Category Archives: Life stories

Motorcycle jackets are over

I wanted a moto jacket for years. Black, leather, classic. So what if I’m not cool (anymore?) and don’t ride motorcycles.

I knew I was opposed to suede. And I didn’t want a color. Although I had a flirtation with a dark pink Haute Hippie one, because you know me and pink.

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The challenge? My long torso and a desire not to spend a gazillion dollars on another coat. I have a lot of coats.

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Summer of Suck 2.0: a sort of sequel

“So it was benign, right?”

“Well…it’s complicated”

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And so begins an awkward conversation with well-intentioned friends and colleagues. I know how to answer the question – sort of – but responding almost certainly requires me to veer into TMI territory. I am comfortable talking about what I have been through and what I face next. It helps me. But I am not a mind reader so I don’t always know how much people can handle or truly want to know.

If I have already told you too much, or if you were just being polite, I’m sorry…kind of. Not really.

I don’t know.

 

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Where I like to eat (and drink) in Williamsburg, Brooklyn

I have posted here and there about some of my favorite restaurants but never done a full dining guide, per se.

This also is not a dining guide – too overwhelming. Plus I’m a somewhat picky eater and not what anyone would call a food expert.

But I do have my favorites so here are some of them. I plan to add to this post regularly. If you have any recommendations, please share in the comments.


Where I order from when it’s time to Eat My Feelings

Pies n’ Thighs. I swear by the chicken biscuit. It’s worth the calories. And they’re on Seamless without a delivery fee.

✨✨ TRULY UNPARALLELED ✨✨ @piesnthighs #chickenbiscuit #friedchicken #newyorkcity #chicken #hotsauce #spicy #crispy

A photo posted by Buffalo Chicken Chick (@buffalo.chicken.chick) on

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These puppies made the long trip from Jeju Island to Brooklyn

My friends at PS9 Pets in Williamsburg, Brooklyn (more about them here) are hosting a special event on Saturday to help find homes for puppies rescued from becoming food.

The pups – and their mums – are extraordinarily cute. Pics here.

 

I hate to miss it but I’ll be visiting Mom back home in the Scranton area.

Halloween is…what exactly?

I recently emerged from my surgeon-mandated Cocoon of Rest to get my eyebrows threaded savaged (more on that later). My life has been so boring of late that I try to put one activity on the calendar each day. And sometimes it’s something shallow like addressing my eyebrows.

Judge away.

I was the first customer to show up that day so I interrupted the brow lady’s breakfast. I sat for a moment and waited. This woman and her business partner, both originally from India, have been doing my eyebrows periodically for the past five years, and I didn’t have anywhere else to be.

Once she was done, I lay back in the barber-style chair and we started chatting.

“So what is this Halloween? I have lived here in American many years and I still don’t understand.”

“Hm. Well. Kids dress up in costumes. And adults too now I guess?”

I was totally uptalking.

I continued in a way that sounded a bit like “something, something…um, Day of the Dead in Mexico? And then there’s Santa for Christmas and a bunny for Easter! Wow, this is a strange country.”

I thought about showing her this picture of me dressed as a bunny for Halloween but then nothing in this world would make any sense ever again.

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In the end, I blame this bizarre conversation for the end result which I didn’t really notice until days later. Given the history, I thought she knew I still wanted a full, natural shape. Basically the eyebrow equivalent of a hair trim.

The result wasn’t as bad as the Ghosts of Eyebrows past, but they’re pretty skinny (for me).

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Oh! Another weird thing? I don’t know the name of either of the eyebrow women and after going there for five years, I feel like it’s way too late to ask.

 

Summer of Suck 2.0: Did I just learn how to meditate?

I sat in my wheelchair wearing two hospital gowns – one open to the back and one open to the front like a makeshift robe. Underneath, there were giant, disposable, hospital-provided granny panties and and an ink scribble on my belly, pointing to the location of my tumor.

A nurse gave me a cap to cover my hair. Then, it was time to go. We pushed through the big stainless steel-covered door leading to a hallway full of operating rooms. The door gave me a strange flashback: my heart raced exactly as it did when I rode through a rickety traveling carnival haunted house as a teenager. Continue reading

My bedroom – progress report

Greeting from Dullsville! I haven’t been posting much recently because my life recovering from surgery has been really boring. As it should be, I guess.

Before my surgery, I began taking steps to overhaul the look of my bedroom. I ordered a new bed and dresser, hoping both would be ready for delivery pre-op (they were not).

Naturally Pottery Barn emailed to offer 9/21, my surgery date, as the first available delivery date.

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I eventually removed the packing materials

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