Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Fat Boys

I stopped here to fill up my tank yesterday on the way back from Georgia. Apparently there's a restaurant inside. Classic.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The Mexican Restaurant Mural

This was painted on the wall of the Mexican restaurant my sister and I visited yesterday. I mean, what do we think is going on here?

Monday, October 29, 2012

Carrots



Yesterday I ate

The delicious JapaneseChicken and Carrots
That was a delicious food haiku for you.  You loved it. It's ok. You don't have to deny it.
So I'm sitting here at 6:47 AM, and I've just heard my brother start up his truck in the silence of the morning and pull away. My parents have put a giant TV in my bedroom, so I'm sitting here waiting for the Today Show after having eaten a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats. 
Why am I awake so early, you ask. Well, as my vacation would dictate, I must get as much sleep as my body wants. So, I went to sleep at 8:45 last night. Because that's how I roll.I'm also making the five and a half hour drive south to my sister's house to see my month-old niece. I figure the sooner I get on the road, the better.Matt Lauer is scaring me about this hurricane, but apparently I left New York at the perfect time. Taylor Swift and I will be heading away from the storm all day today. That's right, I bought the new album, and I love it. And I'm also going to listen to Carly Rae Jepsen. And Destiny's Child, but that's a given. All right, I've gotta get packin'. I hope to hit second breakfast before 10:30 AM. True spinsta fo' rill. 

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Flea Market

Day 1 of the spinsterhood vacation: Flea Market Bliss. 

My mom and I went to the local flea market which is a collection of long ramshackle sheds complete with dirt floors and makeshift compartments on one end that deteriorate into just plain tables as you reach the other end. It was everything I'd hoped it would be. 

Well, it was almost everything I'd hoped it would be. About ten years ago, it was everything I'd hoped it would be. That day, I bought a necklace I still wear to this day for only a dollar, but there was also something much better that day: kittens (duh). I mean, what's better than kittens?

So, every now and then, if you go in the springtime, there are kittens and puppies for sale at the flea market. On this particular occasion years ago, there was a woman wandering the aisles with less teeth than I have, holding a cute little short-tailed kitten. Like anyone would, I held the sweetness when the toothless woman asked if I'd like to. The little sharp-clawed thing climbed up my shirt and nestled its head in my neck, and I was in love.

I found my mother who was a few tables ahead of me and brought her back to the cat lady, asking if we could consider taking the little ball of fluff home. So we went back to the woman in her faded tee shirt and cutoff jeans so my mom could see the kitten. As the little one crawled up my mom's shirt, the snaggletooth told us a little about it.

"Yep, you see that short tail, there? Them's bobcat kittens. They gots the short tails 'cause my cat musta mated with a bobcat." 

After that, of course, we didn't buy the kitten. But there weren't any there at all this weekend, sadly. Not even bobcat kittens.

We did, however buy some boiled peanuts from a booth where a man was roasting and boiling.

Around the corner from the booth, my mom and i smelled something delicious we couldn't identify. When we rounded the curve, though, we saw a man and his wife at their porkskins booth. He was friendly, and she was not. But I bought a bag of plain and a bag of spicy. All for a grand total of $8 for a bag about the size of a large bag of potato chips. Ah, the flea market.
On the way out, we saw what I hope will adorn the front of my car someday: taxidermy. (see picture below.)

I also went to an extravagant halloween party tonight at a family friend's house where she had hired Marble Slab to come serve ice cream, a local hot dog restaurant to serve hot dogs, a caricature artist, and so many other things I can't even imagine. And I don't even want to think about how many fun sized Snickers I have eaten today. 

But I did get a nap today while I tried to watch some Law and Order: Criminal Intent, and it was glorious. I hope to take at least five more before the week is out. Hopeful there's more awesomeness to come. 




