Christmas baking...

You know your cooking is going badly when you start using a meat tenderizer and you're not cooking meat.

Welcome to My Anecdotal Life.

Hello All,

I'm setting up this forum to share my stories with you. I will try to update it at least monthly/weekly.

I Earned a Commuting Badge Today...

It's a bad sign when the train conductor comes on and announces delays ahead. It's even worse when he tells you that there are "switch problems," and they'll be opening the doors at an unscheduled stop so people can "get out, stretch their legs, have a cigarette." Eventually he told us that service had been suspended between Penn Station and Jamaica and Atlantic Terminal and Jamaica. The worst news came when the conductor came on to tell us that the train would be turning around and heading back to Penn Station. Actually, I can't even be sure that he said we'd be going back to Penn Station or returning to the yard. All I heard from him was that the train would be heading back in a direction I did not want to be headed. My ass came off that train seat faster than you can say, "suspended service."

Suddenly it's one for all and all for one, except it's also "every man for himself." The woman who proudly declared, "I'm following you," was eventually in front of me leading the charge to the subway. From there it was a matter of piecing together the route home from fellow straphangers while simultaneously standing inappropriately close to them.

"You can take the 7 train to Jamaica," someone said and off I went. Up the stairs and over to catch the 7 train. Aboard the 7 train, I felt comfortable because in 3 stops we would be at Jamaica Center. Except, as it turns out, Jamaica Center, is not the same Jamaica from where the LIRR leaves.

"You have to switch to the E at 79th Street," someone shared. That didn't sound so difficult. I deboarded the 7 train, found my way to the E train platform and boarded an F train. Yes, that's correct, an F train. I followed the crowds thinking I was boarding an express E train. Apparently, F trains were running on the E track. I didn't even know there was an F train, but two stops later and I was again deboarding the wrong subway, and boarding the correct E train. Finally aboard the correct train and sandwiched between two enormous women, I was feeling like a hero. "I'm going to get home tonight!"

"This is my 'nam," I thought to myself as the subway approached Jamaica.

"Babylon train, track 5," a police officer said as he attempted to help direct people.

Out of my way, that was my train. I wanted to throw a few elbows, but I restrained myself. I finally made it to the train and sat myself down next to a lovely smelling gentlemen wearing body odor cologne and in front of a woman with the bubonic plague. It didn't matter, I was on a train that would be going east towards my stop.

I left work at 4:15pm. Took a 2/3 train to Penn Station, caught a 4:37pm train from Penn Station to Lynbrook, we stopped unexpectedly in Woodside, where I caught a 7 train, then an F train, then an E train, and then reboarded a LIRR train at Jamaica, which brought me to my stop. I arrived home at 6:30. Two hours and 15 minutes of commuting. Four subways. Two LIRR trains. And that's not even including my morning commute.

A Love Letter...

Dear 1997 Saab 900:

It's been 10 years since our eyes first met. It was 2001. Me, a recent college grad. You, a trade-in. I was only 21 years old. You were 40k miles young. Our courtship was brief. I got my first job and needed a car, but between receiving the job offer and starting work, I was going to Ireland for 2 weeks. I went straight to the Saab dealer and

you were the only pre-owned car available, but you were perfect. I didn't need to look any further, and I didn't. The salesman gave me all the sales pitches--low mileage, garaged, new tires, sunroof--but I didn't need to hear anything. The deal was immediately sealed and my dad picked you up before my return from Ireland. We referred to you as "the baby." You were the first big purchase I ever made. I spent all of my hard earned money (and some of my parent's money too - thanks guys!). I took pride in cleaning you myself.

We spent a lot of time together those first few years. Every morning and every afternoon we were together, in good times and in bad. Do you remember those gorgeous fall evenings, with your sunroof open and the windows down? We would cruise home without a care in the world. Then I started law school and you continued to be my loyal steed. There was that one time you got that flat in the parking lot. It was rare for me to be at the library that late, but I was. When I went outside to go home, I saw your sad flat tire. I called my brother. Madeleine was still very young and he was up all hours of the night. He came to help me fix it, but neither one of us could budge the lug nuts. We left you there for the night. I remember going to my

parent's house, taking their car, and leaving a note. The following day, my dad was able to budge the nuts and replace the tire.

