Alaina’s Awesome Adventure…Featuring Weezer, a yappy dog, zitty teens, and a big ass hole in the ground
Its been almost a month since my last blog entry, and with good reason — I have been super busy — I was flitting about the West Coast for a few weeks, and recently I have been flitting all about New York City.
At any rate, I’m sad to report that summer is officially over, although apparently someone didn’t get the memo since its hot as you know what around here. So below I’m going to relive my final days of summer….
Beverly Hills (or rather West Hollywood)…That’s Where I Wanna Be…
Weezer was all about it, and I can see why. The last time I was in Los Angeles, we stayed slightly outside of the city in South Gate. I’m a New York City girl and I’m not used to driving at all, much less driving in traffic. The constant driving back and forth trying to see everything, and the driving from downtown to the West Side, to South Gate and back again kind of wore me down. I was pretty anti Los Angeles after that. But this time I stayed in West Hollywood, and did barely any driving (except when Juanny and I went to Santa Barbara — more details later)… I’m seeing L.A. in a totally different light. I’m busy concocting copious plans to move there.
'Tis the Season Pancakes from The Griddle
My visit consisted of the basics: eating enormous pancakes at the Griddle (7916 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA), beaching in Santa Monica (I don’t care what people from L.A. say, I love the beach, and the sun came out for our visit), and hanging out at Barney’s Beanery (8447 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood, CA), the Abbey (692 N. Robertson Blvd., West Hollywood, CA), and St. Nick’s Pub (8450 West 3rd Street, Lost Angeles, CA).
Gardens at Old Mission Santa Barbara. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
Vineyards. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
On my last day in town, Juanny and I drove up to Santa Barbara and we explored the Old Mission. There’s just something amazing about Old Santa Barbara. I love the Spanish architecture, and I adore how its nestled in the middle of the Santa Ynez Valley’s wine country. Juanny and I ended up the day by going to two wineries – the Gainey Winery (3950 E. Highway 246, Santa Ynez, CA), where I got a fantastic 2007 Riesling, and the Melville Winery in Lompoc, CA (5185 E. Highway 246, Lompoc, CA), where I got a special reserve Pinot Noir also bottled in 2007. We attempted to go to a third, but they had already closed for the day. Truly, its for the best. I am an extreme lightweight, and I would have been spitting my wine out anyway as I was driving home.
On the way home we stopped at what Juan calls the “most cloyingly cute town in the world”….Solvang, CA. Its an old Danish town that is now an awful tourist trap. I’d maybe feel better about it if it were a real working town instead of something that people just went to for touristy purposes. But because nobody actually lives there, I feel like it lacks authenticity.
Solvang Post Office. (c) Juan Valles, 2009.
To all of you Angelenos out there — Eunice, Eunice’s friend Dan, and Juanny and I had dinner at this amazing tapas style Italian place called Barbrix in Silver Lake (2442 Hyperion Avenue, Los Angeles, CA). I understand that driving to Silver Lake is somewhat like taking the L to Williamsburg, but hear me out — the tapas were truly amazing, and not very expensive ($ 4 – 13), and they had a terrific wine and beer selection (including several German craft beers and Baltic wines — I mean, wine from Croatia is not the first thing I think of when I think of a delicious bottle of red) I had the squash blossoms which were decent — they were stuffed with ricotta cheese, battered and deep fried. They could have used more flavor. The hamachi sashimi was also fantastic, as was the sliced strip steak covered with shaved parmesan and an arugula salad. I’m think Silver Lake is fabulous, and I would definitely go back over the whining of my West Side LA friends.
Airplane Etiquette and Other Such Matters…
After my long weekend in Los Angeles, I left on Tuesday. I left a little present consisting of a bottle of Stoli Raspberry and various snacks on Eunice’s countertop and headed to the airport for my short hop to Phoenix. Kelly was going to meet me at the airport and my father was coming in the following day. Of course, I underestimated both the line at Target, and the traffic on the 10, so I was running extremely late. I was unfortunately greeted by various asshats who proceeded to make my life as difficult as possible. I’ll just give you a few examples for your reading pleasure, before launching into a general overview of my awesome trip in America’s hottest oven…I mean, in Phoenix.
So I arrive at the airport, and I am, of course frantically running late after dropping my car off at the Alamo Rental Car lot in Inglewood (I have to say – despite the fact that the Biloxi Mississippi Airport is a barn, it is the best airport I have ever been to for this exact reason — the rental cars are in immediately in front of the airport, and there is zero line. The entire airport is in what appears to be a barn, but that is besides the point.) Thankfully the line is short for both the check-in and the bag drop, so I figure I’m home free. Au contraire, my friends, au contraire. Whenever I get to the airport there are always a million asshats who must not have a) been to an airport in the last 10 years, or b) read anything about air travel or watched the news since 9/11. Everyone knows that you have to take your shoes off, take your keys out of your pocket, no liquids, etc etc etc. Otherwise you are holding up the line and it is rude. Especially when there are those of us who fly by the seat of our pantalones here.
