Roommate Sarah and I walked out our front door this morning, all dressed up for church, and ran into our fantastic neighbor Thomas (he's stylish, good-looking, chivalrous, polite and gay), who was hanging out in the sunshine on the front steps. Conversation went like this:
Thomas: Well you ladies look lovely.
Sara and Sarah: Well thank you.
Thomas: Headed to brunch?
Sarah: No, church actually.
Thomas: Ah, well that's a different kind of nourishment.
Sara: Sure is. (grinning)
Thomas: Have a good day.
Sara and Sarah: You too. (wave)
Thomas is great, love him; and it's SO Manhattan to assume that we were brunching. Why else would someone dress up on a Sunday afternoon?
Church was fantastic by the way. My ward is wonderful. More on that to come...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Saturday on the Upper West Side
Happy Saturday Blogosphere.
Fall is creeping into the air in New York, and today was lovely.
I slept in, did laundry, and wrote in my journal over lunch at the cafe on the corner. I get a little bit giddy inside when I go through this little routine. Maybe because it's what I always imagined life in New York to be like, and its one of those rare times in life when something turns out exactly the way you expected. It has become my favorite way to spend a Saturday.
The cafe on the corner is called Zanny's. They have a steady stream of students and locals all day, stopping in for their coffee, muffins, omlettes, wraps and salads. The two walls that face the two streets have huge windows and a window seat that makes a big L-shape in the corner. There are maybe six tables in the whole place, and most of them wobble. The wall by the door is covered in a collection of photography, taken by the owner, I believe. The pictures are mostly of exotic landscapes, and each is labeled with its location - Tanzania, South Africa, Yellowstone. The music they play is catchy, but not trendy. A lot of people sit and read the newspaper, and occasionally very large text books. The menu board above the counter is drawn up in brightly colorerd chalk, and the "L" in salad is a big carrot. Inside it smells like coffee, alfalfa sprouts and mango chutney - don't ask me why.
I always go in around noon, get a wrap and sit in the window and scribble a little bit about my week. Mostly I get distracted from my writing by all of the people watching.
Afte the laundry was folded I cleaned the bathroom, and now my hands feel all rough from the bleach. Now I'm going on a walk through Riverside Park and then I'm going indulge and watch a cheesy movie. Happy Saturday indeed.
Fall is creeping into the air in New York, and today was lovely.
I slept in, did laundry, and wrote in my journal over lunch at the cafe on the corner. I get a little bit giddy inside when I go through this little routine. Maybe because it's what I always imagined life in New York to be like, and its one of those rare times in life when something turns out exactly the way you expected. It has become my favorite way to spend a Saturday.
The cafe on the corner is called Zanny's. They have a steady stream of students and locals all day, stopping in for their coffee, muffins, omlettes, wraps and salads. The two walls that face the two streets have huge windows and a window seat that makes a big L-shape in the corner. There are maybe six tables in the whole place, and most of them wobble. The wall by the door is covered in a collection of photography, taken by the owner, I believe. The pictures are mostly of exotic landscapes, and each is labeled with its location - Tanzania, South Africa, Yellowstone. The music they play is catchy, but not trendy. A lot of people sit and read the newspaper, and occasionally very large text books. The menu board above the counter is drawn up in brightly colorerd chalk, and the "L" in salad is a big carrot. Inside it smells like coffee, alfalfa sprouts and mango chutney - don't ask me why.
I always go in around noon, get a wrap and sit in the window and scribble a little bit about my week. Mostly I get distracted from my writing by all of the people watching.
Afte the laundry was folded I cleaned the bathroom, and now my hands feel all rough from the bleach. Now I'm going on a walk through Riverside Park and then I'm going indulge and watch a cheesy movie. Happy Saturday indeed.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Meeting up with Mitt
I saw Mitt Romney.
Last Sunday, as I was walking into the Upper East Side church building, he was walking out. I mean, I almost ran into him. Then I looked up and saw his wife and his entire family - sons, daughters-in-law, grandkids.
This is New York, and un-famous people mingle with famous people left and right. Everyone I know has seen Sarah Jessica Parker at least once. In parks and in restaurants, walking down the street - they're everywhere.
Celebrities don't really impress me much - if I saw SJP on the street, I'd probably think, "Cool," and keep walking.
But not Mitt. My jaw hit the pavement, I did a triple take and remained speechless for 15 mins. It was very dorky of me, but at least I didn't run up and paw him, asking for an autograph... and I don't need a picture, because I already have one.
