snuggle-kitty v2.0

the time's they are a changin'.

he who once scratched me for fun and almost bit me now has fallen madly in love with me, and i secretly LOVE it.

jack’s gotten into some major snuggling. he's become like a junkie.

now he likes to curl up on my lap at any given opportunity, or as I like to call it—when I am standing (or lying) still. there is no taking no for an answer, he pushes whatever I am doing aside.

he WANTS to snuggle with me when I’m brushing my teeth, peeing, showering, cooking (he sits at my feet rolls over into his newest yoga pose) or sleeping.

he rubs up against me to the point of almost tipping me over.

he's turning into a little puppy--my work here is done.

kids incorporated

So I was in a museum the other day and I was surrounded by kids. Stuffing their faces with hamburgers and chicken nuggets, fries and soda (this was one kid, by the way) and as I glanced around the cafeteria I wondered for a few minutes as mothers cut nuggets and purelled tables, chairs and children—do I HAVE TO join this club? I mean, these people, these parents were all young once, independent and happy. Now they’ve traded freedom for french-fries and are seemingly content to wiping faces and passing out napkins where they once sat like me, chilin’ drinking my diet coke surfing the web. What happens to people like me, why must we give up our identities to morph into this “parent” creature?
Let it be said at once that I’ve never been one of those chicks who goes loopy over baby poop or mental at miniature dresses and socks. I’m just not like that. And I don’t mean to insult people who’s whole focus is procreation, that’s cool.
It’s just not me.
I’m just wondering why we create this whole other life for ourselves before we decide to have children only to squash it and become a constantly overwhelmed ball of nerves who resembles nothing of what we once were?
As you know I recently went to visit my cousin ali and what she goes through literally brought me to tears one day out of sheer exhaustion. I have an massive amount of respect for her and ABSOLUTELY no idea how people do it, and maybe that’s where this is coming from.
but HOLY SHIT! None of the people in this cafeteria look happy (forget about well-rested); they all are consumed with feeding, cleaning and getting home as soon as possible.
Is this an existence?
I’m just asking.
I am not at the baby stage in my life and have never really looked at it longingly, rather inevitably prepared to accept the fact that I will one day be ready and totally distracted from my life and obsessed with becoming pregnant.
Not seeing that happening anytime soon—sorry dad!
It’s like I’m riding this high-speed train, and it’s making all these exciting and interesting stops and then BAM! One day I decide I need to have kids and have to get off the train FOREVER. I mean, you don’t get to get back on the train again till you’re 106 and your kids are grown up and not living in your house or borrowing your car…it’s never the same again.
It’s just, as a simple observer, weird to me to watch these adults negotiating with their toddlers and tweens about soda versus juice, while they could have been the president of a bank or a geometry teacher in a former life, they now squat down and barter with their kids; “eat all your nuggets and we can watch Dora in the car on the ride home,” I heard one say. They have dissolved into this person the kids have to deal with between tv shows.
Maybe it’s American culture to overfeed and over-negotiate with your children; maybe what I need is perspective.
I’m sure there’s a place somewhere where it’s simply a stress-free delight to have and raise children…
Right?

RIGHT?!

Parting is such sweet sorrow…and all that jazz

Roy left for his trip.
Let me just get it out of the way and tell you that I couldn’t be happier for him, really.
It’s not everyone who gets a chance to press the “do not disturb” button on their busy lives, only to come back to it rested and refocused later.
In order to not be weepy and weird when he left I decided in my infinite wisdom to go on vacation when he was getting ready to go. This way I wouldn’t have to see him leave, I could say good-bye and be okay on my own while he was at home leaving.
A lot of people have told me that what I’m doing is really impressive and that they’re not sure if they could spend a good part of the summer away from their loved one, blah, blah, blah. I don’t mean to discount their feelings but when they seem impressed I silently smile and nod, knowing that they can’t do it because they’re not us. Reasonably speaking it is difficult to see someone go, or to be alone in an apartment that seemed crowded not a week earlier, but its part of being a friend, and a partner.
Ok, enough dr. phil. Let it be said at once that while roy is away, I am not cowering in the corner of the apartment scratching the days into the wall shawshank redemption-style. I am having what I like to affectionately call, “the summer of sarah” and whatever that entails, it entails.
This summer is about:

• tan lines
• slumber parties
• fruity drinks by the pool
• late night dinners with Maureen at grimaldi’s
• ice cream and entourage
• cooking dinner for friends
• seeing chick flicks (although roy is really good at going)
• pop tarts
• my herb garden
• book club
• running
• volunteering
• visiting friends

…and fun.

This summer will NOT be about:

• Leaving NPR on for Jack (he prefers Z100 anyway)
• Eating quinoa
• Going to the film forum (I kiddddd, ok I might go…I mean, if it’s hailing and I need to take shelter and for some odd reason I am near there, I will definitely go inside.)
• Being sad and pathetic
• Eating at siggy’s
• Going to bed at 10pm
• Letting jack sleep on my stomach…it’s not funny and his freakish ability to balance ANYWHERE is irritating.
• Having to shave my legs!

……PS am joking, relax.

little rhodie...

so i just got back from rhode island.
some may think of it as "that state between massachusetts and connecticut", the place where people talk funny, or the setting for Family Guy--but there's so much MORE! a large portion of my family resides there and i happen to love it. the combination of sea, great food and funny accents gets me every time--(see israel, england as some of other faves).

i went for a week of relaxation before fashion week starts and completely consumes me like an olsen twin on free starbucks day. i went for the sun, sand, family, babies and LOBSTAH!

