My little buttercup

Last night I went to my first company party...

Let's just say that the $20 bucks I brought for dinner and drinks was not really cutting it. People made the most amazing things. Tons of cupcakes, cookies* (each individually frosted), dips (IN BREAD BOWLS), cookies, cookies, apps, pies, etc. I took a couple of cupcakes home for Roy and one for Heather (we're having lunch tomorrow), cause nothing says love like butter cream frosting.

My favorite "entry" was this star cake above.

*am still recovering from the sugar high.

Table for two

Roy surprised me last night with a fabulous dinner.

I ended up waiting for him at the wrong bar and when I finally found him I was a little tipsy and kinda agro.

He giggled and presented me with a present, took my hand and walked me to the correct location.

He had put a plan into action where we would have drinks and then go to dinner.

It was an amazing place. The French Culinary Institutes's restaurant, 'L'ecole.'

The dinner was great, of course.

But for me, the queen of all sappy shmuckettes, was that it was like a first date. Ok, maybe a 4th or 5th, but we were giggling, laughing and sharing our entrees.

This is a good man. This is a thoughtful, patient man. He took a grumptastic girl and made her smile. Most of all, he made me remember how lucky I am.


...he's pretty lucky too. ;)

A real 30 minute meal

Take that Rachel Ray, you COW!

Actually, it was a 29 minute meal....HA!

Roy made me dinner last night, late night. I've been at the office late this week and it was so nice to come home to such a wonderful man and his wonderful chicken.

PS it was delicious

The view from the top

...of my office last night.

pretty nice, eh? I used to just look at concrete and now I get to look at dirty Jerz.

Friggin suhweet...

Graduation

I started my new job on Monday. It's amazing.
Nothing against any job I've held in the past, but this place is heaven. It's like I've graduated from High School and got into an Ivy League School...no, actually it's like going to Oxford.

When I walk the halls I feel that same excited feeling I had when I lived on High Street so many years ago.

Everyone there is the best of the best at what they do, there are people who specialize in the most amazing things, everyone is hard-working and RIDICULOUSLY creative.

I'm giddy.

I even got to order new office supplies today...could it get any better?!

McManus the sequel

My lovely friend, Brady and I went to grab a drink last night.

We went to our favorite place, which isn't so much a favorite as a TRAP FOR ROTTEN MEN. Let me clarify:

Not so much rotten, as it seems that every time we go there--only when we go there together--some escapee from a circus freak show comes up and talks to us, shouts at us, buys us drinks and then gives us the stink eye, makes weird comments, close-talks, etc.

I love the bar, I don't want to confuse you. It's beautiful, old and has good food and beer. But it seems we have the worst luck. Just when we're sitting peacefully, this guy Brad came over and pulled up a chair. Despite my rudeness, he stayed. Mostly, I think for Brady, who is lovely and polite. I would have preferred to dip this guy's head into a writhing bucket of hungry Piranha.

Anyway, read her blog to understand the scope of the evening. It was lovely to see her, but MAN, this place is testing my patience.

Gobble Gobble

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. Nothing says happy Sarah like a federal holiday dedicated to eating, eating, fighting with your family and then some more eating thrown in for good measure.

This year I felt especially blessed to have Heather join us and of course, Roy. Roy has since become a convert of Turkey, so he mentioned. Before Thursday he was pacing, hemming and hawing about how dry and bland turkey is...."just you wait Henry Higgins" I explained to him, there's no bland anything at my parents' house.

It was our first Thanksgiving together, (since last year we went to Amsterdam in a flurry of last minute planning) I was thrilled to share it with him, as well as sweet and adorable Heather.

There were a bunch of people at my parents' house and I made introductions, ate some turkey, tons of stuffing and drank my fair share of wine. My 93 year old grandmother opted for Heineken.

That night I drove the troops to the train and prepared to drive up to Rhode Island to see my cousins. Roy had to work on Friday--BLAST!--and Heather's a little too young and impressionable to meet all my family in one sitting. Besides, I LOVE me some RI and was so excited to be heading up.

My drive was fast early Friday morning, it's usually something I really detest. It's about 158 miles, which isn't so bad. BUT for about 60% of it, there is only a 2 lane road which is basically a crap shoot with regards to traffic.

My time with my cousins was amazing--albeit short--and I took tons of pictures (which I am sure annoyed the living POOP out of them.

Basically, my Thanksgiving was amazing. Really, it was. There were some fights, lots of drinking, some driving, and a ton of food.

A TON of food.

*am still eating it, by the by, and couldn't be HAPPIER. Me likey Thanksgiving, me likey MUCHO.

PS
Roy now LOVES turkey, good thing too because I often happen to be one.

La Vie en Rize

(taken with Maureen's iFRIGGINPhone)

Yes, yes, I am well aware that that is NOT the right spelling.

It's a PUN PEOPLE.

Ok, starting off on wrong foot....I digress.