See, I got really into Govenor Romney's presidential campaign. I was very sad for a week when he dropped out of the race. I loved his politics, I thought he was highly qualified, in addition to being brilliant, and I REALLY wanted him to be President.
So you can understand why I was so excited to see him. Mitt and me, going to church.
Last Sunday, as I was walking into the Upper East Side church building, he was walking out. I mean, I almost ran into him. Then I looked up and saw his wife and his entire family - sons, daughters-in-law, grandkids.
This is New York, and un-famous people mingle with famous people left and right. Everyone I know has seen Sarah Jessica Parker at least once. In parks and in restaurants, walking down the street - they're everywhere.
Celebrities don't really impress me much - if I saw SJP on the street, I'd probably think, "Cool," and keep walking.
But not Mitt. My jaw hit the pavement, I did a triple take and remained speechless for 15 mins. It was very dorky of me, but at least I didn't run up and paw him, asking for an autograph... and I don't need a picture, because I already have one.
See, I got really into Govenor Romney's presidential campaign. I was very sad for a week when he dropped out of the race. I loved his politics, I thought he was highly qualified, in addition to being brilliant, and I REALLY wanted him to be President.
So you can understand why I was so excited to see him. Mitt and me, going to church.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Taking in a Tennis Game
The US Open, one of the great grand-slam tennis tournaments, and it takes place in a little borough called Brooklyn. During the US Open, New York becomes very suddenly very enthusiastic about tennis.
Now, I love tennis. My dad was a teenage tennis star, I played when I was a kid, and I grew up watching Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi.
So it made my day today, when I walked across the street to Bryant Park on my lunch hour to eat my little salad and they were broadcasting the US Open. They had two sets of bleachers set up and a really big screen. They had even covered the middle of the square in astro turf (which didn't make a lot of sense, because they play on clay in the US Open and they play on grass at Wimbledon, but whatever).
So over my chicken, walnut, cranberry and bleu cheese salad, I took in a mixed doubles game and marveled anew at how TOTALLY cool it is to live in New York.
Now, I love tennis. My dad was a teenage tennis star, I played when I was a kid, and I grew up watching Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi.
So it made my day today, when I walked across the street to Bryant Park on my lunch hour to eat my little salad and they were broadcasting the US Open. They had two sets of bleachers set up and a really big screen. They had even covered the middle of the square in astro turf (which didn't make a lot of sense, because they play on clay in the US Open and they play on grass at Wimbledon, but whatever).
So over my chicken, walnut, cranberry and bleu cheese salad, I took in a mixed doubles game and marveled anew at how TOTALLY cool it is to live in New York.
Feel the Burn
Part of my little, or not so little, excursion home was a quick trip up to Lake Mead to try out the new boat. During this adventure I was made to acknowledge three profound truths:
1) The new boat is AWESOME. It completely rocks.
2) If you have not been in the desert sun for three months and then choose to spend a day soaking it in, you will BURN.
3) Wake boarding is fantastic fun, which I had almost forgotten, since it had been so long since I've done it. However, when you have not been wake boarding in almost three years and then you suddenly go again, your wake boarding muscles will receive a very rude awakening. Burn baby burn.
Oh, and one last thing: Kurt Cobain is a rock genius, because he invented grunge rock and changed the sound of music forever. And although Stevie Ray Vaughn is a great blues guitarist he is neither the most profound, the first, nor the last, to sing about angst. when you really thing about it, they've been singing about angst since the days of Chaucer. Rock legendary status is about the sound you create, because in the end, every one's lyrics are about the same stuff - drugs, sex and rock'n'roll.
Ha.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Home Sweet California
Have I mentioned lately that I'm really close to my family? In fact, being so far away from them is the number one downside to living in New York. And yes, that tops the rats in the street on trash day, as in, I would rather double the rat population in my neighborhood that be this far from my family, but since I don't exactly have the option, I subsist on once, twice... ok thrice... weekly calls with the coolest people I know.
So needless to say, when I had the opportunity to go home and visit the fam over Labor Day weekend, I jumped all over that with out a second thought. Time change? Red eye? 4 hour flight? No problem.
And of course, the weekend was perfect. My brothers tackled me with hugs in the airport terminal, my dad and I talked about work and life in New York City (he gives really good advice by the way, in case you're ever in need of any), my sisters and I talked the way that only sisters can, and my mom and I talked about everything. To top it off, I got the meet the new family dog, Charlie, who is pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.
