Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love

I finally understood – only just today – what people see in Van Halen. I mean, they’re no Judas Priest, but then, they’re also all so very painfully straight, despite the pirate pants. Or rather, maybe it’s that I today realized how Eddie Van Halen can actually, truly rock, so I guess it’s good they named the band after him. Ideally, if I could listen and filter out all the David Lee Roth or the Sammy Hagar, then I would feel like I could like Van Halen, and I wouldn’t be disappointing Henry Rollins so.

They’re still no Judas Priest, though.


But then, not just anybody can be Rob Halford.

I'm kinda lucky.

I'm not lucky the way I want to be, but I find money like other people find gray hairs. Frequently it's silver. I found about 50 cents in silver this past weekend. I found a dime today. I can't even count the times I've found fivers. I've found tens at least 4 or 5 times in my life. And then there was the time about nine months ago when I found $56 on the sidewalk. I find unused metro cards. Monkey finds these more frequently than I do, but I still occasionally find them and treat them like found money.

So this morning, I found a nice, shiny dime, and I was thinking about my luck with the greater denominations of paper and coinage. A few minutes later I discovered that I won tickets to the one AFI Silverdocs offering that I really really really wanted to see.

I rock.

Just so you know.

...Maybe I am a little lucky the way I want to be.

Catching Up

It just seems that things are never going to reach a happy stasis. I know, I know… it’s stupid of me to even assume that that could ever be the case, but a girl’s gotta hope.

So –
I should preface by saying that I have not been to NYC since before 9/11. 1995 or 1996 to be exact, so while I knew that the city had changed and that the skyline would look different, I still wasn’t quite prepared to enter the city and actually see it different. As a child, you could tell you were approaching the city because the twin towers were unmistakable. Approaching the city as an adult, I felt like I was driving into just-another-large city. Something had obviously been severed from the city, and it was a little upsetting to me. But on to less sobering things…

My trip to the Apple was fun. I spent the weekend with PandaFanatic, and while it was in no way relaxing, I did eat my way across town and went shopping on the cheap. My first real bagels in almost two YEARS! …Almost made a girl cry. I have also learned that you can be absolutely broke and still walk away with extra food to take home if you eat in Chinatown. Chinatown also has goat bellies for sale. We even took a picture for monkey and sent it to him.

PF took me to a cabaret show, which turned out to be immense fun. If you happen to head north and are in the mood for the lyrical stylings of a man very much in love with The Mouse, check the Duplex.

We eventually made our way to an Italian Bakery so I could bring home to monkey a little taste of my childhood. We soon learned that my childhood was flavored with suburb-cookies – cookies still being made by immigrants – while the only thing available were city-cookies – cookies being made (deliciously, albeit disappointingly) by third gens. (Incidetally, I am third gen, so I mean no insult: I readily concede I could never make anything to rival the cooking or baking of Le Nonne Maria e Teresa.)

Suburb cookies take a lot of work because they come in more varieties than PF and I have fingers and toes. City cookies pay a premium for their storefronts, so they have a very small selection, though this means they can afford to make their smaller selection of goods exceptionally well. Where were the leaf cookies? Where were the pigniolis rolled in anisette jimmies? In City-cookie defense, I have never had such a good pignioli: fresh and chewy and delicately sweet. I’d never liked them as a kid, but these could definitely start making their way to the top. As well, I got a sfogliatelle (Lobster Tail) which was absolutely delicious. They were out of vanilla crèmes, so I got a chocolate one, even though I was suspect. I hoped that the chocolate wouldn’t have a washed out flavor. Oh, Ophelia of little faith! I don’t think I’ve ever had better chocolate crème. And I suspect that these sfoges aren’t even among the shining apexes of perfect sfogliatelle; I’ve heard the best are in Philly. The pastry shop was Veniero’s, in case you need to know for future reference. Be prepared to stand in line.

Since my return to the small-town streets of DC, I’ve been working on [still] trying to get my life in order. The apartment is a mess, but slowly shaping up. It’s time [AGAIN] to groom the children – they’re getting sharp, and I’m having to learn to juggle my morning routine with the Monkey, who is still getting into his own routine.

I’ve also decided to start doing some things to bring about change in my life. Among them is a goal to lose weight with PF while she visits this summer. We will see how this goes. I will attempt to give updates as necessary, but as for now, the only real update is that I am hungry, and I have no way to remedy that at the moment.

Cheers.