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This is when NYC wins. Every. Single. Time.
Pizza on 8th between 55th and 56th at 2:00 a.m.
1. I want to go to Cheese Louise on Route 28 in Kingston. Thanks to Hudson Valley Good Stuff, I came across a new CHEESE store. Cheese and store and new. All in one sentence.
2. I want to order photo note pads. For everyone. Thanks to Joanna at Cup of Jo, who recently posted about Pinhole Press, I will be ordering the ultimate list pad. I just have to decide on a picture. That’s the hard part.
3. I want to eat at 36 Main. My dear friend Derek is the bartender there and after tasting their amazing wine list and signature cocktails, I need to taste the menu. Chef Adam Steinberg creates interesting and dynamic dinner choices such as Bresaola, a Italian-cured beef, soft goat cheese dressing, baby Arugula and white truffle oil and Orecchietta Fontal, a house-made pasta, creamy Bechamel, wild mushrooms and broccoli raab. I’m coming Derek, I promise.
4. I want to drink a Hemingway Sidecar at Shadows on the Hudson in Poughkeepsie. Apparently the bar is known for the large televisions on the wall and some younger than desired clientele, but the fancy cocktail menu reminds me of my favorite hole-in-the-walls in the city that I miss 0-so-much.
5. I want to shop at Dig in Saugerties. They have cute clothes in the window. Enough to peak my interest. And on more than one occasion I have asked a girl in a cute top where did she get it and the answer has been, “Dig.”
So it’s time to get it right.
29 years of tears, fears, smiles, trials, tribulations, screaming, yelling, carrying on, studying, working my ass off, laughing ’till I cried, laughing ’till I peed, running away, moving, moving to the city, moving to the country, shaking, growing, dieting, dancing, music, travel, living, surving, loving, protecting, reassuring, connecting, pacing, cooking, cleaning, being an advocate, painting nails, running errands, supporting causes, teaching, speaking, writing, being loved, really loved, hurting, fixing, building, getting dirty, dyeing hair, getting pierced, wanting a tatoo, not getting a tatoo, promising, hoping, wanting, lusting, needing, being needed, acting as a conduit, being the shoulder, being the peacemaker, being a daughter / sister / cousin/ niece / granddaughter / friend, singing like no one is watching, gyming, doing yoga, meditating, standing still as the world passed me by and jumping in with two feet just to get in on the fun.
Well that was the past. Today is the future. And today, my 29th birthday is absolutely a gift. A big massive present with a huge bow. It takes these kinds of presents to stand still, peel back the paper, close your eyes and wish that the last time you blew out the candles actually appeared in that box.
Happy 29th Birthday Thea, be good to yourself. xoxo
In the country there are those who stay in when the roads are craptastic. That would be me. And then there are those who go out anyway. That would be my roommate.
Despite the craptastic roads and snow and sleet and ice and slush, the roommate and I went to see The Dilemma. I thought it was slow, but funny. He thought it was crap. There was a few moments of humor, but overall it had a drawn out plotline. The movie spurred a number of “What would you do?” conversations, a coming to the same place on what infidelity is and what if anything makes cheating okay. To say the least it is a very diplomatic woman who holds in the “it’s always a man’s fault in cases like that.”
While conversating about infidelity, there was a trip to the local super center. We were in need of rocksalt. It had been all used up. Because it looks like this outside:
And everywhere there is this:
And even more of this:
And plenty of this:
In the search for the “best” type and deal on rocksalt, with the most desirable bag and ingredients and price, there were other household items discussed. There was some wondering in the toiletry aisles, particularly the toothpaste aisle. In our most usually and predictable fashion, we “discussed” the best toothpaste for our bathrooms. It’s a good time to point out there are two bathrooms in the house, one is upstairs and most frequented and the other is the “hair bathroom” where hair is done and you go one someone else is in the upstairs bathroom. So mid “debate,” a striking young lad approaches and says, “Hi.” It might also be a good time to point out this lad is also the same guy who there is a [huge massive crush] liking of. You avoid throwing yourself at him because your work husband tells you it’s a really bad idea. Thanks work husband.
Back in the toothpaste aisle, there is an awkward conversation of toothpaste, mouth wash and bathroom cleaner. The chosen ‘run to the movies in a snowstorm’ outfit is top of mind. As is hair under hat. And sweatpants tucked into rubber boots. The conversation is quick and awkward, but good material for a joke at a later point in time. Hopefully.
Just goes to show you where a snow ridden night can lead you, despite your greatest efforts of appearing normal in the local super center.