So Monday night, last night, I had the wonderful good fortune to share a ladies' night with my dear friend Maureen (aka B*tch just got a iPhone--I Kidddddd, I kiddddddd)

Anyway, we went for pedicures and headed to our usual spot for drinks and apps. Life is pretty sweet and we are both really lucky to have had this night to chat. I teased her about some monitor she had to wear for 24 hours that DIED on her. She teased me for making the pedicure people crazy last time we went as I was OBSESSED with having a skull and cross bones painted on my big toes.

We ate toasted cheeses and soaked crusty bread in tomato sauce, devoured olives and some pasta dish I would probably sell an egg for...and because we're women we also found things to complain about, even in our blessed lives we were able to squeeze in a few things that make us miserable.

It was, as always a pleasure to share time with Moe. A pleasure that was only compounded by the fact that we drank more than a couple of these drinks..."La vie en Rize" no idea what was in them besides some champagne, but a delicate rose petal floated on top and that was enough to make it perfect for girls' night.

"..then a couple 'a guys, they were up to no good...started making trouble in my neighborhood."

(image from wikipedia)

Ok, so please know I am alright ahead of time.

Last weekend, on Saturday, I had just come from the movies. I had seen a 5:30 show of Dan in Real Life and it was great.
I went into a store and then was standing at 23rd street and 8th Avenue about to cross to take the A,C to Brooklyn.

I sensed a guy walk up behind me and one to my left and right. The guy to my left asked some random guy if I was "his woman." When the chivalrous bloke made it clear that I was indeed all alone, this man stood in my way in the crosswalk.

"Hey, how you doing?" he barked.

I said nothing, stood silently looking past his shoulder.

"I said HEY. Can't you HEAR ME?" he insisted.

I still said nothing, fully aware that there were 2 other large men surrounding me and all they had to do was push me or poke me and I would have been toast. Who knew what was going through their mind, they could have been drunk or high, or carrying a weapon. Lord knows why some girl who looked like she was sponsored by Patagonia was enticing, but that night, on that busy street it was me.

"Yo! I like what I see...there something wrong with that? You got a PROBLEM?!"

He steps forward so close to me that I could see his PORES.

I didn't give it another moment or so to think, so I turned right and walked 50 feet into the GAP on 8th. I knew nothing could happen in a huge public space, I was not that much of a target that they would follow me in there.

And they didn't. But as I turned, they laughed at me. Like I was some coward.

I got inside and turned to see that the three of them were waiting for me.

Panic.

Serious F*cking Panic.
(for the official record, it did cross my mind to call Roy, but I didn't)

So I looked for the nearest employee, and asked her to walk me to the subway because I realized that in my PANIC I didn't really see what the guy really looked like.

Although they were dispersed they could have been anyone.

She got the manager, who could have easily been Jack's body double from Will & Grace, and he walked me down to the turnstile and safely into the station.

For the first time I sat with other people while I waited for the train. I was a scared that I've never felt, like I was walking around naked and every man I saw that night seemed eerily threatening.

When I got to Brooklyn, I sat on the stoop and Roy called my cell worried that I was late for our date night. As I began to tell him what had happened, I could hear him running to the stoop to swoop down and give me the softest, strongest hug.

It was rough, but I am ok. Better, definitely better.

...despite being b*tch slapped by this week already...

(from amazon.com)

a teeny post re: Mr. Anthony Bourdain
(thanks, AJO)
(click here)

new and improved stereotypes...(found 'em, didn't write 'em)

click here

a room of one's own

(my lovely friend Maureen)

Roy and I went to see my friend Maureen & Nathaniel this weekend up in CT. “UP” being the operative word.

Their house is 2 hours by train from NYC and although I was a little bit slow that morning and the trip to the Grand Central was a vicious, skull-ripping and unrelenting example of the depths of hell—I loved being up there.

Because we were late to getting home on Friday night and because the WATER.WAS. SHUT. OFF. It took a while to get up and out of the apartment, we sprinted up and down stairs, maneuvered our ways through subway booths and slow pedestrians like first draft NFL rookies. I was thinking, we might be pretty good at “The Amazing Race”. Interesting...Israeli and Greenwich girl win it all on CBS game show--I can see it now....ahhhhhhh.

Anyway, I digress.

So we made it onto the train and arrived in one piece, Nathaniel graciously picked us up and we were off. I have to admit it, I missed the country. I used to drive on these same roads ALL.THE.TIME. when my brother went to school in upstate CT, and breathing in the aromatic Fall air, all discomfort and gruesome fatigue dissolved.

The party was impeccably planned and Maureen’s friends were all (as expected) lovely. Many cupcakes and caramel apples were consumed (couldn’t be helped) and we recharged by the bonfire.

What a luxury it is to have a place of one’s own, where you can shed the impurities of the city and sit in absolute silence around a fire (save the faint sounds of the new James Blunt album), see stars that seem well within reach and begin to feel close to human again.

From the corner of my eye I could see Moe decompressing as well and to me, at that moment everything was brilliant and amazing.

Take a train ride upstate, get lost, find yourself.

I highly recommend it.

(pics from an older trip to CT, these are from Sharon CT which is not too far from where we were.)

