Snooze/sneeze fest

The Personal Hygiene section of the Food Protection Course is rocking my world. Allow me to rock yours.

Welcome to the club. (Eat! Eat!)

Tonight I celebrated Veronica's permanent residence status at Sweet Revenge. She was glowing with the comfort and security of obtaining a shiny Green Card.


Nothing says "American" like lots and lots of sugar.


I did my duty as a citizen, and Veronica stepped up nicely, finishing off two cupcakes.

Here to honor, serve, and protect (your food)

One of the "perks" of my job is that I have to take an online Department of Health and Mental Hygiene course. It's true, my mental state needs a cleaning. I'm pretty sure "mental hygiene" is just a fancy way of saying, "brainwash."

This class is a serious snooze fest. The worst is that I have to pay attention because along with online quizzes, there is an offline final exam, where I have to go to some government office and pass a test in order to be certified. If I fail the test, I have to take the entire online class over. I would really like for that to not happen.

It's the pictures that keep me from falling asleep:

To be here: staying with the present

Recently, I've been proven wrong: I cannot predict the future. This disproving has showed up in many aspects of my life, and I am actively working to stop trying to be psychic.

Case in point, this past weekend, Joseph invited me to the Millennium Experimental Film Screenings. My prediction: nothing short of visual torture. I expected to watch horrible, maybe graphically disturbing images, or abstract colors and patterns, probing my mind for over an hour. I was happily and completely incorrect. Though each piece brought new ideas and creative perspectives to the screen, the film that stood out was Deborah Stratman's In Order Not to Be Here, which focused on themes of insider/outsider, borders, surveillance, suburbia, isolation, and escape. The images are haunting, beautifully positioned, and the narrative is thoughtfully paced. I urgently recommend this film.

Speaking of borders, I want to send a huge CONGRATULATIONS to my dear friend, Veronica who after months of anticipation and stressful unknowing, has been approved for a Green Card!

Aikido update: Yesterday, for the very first time, I attended two Aikido classes in a row. I can't wait until the practice becomes more integrated into my mind and body.

Celebration success!

Happy birthday, amazing Kelly!


Perhaps I have tasted the best cupcake in New York. Sweet Revenge cupcakes might beat Billy's. More testing will need to happen in order to draw any serious conclusions.

pigeonholed!

I've been pigeonholed. The workers are planning a celebration for Kelly's birthday. I was told to bake the bread.


I tried to get out of it. I had to do it all alone. No help from Joe. Terror!


I am very proud of the way the loaves turned out. My best work yet!


And then there was the spilling of rolled oats all over the kitchen floor. So close to perfection.

Along with baking bread, I had to run home from Aikido to crank out two mix CDs for the birthday girl. I am not THIS crafty. Enough is enough. I think I'm finished baking bread for a while. Good night, Kelly, wherever you are. I hope you're happy!

I learned it from watching you, television.

AIKIDO! Worked hard tonight. My muscle memory is slowly returning. My body's got that amazing Aikido ache.

Northern Exposure changed my life. This week I'm focusing on becoming Marilyn, not permanently, just for now. Marilyn sits quietly, never rushes to defend or fight, and pays close attention to herself. Unfortunately, Marilyn's role on the show is the all-knowing/wise Native American, a racist stereotype. All too often, I am Dr. Joel, the stereotypically neurotic Jew. Second to Dr. Joel, I am Maggie: hostile, defensive, and always ready to get the job done. I wouldn't mind being Chris in the Morning with a little Ed mixed in. There's no getting around it: Northern Exposure is my chicken noodle soup.

leaps and bounds

Vanessa treated me to her favorite cupcakes (good, but not Billy's by any means) and to the New York City Ballet at Lincoln Center. We are trying to build a portfolio of pictures of us together since there are only a few in existence at this time. Oh shoot! We should have taken some cartwheeling ones at Lincoln Center. How could we forget the tried and true cartwheel? I'm not so happy about the prominence of my chin/jaw/arm/hand in this one, but it felt like a lot of work getting a stranger to take our picutre; I wasn't about to ask him to retake it.

The ballet was more pensive and not as invigorating as the summer season. The highlight was "Mercurial Manoeuvres" with music by Shostakovich.