After law school, we moved to D.C. together. I held off getting you DC plates because you were parked in my private driveway in Foggy Bottom. Even there, you weren't safe. Remember Thanksgiving morning? I went to take the garbage out before heading to the airport, to find your back window completely smashed in. An act of random violence, they said. I was almost running late for the airport so I took down the shower curtain and covered the back of the car to keep you dry over the weekend. Once I got back to D.C. I repaired the window, but by then your battery had died because your alarm had gone off all weekend long. Do you know I still sometimes find shards of glass?

Finally, we moved to Cleveland Park and I had to get you D.C. plates and a parking pass so I could leave you on the street during the day. You couldn't pass inspection for some reason

though. The mechanic did everything he could, but he couldn't get you to pass. D.C. DMV had suggested the computers would reset if you could get the car above 65mph for 5 minutes. The mechanic took you home to rural Maryland one night to reset your computers (your first overnight), but you still couldn't pass. I was very frustrated making all of those visits to the D.C. DMV. Finally, we went out to the dealership in Virginia and they found a crack in one of your hoses, which was preventing your temperatures from getting high enough. A few repairs later and you passed. I've never been prouder of you.

I can't believe we have traveled almost 100k miles together. That trip to Atlanta was the longest trip we ever took together. We went South with a then-boyfriend and came home as a single woman. That was a fun summer for me, but I'm sorry I made you suffer through that

heat. If it makes you feel any better, your air conditioning never felt colder.

100k miles is a lot. Most of those miles were good. Some weren't. Remember that time you decided you had had enough in Delaware? You just up and stopped working. It was a very warm summer evening, my cell phone was almost dead. The traffic was horrific that night. As I pulled into a rest stop, I found that I wasn't able to turn the steering wheel anymore. After a frantic call to my parents, who couldn't do anything from so far away, I called AAA and waited for the tow truck to come get us. I endured that 100-mile tow with that insane driver, while you sat smugly on the flatbed without a care in the world. What you didn't know then was that after this night, I briefly considered selling you. It hurts me to say this, but I even wrote up your "For Sale" ad. But I couldn't do it. I paid for the repairs and kept you around.

That wasn't the last of the trouble you would give me. Your side mirror got smash

ed off a few weeks later. That wasn't your fault

and I'm sorry if I took it out on you. Surprisingly, someone left a note saying they had done the damage and wanted to pay for it. And she did pay for it. You were good as new.

There was only one other incident. It was in Andover, Massachusetts. I was up there for work. Morgan drove you up to meet me, but you weren't having any of it. You just stopped working. AAA came and we had you repaired nearby and were able to drive you home. I was quite bitter after that, but I remember a lot of

good times too. I'm sorry I don't keep you as clean as I used to. I still have your oil changed regularly and I know you notice.

Thank you for being the most constant companion I've ever had. You're far from the baby you once were, but you're still a good car. I will continue to keep up with your repairs and I promise I won't discard of you, unless you give me good reason.

Always,

Dana

Thirty-One and a Half!

Let's take a look back at my 30 Under 30 List and see how I've done:

30 Things to Do Before I Turn 30

1. Shoot a gun/take shooting lessons.
   
2. Learn French. Working on it! It's definitely coming along.
   
3. Take tap/ballet classes. I accidentally stumbled into a cardio dance class at the gym, too embarrassed to leave, I did the whole class. I know this doesn't count, but it's something.
   
4. Go to a casino. Yup, for my bachelorette party - Atlantic City (2010).
   
5. Do Bike NY again.
   
6. Take a photography class/digital camera class.
7. Have a full spa day. Pretty much - the day before our wedding I spent a good amount of time at the spa.
   
8. 100-mile bike ride. Who put this on here!? Is this REALLY something I want to do. See #26.
   
9. Visit Canada. No. My husband went to Montreal for his bachelor party, at least I got to a casino for mine and checked off #4.
   
10. Buy real estate. Check.
    
11. Visit Michelle and Monica in Jacksonville. Check. Check. I visited them twice.
    
12. Finish reading And the Band Played On. I didn't even let myself rent the movie because I was still convinced I would finish the book. And since I wrote this list, I can add probably 5 more books that I didn't finish. Fail.
    