So this woman, whose face is mostly obscured by sunglasses despite the fact that we are inside and there are no windows, is holding what has to be the world’s most hideous dog (who is, by the way, not in a carrier) and a 1.5 liter bottle of Fiji water. When the security guard tells her that she can’t bring in her enormous bottle of water she has the audacity to act surprised. ”But I have a dawwwwwwggggg,” she says. At this point I am tapping my foot impatiently and my eyes are rolling around so much in my skull you’d think I was stroking. At the point that the woman proceeded to let her dog lap water out of her Fiji bottle I had had quite enough. I took my backpack, placed it on the belt in front of her, and went around. And then the unthinkable happened…. she removed my backpack and said, “Excuse me, I have a dawwwwwwg.” I, Alaina Morgan, was at a loss for words. You would have thought she had farted in my face.
Anyway, once I finally got through security, I thought my various dealings with idiots were done for the day. Unfortunately, my faith in humanity was too strong. I approached my seat on the plane, and unfortunately a zitty teenager had plopped herself down into it. Sign number one that the flight was going to go horribly wrong. After politely asking her to extract herself, I settled in and opened up the latest edition of Travel + Leisure Magazine. Somewhere in the middle of their feature article about the 100 best hotels in the world, we began to taxi down the runway, and that is when, to my horror, I heard someone’s cell phone ring. My horror turned to distaste, when I realized that the cell phone belonged to one of the zitty teenagers sitting next to me, who then proceeded to attempt to answer the phone. Now, I understand that the danger to the passengers in a plane caused by an errant cell phone is minimal, but it was really the blatant disregard for the rules that ticked me off more than anything. At any rate, as one of the zitty teenagers tried to place a phone call while we were taking off I yelled at them and told them to put away their cell phone. They probably thought I was old and crotechety, but I don’t care, it was the principal of the matter. The nerve of some people!
I Don’t Care if It’s a Dry Heat… Its Still Hot as Hell in Here
One of my favorite things when I land in a new place is disembarking from the plane and feeling the air from outside seep through the gap between where the jetway meets the plane doors. I got off the plane and was met with a gush of hot, dry air. Welcome to Phoenix.
Steele Indian School Park, Phoenix. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I collected Kelly by the rental car, and after a fight with the woman at Enterprise over the benefits of NOT “upgrading” to a mini-van, we were on our way to the suburbs of Phoenix…Gilbert to be exact.
Grand Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Let me be frank – there is not a whole lot to do in the suburbs of Phoenix, but we did go to a couple of very nice restaurants and bars in the Willo area of Phoenix, and in Scottsdale. Our first day we left to take a four hour drive to the Grand Canyon. The Canyon is amazing. If you find the right spot devoid of tourists, you can find the perfect balance of serenity. August is not one of the more crowded months, but it was still crowded. I can’t imagine what its like in early summer. Kelly and I hiked the Rim Trail, but didn’t go very far into the Canyon because we didn’t have a lot of time, and she was afraid of heights. Later that night, we checked into our hotel, the Yavapai Lodge, which in daylight looks like a creepy motel, but at night with desert foliage framing it, soft lights reflecting off of its walls, and the stars twinkling down on it, looks positively charming. We dined at the Arizona Room, which is located at the Bright Angel Lodge. It is supposed to be one of the better restaurants at the Grand Canyon, and I suppose after a day of hiking, walking, and hanging out with mules you aren’t too picky about your food. My baby back ribs were nothing special, the chipotle sauce lacking both that smoky kick that I was expecting, and a fall-off-the-bone flavor. The only truly fantastic thing on the menu was a peach summer berry streudel which was fantastic served with vanilla ice cream.
Sunrise at the Grand Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I didn’t come there for the food, so I wasn’t too disappointed. Besides, while we were waiting for our table to be ready, Kelly and I enjoyed a Fat Tire draft on the front patio and unexpectedly saw an Elk, in the middle of his rut, try to attack several passersby.
The next morning, Kelly and I woke up early to watch the sunrise. I attempted to run along the Rim Trail, but was unfortunately thwarted by the extremely thin air, and the fact that I embarked on a one mile vertical climb for the first ten minutes of my run. Fantastic.
Kelly and I left the Grand Canyon shortly thereafter, and headed for Jerome, Arizona, a ghost town known for its multiple haunted establishments, and its old copper mining history. Although we traveled to pretty much all of the “vortexes” in town trying to catch glimpses of ghosts, we didn’t catch any. On the way home we stopped at Prescott, Arizona’s Whiskey Row, which is supposed to house a collection of historical saloons, but was really just a disappointment.
