What I'm Reading

...and thus, so should you.


I decided, somewhat rashly, to wear flip-flops to work today.

It's too cold, and I need a pedicure.



Crowded Hizzouse

B and I went to see Crowded House at The Fillmore last night. They closed with this, which was quite lovely:

Only bad part of the night? B couldn't use his "UNcrowded House" joke, since it was a sold out show.


A Bad Case of the Mondays

My short morning run was sluggish and draggy and uninspiring, made worse by the rememberance that I ran 13.1 miles at this time last year.

Then, some fucking clown decided to close his wet umbrella directly above my head on his way into the subway station.

And I'm tired. The exhausted kind, brought on by waking up at 3:27 am for absolutely no reason.

So, I've decided that this day is good for little else than eating soup (tomato - delicious).


My Worst Nightmare

Clearly, the apocalypse is upon us.


In Between

I have reasons lately, for tottering on the edge of excitement.

There's nothing that I can fully write about yet (other than to post semi-cryptic blog entries) other than to say that I'm feeling pre-excited about the possbility of both of these things...and I'm holding a space for being more excited should they pop up.

I'd say I'm somewhere between happy/fluttery/anticipatory - and jumping up and down.

Social. Work.

When, in a social situation, someone is making slightly deragatory remarks about the population of clients that you work with (and you yourself are a survivor of the particular social problem that this person is referencing) - what is the appropriate reaction?

Because, you know, it's hard to turn it all off when I leave the office at the end of the day.

On the flip side, who wants to hang out with Social Justice Girl?


Fage Rage

When attempting to drain the liquid that accumulates on the top of yogurt, do not tilt the container too much. The incorrect angle will result in a) wasting $1.79, b) losing your afternoon snack, and c) tears.


Passover Is So Over

- The General, B's brother, and B's nephew arrived early. Early enough to witness The Removal of the Schmaltz *and* Ridiculouschick: Unshowered.
- Stewie enjoyed about 20 minutes of freedom before he was banished into the gated kitchen on permanent time out for snapping at B's nephew.
- The matzoh ball soup was a definite cause of stress. Who knew you had to mix the batter, let it set/chill for 2 hours, form into balls, boil for 1 hour, remove, set/chill for another hour, then add to broth? Answer: plenty of people knew. I would've known, had I glanced at the recipe at any other time than last minute.
- Even my Dad knew, based upon on segment he saw that morning on CBS.
- The General seemed to have a good time. Sure there were a few instances of orders being barked ("Where are the small plates for the gefilte fish! You can't put them on the meat plates! Get some small plates!") but really, given her nickname, can you expect anything less?
- Everyone brought dessert, anticipating that B's first attempt at macaroons would be a disaster.
- Happily, they were wrong.
- V, our designated Haggadah reader, gave up after about 1 page, due to boredom (his and ours) and lack of attention (ours).
- The charoset was lovely, despite the addition of truly horrible supermarket sweet wine. (How good could it have been when the label on the bottle has to stipulate that the wine 'contains no fruit juice'?)
- When it was all over, B and I collapsed on the couch, laughing over our favorite moments of the day and making plans for next year.
- Yes, we're just that crazy/stupid.


Goy-a, Oh Boy-a

(Thanks to The Reporter's SIL for post title.)

B. and I REALLY got a lot done last night - we hung pictures from our trip to California *and* put together our new furniture. I guess having family over is a real motivator to make our apartment seem like we really actually live there.

Today, I need to go to Fairway to complete the rest of the grocery list (read: the items that B couldn't find the first time around), stop by a bookstore to pick up copies of the Haggadah (you should have seen what that looked like when I tried to spell it out phonetically), make sure the schmaltz separated from the chicken stock(I haven't looked at it since I put it in the fridge at 1:36 am Wednesday morning), and compose the charoset (note to self: resist guzzling the red wine in the process).


TecmoBowl, 1992

Last night, B finally joined Facebook, so we promptly began to play Scrabulous, which is just about as addicting as Facebook itself.

(As noted previously, it is quasi totally ridiculous to be sitting in the same room with your boyfriend, communicating via computer, but I digress.)

Our game steadily progressed along(he's absolutely kicking my ass) until this afternoon, when our new furniture was delivered unassembled, and there was some additional Passover shopping to be done (The General had demands) and then there's his comedy gig in the Jerz, and he won't be home until much later, thus leaving me at a standstill.

Would it be out of line to call him at the club to demand that he makes his next move?