13. Go to a taping of SNL (or another decent late night show).
14. Own at least 15 of my favorite movies on DVD. I think I may have bought ONE dvd since I originally wrote this. Fail.
    
15. Get frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity.
    
16. Take a cooking class.
    
17. Visit Mom/Dad’s place in Burnt Store Marina. Check. Just briefly, but it still counts.
    
18. Treat my family to dinner. Check.
    
19. Finish a Sunday crossword puzzle. I finish crosswords all the time. I'm not sure why I went so ambitious with this one. Check.
    
20. Take Pilates classes. I took a few hot yoga classes. Does that count for something??
    
21. Frame travel photos/hang travel photos. Check.
    
22. Go cross-country skiing. Check.
    
23. Pay off one loan.
    
24. Watch all 3 Godfathers.
25. Learn stick shift.
26. Run a 5k. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. I ran several 5ks AND a 10k, and a 5 miler, AND a half marathon. Thankyouverymuch.
    
27. Get a job. Check. And it's kind of the greatest most perfectest job ever (Remember, we're suspending disbelief when I make up words like "perfectest").
    
28. Visit a new wine region. Check. We went to Burgundy, France on our honeymoon. AND we went to Reims, France, which is the region where they produce champagne. Check.
    
29. Blog more frequently. I'm blogging right this very second. That must count for something.
    
30. Read A People’s History of The United States. No, but I did borrow a book like this from my co-worker. Did I finish it? No.
    

Maybe I should make a MUCH MUCH shorter list of things to accomplish before the end of this year.

I would still like to:
1. Shoot a gun.
2. Go to a taping of a late night show.
3. Watch all 3 Godfathers.
4. Get a frozen hot chocolate from Serendipity.
5. Rent And the Band Played On.

Who's going to help me with these??

My Heap Runneth Over.

Well, it's not quite running over, but the compost I had been gathering in my kitchen is plenty to get it started. See, I started with one large "can" to collect kitchen scraps, but that was soon full. So I had to fish through our recycling bin for the original small can I had (you should have seen the look on Morgan's face when he found me rooting through the garbage). And THEN my small can was filled up, so I had to grab a large Tupperware container to continue collecting kitchen scraps.

Now picture me home on Valentine's Day, waiting for Morgan to come home, and in he walks with a dozen red roses, a balloon, a box of chocolates, groceries (to make me fondue), and a homemade compost bin receptacle! What an amazing valentine's day, right? Except, one of those things didn't come into my life on Valentine's Day. It was the compost bin receptacle!! Aww shucks! But I know it's coming because he's already started assembling it in the basement. But today I had no choice but to officially start my bin INDOORS. His bin will allow me to move the bin securely OUTDOORS. I should also mention here that normally I do not desire cut flowers. They die and it's just unnecessary, but when Morgan walked in with a dozen cut roses all I could see was a dozen things to put into my heap!! Once they die. I'm not that crazy.

OK, so here I go to start my trash heap!!

Step one: gather dried leaves. I had intended to walk to a nearby nature path and gather some dried leaves, but much to my delight I found an old abandoned Chinese food restaurant along the way with an abundance of dried leaves. You should have seen the look on the stranger's faces as I gathered up trash from the abandoned restaurant. Not trash - leaves. Dried leaves. Maybe I should have waited until it was dark to do this. While I gathered up leaves, people looked on confused, while the dog dug her nose into....I don't even want to know. I'm pretty sure she fished out a dried turd that I then had to pry from her mouth.

Step two: drill more holes in my bin. I pre-emptively decided I needed more air to my trash heap, so I took out my old trusty drill and drilled more holes. This was a spectacle in itself. Having not used my drill since, maybe 2006, I had to charge the battery. Keep in mind, I have the patience of a....child. I soon realized the spare battery had some charge, and I used that....to drill about 3 holes. So I switched batteries, put the first battery on the charger, drilled another...3 holes when it too ran out of charge. Repeat. I finally had holes drilled all over my trash heap bin.