Two Squirrels on the Edge of the Canyon. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Jerome, AZ. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
About 40 miles from home Kelly and I got a flat tire. Like a serious flat tire. Like a – I was riding on the rim going 75 miles per hour and I’m lucky I got into the shoulder – flat tire. Anyway, we were trapped in a boiling hot car on the side of Interstate 17 ignoring each other like old lesbians. I really wish I had a picture — both of the flat tire and of us ignoring each other.
The rest of our trip was filled with just hanging out. We went to Steele Indian School Park (300 E. Indian School Road, Phoenix, AZ) to check out the open air art and fish pond. We paid a visit to the Phoenix Art Museum (1625 N. Central Avenue, Phoenix, AZ), which I have to say is an amazing art museum that rivals many of the ones in Manhattan, and might even be superior to some of the good ole’ boys. The PAM has much better signage, so when you are looking at an contemporary art piece, there is a very clear explanation of the artist’s intent, or where the artist fits into a greater movement, which allows for a much greater appreciation of the piece itself. I find that that is generally lacking in museums today. It might be snobbery or laziness, or it might clutter the display aesthetically, but I find that if I have to do my own research before or after I see an exhibit I get very displeased.
We ate bruschetta and crispy salads (try getting a vegetable in the Southwest, just try!) at My Florist Cafe (534 W. McDowell Road, Phoenix, AZ)in the Willo District before heading to the Diamondbacks game. I guess I didn’t put two and two together that baseball season is in the summer time and summer time is well over 100 degrees every day in Arizona, but the stadium is INSIDE. AND air conditioned! Most comfortable baseball game I’ve ever been to!
We had a family BBQ on our last night in town and Kelly and I headed out to Papago Brewery (7107 East McDowell Road, Scottsdale, AZ), which brews their own beer, and has a delicious Coconut Coffee Stout on tap. We then headed over to American Junkie (4363 N. 75th Street, Scottsdale, AZ ) in Old Scottsdale where we finished off the night. I like American Junkie because it is preppy but edgy, like me. Its like wearing a leather biker jacket and fashioning a bow out of some strapping leather for fashion’s sake.
Giant Tacos Running @ Diamondbacks Ballpark. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I always love seeing my family, but traveling to Arizona and spending time in Gilbert is like spending time in the suburbs… and to top it off, its a suburb where I don’t know anyone and can’t escape. Next time I go I’m spending more time in Scottsdale. Total mistake on my part.
Anyway, I am back and its going to be a great fall! Are you ready?
Weekend Update: Polo vs. Polo, and Why it is a poor idea to ride a bike in the mountains with no sleep
Oops… looks like I didn’t update my blog last week. Sorry guys. Truthfully, I have an excuse. I wasn’t lounging about by my (non-existent) pool, drinking (calorie filled) pina coladas, and (okay maybe a little) napping all day. In fact, this week I actually took the opportunity to get hardcore about my job search. I sent out a bunch of resumes. On the writing side, I’ve had a million story ideas and I’m trying to put them all into words these days. So its been a busy week. But fear not, I’m back…for now.
Thursday, August 13th – Bike Polo
(c) Alaina Morgan, 2009
So lets start with Thursday. Its not really part of the weekend, but in some parts active bar hopping does start on Thursday nights so I suppose its an honorary weekend day.
I met my friend Marci in Chinatown (and as an aside, why is it that EVERY time you get out of the subway at Grand Street and Broome Street it just smells like something crawled into a corner and died? I just don’t understand it) to go see my very first game of hardcourt (or urban) bike polo. Hardcourt bike polo you say? What the hell is that? Well, its actually pretty cool. There are two teams each with three players. Each player has a beat up bike with short handlebars, and a homemade mallet consisting of a ski-pole stuffed into some kind of open ended tubing. The goal is to get a street hockey ball through the “goals” – really traffic cones – on either side of the court. Protective headwear is optional. Rules are minimal.
Pile-up. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
The game is rowdy, with a hefty scent of testosterone (or man-sweat, whatever you want to call it) in the air, but it was good natured. Body-to-body, mallet-to-mallet, and bike-crashing into-bike contact are both expected and welcomed.
It was really kind of cool. Especially since I heard that even though it only street messengers used to play urban bike polo, now, all kinds of cyclists are getting into the sport. That includes long distance touring cyclists like yours truly. Hm.. will you see me out on the bike polo court? Perhaps, but frankly I think my shins are a little weak to get wonked with a homemade bike mallet, and I like my trusty steed way too much.
