Dear Those that Hunger and Thirst Like I Do At Traditional Meal Times,
When I was growing up, Sunday dinner was almost as important as attending church. Everybody knew that if the Baptist service didn't end at noon sharp we'd never reach the Golden Corral before the Methodists did and we'd have to wait (always graciously thanking the Catholics for going to mass on Sunday mornings, or even better, Saturday nights to make way for the hungry stampede of Baptists on Sunday afternoons). Dining out after church is a tradition my husband and I continued after our marriage began. It never failed that just after the offering, but before the special music, my husband would put his arm around me, lean in close and whisper, "Hey...where do you want to go for lunch?". This was never a problem when we lived in Texas. We'd always park strategically, backing in to our spot near the church parking lot exit so that we could haul out of church like bats out of hell and scurry on down to El Chico's (with our bulletin in hand for a 20% church bulletin discount!). In New York, this is not a tradition we continue for a variety of reasons, however mostly because you just can't get a meal at noon on a Sunday to save your life.
We tried it once. We walked quite a long ways actually to "restaurant row" on Third Avenue only to be greeted by a long line of "closed" signs. No matter that their hours of operation were posted and that they should have long been serving up the slices and the noodles and whatever else they made. But the doors were locked. We walked for, no lie, 6 blocks before coming to a place that, upon seeing us tugging at their locked door, let us in. I felt like Mary and Joseph the night Jesus was born. Take pity on us. Let us into your stable so we may dine. I'm wearing uncomfortable shoes that are making my heels bleed (a common theme for me). How a restaurant can forget to unlock their doors an hour after they are supposed to be open is beyond me. If I were working for tips, I'd be darned sure that door was open. Time is money. Except in NY.
I have my theories about why you cannot get a meal to save your life at a restaurant at noon on a Sunday. Realistically, we're white bread Baptists living in the land of enthusiastic, high metabolizing Italian Catholics. Those people have done their church thing the night before. They had breakfast at a diner and then went over to Mama Leone's (or whoever their mama is) and gathered around her table with 75 of their closest relatives for chicken cutlets, antipasti, homemade bread, macaroni (which I've learned means all manner of pasta, and most definitely NOT the cheesy box mix you and I are thinking of), and cannolis. Honestly, if I had that option every Sunday I would be doing the same thing. But not all of us have a Mama Leone (although I do have a close family friend we call Mama E up in Pearl River and if it weren't such a long drive, I'd be up there every night for dinner!)
So, for us it's PB&J on white bread or leftovers. For now. But once we're back south of that Mason Dixon, we're all about the stampede once again. And maybe next time we'll do the Olive Garden (oooooohhhh....that's sacrilege!)
Double Hugs, Double Kiss, Double Sauce on My Macaroni,
L.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Open Letter to Euro Moms...And Some Non-Euro Moms
Dear Braless Wonders....You Know Who You Are,
And here we are again--the underwear conversation. It's not even summer time yet and the "ladies" are swingin' free already. I realize that after a cold winter the "girls" were excited to go out without 65 layers covering them up during yesterday's warm spell of 50 degrees, but one additional layer...say, a bra...would be helpful. Think of the children. And the other moms. Music class is NOT a place to debut your jubblies for the spring season. It is not spring yet, trust me. Or trust your hooters....they say it all. Now, some of you can certainly pull this off. I'm not sure how, but maybe your kids are adopted or you have an excellent plastic surgeon. Or maybe it's some magic European spell that allows your knockers to stay where God originally planted them. Yes, I envy you for that but that's beside the point. Even if my girls were back in their original region of origin I would still "dress them up". It's just nice manners.
I'm not sure what it is about you Germans that give you the idea that it's perfectly okay to waltz (and jump and run and skip and twirl) without your knockwursts in their proper casings, but it's just not okay. The music room is small. Someone is liable to get injured. And to the Italian mom....BAD DECISION. You were not blessed with the German genes girlfriend. Tie those suckers down, would ya?
I love you European moms because you're so carefree and beautiful and skinny and, well, you have fun accents. I love that your JCREW quality offspring can speak fluently in many languages. But you wouldn't let them out without diapers (I hope). So lets all work on some kind of multi-national agreement that would allow for all of us to be comfortable around you. Yes, it makes me a little uncomfortable when I'm the only mom around who is not in on your very exciting and animated German conversation, probably talking about how fantastic it feels to be out without a bra on and how uptight the poor American mothers are in their bra-wearing stupors. I can get past that. I'm not bilingual. So sue me. I just can't get past the breastesses. As Heidi Klum would say, "auf wiedersehen" to the braless look. (I am aware that Heidi Klum also says, "In fashion, one day you're in. The next day, you're OUT" but I'm pretty sure she's not talking about boobs.