Thursday, October 25, 2012

Laundry Love

So I'm writing to you from the laundromat that sits half a block away from my apartment between a Chinese restaurant and another laundromat while this little girl sitting next to me carefully tears each page of a magazine to tiny shreds and then runs joyfully to the trash can to throw them away. And then she repeats the whole process. I think she may intend to do this for the remainder of this fine Thursday evening. While she is annoying me in a very serious way here at the laundromat, the thought occurs to me that I could really use those sweet shredding-and-disposing skills around my apartment. I wonder if this five year old needs part time employment for the holiday season. I could even pay in cookies. Or, since I believe this might please her even more than cookies, her compensation package could include a generous helping of my own personal reserve of unopened junk mail for her shredding pleasure.

Now, while I wholeheartedly have committed to unabashedly giving into my spinsterhood, I don't make a habit of spending such a fine Thursday night in my glitter velour track pants. No, I generally do more exciting things like eating cereal for dinner while watching the Thursday night lineup on NBC. However, tonight is special. Tomorrow morning I fly out for my first vacation since January to- where else?- my parents' house.

Of course there is such a thing as a "Staycation," but I'm doing myself one better. I am in such dire need of sleep that not even my crack-den of a one bedroom will do. I must commune with my homeland (and, of course, my home food). And you can expect updates from my spinsterly getaway such as the following:

(Before I write this next part, I must comment on the fact that the child is now, in fact, standing right next to me and staring straight at the side of my face as I fully ignore what I imagine,in a quieter locale, would be the sound of her small young breaths and the opening and closing of her eyelid.)

1. A very ghetto flea market.
2. Shopping for real estate just because it's exciting to imagine what my life would be like in someone else's house.
3. Eating those carrots from the Japanese place that has my picture on its wall. (I'm not even being hyperbolic here. There is actually a photo of me.)
4. Pestering my mother's cats who both remember and hate me. I've asked her to warn them to gird their loins. I somehow doubt they'll remember until the very last minute. It hurts my feelings they don't love me as much as I love them.

Well, I know you must be very sad, but my dry cycle's nearly over, and I must devote my efforts for the rest of my tenure this evening to casting dirty looks in the way of the child who is now continuously if irregularly banging her chair against the window my back now shares with hers. She has gone outside, you see, with what would seem to be the sheer objective of garnering my hateful glances. So, of course, I must oblige.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Pizza for Breakfast

Anybody who's ever eaten pizza knows it's better cold for breakfast. It's especially good for breakfast when you haven't left work before 8pm in over a month. So, here's to the pizza I'm eating in my bed while I watch Today in New York this morning because I can. A haiku for my pizza:

Green peppers and cheese
with pepperoni in bed
perfect for breakfast.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Livin' the Dream: Wallowing in Your Lameness

One of the things I really like about my spinsterhood is not ever feeling self conscious about doing whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it. Living in New York, there's a lot of pressure to do cool and exciting things all the time, but sometimes (re: most of the time), if I'm honest, I just want to do nothing. Or better yet, I want to do something I could have done living in the suburbs. I miss that, you know?

So yesterday was one of my typically enjoyable days. I wallowed in my lameness. I did the things I wanted to do without regard to whether or not they made me an attractive person or mate. And it was glorious. And here is how I did it:

Step 1: I woke up at 7AM

Unfortunately, I couldn't sleep any later, so I just went with it. After a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats with Strawberries (the best cereal in the world, clearly), I took a shower and hung out in my turquoise chenille bathrobe with giant white polka dots and a towel on my head. It's very old lady and unattractive, and of course I love it.

Step 2: I did some things I've been meaning to do.

So, last summer I just had to have a bike. I rode with some new friends all the way out to Gerritsen Beach and bought one out of some random man's basement bike shop. Well, I rode it for about two months, and then it stayed in font of my apartment building, collecting rainwater and dirt in the dips of its increasingly-papery bicycle cover. My super was paying way too much attention to it, so I decided it was time for me to let it go. I gathered some old clothes, including a sweet square-toed pair of boots I've had since eighth grade, and took all of it to the Salvation Army a few blocks away from my apartment. The only thing was, it wasn't even open yet, so I had to leave the bag of clothes by the door, and I gave the bike to an old man who was smoking a cigarette as he peered into the windows of the gated store. Weird.