Saturday, August 15th – Why it is a Poor Idea to Ride in the Mountains After Not Sleeping
Bear Mountain. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I have ridden my bike with a hangover before, and that is why I have never done it since. On a 90 degree day it causes jelly legs, dehydration, dizziness, and skin tingling about 10 miles into a hilly ride. I did it once on a ride with my friends Sharon and Robin last year and I learned my lesson. Lots of sleep and water for me before a ride, especially a hilly one.
After cycling for three years, you’d think I would know better, but apparently not sleeping at all, whether or not one has imbibed any liquor apparently has the same exact effects. As Sharon wisely pointed out yesterday, I might as well have just gone out and had fun since the net effect is apparently exactly the same.
Anyway, I planned to go on a ride with my old cycling team up to Bear Mountain. I’ve never done that ride before, but its supposed to be beautiful, but very very hilly (more on that later). Our plan was to ride our bikes up to Garrison or Cold Spring, NY.
Enormous Hill. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
When I got out of bed (note I didn’t say “woke up”), I had qualms about going. My heart rate was a little erratic and I was a bit dehydrated, but my major concern was that Sharon was going to make fun of me for not showing up, so I felt like I had to go. So I got on my bike, and before I even got over the bridge to meet everyone I already felt terrible. My legs weren’t cooperating, it was already incredibly hot and humid, and I took it as a bad sign that by the time I got the approximately 9 miles from my house to the bike shop I had already drank one entire bottle of Cytomax.
So we rode on, and I was just so far behind. I just couldn’t keep up. My friend Joe stayed back with me for the first 20 miles, until we met our teammates at the Runcible Spoon Bakery in Nyack, NY (which by the way, is constantly recommended by various cycling magazines as “the place to go” in Nyack, but frankly, I think it is completely overplayed. It takes a million hours to use the bathroom there, and the only benefit is that they have their free water outside in Gatorade jugs so that you don’t have to bother them for it behind the counter).
Anyway, I should have turned back at 20 miles. Had I frankly understood how hilly the next 20 miles were, I probably would have gone sprinting back home the way I came. But no, because I am an idiot I thought to myself, “well, I can go the 20 miles back home, or I can just keep riding for 20 miles and take the train back…what’s the difference really.” Well the difference was that I basically felt like dying at several points throughout the day after that 20 mile mark. Just to put this in perspective. I just did a triathlon with a moderately hilly bike course, and I felt like I rocked it, I have done four century rides, two of which were in Lake Tahoe (and included a 8 mile long and steady climb).
View of the Hudson from Garrison. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Anyway, the moral of the story is — don’t get on your bike to a place with limited bail out points, especially if said place is in the mountains, if you have gotten zero sleep. The end.
Sunday, August 16th – Horse Polo
Colts Neck Polo. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
I suppose this weekend has been a sport filled one for me, because on Sunday Kelly and I went to see the Colts Neck Polo game, in none other than Colts Neck, NJ. Here’s where the title of this blog entry — Polo vs. Polo becomes evident. I went to Bike Polo on Thursday and Horse Polo on Sunday.
I really never knew that there was even polo in Monmouth County, but apparently there are five teams in New Jersey. This weekend Colts Neck played Tinicum Park, and unfortunately lost. Tinicum is allegedly rated higher so I suppose its not a surprise, but one likes to see ones “team” win. At any rate, I think Kelly and I were good sports considering that it was 95 degrees outside, and we were ill prepared. Apparently people tailgate for these things and bring drinks and chairs and what have you. Here’s a tip – do not try to go searching for a beach chair in rural New Jersey minutes before your polo match starts because you will not find one. Anyway, we have found a new favorite sport, which I will add to joining the circus, playing bike polo, cycling, and training for triathlons.
Museum of the Week: The Museum of the City of New York
Starburst on the floor in the foyer of the Museum of the City of New York, (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
A couple of weeks ago, the Real Estate-trix and I went to the Museum of the City of New York for their Speakeasy Wednesdays. We got a glimpse at the first floor museum galleries, and the interior of the building, which (as much as I hate to admit it) would be absolutely perfect for a wedding that spilled out onto the front balcony.
Although the exhibit didn’t provide access to the ongoing exhibitions, which include the museum’s collection of toys and New York City interiors, the three rotating exhibits were still plenty to see after drinking a very strong Cosmopolitan at the Speakeasy.
George Loring Brown, View of Central Park, 1862
Ever wondered what Manhattan looked like before someone came by and leveled it, only to replace its babbling brooks and ancient trees with skyscrapers and homeless guys. Well wonder no longer. The Museum of the City of New York’s Manhattan/Manahatta exhibit provides an in depth examination of what each of New York City’s neighborhoods looked like before they were developed, and then developed again, and then leveled and developed again. Like did you know that Murray Hill was actually, um… a hill. Or, that streams and estuaries used to abound on Manhattan Island? Yeah, I knew you didn’t.