Summer will be here....one day....eventually.....I hope and it will be time for all of us to get out our summer clothes. Lets not have a repeat of last summer's "case of the missing underpants" episode (see previous blog) and lets go for the gold and get all our girlie parts secured. It's a pact!
Double Kiss, Double Hugs, Double D's!
L.
And here we are again--the underwear conversation. It's not even summer time yet and the "ladies" are swingin' free already. I realize that after a cold winter the "girls" were excited to go out without 65 layers covering them up during yesterday's warm spell of 50 degrees, but one additional layer...say, a bra...would be helpful. Think of the children. And the other moms. Music class is NOT a place to debut your jubblies for the spring season. It is not spring yet, trust me. Or trust your hooters....they say it all. Now, some of you can certainly pull this off. I'm not sure how, but maybe your kids are adopted or you have an excellent plastic surgeon. Or maybe it's some magic European spell that allows your knockers to stay where God originally planted them. Yes, I envy you for that but that's beside the point. Even if my girls were back in their original region of origin I would still "dress them up". It's just nice manners.
I'm not sure what it is about you Germans that give you the idea that it's perfectly okay to waltz (and jump and run and skip and twirl) without your knockwursts in their proper casings, but it's just not okay. The music room is small. Someone is liable to get injured. And to the Italian mom....BAD DECISION. You were not blessed with the German genes girlfriend. Tie those suckers down, would ya?
I love you European moms because you're so carefree and beautiful and skinny and, well, you have fun accents. I love that your JCREW quality offspring can speak fluently in many languages. But you wouldn't let them out without diapers (I hope). So lets all work on some kind of multi-national agreement that would allow for all of us to be comfortable around you. Yes, it makes me a little uncomfortable when I'm the only mom around who is not in on your very exciting and animated German conversation, probably talking about how fantastic it feels to be out without a bra on and how uptight the poor American mothers are in their bra-wearing stupors. I can get past that. I'm not bilingual. So sue me. I just can't get past the breastesses. As Heidi Klum would say, "auf wiedersehen" to the braless look. (I am aware that Heidi Klum also says, "In fashion, one day you're in. The next day, you're OUT" but I'm pretty sure she's not talking about boobs.
Summer will be here....one day....eventually.....I hope and it will be time for all of us to get out our summer clothes. Lets not have a repeat of last summer's "case of the missing underpants" episode (see previous blog) and lets go for the gold and get all our girlie parts secured. It's a pact!
Double Kiss, Double Hugs, Double D's!
L.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Open Letter to Snarky Blog Readers
Dear Friends,
Wow...I've sure made this a lame-o blog by getting all excited about it and then not writing anything for like three months. BOOOO me! Perhaps it is due to the fact that I've lived in the Big Apple for a whole year now (wow!--and still alive!) and what once used to strike me as God-awful Hideousness now barely strikes a chord at all. Wait...who am I kidding. I'm still as shocked as ever by some of the stuff I see, but by the time I get home to write about it....well, I have usually spoken to my therapist and all is well again. I'll admit that I haven't seen a person pee in public in about a month now (granted I was in Florida for three weeks so that helped that statistic!). I did see two people fornicating in the driver's seat of a vehicle parked in front of a preschool at 4'oclock in the afternoon a few weeks ago, but hey...it's cold outside so the park bathroom was probably their Plan B this time. Speaking of fornication....I'm expecting my second bebe' in September, so I GUARANTEE you that I will have more stories coming your way....if' you're a fan of obstetrical humor. Let's just say when I met my OB/GYN for the first time I ran home to Google him to make sure he wasn't a cast member of Jersey Shore. (He bares a strong resemblance to "The Situation". I'm thinking of calling him "The Speculum".) Anyway, if he ever runs out of KY in his office, he can just reach for a glob of hairgel from his gleaming, shiny, spikey hair. I will give The Speculum credit though--he's totally awesome and SO not like that crazy Russian doctor I had a few months back. He has a real office. No closets. And nurses! He has nurses! Hooray!