A very special thank you to Nicole of Creekside Adornings, she has truly captured how snow filled things are here in the Hudson Valley. And also makes the most amazing jewelry in all the land.
Snow day in NYC = slush, possible delayed opening, white blanket on your patio, no bus or subway schedule that works in your favor, if at all possible pjs until the streets are clear enough and then sushi and wine with whoever is in a three block radius of your apartment.
Snow day in the country = lots and lots of white fluffy stuff everywhere, road closures, work closures, snow tires, shovelling, skiing, snow boarding, sledding, plows, aranged snow removal, pjs in bed all day, planned crockpot cooking, some life catch up.
“As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.” ~ William Shakespeare
My life seems to be on ff (fast forward). I would like to slow it down. I am going to work on that for the month of December.
And remembering that the last 11 months were full. Really full. And fast. Too fast.
I went to yoga for New Year’s Eve and brought 2011 in peacefully, quietly and wonderfully.
There was skiing, three 30th birthdays, gym, yoga and football.
I turned 28 in February and became a redhead.
I made homemade fortune cookies.
We saw Michael Franti and Spearhead and John Mayer at Madison Square Garden.
We celebrated Kim’s 30th in March. In Europe. With Dave. Nothing and everything was the same after that trip.
We saw Billy Joel and Elton John in Albany.
I ran the Shamrock Run. First and last race of the year.
There was yoga, birthdays, Artisnal cocktails and blind dates.
There was Team Pixie Dust dinner dance and Passover. For 20.
April brought bonfires, yoga, ACS gala, tres leche.
I took a Photoshop course, through a surprise party for my brother at Mercato and went to LA.
In May we went and met the Mendelsen men. It’s a choir. And we love them.
I got new couches, went to meditation, heard Nacirema, drank Grey Dog raspberry ice tea.
I signed a lease.
I cooked ramps.
Went on a booze cruise which lead to changing roles, rules and expectations. Thank you Universe for teaching without hurting too much.
And then I moved. In. With. A. Boy. Roommate.
Had my first and only deer encounter. “Welcome to the country,” I was told.
Went to Dave.
And Mountain Jam.
Baby showers, Relay for Life, babies, Band of Horses and painted the rest of June.
The 4th / housewarming extravaganza.
Then the summer went so fast all of our heads spun. There were concerts.
And backyard BBQs, bonfires, butterflies and sunsets.
My ridiculously fabulous sister turned 21. I remember the day she came home from the hospital. She was very little. She had a curly ‘do. She smelled new. She smirked before she smiled, screamed before she coohed and had me in the palm of her hand before she opened her big brown eyes. Apparently praying for a baby sister every night for nine months worked. Years have passed and there have been ups and downs, but she still made it with grace to the legal age. May she have 100 more birthdays just as great as this one. I will make cake for every single one.
One day two crazy gals ripped out a hot tub from the ground. And then the following weekend built a stone patio. Talk about surprising yourself.
We threw a “Hello Fall BBQ.” This was to subsidize the lack of an end of Summer BBQ. This is also when I learned that everyone doesn’t love parties as much as I do. And I also learned that the same people love me enough to have them anyway.
There was FOOTBALL. Every time we played football in the park I wanted to watch the Daria episode where she yells, “FOOTBALL.” It was my closest connection to my gut reaction in playing the sport. I just wrote playing a sport and me in the same sentence. I think we should call someone about this.
In October I sent off a dear friend to California, my wingwoman. It was sad. I made cake. And that’s all I’m gunna say about that.
There were trips to walking towns, Sunday night dinners and the change of the seasons.
We celebrated Halloween (my most favorite holiday) with a house party. There was decorations, shenanigans and lots of laughter. Please note “Party’s Here” carving stage right.
We went to Philly to cheer on my brother-from-another-mother in his second marathon.
The gaping hole in this 2010 recap will be from mid-November to mid-December. That’s when everyday seemed to be, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” Throw in a 10 year high school reunion, a few mind games and a dash of depression and we’ve covered that chunk of time just fine.
On to the end of December. We bought a Christmas tree. It was a humorous experience and worth every second guess of the “perfect” tree.
Holiday cheer and snow arrived around the same time.
Here we are. Prepping for New Year’s Eve again. How did that happen?
Wishing you all the best for 2011. Thank you for being here and allowing my creative outlet to invade your screen. I have a lot of faith that the best is yet to come. A lot.