Hendrik Kerstens, Napkin, 2009.
At first, I didn’t expect the Museum’s Dutch Seen exhibit to be that interesting, but thankfully I was incorrect. The unifying feature of the art that is displayed is that all of the artwork was made by contemporary Dutch artists. I am not an enormous fan of modern art, but the pieces that appear on the museum’s stock photographs of the exhibit, all done by Hendrik Kerstens this year are all intriguing. Each features a photograph of his daughter with a single white napkin on her head. If you look at it from afar, they look like colonial photographs of Dutch settlers wearing bonnets, but when you get closer you realize that the effect is created with a dinner napkin. I also enjoyed Jaap Scheeren’s photographs which attempt to recreate the discovery of Manhattan. Especially amusing is a photograph of a beaver by Jaap Scheeren. Scheeren bought the beaver on eBay for $250 and staged him in several photos in order to represent the beaver pelt as one of the key raw materials used in the New World.
Jaap Scheeren.
My least favorite was Amsterdam/New Amsterdam: The Worlds of Henry Hudson, which commemorates the 400 year anniversary of Hudson’s voyage to the area. My favorite parts of the exhibit were the 400 year old maps ad globes featured. I, along with many other people I am sure, am so fascinated by the fact that even though some things are slightly off about the maps, somehow colonial cartographers knew the basic shapes of the continents and their relationship to each other. Even though we know that the Earth isn’t flat and that the sun doesn’t revolve around the Earth now, our understanding of the shape of the continents has barely changed. The rest of the exhibit I could have left, however.
All in all, I recommend a trip to the Museum of the City of New York before the end of August to see the Mannahatta/Manhattan exhibit and the Dutch Seen exhibit, unless you absolutely abhor modern art and can’t see any way around it. And go on a Wednesday night, you’ll warm up your insides with a delicious speakeasy style beverage. Note that if you decide not to go on a Wednesday night, admission is pay-as-you wish.
Museum of the City of New York, 1220 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY, 212.534.1672.
Hours: Tuesday-Sunday: 10:00am-5:00pm; Wednesday 10:00am-9:00pm during the summer ($12 admission)
Suggested Admission: Adults: $10; Students and Seniors: $6
Weekend Update: Road Trip on Metro-North
I’m back! This weekend I took a little trip on the New Haven line of the Metro North to Guilford, Connecticut where I visited my friends from college Danielle and Matt and their baby Brennen (who will henceforth be referred to as Mr. Doogal). We had a fabulous time, and my womb alternated between being like aaaaw…baby, and my cervix clamping closed every time I heard crying. Its currently safely clamped, thank god.
On Friday I finished taking care of business around town, which included getting a fantastic bright tangerine manicure to replace the manicure that I ruined during the NYC Triathlon. I may be unemployed, but I cannot go around looking raggedy, my mother taught me better than that. Kelly and I got on the train right after peak hours, and arrived in New Haven at about 9:30. After a meal of buffalo chicken pizza and too much red wine, we fell asleep at a decent hour and prepared to get up early to have some good old fashioned American fun.
California Sea Lion (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Saturday morning I actually woke up at a decent hour, and after housing a cheddar bagel (amazing!), we got ready to head to Mystic, CT for the day. I went to Mystic when I was about 10 on our fifth grade graduation trip. I remember it being pretty amazing. I remember the ships with their enormous canvas sails, but my strongest memory is that of fresh hand churned pistachio ice cream being served out of a hand cart. I was amazed that it was white, and not bright green like the kind that they have at Baskin-Robbins. Growing up in Brooklyn, before the advent of any concern about natural and organic products, I had never seen anything like it. Green food dye was par for the course.
We didn’t go to the Seaport, but we did go to the Aquarium. What I was not expecting was that the aquarium is outside and it was hot as …well you know…out there. I think the kids really enjoyed it, but they were worn out by the end of the day from the heat. (And no, by kids I don’t mean me — although I really enjoyed it too). Probably my favorite parts were the beluga whales, which are around 2,500 pounds and beautiful, and the sea lion rehabilitation tank. I just think its amazing that they take in these sick animals and help them. I believe that they occasionally have other animals in the tank, but that was all they had this weekend. I normally love penguins, but they were in the water hiding from the heat and the only way to see them was by going to the underwater viewing area. I was hoping to see some fuzzy penguin babies, but to no avail. Apparently you can also meet a penguin on Sundays at 12:30, but we missed it!