Rock On

When, after spending a day with your family (as we did Saturday) while your niece was having one of her "difficult" days and your parents are, well, your parents and you get back to the city too late to do any of the things that you were hoping to do (mostly, the gym) and you're running late, making The Librarian wait for you, and you have no time for dinner, and you know how cranky you can get when you're hungry...

...Stoli Razz and soda and rockin' out to this song can be helpful:

Note: Joe's Pub looked a little different from this video - thank doG.



In typical ridiculouschick fashion, I've gone completely overboard with Passover. What started out as a simple catered meal has turned into matzoh ball soup (including the chicken stock), potato casserole, charoset, roasted asparagus, and macaroons - all homemade.

Oh, and we'll also be roasting a chicken because The General is afraid we won't have enough food. (If pushed, I can admit that I'm afraid too.)

Cooking, and trying to make things perfect isn't new to me. But it's hard to know what I'm aiming for because I've never made most of these things before. For example, matzoh balls: should they be small? large? chewy? al dente? When asked, B shrugs, grins, and starts singing the "we should have ordered from Zabar's" song.


Next up: attempting to bring the apartment to levels of cleanliness that it has never achieved before.


Not So Much Oy, Not So Much Vey

The update on Passover is...it's totally fine (as long as I can make chicken stock at some point this weekend). Got a recipe for matzoh ball soup from one friend, kuggel/kugel and charoset recipes on their way from two other friends...and I've notified B that it's his job to make the flourless chocolate cake.

The Lawyer will be coming (with a bottle of wine) to laugh at me share in the festivities.

One nagging worry: haven't heard from B's mom (whom I like to call 'The General') about her expectations for the day...so things might have to shift after that conversation.


Last night - actually got my butt out to Conker Hill for trivia.

Here's what I took away:

- Renewed appreciation for the Damn Yankees, due to a question in the music category and their overall awesomeness
- A nagging and persistent need to look up this painting, also due to a question (but not so much with the awesomeness)
- 2 pints of Guinness, 1 game of Big Buck Hunter
- Admiration for B's random knowledge

oh, and

- A free bottle of premium vodka, because WE WON! (I'm probably much more excited about this than I need to be.)


My New BFF Thinks I'm A Spammer

The Facebook obsession continues unabated (you can play online Scrabble! and find your (now)fat ex-boyfriend from high school!) with one difficulty: this morning, while trying to add another friend, I was ordered to desist. I guess I've made too many requests, and they've shut off that functionality for now.

Even Facebook knows I have a problem.



I was supposed to go to Pennsylvania this weekend with B (he's doing comedy shows there) but ended up staying in the city, due to dog care issues. (Read: there was no-one available to walk Stewbert.)

It's been kinda nice, having a (relatively) plan-free weekend. When you have no social activities, you make them yourself. By joining Facebook. And becoming obsessed with it.



Since book club happened to be meeting on April 1, L. and I decided that we would attempt some hijinks (possibly wacky). We giggled over what we would do, and how it would sound, and what to say, and then giggled some more.

The night of, I waited for an appropriate break in the conversation. It was perfect, because someone had just asked me how my vacation to California had been. "Well", I said, "we took a little detour to Vegas..."

I looked around. They were all smiling. Starting to look excited.

"...and got married..."

Exclamations of surprise, and...joy?

"...and we're expecting our first child in November."

Wait, this wasn't right. They were all beaming. Happy for me. Some were starting to get up to give me hugs. L. was laughing so hard that she had her head buried in her lap. I had expected shock and silence...clearly, everyone at book club is waaaaay too nice.

Before I could get any deeper in, I came clean. Which was probably perfect timing, because, if I'd waited any longer, they'd have started organizing a baby shower.


Oy Vey

Somewhere in the craziness of last weekend, during lunch with B and B's mom, I agreed to host Passover.

Any recipes or pointers would be greatly appreciated. Or, I could google 'kugel'.

Madness. Madness, I Tell You

Just back from a couple of days in the Jerz where I:

- decorated 16 cupcakes with specially tinted pink icing *and* finely chopped raisins that spelled 'EAT ME' (Alice in Wonderland birthday theme...don't ask.)
- was the special helper at pre-school for 16 hyperactive three and four year olds
- changed a gazillion diapers (approximately)
- played about 10 billion games of 'Naughty Barbie' (Ew, no, not like that. The 4 year old version. Pervs.)
- helped to make The Peanut a special birthday breakfast

and, last but not least,

- continued my unbroken streak of reverting to a surly teenager immediately upon spending more than an hour in my parent's home.