Can you deny it? I didn't think so.
It was a perfect weekend. I laughed until my sides hurt, I got to see Seth's new braces and balk at how TALL Sam is getting. I went to a real California beach and got a great tan. I visited the famous and beloved Gourmet Pizza Shoppe for my fix of Malibu Magic pizza. And best of all I got to be home with the people that make up the best part of my world.
I love being a Haws.
So needless to say, when I had the opportunity to go home and visit the fam over Labor Day weekend, I jumped all over that with out a second thought. Time change? Red eye? 4 hour flight? No problem.
And of course, the weekend was perfect. My brothers tackled me with hugs in the airport terminal, my dad and I talked about work and life in New York City (he gives really good advice by the way, in case you're ever in need of any), my sisters and I talked the way that only sisters can, and my mom and I talked about everything. To top it off, I got the meet the new family dog, Charlie, who is pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.
Can you deny it? I didn't think so.
It was a perfect weekend. I laughed until my sides hurt, I got to see Seth's new braces and balk at how TALL Sam is getting. I went to a real California beach and got a great tan. I visited the famous and beloved Gourmet Pizza Shoppe for my fix of Malibu Magic pizza. And best of all I got to be home with the people that make up the best part of my world.
I love being a Haws.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Backwards Beach
My friend Maurice teaches high school. And so after nearly two months of vacation, he is being violently thrown back into the working world . Therefore, to celebrate the official end of summer (because when you go back to school, there is a very finite conclusion to the season) we went to the beach.
Let me rephrase that... We went to the city of Long Beach on Long Island.
See, I grew up in California. My earliest years were spent in Orange County with the smell of the ocean in the air and a persistent layer of sand in the back of our car and inside my shoes. I am the daughter of a bona fide Santa Barbara surfer. I know which west coast beaches have the best sand, the best waves, and the best sunsets. In my mind, beaches have a lot of associated connotations... and this was not a beach the likes of which I am used to.
It was lovely, don't get me wrong. There were long grasses, soft white sand, the ocean smell was still in the air... but something wasn't quite right. There was NO surf culture. No tanned, bleach blond grommits skate boarding down the street with a wetsuit pulled half on and a surf board under their arm. No surf shops lining the streets. No black ball flags on the lifeguard towers. No crowds of sun-bleached and wind-blown beach rats hanging out of convertibles and soft-top jeeps. It was weird. I've never been to a beach before without surf culture, and it was very strange.
Long Beach, apparently, is where city investment bankers go to escape the grind on a long weekend, not where the off-spring of the extremely wealthy go to spend their days chasing monster sets.
And to top off the strange feeling of miss-equilibrium, the sun set on the wrong side of the ocean! It felt kind of like the first time you see Star Wars and Luke walks out into the sunset on Tatooine with the two suns and you go... whoa, that's not right. (Yes, that was a giant wave of my geek flag.)
So all I'm really saying is that so far, BEACH is the one that California does BEST.
Let me rephrase that... We went to the city of Long Beach on Long Island.
See, I grew up in California. My earliest years were spent in Orange County with the smell of the ocean in the air and a persistent layer of sand in the back of our car and inside my shoes. I am the daughter of a bona fide Santa Barbara surfer. I know which west coast beaches have the best sand, the best waves, and the best sunsets. In my mind, beaches have a lot of associated connotations... and this was not a beach the likes of which I am used to.
It was lovely, don't get me wrong. There were long grasses, soft white sand, the ocean smell was still in the air... but something wasn't quite right. There was NO surf culture. No tanned, bleach blond grommits skate boarding down the street with a wetsuit pulled half on and a surf board under their arm. No surf shops lining the streets. No black ball flags on the lifeguard towers. No crowds of sun-bleached and wind-blown beach rats hanging out of convertibles and soft-top jeeps. It was weird. I've never been to a beach before without surf culture, and it was very strange.
Long Beach, apparently, is where city investment bankers go to escape the grind on a long weekend, not where the off-spring of the extremely wealthy go to spend their days chasing monster sets.
And to top off the strange feeling of miss-equilibrium, the sun set on the wrong side of the ocean! It felt kind of like the first time you see Star Wars and Luke walks out into the sunset on Tatooine with the two suns and you go... whoa, that's not right. (Yes, that was a giant wave of my geek flag.)
So all I'm really saying is that so far, BEACH is the one that California does BEST.
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