Frog hiding in Lily Pads, (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009
Jellyfish. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
As for the indoor exhibits, I found it amazing that they have bred these new phosphorescent fish. Apparently, they extract florescent compounds from coral and inject them into the fish eggs while they are still developing. The fish born from those eggs are phosphorescent, and the proteins fuse with their DNA, they pass the trait down to their children. The jellyfish were also amazing, and Kelly had a thing for the sea anemones which photograph great. Some crazy kids were putting their hands in the tank and I found myself secretly wishing they would be stung since their parents were not watching them appropriately. But then I saw some parents sticking their hands in there, and I understood why. Some people should not be able to breed. At any rate, there are also sea turtles and a new iguana in the indoor center.
Skunk Clownfish. (c) Alaina Morgan, 2009.
Saturday night we went to Chuck’s Steak House (West Haven, CT) and ate entirely too much beef and again drank too much petite syrah. We went back to Danielle’s house, and although we meant to hang out, we all passed out from a beef and wine induced coma. It was a bad combination — everyone had creepy dreams that night.
Volcano Sirloin at Chuck's, (c) Kelly Murphy, 2009
On Sunday morning, I woke up to Mr. Doogal and Danielle making fresh blueberry muffins. We lounged around, surfing the internet, and relaxing, and then baked chocolate chocolate chip cookies which were still warm and gooey when I bit into them. We went over to Danielle’s parents’ house where her sister was having her 27th birthday party. Three glasses of Sangria, a beef burrito, and a slice of Elmo birthday cake later, Kelly and I were on our way. And thankfully, for once I didn’t have to sprint to the train
My weekend was, as you can see, very wholesome. And I discovered, on my way home, that Pathmark on 125th Street and Lexington Avenue, has the BEST deals for groceries in the city. I mean, suburban prices. If you live on the East Side, or Morningside Heights-ish area (where you can easily take a bus cross-town), you need to get thee over there.
The last couple of days around here have been pretty low key — in my increasing age I am unable to drink as much red wine as I did last weekend and still function. Circus class on Monday, however, was absolutely amazing. I am really bad at climbing, but we did some crazy trapeze work, which I actually really enjoy.
So what’s on the agenda for this week?
- Today (Wednesday), I’m going to go see G-Force in 3D! I heard that it was awful, but I don’t care. Any movie with talking animated Guinea Pigs has to be amazing.
- On Thursday, Marci and I will be heading over to the MoMA for their Thursday extended hours and live music (which starts at 5:30) Min Xiao Pen’s Blue Pipa Trio will be playing.
- Friday I’m getting together for drinks with my friend Camille from college
- Sunday Fedak, Kelly, and I are going rafting on the Delaware Water Gap
Pretty sweet times. And as always — anything could happen.
Musings: Woodstock Reminds Me that I am Aging
So I must be living under some kind of rock, but while I was at Barnes & Noble today I just realized that its the 40th anniversary of Woodstock.
I was born in 1981, so obviously I wasn’t alive when the first Woodstock took place, but I was alive 15 years ago when they had the 25th anniversary concert. I remember this because it was 7th grade. I never miss an excuse to have a party, and I had delayed the celebration of my half-birthday, which is in March (I’m certainly NOT celebrating any half-birthday’s these days!). IN order to commemorate the occasion, I had a fabulous sleep over party with all of my tweeny bopper friends, and my parents were nice enough to let us get Woodstock on Pay-per-View. We also watched My Boyfriend’s Dead which was awful, but I believe we though that Matthew McConaughey was cute and that’s why we watched it. My parents probably would not have been so keen on us watching Woodstock it if they knew that Shannon Hoon from Blind Melon was going to be exposing himself to the crowd and people were going to be crowd surfing buck naked. I imagine it going very similarly to when my Dad came home when I was 17, and my friends and I were watching Boogie Nights. I told him it was a documentary, he didn’t buy it.
Twelve was an awkward age, and I would never want to go back to it. But there’s something to be said about when your biggest problem was the fact that a boy who peaked at 13 didn’t like you, when something as simple as watching Blind Melon on Pay-per-View or watching a crappy movie made you happy. But maybe its just a reminder to simplify my life.
Or maybe its just a fantastic memory, and just not that deep.
Weekend Update: The NYC Triathlon, The NYC Triathlon, and oh…. The NYC Triathlonson
Me crossing the finish line. (c) Kelly Murphy, 2009.
Hear ye, hear ye. Litigatrix has completed her first triathlon. And yes, I said first. For all of my bitching and moaning about how I can’t wait for the season to be over so that I can reclaim my summer (which will from henceforth include Red Nosed Mexican Bulldogs and Happy Hours) I actually really enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that I got from finishing. It was physically the hardest thing that I’ve had to do in my life, but for some sick reason I want to do it again. This time I have my eye on the prize for a Half Ironman. Crazy, yes… but you would expect nothing less from me.