OK, so enough about hair gel and "down there" business. I've been in NY a whole year now so I figured I'd give you a list of things I've learned in this bizzaro year. Without further ado:
1. Tourists often wonder if NYC is dangerous. Will they die in a subway mugging? Be held at knifepoint at the deli? No, my friends. You're perfectly safe as long as you stay away from a three-way stop intersection. This will increase your chances of living twenty-fold. New Yorkers have NO IDEA. NONE. BADA BING BADA NADA idea how to operate in a three-way stop situation. There is usually no stopping. It's rolling. It's a race. And God help you if you're a pedestrian. The honking...the yelling...the screeching of tires....And that's just me! The others don't stop at all! AVOID AVOID AVOID.
2. When someone asks you "are you online"...they are not inquiring about your internet status. I learned this at the grocery store when someone asked me, "Are you On Line?". I said...."No. I'm at the grocery store". So they got in front of me. Apparently, "on line" means "in line". And so it goes.
3. If you think you're parked too close to a fire hydrant, you probably are. And it will cost you $115 for your trouble. Don't even try it. Meanwhile, you can double park in the middle of a lane of traffic, during rush hour, run in to pick up your deli order and stay and chat a while and run no risk of being ticketed. None at all. Have two cappuccinos. It's all good. Oh, and feel free to do a u-turn from the far right lane to the far left lane going the opposite direction during a red-light situation. Also totally OK. (and I wondered why our car insurance nearly TRIPLED when we moved here!)
4. Always take your shoes off at the door. As a kid growing up, we never did this. Heck, I rarely even wore shoes. It's Florida! But here, you wear big shoes. And when you enter someone's home, you remove them at the door. It is gauche to wear shoes in the house, mainly because you probably stepped on all manner of bodily fluids on the way over and nobody wants that on their carpet.
5. Apparently mustard is the only appropriate topping for a hot dog. And thin slice is the only type of pizza...unless you like squares, which, as you'll read in a previous post, is a huge source of contention among NY'ers. There's gelato, spumoni, and icecream. Know the difference. Follow the rules. Establish your loyalties. And have your order ready when they answer the phone. Just blurt it out. And prepare to wait.
6. Customer Service is not a priority. Never. Nowhere. Fuggetaboutit. I've learned to stop yearning for the "thank you, come again's" so often heard in my home land. Although I do like to freak them out by saying, "Good morning" and "you have a great day!". Hilarious.
7. Umbrellas? Useless. See, it's easy to remember...two words that start with "u".
8. Hours of Operation are mere suggestions. So what if the sign says, "Open at 11am". That could mean 2pm. (And it has, on more than one occasion in my experience). Restaurants in particular operate on their own schedules, not those of their paying customers. Even if you have a brunch reservation for 11am....too bad so sad if you have to come back in ("maybe 20 minutes to an hour"). And do not be offended if the restauranteur gives you major attitude for daring to show up before the restaurant opens, even if they should have opened an hour ago according to their sign (and by all means, DO NOT point out the sign. Don't.) . They are angry just like the rest of New York. If you want something on time, go to McDonalds. If you can find one.
Well, I'm sure there are more things...like uptown/downtown knowledge is really important when getting on the subway, the use of turn signals is a waste of time, and the best cheesecake in the world is located at Paneantico on Third Avenue. And I've met some pretty neat-o NY'ers who, while totally supporting the stereotypes, still manage to be pretty decent people. Just stay on their good sides and ignore their foul-mouths. I'll add more as they come to me. For now, enjoy and stay tuned. I'll write more sooner rather than later. Promise.
Double Kiss, Double Hugs,
L.