During the ballet, I reflected on superstition, which I have decided is my way of coping with not being able to solve problems with logic. It turns out, I am quite superstitious. When I cannot answer hard questions, I try and find a pattern in numbers, shapes, or letters and after I've decided upon a particular pattern, I sit tight and fixate on my hypothesis. Maybe that's just a fancy way of saying I wish I could understand things that are impossible to understand.

I feel like a scarecrow.

small things, spaces

Not the prettiest cupcakes, but the flavor makes up for the look. Tonight I baked almost-vegan carrot mini-cupcakes with maple icing for my coworkers. They were easy to make, but not the most amazing cupcakes I've ever tasted. If you want amazing, I suggest scrapping the vegan diet and going for a real deal cupcake. The icing on these puppies is fantastic. I added a bit of butter (hence the not completely vegan cupcake) and licked the bowl clean.

Once I drop off these sweet treats at work, I'm off to the Toy Fair to scope out beautiful things for the business. Do children want beautiful things? I try to remember what I wanted when I was little. I remember filling a giant moving box with all my blankets and stuffed animals and climbing inside. This past Friday night, I sat inside my front closet for a long time and had a similar feeling, a containment and a contentment.

Is there love in the future?

The last time I hung out with my dear friend Veronica, she mentioned to me that she had never heard of an Eight Ball. She's from Romania and along with peanut butter, root beer, and marshmallows, Eight Balls don't exist in her homeland. For Valentine's Day, I gave Veronica her very first Eight Ball. Finally, she can have all of her questions answered, just as long as they are yes or no questions.

In her corner. Not leaving. Not now. Not ever.

There's this thing Jen H and I do to celebrate ourselves. We treat ourselves to our favorite food. My favorite food is a pumpernickel bagel with scallion cream cheese from Ess-a Bagel. Her favorite food is spaghetti and meatballs. This has been a critical time for Jen, one of those life decisions that comes from lifting the curtain and clearly seeing exactly what it is you need to make it through. Tonight it made sense for me to eat her favorite food to celebrate her strength. It should be noted that spaghetti with red sauce is one of my least favorite foods, but tonight I needed to make an exception. I stopped by Max in Tribeca before heading home and snuggling up with a bowl of one of my least favorite foods. I loved every bite! (Luckily, I ordered the kid's size.)

back at it

Yesterday I braved Aikido once again. Everyone was welcoming and teased me about being gone for so long. I'm going to try to stick with it for a long time.


Sugano Sensei taught class, setting a calm and meditative tone, which I needed since I was nervous about returning to the Dojo.

I made a new friend, a beginner named Ilivia. She'll be in most of my classes.

My body is very happy to be back.

bagels and puppies

What a beautiful day to be a dog!

Today's work task:
Call all the bagel places in the city and find a wholesaler. Ask for samples from each bagel supplier.

First up: We sampled H&H Bagels this morning. We weren't impressed.

Another bingo success

Everything changed at Bingo Tuesdays when Carolyn arrived.


We rejoiced at Carolyn's big win.


She may still work at my old, stinky job, but she's a free bird at Bingo Tuesdays. She's sneaky that way.


Harmony and Alexis were satisfied.


Let's face it, Carolyn is the winner here.

Home and happy. Accomplished in my success. What is my success? Unclear at this time, but I'll rest knowing that Carolyn is a winner for all of us. Maybe I'm dumbing down. Maybe I need to get back to the writing. But tonight, I'm a bingo champion, once-removed. I can live with that. Or can I? Stay tuned.

sex, food, weather

Joe took me to meet the guru, Dr. Ruth on Friday. We missed her book signing, but I still received the Dr. Ruth touch. Why did she stroke my giant chin? Maybe it was impossible to miss. Anyway, her life story is fascinating. Way to go, Member of the Tribe!

Then Joe treated me to Stove, a place we'd never eaten before in Astoria, which was delicious.

Here in New York, it's as warm as warm can be, or at least as warm as winter can be.

Please explain why this is happening.

Sex toys just progressed to the horrifying category. Read the print that says: "You have your candidate. Let him love you back."

Thank you, Riva for bringing the Obama vibrator and the creepiest website ever to my attention.