Author’s Acknowledgment of Ridiculousness: All names have been changed to protect the innocent, not-so-innocent and the people the author would still like to have a chance of dating in the future.
Thea September 29 at 9:39am
First, please tell Wayne that I believe in the institution of a relationship and I do not want him to break up with his girlfriend. Unless of course he wants to and then by all means he’s a free agent and has my number. But, overall I am not one of those people who think after 3 years of being together that some semi-drunk girl should tell you what to do just because you sang together. Then again maybe I’m on to something. Strike that from the convo. And just give him the apology part.
Second, best phone call of the day was at 8:38 am today. Hello, Hello, Who is this?, Who is this?, Well, I have this number in my phone and I have no idea how it got there or who it was, Who is this?, Weldon, Ohhh… you’re the guy who bought me a drink last night, thanks for remembering, Oh, Well, Um well have a nice day.
Third, Irish car bombs are never a good idea. Ever. Please ignore me anytime I say they are a good idea. Please. And. Thank you.
Fourth, Need honest read on my signing ability and if I should refrain from further such behavior at future outings? I want the truth, even though I say lie to me all the time.
Fifth, Any idea who grabbed my arm last night? I have one of those lovely fingerprint black and blues coming through my pasty white skin.
Sixth, same time, same place next week?
- – -
Heather September 29 at 10:07am
Ha!!!!!!!! This email makes me ridiculously happy.
1) I actually feel no need at all for you to apologize to Wayne, but I will tell him you said so. On a side tangent: His relationship with Wendy has always confused me (never seemed all that into her), but what the hell do I know anyway? He did mention to me that you “took a shine” to him, and I told him that you two would make a good pair, so i am just as guilty as you ; ) He actually responded quickly with the Wendy factor, so maybe he IS starting to feel some loyalty to her. Who knew?
2) Who calls ANYONE at 8:38am in the morning?!?! Especially just to find out who a number is? Isn’t it kind of a default that if you don’t know a number, you probably met them at a bar the night before? Unless you fell somewhere and hit your head, then it opens the possibility to other options. But really, the bar is most likely.
3) I disagree completely with your car bomb diagnosis. I think the actual problem is a lack of a teleportation device to get one home. Or to another bar.
4) DO NOT refrain from singing. It’s fun and goofy, and those are two of your personality traits that I adore. And this is about my needs, so I want you to continue singing. Done.
5) My money is on one of the drunken dudes (perhaps Weldon?) grabbing your arm. Unless Leon had to pull you out of the bar to leave. Then my money would be on her. : )
6) You betcha!!!
Very fun night! And I am even starting to shake my hangover headache! Perhaps I would have thought different about point # 3 if Excedrin did not exist.
- – -
Thea September 29 at 11:23am
a. Well apparently Wayne is not upset with me as I have already received a friend request. Perhaps I should write on his wall an apology about how I am sure after a few choice encounters that I clearly know what is better for him and what he should do with his life. I mean, we sang together, that is moments away from a lifelong friendship of beer. Or in my case vodka.
b. Agreed on all points. Perhaps he didn’t make the cougar connection in his hangover daze. And again, agreed.
c. Teleportation is one of my of my favorite concepts of all time. It’s my go to “if I was a superhero” powers. That and being the bionic woman. But if I had to choice it would be teleportation, I wouldn’t want to be greedy.
d. Thank you for the vote of singing confidence, but I have to say you didn’t tell me if I suck at it or not, you just said it’s for your own personal enjoyment. Sigh.
e. I will ask Leon. She is prolly the best bet. Or Waylon, Weldon, Wyatt or Wayne. Nah, they weren’t that good. BTW total segway. When I first met Waylon (who K8 and I call Pants), I called him Wayne for days and days in conversations. Somehow I couldn’t get it straight in my head. So now having them both in my conversation points is creating a total mindf*ck. Crap. Need another nickname stat. And another segway, which should prolly be in “f” but will stay here, Pants texted me this morning. Interesting development if I say so myself.
f. Fab. I am going to recruit.
All the best in getting over your hangover. Apparently I have laughed mine away recounting last night ridiculousness. And fabulocity.
- – -
Heather September 29 at 12:07pm
I. It’s difficult to recall life before Facebook. Remember when you could do something embarrassing at a bar one night and NEVER SEE THAT PERSON AGAIN?! You didn’t wake up to tagged photos, wall posts and emails. You had some privacy and could maintain some dignity. It’s a world I can remember if I squint my eyes and think real hard. That being said, it’s a world I wouldn’t want to go back to, and yes, I think a wall post is a fabulous idea : )
II. My go-to superhero power is the power to raise the dead. This is not for the noble reasons you might assume, but because I am sometimes lazy or late, and prefer to not have a deadline. To save someone, you have to be there on time. To raise the dead, you can take your sweet time.
