilitating challenge. I can’t ride a bike. Well, technically I may be able to actually ride a bike without killing myself, but I really really don’t want to.
My family tried to have an intervention a couple of years ago. They were horrified for me. My husband lived on his bike throughout his childhood. Both my kids adore their bikes. They gave me a long list of reasons why I’d love it. The freedom! The independence! So I finally caved in and they bought me a fancy bike. Took me out every night to practice. And I tried. I acted excited. I seemed enthused. It was awful.
I don’t like riding a bike. It makes me nervous. It makes me feel out of control. It gives me zero happiness. Freedom and independence are not for me. Sorry.
This causes great sadness in my family. I’m like a traitor among them. An alien. They’ll never be able to ride like a full family.
They’ll get over it.
14 Apr 2013 Leave a Comment
I like pretty pictures.
If the pictures happen to be about food or home decor – all the better.
This past Christmas a new pal gave me a really great book called Edible Selby. Although I didn’t know it was great until now. I don’t deserve new friends. Don’t tell my old friends.
This past weekend I was reading the New York Times and found an article by the same author about a taco stand in California. This is why I love the Times. You may read it for the late breaking political and social news. I read it for its taco coverage.
Todd Selby is an artist, an author, a humorist and more. I have been reading his book all weekend.
It’s not a cookbook. It’s a book about cooks and cooking and food.
14 Apr 2013 1 Comment
in Brave New World Tags: Arcade, Beach, Boardwalk, Family, food, funnel cake, Games, gaming, GTL, humor, Jersey Shore, Life, Nature, New Jersey, outdoors, Photography, Restaurants, Shore, Snooki, videogames
We live about 40 minutes from the beach. More specifically, the Jersey Shore. You know, the place that gave birth to GTL, Snooki, and the Situation. But it’s also the place that gave us big old boardwalk slices of pizza, funnel cake, arcade games and oh yeah, the beach.
Because it was sunny. Because it was a perfect 65 degrees. Because I needed to extract myself away from the TV. We headed to the beach.
This was also the place hit hard by Hurricane Sandy – and although they were still rebuilding parts of the boardwalk – doors were open.
Here’s my babies playing an overpriced game that can’t possibly be worth the crappy stuffed toy that they will eventually win. Everything is back to normal.
Our day ended with this.I love the shore.
05 Apr 2013 3 Comments
On Easter Sunday, thanks to our lovely Kosher neighbors, I had Matza, or Matzah, or Matzos for the very first time.
I’m in love
Unleavened, unsalted, unbelievably perfect. I’m sure all my Jewish pals are rolling their eyes but listen, there aren’t a lot of carb items left in the world that I don’t know about. This was a revelation.
With peanut butter. With cheese. With coffee. It’s the perfect vehicle for all kinds of fat.
I am truly thankful. Amen.
04 Apr 2013 Leave a Comment
We took a quick trip to DC after Easter – literally. As in we cleaned up, packed leftovers, said goodbye to our family and hit the road.
My husband and I have both been to DC often, but just for work. From train to conference room to train. This was an all out tourist trip.
We landed in the capital at the stroke of 11pm. After miles and miles and miles of traffic, here’s what we saw heading into our hotel. Pretty friggin cool.
For the next two days we traveled by trolley, monument to monument, museum to museum.
It was cherry blossom festival time but a late snow meant no blooming trees (actually there were a couple but we couldn’t see them with all the Japanese tourists surrounding them. True story).
This is Julia Child’s kitchen. Recreated spoon by spoon at the Smithsonian. This was my favorite monument in all of DC. Cluttered. Utilitarian. Completely unMartha. It was awesome.
Thanks Easter bunny.
30 Mar 2013 Leave a Comment
This is Pulaski’s meat market. Every year I trek there for kielbasa, ham, pierogies, etc. for our mix and match Easter. North American Catholic traditions, check! Eastern European homage to pork, check!
I wait my turn with old school Polish, Ukrainian, Czech couples. One of these things is not like the other. And that thing is me people.
I get my number and start the wait. I’m #93. They are on #18.
No, you can’t wander about the market while your number is called. There’s no side shopping while you wait. This is like the soup nazi for meat. Wait your turn. Know what you want. Do not hesitate.
But I’m not scared. This isn’t my first polka. I may look completely and utterly out of place. But I know exactly what to order.
2 1/2 hours later. Success.
It’s not Easter until my Subaru smells like kielbasa.