Wow...I've sure made this a lame-o blog by getting all excited about it and then not writing anything for like three months. BOOOO me! Perhaps it is due to the fact that I've lived in the Big Apple for a whole year now (wow!--and still alive!) and what once used to strike me as God-awful Hideousness now barely strikes a chord at all. Wait...who am I kidding. I'm still as shocked as ever by some of the stuff I see, but by the time I get home to write about it....well, I have usually spoken to my therapist and all is well again. I'll admit that I haven't seen a person pee in public in about a month now (granted I was in Florida for three weeks so that helped that statistic!). I did see two people fornicating in the driver's seat of a vehicle parked in front of a preschool at 4'oclock in the afternoon a few weeks ago, but hey...it's cold outside so the park bathroom was probably their Plan B this time. Speaking of fornication....I'm expecting my second bebe' in September, so I GUARANTEE you that I will have more stories coming your way....if' you're a fan of obstetrical humor. Let's just say when I met my OB/GYN for the first time I ran home to Google him to make sure he wasn't a cast member of Jersey Shore. (He bares a strong resemblance to "The Situation". I'm thinking of calling him "The Speculum".) Anyway, if he ever runs out of KY in his office, he can just reach for a glob of hairgel from his gleaming, shiny, spikey hair. I will give The Speculum credit though--he's totally awesome and SO not like that crazy Russian doctor I had a few months back. He has a real office. No closets. And nurses! He has nurses! Hooray!
OK, so enough about hair gel and "down there" business. I've been in NY a whole year now so I figured I'd give you a list of things I've learned in this bizzaro year. Without further ado:
1. Tourists often wonder if NYC is dangerous. Will they die in a subway mugging? Be held at knifepoint at the deli? No, my friends. You're perfectly safe as long as you stay away from a three-way stop intersection. This will increase your chances of living twenty-fold. New Yorkers have NO IDEA. NONE. BADA BING BADA NADA idea how to operate in a three-way stop situation. There is usually no stopping. It's rolling. It's a race. And God help you if you're a pedestrian. The honking...the yelling...the screeching of tires....And that's just me! The others don't stop at all! AVOID AVOID AVOID.
2. When someone asks you "are you online"...they are not inquiring about your internet status. I learned this at the grocery store when someone asked me, "Are you On Line?". I said...."No. I'm at the grocery store". So they got in front of me. Apparently, "on line" means "in line". And so it goes.
3. If you think you're parked too close to a fire hydrant, you probably are. And it will cost you $115 for your trouble. Don't even try it. Meanwhile, you can double park in the middle of a lane of traffic, during rush hour, run in to pick up your deli order and stay and chat a while and run no risk of being ticketed. None at all. Have two cappuccinos. It's all good. Oh, and feel free to do a u-turn from the far right lane to the far left lane going the opposite direction during a red-light situation. Also totally OK. (and I wondered why our car insurance nearly TRIPLED when we moved here!)
4. Always take your shoes off at the door. As a kid growing up, we never did this. Heck, I rarely even wore shoes. It's Florida! But here, you wear big shoes. And when you enter someone's home, you remove them at the door. It is gauche to wear shoes in the house, mainly because you probably stepped on all manner of bodily fluids on the way over and nobody wants that on their carpet.
5. Apparently mustard is the only appropriate topping for a hot dog. And thin slice is the only type of pizza...unless you like squares, which, as you'll read in a previous post, is a huge source of contention among NY'ers. There's gelato, spumoni, and icecream. Know the difference. Follow the rules. Establish your loyalties. And have your order ready when they answer the phone. Just blurt it out. And prepare to wait.
6. Customer Service is not a priority. Never. Nowhere. Fuggetaboutit. I've learned to stop yearning for the "thank you, come again's" so often heard in my home land. Although I do like to freak them out by saying, "Good morning" and "you have a great day!". Hilarious.
7. Umbrellas? Useless. See, it's easy to remember...two words that start with "u".
8. Hours of Operation are mere suggestions. So what if the sign says, "Open at 11am". That could mean 2pm. (And it has, on more than one occasion in my experience). Restaurants in particular operate on their own schedules, not those of their paying customers. Even if you have a brunch reservation for 11am....too bad so sad if you have to come back in ("maybe 20 minutes to an hour"). And do not be offended if the restauranteur gives you major attitude for daring to show up before the restaurant opens, even if they should have opened an hour ago according to their sign (and by all means, DO NOT point out the sign. Don't.) . They are angry just like the rest of New York. If you want something on time, go to McDonalds. If you can find one.
Well, I'm sure there are more things...like uptown/downtown knowledge is really important when getting on the subway, the use of turn signals is a waste of time, and the best cheesecake in the world is located at Paneantico on Third Avenue. And I've met some pretty neat-o NY'ers who, while totally supporting the stereotypes, still manage to be pretty decent people. Just stay on their good sides and ignore their foul-mouths. I'll add more as they come to me. For now, enjoy and stay tuned. I'll write more sooner rather than later. Promise.
Double Kiss, Double Hugs,
L.
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