III. While I would never tell you if I thought you did suck (mostly because I like to giggle, and I feel strongly that karaoke is a good investment in causing laughter—esp when the person *thinks* they are good), I can tell you that you didn’t. That’s all I remember though. I just know I would have noticed if I thought you sucked, but instead I just enjoyed the show. Oh, and apparently took pictures of. LOTS of pics.
- – -
Thea September 29 at 3:12pm
Well then, I think we are left with me singing with the band, taking / being tagged in lots of pictures, teleporting and maintaining a “friendly” intoxication.
This year has been INSANE. I don’t know how else to explain it. There are no words that could explain what happens when you take your life, dumb it upside down and inside out, move from the city to the country, start a new job, make new friends, make mistakes, travel, make things happen and lose yourself in an evolution of major change.
It is the time of year that we are faced with Yom Kippur. Since I already celebrated my one-year in the country, I feel that this is another anniversary of sorts. Marked by the year passing, what has transpired and what will be. By definition Yom Kippur is known as the Day of Atonement, one of the holiest days of the year. Its central themes are atonement and repentance. The holiday is observed by fasting and going to services. It also concludes the High Holy Days, the Days of Awe.
Appropriately, I will be dividing myself between the country and the city. Attending services the first night at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation (Kehillat Lev Shalem) with my wonderful extended family and then the next day I will go to services with my immediate family at Romemu. Having multiple places to worship is an interesting concept. To think it was not that long ago that people had to hide their religious preferences. And not too long before that when people were not allowed to even have a preference.
We have been throwing around the phrase “clean slate” around lately. Not sure I really want to start over though. I was thinking that I would like to continue this year with perhaps a lil more jazz. A lil more funk. And a lil more adventure. After all, it is the adventures that bring the greatest moments of discovery. I will not wish for anything though. Instead I am going to just ride the wave, pray for easy bumps and more time in between should I must have one.
May we all have the opportunity to start over whenever we like. Whether it be a designated holiday or when you know you have to.
Children bowing the shofar to ring in the New Year.
Dear Thea One Year Ago,
I wanted to let you know that everything is going to be okay. You will eventually recover from the trauma of moving from the city to the country. The next year of your life is going to fly by faster than expected. Hold on and hold tight. Here are a few things you have to look forward to:
1. Your scalp will heal, the nervous scratching stopped shortly after you moved and your skin will end up whole and just fine.
2. You bought a car eventually and learned the country roads just fine. You survived the ‘cash for junkers’ program despite there were no used cars available for you to purchase. You will forgive the government (for this one at least). And you will once again get caught in the middle of negotiations. You did in fact find a good set of wheels.
3. You made it through your first winter. You didn’t freeze, despite every cell in your entire body getting very close to hypothermia. Every morning that it was below zero made you appreciate the 104 degree summer days. You bought cute boots, learned to layer and wore scarves like it was no body’s business.
4. Snowboarding was actually an option for your skill set, even though you will suck at it. You took a lesson, made some lodge friends and didn’t end up in the emergency room. You will even attempt to do it again some day.
5. You will make things in crockpots.
6. Your fear of never making friends is just a fear. You will meet lots of people. Some will stick around. Some will come and go. Some will make you laugh. Some will make you cry. And there are the ones that will even break your heart.
7. You will find out who your real friends are from your pre-country life. And it will not be who you expected it to be. True colors – even the ugly ones – shine through when life changing decisions – moving to the country – happen. Even worse, you will lose some on the waste side. The rest of your friendships become family. Have faith that it is all happening for a reason.
8. You will go on awful first dates. One will be a whole 59 minutes.
9. You will continue to amaze the people who don’t really know you. You ‘do you’ well. Have faith in that.
10. You will teach meditation classes, host holidays for twenty, clean up dead bugs, catch a groundhog, laugh till you snort, heck laugh ’till wine comes out of your nose, take a friend to the ER, run recon adventures, taste the most amazing cheeses in the world and hear ridiculously fabulous music. All the time. Everywhere.
11. You will live it up in Belgium, London, the Netherlands, Italy, have a pit stop in Paris and get your passport stamped. You will be told you have the longest arms in all of Brussels, you have the most gorgeous eyes in all of Antwerp and kiss a boy in a Belgium pub.
