Empire State of Mind

Yesterday marked the two month countdown until we pack our car with my belongings and drive south and west to New York City for one last time.  When I left for Boston back in the Fall of 2008, I was happy, relieved, and excited to leave The Big Apple for the smaller city of Boston.  

I've started to compile a list of things I want to do once I move back.  I guess the silver lining to the distinct possibility of being jobless on my return to the Upper East Side is that I can cross stuff off this list relatively quickly.  

1.  I can't count how many times I've ran in Central Park, but regardless of what's going on in life, the loop around the reservoir provides a sense of calm in a city of craziness.  I can't wait to resume my daily runs in the greatest park in the world.  

 

2.  Catch several games at Yankee Stadium.  As a daughter, sister, and wife of passionate maniacal Yankee fans, going to Yankee games has been a staple to my summer for many years.  

3.  Catch up with old friends at the Olive Garden.  Don't be judgey:  I've already explained my penchant for chain restaurants.  If you're judging me, you're not alone because I have other friends that like going to real NYC restaurants.  My favorite place in the city isn't really known for its food (quite frankly, it sucks), but I love it for the memories and scenery.  

4.  Until I land a job and can afford to buy myself an iPad (this name still reminds me of brands such as Kotex or Always) or an Amazon Kindle, I want to go to the New York Public Library to get books.  We live in a Manhattan rental apartment, where space is at a premium.  I don't want to buy more books that just end up collecting dust on an overstuffed bookcase.  Plus, my heroine Carrie Bradshaw *almost* got married here. 

I never thought I'd miss you, NYC.  Don't let me down when I move back!

Hiatus Schmiatus

Anything to not actually be proactive about finding a job, I spent a few days away in the southwest region of the United States. Specifically, I was on a jaunt in New Mexico and Arizona. It was an incredible experience of sorts, but adding to the list of foods that I love but should not eat is frybread. Being the classy gal that I am, I love bread and anything that's fried = Match made in heaven. (I blame my midwestern roots and a mom forever devoted to exercise for my lack of good taste in the culinary arts).

Unfortunately, my camera broke (RIP Kodak Easyshare), so here is a photo of my new love.

The fun did not stop there. Put beans, lettuce, cheese, and green chile sauce on top and you have a party in your mouth (TWSS). The party stops about 2 hours later right before bed, FYI. Just sayin'.

(photo via: www.blogchef.net)

Not Feeling so Merree...

These three pictures pretty much sum up how I've been feeling all week. I'm sour, agitated and bitter. And in case you were wondering, that second photo is NOT me. I did sport a similar haircut for much of my youth. Try not to be jealous.

Now that I think of it, this reminds me of the time I got my haircut in the Philippines. My mom, brother and I spent the summer in the Philippines back in 1986. My mom took me to get my haircut and I pretty much got the same haircut as the girl (or maybe it's a boy?) in the picture above. Not that the hairstyle I had before was that much better, but I assure you, the end result of the Filipino stylist's vision was not pretty. I recall straight short bangs with a feathering effect, if that makes any sense. Anyway, I left crying and hid underneath the bed when I got home. Wow, I was already vain way back then. Interesting.

As usual, big brother comes to the rescue: Ryan told me if I ate a lot of cheese, my hair would grow quickly. Like many of the other lies he told me as a child, I believed him. I went downstairs and grabbed the largest can of Kraft cheese and started eating it. (Filipinos eat their cheese from a can. Don't ask.) I don't recall waking up with long locks of hair, but I do recall a massive stomach ache that may or may not have been the cause of a trip to the Filipino emergency room. For the record, I think the trip to the ER had something to do with my inability to swim in the ocean with my mouth closed which caused me to drink a lot of dirty ocean water. Life 1, Me 0.