Step three: FILL. I gathered up all of my items. One whole foods bag of dried leaves. One Godiva bag full of one banana peel and some baby's breadth. OH...that's another story. On my way home from work, I came across the nearby florist throwing out flower scraps. I initially brushed it off and kept walking, but....I. Could. Not. Resist. And so I started stuffing whatever I could into this Godiva bag I was carrying. Why did I have a Godiva bag with a banana peel in it?? Because I brought it home from work to add to my heap. Obsess much?? In a word, yes.

So I gathered up my 2 coffee tins, one Tupperware, a bag of leaves, a Godiva bag of...whatever, and my bin and headed off to the basement.

Step four: LAYER. Brown leaves first. Initially, I felt really kind of embarrassed that I had gathered these leaves off of the ground. But what were my alternatives? My co-worker had offered to give me dried leaves from her heap!? Umm, "no, thanks, we have leaves on long island," I politely replied. On top of the brown leaves I put all the kitchen scraps and then the rest of the dried leaves. This is supposed to keep the smell and the pests out. The holes are supposed to bring air to the heap and keep it....working.

Step five: WAIT. Not forever though. I have to turn it every few days. I will check back this weekend.

I know you all can't wait. I have a good feeling that this will be a long waiting game though. (see previous mention of me having the patience of a child)

Stay tuned!

It's Been So Long Since Last We Met...

It seems that the last time I posted was 2 years ago almost to the day. This is embarrassing! But I'm back! And quite a lot has happened since I last wrote.

For starters, meet Morgan:


(Morgan, left; Rhino ass, right -- Bronx Zoo 2009)

We found ourselves both living in New York (state, not city), only 3 hours apart. Yada, yada, yada, love bloomed! And how lucky it was for us!

We got engaged:


(St. Thomas - 8/14/2009)

Moved in together:


(Apt 57 -- October 2009)

Got married:


(Martha Clara Vineyard -- 5/30/2010)

Went on an amazing honeymoon:


(Cap d'ail, France -- June 2010)

Got a dog:


(Adopted 8/8/10)

Ahem, a bad dog:




And....oh that's about it for now. So for most of 2009 and all of 2010, I have not blogged. Sad, right? Because they were probably the most life changing 2 years of my life, thus far. I think I adequately summed it up though.

But with this new year come lots of new projects that I would like to document in the blogosphere! For starters, I have decided to start composting. Let me try that again....I decided to start COMPOSTING!!! WOOHOO!! YEA!! Yes, that's right. Right here in this little apartment. Ok, not IN the apartment. Well, that thought did cross my mind. And after a lot of research, I decided to compost in our storage unit in the basement. But after "consulting" with Morgan, I "decided" it is probably better if I do it outside on our front "patio." Our conversation went something like this:

D: I have a great idea, I am going to compost...in the basement!
M: In the basement?
D: Yes, in our storage unit. Will you help me drill holes in this storage bin?
M: Let me get this straight, you want to store a pile of smelly rotting food in our storage unit?
D: Yes.
M: THIS unit? Where we keep our winter and summer clothes?
D: Yes. I guess if it gets too smelly I could....move it outside.
M: Just making sure I understand you and as long as you don't put a bunch of garbage in this bin and then forget about it.

He would have let me do it too, but after we drilled the holes in the bin I thought maybe there was a way to have this "trash heap" outside. More research, and I think this might just work. I'm sort of imagining it looking like this:


(Trash Heap, Fraggle Rock)

So I got a coffee container to store food scraps in. That text exchange went something like this:
[From me to my brothers]: Do you buy coffee in large cans?
[Brothers]: No, why?
[From me to my brothers]: I guess what I'm asking is, do you have large cans?
[Brother #1]: No, but mom does.

And sure enough, Mom did have large cans, with the minor caveat that they were actually large plastic "cans." So armed with a large can I convinced Morgan to build me a wooden bin for outside in which my storage bin will go. Hopefully, the super won't notice the trash heap outside of our window. I figure I can always move it to my parent's house if needed (sshhh, don't tell them). So far I just have a can of scraps and I'm waiting for Morgan to make the crate. I hope it's here in time for valentine's day because nothing says "i love you" like a big pile of trash! A cupcake and a card might convey the same message.

My other new project is preparing to give up dairy and meat for lent. Just preparing at this point.

Check back for updates! It's sure to be a big, stinky, (hopefully steamy) frustrating mess!