This past weekend, I really didn’t do much of those things. I thought I’d be cranky about the change to my comfy routine, but instead I really enjoyed myself.
Then my friend Melissa and I saw Kanye West at Madison Square Garden. It was my second time seeing the Yeezus tour. More on that soon.
I live walking distance from this legendary Brooklyn steakhouse and have for more than two years. But I have yet to dine there.
I love a good steak. I love classic New York experiences.
Beyond that, shouldn’t this pic of Peter Luger’s bacon be compelling enough?
Once I tried. I was with my visiting mother. It was a Sunday afternoon during what I thought might be a quieter time at Peter Luger, after lunch but before dinner. No reservation.
Denied. The place was packed.
Peter Luger is cash only too. Unless one has the PL credit card. I do not sadly. At any given time, I have approximately $17.45 in my wallet.
That said, I’m determined to dine at PL. Who will join me?
Long Beach is just 25 miles from where I live in Brooklyn.
And yet last weekend was my first visit. I had a work event to attend Sunday so after weighing my options (LIRR, Uber, taxi, car service, helicopter – just kidding!), I rented a car. My little blue Fiat was terrific!
After the event ended, I drove toward the ocean. I do that every chance I get. Isn’t the beach pretty?
While I was waiting for Adrienne to arrive, I got to meet Patrick Carney of the Black Keys ever so briefly. Later Leonardo DiCaprio made an appearance, but to be honest, I was way more excited about Pat.
Walter and Jose were working together as they were last time. Walter’s company Bowery Collective is hosting a whiskey event on Saturday, November 16 that I might have to check out. There’s a Manhattan station and BBQ from Hill Country after all! Details here.
After Bowery, we tried to go to bOb but it was over capacity so we went to its sister bar Lounge 247. We had heard that the music would be great – lots of 90s hip hop – and we weren’t disappointed. The bad twerking we witness provided comic relief.
What kind of trouble did you get into this weekend?
She comes to me in dreams sometimes.
Aunt Mar is in the kitchen of her old apartment of Parsippany. She greets me cheerfully, casually, as if only a few weeks without seeing each other have passed. If she’s at all surprised to see me, it doesn’t show.
Aunt Mar is making eggplant parmesan. Without looking, I know there’s one portion made with chicken already in the oven because she knows I don’t like eggplant. It is always made clear to me that I am her favorite, just as she is mine.
I am overjoyed to see her, but also confused. Hurt. Angry. Why had she had left me? I was only sixteen. I needed her so badly.
I want to scream “you died! How are you here?” But would speaking the words aloud pierce the veil and make my happy dream evaporate? I am afraid.
What do you think of me? Of this person I’ve become?
Do you still love me? I hope I haven’t let you down.
Where did you go? Please don’t leave again. I still need you.
I’ll be OK. I just love you so much.
I say nothing. I let her hold me in her arms like the child I used to be.
She comes to me in dreams sometimes. Just not nearly as often as I wish.