The Big Apple

Greetings from a Bolt Bus! I just enjoyed a lovely weekend in New York City with my two college friends Stacey and Stephanie. They are living the post- journalism school NYC dream together! Stace is working at Fox News (nope, she's not a republican) and Steph is working at Parenting Magazine (nope, she's not a mom.) The two of them share an adorable apartment in Astoria, Queens. Everything they need is literally right outside their door: a laundromat, nail salon, grocery store, bakery, produce stand- it's just how you imagine living in NYC is supposed to be!

Many of my college friends found their way to the Big Apple after graduation and we caught up with a few of them Saturday night. Katie, my roommate for 2 years, is now working in an ad agency, and our old next-door-neighbor Zach is continuing to hone his writing skills at Columbia. Everyone is doing really well! We're all so old and grown up.

When girls get together in NYC, there's an essential checklist to complete: Shoe shopping, mani-pedi's, cooking, movies, cocktails. Oh, and of course- a boozy Sunday brunch! Mine was fit for a queen. I couldn't believe I got to eat the food in front of me. I had fried potato-bread waffles topped with poached eggs and a spinach-Gruyere cheese hollandaise sauce... it was so pretty and soooo delicious. It inspired me to do more creative brunch cooking!

Even though it's sad to go back and face the real world after a mini vacation, I've gotta give thanks to whoever invented the Bolt Bus business model. They deserve to be canonized. I am typing this entry from a comfortable, spacious leather seat on my computer using free wifi. The bus is clean, the people on it are quiet, and we departed right on time. And best of all? It cost me $19. What a way to travel!

Dad is here next week. YAYYYYY!
Peace and love.

Chiste Mal...

Was one of my college nicknames. It's spanish for "bad joke." I earned it junior year because I was prone to so many awkward mishaps. Nothing dangerous... nothing actually tragic... just the kind of dilemmas that are the stuff of sitcoms.

This weekend's adventure was a perfect example. My friend Brian and I found a deal for an hour-long massage for 45 dollars. It was an amazing bargain- and we decided to get together, make brunch and treat ourselves to our coupon on Saturday.

The spa was in Arlington, VA- which is the opposite end of DC from my house. We drove out together and followed the directions to the address. The instructions from the spa said "free parking in the back." We pulled around the back of the building, but it wasn't clear if we were at the right place. "Do you think this is it?" I asked Brian. "Yeah, this is fine!" He replied. "Besides, even if it's not, it's a Saturday, no one will bother your car back here." Fateful last words...

We walked around to the front of the building and headed a few doors down the strip of shops to the spa. Both of us enjoyed a lovely massage, but we came out looking like something the cat dragged in. Every inch of us was slicked up with grease from the massage- including our hair. I looked like I hadn't showered in days. Brian's hair was spiky and slick. We thanked and tipped our masseuse and headed out into the beautiful day.

And as we rounded the corner of the building, of course- the car was gone.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I screamed. And then I broke my lenten resolution of not cursing with a special string of unbridled expletives.

Only when it was too late did we notice the "Private parking, vehicles towed at owner's expense" sign. We called the number. They had my car- but we had about a mile to walk to get to it!

We were an absolute sight to behold. No one should be seen in public as greasy and foul as the two of us were. We had to walk through Arlington's cutest neighborhood that way. Everyone was out eating at restaurants on the patios, ogling curiously at the oily, sweating, perturbed kids in sweatpants.

All's well that ends well- after forking over 115 bucks to a chain-smoking lady guarding the lot, I got my car back. Suddenly the $45 massage had become a $160 afternoon. Whoops! Chiste Mal.

Till the next episode,

Peace and love!

What in the Ham Sandwich

So, even though it says in the Bible you're not supposed to talk about fasting when you're fasting, or complain when you give up stuff and make a big scene of it, I'm breaking that rule for the sake of this post because 1) I think it's got some entertainment value, and 2) I'm looking for some suggestions (the more hilarious, the better.)

Most Lenten seasons past, I've given up all sweets and any form of chocolate, but this Lent I'm adding something else: I've given up cursing. 40 days and 40 nights with no f-bombs, sh-words, d-dash dash dash... basically, anything that I would yell at my students for is off limits for me.

The thing about cursing is that I can turn it off. I do at school every day- but when I get home, I'm a regular foul-mouthed sailor! I'm not particularly proud of it. I like to think of myself as a classy gal. If anything, the last five days have made me realize how frequently I want to call someone something that starts with "mother", or how regularly I yell an expletive over a minor incident (forgetting my cell phone upstairs, dropping a can of peanut butter, etc).

The real challenge here though, is how to replace those words with something that fits in the context without sounding TOTALLY ridiculous. I've been stumbling all over my sentences trying to make it work! The best thing I've come up with so far is saying "wow," to replace "damn." Hot guy walks by: wooooowww. Kid scores a 3% on a test? Wooooow. Stub my toe? Wooowwww!!!

But otherwise, I'm really laboring. "shoot" is working out ok...most of the time. Today I said "shoot the ...shoot" and it failed. Meredith has suggested replacing "b*tch" with "super nice person" every time I'm tempted to use it. The F word has become..."fooie" or "fangul" (which is actually just Italian for F yourself in the A. Thanks for putting that one in my vernacular, mom.)

So my question to you, my readership, is to help me! What are your favorite curse/cuss/swear word replacements? Any family favorites or childhood censorships? I look forward to your suggestions!

Till next week... Peace and Love.

Rainy Days

My roommate Betsy crashed through our front door Sunday afternoon, coming back from a run. "It is straight up Noah's Ark out there!" She yelled from the foyer. She was so soaked she looked like a cartoon character- hair limp and dripping, sweatshirt hanging heavily off her shoulders, feet in pools of water gathering on the floor. She looked totally defeated, and it was hilarious!

Sunday was a rainy, dark day in DC but reminded me why I love living in this city. What is there to do on a Sunday afternoon in the pouring rain anywhere else? Here, the answer is easy. Rainy days are museum days! So that's exactly what I did. And of course, I headed straight for the Dinos at the Natural History museum, my favorite.

The Smithsonian Museum of Natural History NEVER, and I mean NEVER, gets old to a science nerd like me. Every time I go back, there's something new I haven't seen yet. That's probably because I'm normally too distracted by the dinosaur bones to make it anywhere past the first floor. Yesterday, however, I felt like exploring and went upstairs. I found perhaps the most underrated exhibit there- the insect zoo!

The insect zoo was DISGUSTING. It was full of the most enormous, gross bugs I'd ever seen. They looked like the bugs Timon and Pumba eat in the Lion King- or the bugs that popped out of the Oogie-Boogie Man in Nightmare Before Christmas. Brightly colored centepedes as long as a ruler creeped around their cages, and spiders bigger than your palm stared at you. The coolest/grossest of all, however, were the variations on stick bugs and leaf bugs. They were ENORMOUS, so big you could see them breathing! Their camouflage was incredible, and I was humbled by the beauty of their evolution. (I use the term beauty loosely, they were still gross.)

The museum had to kick us out. Personally I think 5:30 is way too early to close! I feel like I'm always getting kicked out of the Smithsonian, but it just means I'll have to go back soon- rain or not.

Peace and Love.