Rafi Po (Rafi's here)

(image from CDuniverse)

Rafi:
(Rah-Fee)
The word Rafi is of Arabic origin, and its meaning is "holding high" or "servant of the exalted one".
The Hebrew root of the name "Rafi" is "Rafael" which means "healed by God." The Hebrew root "rofe" means "heal," and "El" is a name for God.

Famous Rafi's include:
Abu al-Rafi ibn Abu al-Huqayq, a chieftain of Jewish tribes
Rafi Amit, a poker player from Israel
Rafael ('Rafi') Eitan, an Israeli leader
Rafi Izbicki, an Israel Defense Forces spokesperson
Rafi Yoeli, Israeli inventor
Rafi (political party), a political party in Israel during the 1960s

BUT.

Most importantly, "Raffi" was the singer (he's still a singer) that sang one of my favorite songs when I was little, "Baby Beluga." Below is a scene from one of my favorite childhood shows (Full House), explaining that my affection for Raffi was pretty much a cultural phenomenon:



I've yet to see if Roy's friend Rafi can do this dance, or sing this song...we're going to Shawna's birthday party tonight, so perhaps he'll bust out the moves.

(I'll let you know)

Either way, I am so excited that he's come to visit, he's one of the first friends of Roy that I met (I think it was on our 4th date) and as always, it's wonderful to see him.

security

(this image has NOTHING to do with my entry, but shit...the SOX. WON. THE. SERIES!!!)

I love my bank, let me just get that out of the way.

I have been with Bank of America since 1998, when they were Bank Boston. Then they became Fleet, and now they're BOA.

This morning I got an email saying that there was suspicious activity on my account and in order to reactivate my card I would need to call them. I was wary at first, and then examined the email, its path, etc and called. It was Bank Of America, I even goggled the phone number to double check.

Anyway there is apparently some scam going on where companies/hackers this one was using (Comcast as a cover), test your account number by charging you a dollar. Nothing anyone would notice.

But my bank did.

Now they've canceled my card and dealt with the reimbursement. pretty sweet.

I just wanted to post this because I was NEVER one of those people who signed up for "extra care" or "security" with any of my cards, but let me tell you it's hella worth it.

I called BOA to confirm that it was them calling on the other line, just in case and alls well. Just peachy.

I am a very satisfied customer.

he FOUND her

proof that you really can get anything in NYC

how can you not love this?

(www.nygirlofmydreams.com)

inspired

(nytimes.com)

I saw this drawing in Maira Kalman's blog on NYTIMES.com. She's one of my favorite illustrators/artists and it really struck a cord. This comes from a poster that the British government used during WW2 to boost moral and inspire calm.

Life is busy and relentless and it gives me pause, kind of makes me realize I've got it pretty good.

Also tempts me to buy one of these posters for the apartment. (although I like Maira's better)

sock it to me

(image from flickr)

You'd agree it's getting mildly colder, yes?

Your legs or toes are eventually going to get chilly, yes?

GO.TO.THE.SOCKMAN.

He's on St. Marks in NYC, and is an overabundance of tights, socks, thigh highs, etc. Everything you need, seriously, or ever might need*...is there.

*and yes, Jo-Di they also have arm warmers.

by hook or by cook

(click here for source)

There are a select few actors/celebs that I happen to find very interesting. Anthony Bourdain is one of them.

He has been in the cooking field for over 20 years, but shot to fame with his book Kitchen Confidential which lifted the rock (so to speak) on the culinary industry and exposed hidden infestations.

I've read most of his books and find them entertaining and smart. Most recently he's been blogging (click here) and my affection for him has grown exponentially.

I scavenge for tidbits he's written and am rarely disappointed when I read what he's got to say.

He is like the Lou Reed of cooking. Cool, confident, funny and not afraid to tell you exactly what's on his mind.

(he's also not too bad on the eyes)

Here is a clip of a video Time magazine did with AB.
You may not like it as much as I did, but hey...you know what?! THIS. IS. MY. BLOG.

old as dirt

Tonight is Halloween, and people everywhere are cleverly dressed and trick-or-treating their way across the country.

I feel like I am watching it all on TV. This year, probably one of the first, I am really noticing that I am no longer as close to the "treaters" ages as I am slowing sliding towards the parents' ages.

I went to 4 different drugstores in the city to find the coolest "kid" candy (unlike my mother--love you--who geniusly would buy mini Snickers and Good 'n Plenties, because that's what she likes, dammit!)

I grabbed my stash and set myself up for the evening. Bought Roy a truly heinous mask, at his request, and was thinking pretty highly of myself.

Once again I got ahead of myself.

I am officially an old fart who gets ahead of herself. Get me one more cat or 12, and I'll be that crazy lady who wears a giant Santa sweater everyday and has moles with giant hairs sticking out of them.

This beautiful image just recently occurred to me as I passed out some treats one of the mothers tried to persuade her zombie daughters to "grab the Junior Mints for mommy."

Since when did Junior Mints, the candy of savvy taste buds everywhere become the stuff of parental wanderlust?

I mean, really? Junior Mints? Maybe they've had their heyday, they were in Seinfeld and my Father loves them....hmmm




Maybe this isn't so improbable.