...did i mention there was LOBSTAH?!

but, yes, that's right. for those of you who know me, i did say BABIES...this may be shocking but yes 'tis true.
my cousin ali just had (ok, 6 months ago) the third installment of her family and i love those kids. they're adorable little geniuses who also happen to be crazy about me.

i spent a week in her shoes, literally...she bought me a pair. and we chatted, gossiped and had fun. i saw my uncle and aunt and my cousins, played tennis, went to the *GASP* gym, and was able to relax.

BUT, i did learn a few things:

• smart, cute kids sometimes have not cute or funny things to say--don't let it upset you!
• lobsters taste better after a boat ride
• if you don't drink alcohol two nights in a row, people will ask why...ALOT
• some babies just never cry
• hearing a 4 year old sing karen carpenter might be the most adorable thing i've ever heard
• it's ok to purell your hands 1,000 times a day
• hydrangeas are more beautiful when you steal them from your aunt's yard
  
• leaping across a clay tennis court and wiping out at a fancy country club is only cool if you're martina hingis
• sometimes kids pee when you make them laugh too hard
• sometimes you just gotta pee back

basically, i saw ali in a whole new light. it was like trying to keep up with a tri-athlete. no chance. she's got it down and it kicked my ass.

ali=3 sarah=0 (and that's ok by me)

this is funnier 'cause i sent it to brady FIRST

(click here)

it's just so funny...

got salt?

my friend brady and i went to one of our favorite hangouts in chelsea a few weeks ago and it dawned on me today that i should share this picture with everyone.

i am not sure it's visible, but the woman at the bar is wearing a t-shirt that says "got salt?"

as in "yo! you got any salt? i have to consume as much tequila as possible...but don't worry, i brought the limes with me."

she came into the bar with about 10 ladies who looked about 60ish. they were having a ladies' night out of sorts and at first i scoffed at the shirt--i mean, come on.

but the more i looked at it the more i laughed. it might not be so entertaining to you and your sophisticated sense of humor, but i was dying! this bar is one of the best for reasons just like this one. ok, and this one. and even this one. it's like central casting for crazy movie characters in a soon-to-be-cast Ed Burns flick.

we have :

• the woman in the corner who drinks wine and sings to herself
  
• the fratty i-banker dorks playing "Golden Tee"
• the firemen on a break
• the random celebs
• kinda cute aisain tourist couple making out
  
• the random SNL castmembers
• old men with weird pirate mustaches (i SWEAR, my camera just died but he was totally sitting next to the guy in the picture)
• the 700 year-old bartender who makes you pay for everything immediately
• the "food" waitress who wears a dorothy costume from the "Wizard of Oz" inexplicably
• the 2 coolest chicks you'll ever meet.

so yeah, basically it's 'da bomb. and yes, i am fully aware i just said "'da bomb" but it is. and i ain't telling yous where it is cause i dont need some super fashionable people coming over and ordering cosmos, cabernets or the like, complaining about how many carbs there are in air and then in turn they're jacking up the prices of my 2$ drafts. you have the rest of manhattan for that. they already offer light beer, and that's enough in my book.

girl interrupted

had me a breakdown of sorts recently upon moving to brooklyn and roy's abode.

it was unexpected, unnerving, and debilitating. i sat on the bed staring out the window unable to chat, be funny or even sleep. i felt like cameron in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (but not as skinny or male.)
the idea that i no longer had my own place to go to was terrifying and i didn't know how to deal. roy was funny and sweet, helpful and kind, but it didn't work.

he suggested i go see a movie, or take a walk.
no thanks.

he offered dinner out, or a game of backgammon.
uh-uh.

a glass of wine?
nope

a pile of sushi?
usually works, but not today

but why?
i dunno*.

*because in my demented mind no matter how far i walked or how many movies i saw, i would still have to come back to his house. it was like an electric collar. i felt terrible, but it was true.

i am writing this some 3 weeks or so later because i have recovered, somewhat. i now find comfort in the things that frightened me and know i am very lucky.

i also know that the best things in life are often times the scariest.

a trip to the tree house

this is shawna and tate's tree house in woodstock where we spent the weekend.

for those of you who think of this when you think of woodstock :


you're pretty spot on.
ok, so not much different from what you expected:


BUT... it's also stunning, calming, inspiring, funny and ok ....yes, once in a while kinda stinky.



PS
speaking of....this is where we pooped (its a double-seater).

we built a tent platform while we were there, hung out with the hausmans (tate's parents), swam in their pool, ate their deviled eggs and roy built some pretty righteous campfires. we only spent two full days there, but i came back to brooklyn totally exhausted and refreshed at the same time. must have been something in the air up there.

vacuum as porn

call it what you will. scoff at the possibility that a piece of plastic with a motor and hoses could make so many millions of people deliriously happy. even laugh if you haven't tried it , but for the love of pete don't say ANYTING about roy's new vacuum--the dyson, duchess of brooklyn heights.

in all seriousness, james dyson has created a product that people become obsessed with. it's almost the iphone of the domestic world.

I AM SO NOT KIDDING.

since acquiring this little beauty, i have learned 4 times how to reassemble, reattach and respect the intricate parts and feelings of the vacuum. its like learning to reassemble an M-16 in under 10 seconds. if it came down to it and we were in dire circumstances, i could and would be prepared.

there are.

no words.

'da bridge and tunnel club

yes, it's true. i am now officially b+t (bridge and tunnel to those of your not from the tri-state area). the move is over and the unpacking and cleaning, folding, vacuuming and "do you really think we need this" is in full-effect. took a walk in the new hood yesterday with roy (took this pic) and took a deep breath of the fresh brooklyn air. it's actually quite lovely here, civilized and clean...ish.

how bad could a place where "The Cosby Show" took place be?

my point exactly.

now i can stick my tongue out at all those stuck up manhattanites across the BEAUTIFUL brooklyn bridge just outside my bedroom window--even though this is the manhattan bridge, you get the idea.

of course, we'll be buying window treatments this week.