12. You will miss your sister more than you even anticipated. She will continue to grow up without you there everyday. She will be fine. So will you. Promise.
13. Your will lose people to death. It will be sad. And they will be missed.
14. Trust will happen. Don’t let it freak you out too much, because there are pleasant surprises to come from letting go. It’s a risk, but have a lil faith.
15. Magic in the kitchen. All the time.
16. Challenge finds you no matter where you live.
17. Motivation is now your responsibility, make it happen, don’t get lazy.
18. A house to rent awaits you. It has yellow walls, an orange kitchen and a blue room. Safety and serenity lives there. You will buy things at stores that sell walls at 3 in the morning for the colorful house. And there is a roommate. A good one.
19. The loss of the city in your daily life does not feel better after time, it just feels different and somewhat manageable.
20. Just sayin’, obvi, heart, clearly and large hand motions are your stamp on the Hudson Valley.
21. The gym and yoga become a life force, I know, I still don’t believe that one either.
22. You won’t find your true love, but you are closer and clearer on the whole process.
23. The things that seem the most important to you (heels, the East End, the patio, wine and cheese, your old cube, Barci, the East River, the walk to Rachel’s, the cross town bus, drunk texting, brainstorms, late night drinks and places as last names in your cell phone) all shift in importance and relevance. Earth shattering, but again, it will be okay.
24. You will sign a lease for a year, even nine months into the adventure, and feel good about it.
I just thought you should know that there is a wicked awesome adventure headed your way. Perhaps, you should pick up some extra padding, sugar and bug spray. It’s going to be an interesting ride. To say the least.
Lots of love,
A Year From Now Thea
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” ~ T.S. Elliot
The perks continue from here.
So it’s has become one of the main perks, what some would call a large perk. Perhaps even mahussive. Having a river flow through your front yard is kindof a big deal. I am happy to report that I not only have this perk, but completely appreciate it each and every day.
And when I leave this place that I have called home for the last nine months and go to my very own house, the river will still be there, in all of her glory, flowing as consistently as the night comes at the end of each day. I often wonder if people here realize how gorgeous she is. There are clubs and activists that talk about her often, but does neighbor Bob look at her the same way after being in her presence all of these years? I hope so. It would be a sad sad day when someone didn’t look out at this and didn’t smile or nod in appreciation.
And that big brother, he continues to be a perk. Sitting on a plane, waiting to take off, an overhead bin was opened and a laptop in said case, fell on said head.
The gentleman who owned the laptop said he was “sorry.”
I said, “it’s ok, I have a hard head.”
“He said do you have a brother?”
I pointed across the aisle.
“Then you have to have a hard head.”
The passenger wasn’t funny really, actually quite loud and lame. He was inferring that having grown up with a brother (which I didn’t) and getting beaten up (which I hadn’t) had made me a tough cookie. But the pointing to him, that was far from lame. It was a cross-country split second trip that made the instant brother / sister role even more apparent. Showing up. It’s a shared trait we had for someone who was in need. The trait thicker than blood.
The perk list has lately been overshadowed with one that I don’t exclusively benefit from. It’s more of everyone around me benefitting from one of my moving to the country perks.
It’s baking and cooking and sharing. The latest food successes were slow cooked pot roast, tres leche cake and a chocolate cheesecake with slow hand stirred ganache, that may have put people over the edge. I do believe my greatest compliments to date was at a dinner party. Among the bustle and chatter, there was an explosion of noise, “Oh my god… this is like food sex in my mouth.” The party ceased at that moment and all was right with the world as I had received my greatest foodie compliment to date. I created an orgasmic savoring moment in time. Nourishment that I had created with my own two hands. It’s that moment, the moment of unrequested compliment and compliance that makes cooking the “icing on the cake” of my existence.
I have spent a lot of time focusing on the perks, maybe it is to avoid the consciousness of what I am missing out on… Deciding what you are going to focus on in itself is a moment of growth. Not letting the negative be part of what you focus on. Choosing to be in the present with the country moments, those I would not had if I didn’t relocate, change things up, stir in some insanity to an otherwise “sane” martooni of an existence.
I can admit that my heart is still in Manhattan, perched on a ledge of my former UES patio, at the bar where everyone knows my name, at the corner of 19th and my favorite kitchenware store, in the back of an overpriced cab at three in the morning, in the neon sign of a regular stop in a twisted evening of adventure, in the heels hitting the uneven pavement and in my sister’s gorgeous face, once a single subway ride away.
