Sunday, April 26, 2009

THSM... again

So it's been hot this weekend. Not warm. Not toasty. HOT. Today it was 89 degrees, which is apparently a record high for this time of year. When it's a particularly warm New York night, my singing man is sure to make an appearance. I've pretty much determined, based on all his musical choices, that he's ga ga gay. His late-night serenade last night cemented this opinion.

Lady GaGa - Poker Face

Some things have been going on in my life that I don't feel like talking about. Plus I've been outside enjoying the uhmazing weather. Hence the lack of posts over the past couple of weeks. Just consider it a tiny hiatus. I'll be back in full force (I hope) soon.

Until next time.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

THSM returns

I almost forgot to post that last night around midnight my singing man returned! I hadn't heard him in a week or two, so I was beginning to become concerned. All for naught, because last night his lovely voice drifted through my open window, loud and clear. The song this time? Naturally.

Until next time.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Tex Mex Epix

Yesterday as the work day was winding to a close, Z and I were chatting online and I expressed my sudden-onset desire for post-work chips and dip. Not like potato chips and french onion dip (though right now that sounds amazing) but like corn chips and thick, gooey, amazing cheese dip--the kind you can only get at faux-Mexican restaurants in the South.

I live in Spanish Harlem now, and I've eaten at a few restaurants there, and while the food is AMAZING and fresh and authentically Mexican, there's nothing quite like a heaping bowl of queso. Unsure of where else to go for this Southern delight, I googled Moe's and found that there is only one in Manhattan. So after work, Z and I ventured to the East Village for a friendly, "Welcome to Moe's!" and lots of delish Tex Mex.

Upon Z's insisting, I ordered the "bowl" instead of the "cup" of queso, which turned out to be (as I predicted) way too much. Or just the right amount, depending on how you look at it. We had about half the bowl left, which of course I bagged up with an assload of tortilla chips and took home with me.


All in all, an amazing, gluttonous meal. To make up for the 234098239048 calories we consumed, Z and I walked from 21st to 86th street. Yep, 65 blocks. That's 3.2 miles for those of you who are interested. It took about an hour and 15 minutes, and it was totally worth the time. We saw lots of cute restaurants and bars and puppehs and all that stuff you see when you walk around Manhattan. We stopped at 86th, about 10 blocks short of East Harlem, because my hips started hurting.

In short, I am fat and old.

Until next time.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Home, times three

Normally I would start this post with an apology, because (once again) I am sucking it up in the blogosphere. Before I moved to New York and even for the first couple of months after I got here, I was all about my BtoA blog, and I updated at least once every few days. Slowly it slipped into once a week, and then shortly after that, once every ten days. Now it's been a full 13 days. Instead of apologizing, however, I'm here to say that I'm actually really happy about it. I'm not sorry, because the significant lack of blogging has been caused by a significant increase in awesome life experiences, which I will of course share with y'all now.

I went home and to Oxford last weekend. It was pretty uneventful. I ate Ajax and Taylor and went out to the new Parrish's and City Grocery. Everything seemed basically the same. It felt weird to be back in the South, riding around in cars and driving and feeling how slow everything really is compared with NY life. While I still miss my parents, going home was a nice reminder that the South is not where I want to be right now. Maybe when I'm older and want to have a family and stuff, but for now I just know NY is where I'm supposed to be.

I started my new job last Monday. It pays, and while for the purposes of office duties I am technically an "editorial intern," my supervisor gave me the okay to put "freelance editorial assistant" on my resume. She told me this on my first day, and it was pretty much an amazing start to a week that would prove to be equally amazing, as far as first weeks go. I got to write, and I have several writing assignments pending. Of course I also do entry level duties like shipping stuff, sorting mail, taking phone calls, and transcribing, but I am doing all these things for money in New York in the worst economy in recent memory, and thus I do them with nothing but joy.

I went to DC this weekend to see A, and it was basically a perfect weekend. The weather was uhmazing, nearly 70 degrees both days and sunny. I had brunch with all his friends, and they're hilarious and tatted up and amazing. We went to the National Museum of American History, which I found surprisingly enjoyable, aside from the nauseating number of tourists. We went to the cherry blossom festival, which was fun but also really touristy, vom. The trees are beautiful though, and we sat by the tidal basin under the blooms and watched ducks as the sun went down. I know, I know. Blablabla TMI.

So gorg

We celebrated my new job Saturday night; he bought us a bottle of champagne (nom nom nom), which we promptly consumed while we watched Twilight (yes, lolz) before heading out to the bar where he works most weekends. PS, Twilight = probs the worst movie ever made, but that didn't stop A from constantly asking questions and sitting on the edge of his seat while Bella's pathetic fate was decided. Lolz best boyf ever? Mayhaps.

I finally feel like things are coming together for me. I have a job that I already love, and even though I still look forward to the day when I'm full-time with benefits, I am learning the value of patience in a terrible economy while in the meantime just doing the best I can professionally. When I left for DC Friday evening and I watched the city disappear in the distance, it dawned on me that I am literally making my dreams come true. I'm not by any means finished with this process, but I am at least through the first and most difficult stage. Since I was a little girl I dreamed of being a writer, and since the first time I came to NYC I knew I was meant to live here. And here I am, getting paid to write and taking the 6 train to work everyday and living in a brownstone walk-up in Harlem. How many people can say they've even attempted what they always dreamed of doing? Not many. I'm in love with my life right now, and I can only be gratious and humbly accept the amazing things I am lucky enough to experience.

Until next time.