Step 3: Suburban Bliss

I live in Queens. It seemed the most appropriate neighborhood when I was moving out of Manhattan. And I love it. I love that I'm a few stops away from Bloomingdales on 59th Street in one direction and a few away from Target and Queens Center mall in the other. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I frequent the Target, well, much more frequently. Yesterday, though, I was visiting Queens Center Mall with my friend Janine. I needed a pair of Nike Dunk Sky Hi's. Bad.

But of course I was really early. Most of the stores weren't even open yet, and I relished the idea of sitting at a table at the Starbucks Kiosk drinking a caramel frappuccino and writing an extra-long entry in my journal. So that's what I did. And it was awesome.

Queens Center Mall is a good place for a spinster to hang. There are, like, a million jewelry stores where you can browse fine jewelry (more on this in a later post), a Sephora in the JC Penney, and a pretty good makeup department in the Macy's. One of my favorite things to do in my spinsterhood is letting the ladies at just about any makeup counter give me what they call a "touch up," but usually turns out to be a full-face makeover. I'm into it. So Janine and I did that. Oh, and also, they have chair massages there, and of course I've done that, too. Nobody knows me in Elmhurst, Queens, so what do I care?

And we also ate in the food court. Somehow this has never stopped being an exciting prospect for me. The mall where I grew up didn't actually have a legitimate food court, so they still inspire in me a sense of wonder at all the choices in one place. As such, you can imagine the overwhelming feeling I get sometimes just walking down the street in New York. So I relish the idea that I can heat bourbon chicken off of a toothpick every time I visit the mall.

Overall, it was a successful trip to the mall.

Step 4: Going to the movies by myself

In my last semester of school, I lived only a few blocks away from the movie theater at 8th avenue and 34th street. It was during this time that I realized what a real joy going to the movies by myself can be. I can decide I'm going to the movies five minutes before I go; I can go early in the morning, if I want; no one will ask me questions or talk to me during the movie; I don't have to have that awkward moment where I try to be accommodating about seating arrangements when neither of us actually cares; I don't have to worry about whether or not they're enjoying themselves or trying to hold my hand. All in all it's a good situation for me. One time i even got the mini corn dogs but was really embarrassed when I realized I was going to have to sit out in the open while we (the audience) waited for the theater to open, therefore silently admitting to everyone that I was really planning to eat those nuggets of nasty (/delicious).

So I did that. I went to see Here Comes the Boom. And it was silly and seemingly shot in only a few days, but I liked it. And I'm not ashamed. And while I watched it, I ate the bag of mini kit-kat bars I bought at the Rite Aide before I went. And it was great.

Step 5: In for the night.

As I walked home after the movie around 7pm, i knew I wouldn't be going back out once I got home. And as I took off my pants while walking to the sofa, I knew I would be ordering a pizza online and watching old episodes of Frasier on Netflix. And so I did. And it was great.

I think i went to sleep at 9pm, and I woke up at 5:30 am this morning. I'm pretty sure I'll take a nap later. And you know what? I can do that. Because wallowing in my lameness is one of my favorite things to do.




Saturday, October 20, 2012

It takes a mighty good man to be better than no man at all.

In my late twenties, everyone tells me I'm not technically a spinster yet. Truly, spinsterhood may not be my ultimate fate, but then again it very well might be. For years, every time a boy broke my heart, I would be completely shattered. Every time I'd talk to my sister on the phone I'd end up hyperventilating with a runny nose and a horrifying drip pattern of mascara down my cheeks. Classy.

All my life my mom used to tell me the Dixie Carter quote, "It takes a mighty good man to be better than no man at all." I always thought this had something vaguely to do with men who drank to excess, were violent, farted in front of you on purpose, or picked their nose and wiped it on the furniture. But in the past year, I think i may have really figured out what is at the heart of this quote. It's not about fearing men who are less than perfect. It's about how gangsta it can be to be a single lady.

So, in honor of Dixie Carter's wisdom my mother passed onto me, I'm dedicating this blog to enjoying living in what Marjorie Hillis termed living in "solitary refinement." Well, as refined as eating oreos in your bed while watching an entire TV series in one hit on Netflix can be...