My time was pretty paltry: approximately 4 hours and 30 minutes, although I stopped on the side of the road for about 20 minutes to help a woman from Seattle who didn’t know how to change her own tire. If I subtract the 20 minutes for the bike, my swim and bike times were pretty good, and better than expected. My run time was pretty pathetic, but what are you going to do… its not my sport. Anyway, I figure stopping to help that woman was good karma (its pretty awful to be on the side of the road waiting for the SAG wagon), and it wasn’t like I was going to win or anything.
Anyhoo, my friends brought me these sweet cupcakes at the finish line, and then proceeded to devour 3/4s of them. I did get my hands on the Carrot Cake Cupcake, which I’m sad to say (or happy to say?) is no more.
(c) Kelly Murphy, 2009
So What’s on the Agenda for this Week?
Circus class tonight, of course. Catching up on movies that I’ve been wanting to see. Although, what gives with Harry Potter in 3D not playing at Lincoln Square anymore? Its playing in freaking Sheepshead Bay, but I’m not trekking all the way out there for it. This is extremely depressing.
Abby and I are also going to the Green Day concert tomorrow which I am ridiculously excited from. Green Day’s new album “21st Century Breakdown” is not as good as “American Idiot”, but really I doubt they’ll come up with an album that is.
I also plan on catching the second half of the Transit Museum’s “The Future Beneath Us” exhibit which details six projects which are currently going on in New York (the web page for the exhibit says that the exhibit closes on July 5th, but it has actually been extended through November per the Transit Museum). I saw the first half while trying to kill time at Grand Central Station and it was actually really fascinating. A bit infuriating, but fascinating. The second half is at the New York Public Library’s Science, Industry, and Business Library (188 Madison Avenue at 34th Street ).
Free: McCafe Iced Cafe Mocha Samples
My least favorite purveyor of junk food, McDonald’s, will be serving up free sample of its new McCafe line iced cafe mocha today and next Monday, August 3rd from 7am-7pm. McDonald’s is notorious for being gross, but their new iced coffees do look tasty. It is a huge question, however, whether the staff, who is generally incompetent, can put together a decent Cafe Mocha. To Be Determined.
Free/Cheap: BoCoCa Arts Festival
One of the great things about living in New York is stumbling upon something you didn’t even know was happening. That’s exactly what happened to me tonight. I went to Brooklyn (I know, I know) to accompany my friend Marci on a bar crawl of sorts to gather information for an article she’s writing for her Media Bistro writing class. While we were in Ceol Irish Pub (191 Smith Street, Brooklyn, NY; 347.643.9911), we discovered that there was a play going on in the back room and live music later that night as part of the BoCoCa Arts Festival. The festival, produced by Husky Dog Productions, seeks to bring together the Boerum Hill, Carroll Gardens and Cobble Hill communities through music and art. Sounds pretty good to me!
The bad news is that the festival has been going on since July 17th. The very good news, however, is that its still going on, and will be until Sunday July 26th. I am out of commission for the rest of the weekend since the New York City Triathlon is this Sunday and I will be engaging in lots of sleeping and various other activities until then, but that doesn’t mean you have to be!
Many of the live music offerings are free, but admission is required for everything everything else, and costs a uniform price of $16. When you consider how much it costs to see a Broadway play, this is essentially peanuts. Tickets can be purchased in cash at the door, or by going to the Brown Paper Tickets website.
Here’s the schedule for the rest of the week:
Friday, July 24th
5:00 pm – The Border Project ($16), KMBS (Archip Gallery Theater, 498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710)
7:30 pm – One Night the Rain ($16), Slick Fillings of Aches & Cavities ($16), Jazzpolution (Deity Bar & Lounge, 368 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; 718.222.3692)
8:00 pm – Twelfth Night (Brooklyn Heights Montessori School, 185 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 718.858 5100; $16)
9:00 pm – The Divine Will of Ryan Morgan (Archip Gallery Theater, 498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710; $16)
Saturday, July 25th
1:00pm – She Stoops to Conquer (Archip Gallery Theater, 498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710; $16)
4:00 pm – The Divine Will of Ryan Morgan (Archip Gallery Theater, 498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710; $16)
6:00 pm - Twelfth Night (Brooklyn Heights Montessori School,185 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 718.858 5100; $16)
7:00 pm – Iris, I Oboe You Nothing Duo (Fiona & Ryan’s Art Exchange, 362 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; 718.422-7982; $16)
8:00 pm – The Border Project ($16), Aprille Goodman (Archip Gallery Theater, 498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710)
Sunday, July 26th
2:00 pm – Twelfth Night (Brooklyn Heights Montessori School,185 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 718.858 5100; $16)
4:00 pm – The Border Project ($16), PROJECT Trio (Archip Gallery Theater,498 Court Street, Brooklyn, NY; 917.862.8710)
6:00 pm – Iris, Bill Rozar (Fiona & Ryan’s Art Exchange,362 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn, NY; 718.422-7982; $16)
7:00 pm – Festival Closing Party (Bell House, 149 7th Street; 718.643.6510; $16) – Featuring five bands: Spanish Channel, BR & Timebomb, Loud Apt, Diet Kong, and Morning Code.
