I’m not suggesting it was the unusual flavor combination of the guacamole at Momocho that made the meal go so smoothly–two children under 4 years old and not one tantrum the entire time.
Monthly Archives: December 2013
I’d already decided I was going to run the NYC marathon in 2015, so it’s not like joining NYRR solidified anything I didn’t know. Once I make a decision to do something, I do it. Especially when I “publicize” it.
Still, officially joining the group that will facilitate my entry into the marathon was pretty cool. Read the rest of this entry »
From the first time I saw the trailer for Google Glass where the guy is waiting for his friend to show up and GG tells him, “She’s right around the corner,” I was terrified for this to become a real thing.
Maybe I’m being too paranoid. Maybe I’m being too delusional to assume anyone would ever care enough about me to want to know my every move. Regardless, I’m scared to live in a world where someone can ask a ridiculous looking headpiece where I am and be told the answer. Read the rest of this entry »
When I was a kid, my mother would serve us grapefruit cut in half, so that we would have to scoop out the sections with a spoon–the way, I’m pretty sure, this fruit is usually served. However, she would pre-slice the sections with a knife so we could easily get the fruit out.
It was amazing, and we had no idea.
Recently, I bought a grapefruit and tried to pre-slice the fruit for myself. I ended up squirting myself with juice in the eye every 3 seconds, and by the time I was done, the fruit was so mangled that I could barely find anything to scoop out. Plus, even after pre-slicing it, it was still very difficult pulling it from its pulp.
I decided then that I would never buy another grapefruit. Read the rest of this entry »
Phoebe was talking about a truncated version of It’s a Wonderful Life when she said, “It’s a sucky life and just when you think it can’t suck any more it does.” But she might as well have been talking about The Lowland.
Basically, this is a book about a family, every member of which has a terrible life, either because they are horrible people, or because life sucks sometimes a lot. Read the rest of this entry »
This is the type of place you go to when it’s a chilly–but not frigid because you’ll have to wait outside for your name to be called (actually, they call you by the number in your party and your favorite toy, which you reveal when you put your name in, which is sort of cute but also sort of weird when someone says their favorite toy is Drunk Barbie because you’re pretty sure that isn’t a real toy and you suspect maybe some people aren’t taking this seriously, which is a shame because you hate when people don’t follow the rules)–weekend afternoon and you’ve just run more than 5 miles and all you feel like doing is relaxing…and eating.
The reason going to Queens Comfort requires this sort of scenario is because the food here is not light. Read the rest of this entry »
My least favorite Christmas song is “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” because it’s ridiculously depressing. When I hear it I imagine someone sitting by herself in her house, decorating a tree, and missing–someone. Whether she’s alone due to death, or distance, or something less distinctive isn’t clear. All that matters is that she’s alone.
And if there’s any time when being alone sucks, it’s Christmas time.