Oh man, do I love the Winter Olympics.
After a terrifyingly intense gold medal men's hockey game tonight, the closing ceremonies should be starting up any minute (after a super-long montage of Olympic moments). And I'm bummed! Nate has been making fun of me since the Opening Ceremonies by quoting Jerry Seinfeld at me. Apparently, he has a bit from years back talking about how much he loves "an event where nations compete," and I really do! This event had everything I could want: sports you never see (Biathlon, Nordic combined, aerials, etc.), heart-warming stories (example: they're playing Alexander Bilodeau medal win again right now, and I don't care how manipulative it is I AM NOT CRYING. Not much, anyway), great hockey, hours and hours and hours of curling, lots of stories about the glories of the host nation, a giant bear, slam poetry and faux whales ... In fact, I am super sad it's over tonight, and not only because Nickelback is performing at the closing ceremonies. Mostly because it will be 2014 before the winter Olympics are back on, and that is, as the perky newswoman just informed us, 800+ days away. I suppose it would make the games less special if they were on every year, but I don't see why we can't give it a try.
In the meantime, I can watch Seinfeld on the Olympics. And that's not all bad.
From "I'm telling You for the Last Time"
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Greatness
Today did not seem like it would be a perfect day -- but ahh, appearances can be deceiving.
I've well and truly caught the sniffling-eyes-running-nose-running-post-nasal-drop that brought Nate low last week, and so this morning (after having some friends over for legume-filled burritos and the Opening Ceremonies) I was feeling fairly lousy. Mornings are always the worst part. But I couldn't wallow in my muscus-y squalor: it's Fashion Week and I was meeting some FN people at the Tents (last season at the Tents, which feels a little melancholy) for a 10am show. But I went to the show, underdressed for the cold and in my most uncomfortable heels, tweeted, checked out Training Camp and then did some shopping, both Valentine's Day related and personal. Dropped by CVS on the way home and battled the cold and the extremely heavy bags to make it home. And this is where things take a turn for the awesome.
I made myself some warm lunch and put on pyjamas, and after lunch sat on the couch with an immense feeling of well-being (as well as a pot of tea and whole-wheat bread with nutella). I had been out and now was in. I had been cold, but now was warm. I had been hungry, but now was fed. But even better -- the day was young, and I had a whole afternoon in front of me, abundant nap opportunities, a brand-new Robert B. Parker novel to read, time to play the Sims. It was a snowy clear day with lots of sunlight, and the Olympics are on all afternoon. Tonight my dear spouse unit (who, incidentally, sent me gorgeous flowers at work yesterday) has made dinner reservations at a location to be revealed later. And best of all, we had some pseudoephedrine left over at home, so my head might even slow down its inexorable drips. Today is a great day.
I've well and truly caught the sniffling-eyes-running-nose-running-post-nasal-drop that brought Nate low last week, and so this morning (after having some friends over for legume-filled burritos and the Opening Ceremonies) I was feeling fairly lousy. Mornings are always the worst part. But I couldn't wallow in my muscus-y squalor: it's Fashion Week and I was meeting some FN people at the Tents (last season at the Tents, which feels a little melancholy) for a 10am show. But I went to the show, underdressed for the cold and in my most uncomfortable heels, tweeted, checked out Training Camp and then did some shopping, both Valentine's Day related and personal. Dropped by CVS on the way home and battled the cold and the extremely heavy bags to make it home. And this is where things take a turn for the awesome.
I made myself some warm lunch and put on pyjamas, and after lunch sat on the couch with an immense feeling of well-being (as well as a pot of tea and whole-wheat bread with nutella). I had been out and now was in. I had been cold, but now was warm. I had been hungry, but now was fed. But even better -- the day was young, and I had a whole afternoon in front of me, abundant nap opportunities, a brand-new Robert B. Parker novel to read, time to play the Sims. It was a snowy clear day with lots of sunlight, and the Olympics are on all afternoon. Tonight my dear spouse unit (who, incidentally, sent me gorgeous flowers at work yesterday) has made dinner reservations at a location to be revealed later. And best of all, we had some pseudoephedrine left over at home, so my head might even slow down its inexorable drips. Today is a great day.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
If I Knew You Were Coming ...
I baked a cake tonight, and while I don't want to brag, it's looking mighty fine.