Review: Restless Legs Reading Series
Last night, my friend Marci from my travel writing class at Gotham Writer’s Workshop and I went to the Restless Legs Reading Series at Lolita Bar (266 Broome Street at Allen Street). The series is run by David Farley, an author and travel writer based in Manhattan. Farley usually emcees the series, but gave the audience a treat by doing a reading from his new book An Irreverent Curiosity: In Search of the Church’s Strangest Relic in Italy’s Oddest Town ($25; Penguin/Gotham Books). The book chronicles his search for answers about what happened to Jesus’ foreskin, which was stolen from a small medieval Italian village, Calcata, 25 years ago.
I wasn’t initially sure what to expect from a book about Jesus’ foreskin (except that I was pretty sure given my love of reading anything marginally having to do with religion that I would at a minimum find it interesting), but I was pleasantly surprised. The portion of the book that he read lampoons his own attempts to communicate with the residents of this village in bad Italian and the typical foibles and embarrassments that ensue. Upon a reading of the first few chapters of the book, it appears to do an excellent job of balancing Italian and Catholic history relating to the relic with Farley’s tales of the hilarious and histrionic individuals that he meets along the way. I’m excited to continue reading and I will report back on my impressions.
A second reading was done by New Yorker staff writer David Grann, who read from his book The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon ($27.50; Doubleday). The concept of the book reminds me a lot of In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex by Nathaniel Philbrick ($15; Penguin), which is also a tale of terror and tragedy encountered by individuals in deadly pursuit of something fiercely protected by nature. In The Lost City of Z, that object is an ancient civilization in the Amazon. In In the Heart of the Sea, that object was the valuable blubber and oil harvested from sperm whales in the Atlantic. In each book, men are driven to seek out their objects despite the threat of death. From the excerpt read by Grann, which was suspenseful and left me wanting to know more about what happened to Fawcett and his men, I expect that this book will be more captivating as In the Heart of the Sea which truly did not start to become a page turner until the second half of the book.
Marci and I will be putting Restless Legs on our rotation. I’m looking forward to future readings, and I will report back on my impressions of both An Irreverent Curiosity and The Lost City of Z.
Restless Legs is held at Lolita Bar (266 Broome Street @ Allen Street) on the Lower East Side. No cover charge. There will be no readings in August, readings will resume in September. I’ll post the schedule when I get my hands on it.
Review: Speakeasy at the Museum of the City of New York
Last week, the Real Estate-trix and I went to the Speakeasy at the Museum of the City of New York. Initially, I was going to make this another two-fer entry with a review of the exhibits at the Museum, and a review of the bar and drink set-up, but it made more sense to do it separately. I do love a two-fer, but I love being coherent more.
The Speakeasy is in a word, cute. I expected more of an enclosed space, but the Speakeasy is pleasantly situated on the Museum’s open air patio. There is a CD playing 20s style Harlem jazz and big band music. The place lacks a decidedly “speakeasyish” feel, however, as it is in a hardly secretive location directly on Fifth Avenue. Its not even set back a little bit from the road.
Included in the $12 admission was a free signature drink, which included any of the their signature cocktails which the Museum touts as “inspired by the era”. I had a Cosmopolitan, which I am pretty confident was invented sometime in the recent past, and popularized by the television series Sex in the City (or at least this is the case according to Wikipedia, where I go for all of my authoritative information). The Real Estate-trix had a Planter’s Punch, which was a sort of fruity rum punch. It reminded me more of Ocho Rios circa 1995 than the 1920s. Both were very strong. Be forewarned.
I perhaps the Speakeasy is more of a secret than the location would suggest, because there was a sparse crowd. I suspect as the summer plods along the Speakeasy will get more and more crowded as reviews are published and the word gets around.
The truth is, there are a ton of patio/rooftop bars in Manhattan, and I can (but rarely do) get a Cosmo anywhere. The best part of the Speakeasy for me was the free admission to the Museum of the City of New York. I had been wanting to see the Mannahatta/Manhattan Natural History Exhibit all summer, and I finally had an opportunity. The museum also has an exhibit on contemporary Dutch artists, and on Henry Hudson’s historic exploration of the New York area.
I would definitely go once this summer to the Speakeasy, but once is really all you need.
The Speakeasy at the Museum of the City of New York, 1220 Fifth Avenue, Wednesdays July 15th-August 26, 6:00-9:00PM. Admission, $10 for members, $12 for non-members, includes one drink and admission to the first floor galleries of the museum.