It's a recipe from my mother-in-law, and it is one of the most gloriously 50s desserts I have ever seen -- a fluffy pink-and-white maraschino cherry cake with pink icing studded with maraschino cherries. Sandy made it for Christmas this year, and it was outstanding. I've baked it in honor of St. Valentine's Day -- it looks like the kind of cake one should eat after stuffing My Favorite Monster valentines into brown paper mailboxes with heartmen with sprongy arms, or mangling red construction paper and doilies into greetings for mom. I was going to make a cupcake version, but I couldn't figure out how to transport the cupcakes into work. And I'm out of cupcake papers. But it's made more challenging by SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010! Looking out the window, I would guess there is 6 inches, maybe 7 on the ground here in Rye (yeah, we moved! Details later), with the snow expected to continue until 6am. The feeling that it is SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010 has been exacerbated by the fact that Nate -- who closed his store at 2pm -- has been watching news coverage of the storm nonstop, starting last night, continuing into this morning, and picking back up again after dinner. (Note: News 12 Westchester just said we have received between 6 and 8 inches -- Boom! My estimating skills are better than I thought.)
It's all very reminiscent of the blizzard of 2003, which is my all-time favorite. It took place over Valentine's Day and the President's Day long weekend -- Nate was visiting for the first Valentine's Day we ever spent together, and he got snowed in for two (or was it three?) days. It was great. We ate huge meals, watched our crappy only-public-access channels TV, I wrote some stories and once the weather broke and I was stir crazy, walked to Times Square, ate at Applebee's, and watched people step in the huge slush resevoirs by the curbs, when we weren't stepping in them ourselves. Totally the best blizzard ever -- rated on a scale where the blizzard of 2003 is a 10, SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010 is a 5. Maybe a 6, actually, given that we both got home early to avoid the icy Snowpocalypse roads, which gave us enough time to snuggle like demons and still have time for me to make a cake.
So, apart from my cake, what's been new in the almost-year since I last posted? The knee, as it approaches one year post-surgery, is in fine shape: it hasn't dislocated or snagged or even wobbled. The scar is no longer an angry livid red but a more pale fleshy pink. It's still sore after I go to the gym or go for a run, but it works, it bends, it supports me, it's amazing. Nate and I moved to the burbs after he got offered his own store in Connecticut, but other than that, life isn't too different. Same job, same rad husband, just more fresh air and a more costly commuter rail bill. And a better oven for cakes.
It's a recipe from my mother-in-law, and it is one of the most gloriously 50s desserts I have ever seen -- a fluffy pink-and-white maraschino cherry cake with pink icing studded with maraschino cherries. Sandy made it for Christmas this year, and it was outstanding. I've baked it in honor of St. Valentine's Day -- it looks like the kind of cake one should eat after stuffing My Favorite Monster valentines into brown paper mailboxes with heartmen with sprongy arms, or mangling red construction paper and doilies into greetings for mom. I was going to make a cupcake version, but I couldn't figure out how to transport the cupcakes into work. And I'm out of cupcake papers. But it's made more challenging by SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010! Looking out the window, I would guess there is 6 inches, maybe 7 on the ground here in Rye (yeah, we moved! Details later), with the snow expected to continue until 6am. The feeling that it is SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010 has been exacerbated by the fact that Nate -- who closed his store at 2pm -- has been watching news coverage of the storm nonstop, starting last night, continuing into this morning, and picking back up again after dinner. (Note: News 12 Westchester just said we have received between 6 and 8 inches -- Boom! My estimating skills are better than I thought.)
It's all very reminiscent of the blizzard of 2003, which is my all-time favorite. It took place over Valentine's Day and the President's Day long weekend -- Nate was visiting for the first Valentine's Day we ever spent together, and he got snowed in for two (or was it three?) days. It was great. We ate huge meals, watched our crappy only-public-access channels TV, I wrote some stories and once the weather broke and I was stir crazy, walked to Times Square, ate at Applebee's, and watched people step in the huge slush resevoirs by the curbs, when we weren't stepping in them ourselves. Totally the best blizzard ever -- rated on a scale where the blizzard of 2003 is a 10, SNOWPOCALYPSE 2010 is a 5. Maybe a 6, actually, given that we both got home early to avoid the icy Snowpocalypse roads, which gave us enough time to snuggle like demons and still have time for me to make a cake.
So, apart from my cake, what's been new in the almost-year since I last posted? The knee, as it approaches one year post-surgery, is in fine shape: it hasn't dislocated or snagged or even wobbled. The scar is no longer an angry livid red but a more pale fleshy pink. It's still sore after I go to the gym or go for a run, but it works, it bends, it supports me, it's amazing. Nate and I moved to the burbs after he got offered his own store in Connecticut, but other than that, life isn't too different. Same job, same rad husband, just more fresh air and a more costly commuter rail bill. And a better oven for cakes.
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